Dark Secrets 2: No Time to Die; The Deep End of Fear by Elizabeth Chandler Page B

wrath because that she as her attendant hath—'"
    It was unnerving the way the others watched me, as if waiting for me to slip.
    "'—A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king.'"
    I struggled to keep my focus.
    "'She never had so sweet a changeling. And jealous Oberon—'"
    A wave of sickness washed over me.
    "'And jealous Oberon—'"
    I clutched my stomach. My mind went blank. I couldn't even think to call "line," as actors do when they forget one. I began to teeter. I caught my balance then heard a collective catching of breath.
    "For heaven's sake, Walker!" Maggie chided.
    "All right. House lights."
    I dismounted the beam, then grasped it like a stair rail, trying to steady myself. The lights came on. Walker climbed up the steps and stood in the middle of the stage, pivoting slowly, looking us over.
    "Take lunch," he said, then strode toward the back stairs. No one moved until the sound of his footsteps disappeared.
    I returned to the seats to gather my things, but Shawna already had them for me. Brian spoke to his mother, and everyone else filed out quietly. I left with Shawna on one side and Tomas on the other, avoiding everyone's eyes. When we got outside, I found that Mike had positioned himself at the top of the concrete steps.
    "Jenny? Jenny, look at me."
    I glanced up, miserable and ashamed, knowing I could never explain my fear to someone who, like Liza, thought being onstage was "a blast."
    "It takes a certain kind of person," I told him, "to believe that everyone wants to love you. And I'm not her."
    Dear Uncle Louie,
    I'm here at drama camp. (Thanks again for your recommendation.) I have a question, one I'd rather ask you than my father. Our director, Walker Burke, knew Dad years ago in New York. Here at camp Walker is quick to criticize New York theater and put down Dad. (Of course, he doesn't know I'm a Montgomery.) Someone here told me that Dad was in Walker's last show—that Dad pulled out of it and the show failed. Could you tell me what happened?
    I'm not going to say anything to Walker—I just want to know what stands between them. Thanks.
    Jen
    I sent the e-mail to my godfather, then took a long shower. I was grateful to Maggie for allowing me to spend lunch alone at Drama House, and I returned to the theater feeling much better. Things seemed back to normal, except that Brian was watching me a lot.
    "I'm fine," I whispered to him. "Don't stare. People will notice and I don't need any more attention than I've already gotten."
    Walker had decided to spend the afternoon getting the rustics straight. Tomas was told to divide the crew work among the rest of us and proved that he was more savvy about people than he let on. He gave Ken, Paul, and two others flats to paint inside, where they could be supervised, and sent Lynne and three responsible types outside with the spray paint. Two neat, quiet girls were assigned leaf stencils. Maybe he thought Mike and I were friends after yesterday: he asked us to paint the canvas that would cover the vaulting horse.
    We worked on the ground floor, underneath the theater, across the hall from the dressing rooms and wardrobe. Sawhorses, drafting tables, and workbenches were spread throughout the cavernous room. There were pegboard walls of tools, shelves of paint supplies, and large rolls of canvas and paper, along with flats and screens that looked as if they had been painted over a hundred times.
    After getting the other kids started, Tomas explained the job he was giving Mike and me. He unrolled a piece of prepared canvas, ten feet by five, on which he had chalked outlines of stones to create a wall. He showed us the finished version of pieces that would cover the ends of the horse and how to use varying shades of gray and brown paint to make the stones look three-dimensional.
    Mike and I poured our paint and set to work. We talked little and about nothing important, but both the small talk and the silences were comfortable between us, as they were on the boat. I