says.
We sleep in her room, Merry in her bed and me on the futon. She falls asleep fast. After a while I get up and find Aunt Ellie in the kitchen, back on her computer. “Can’t sleep?” she says.
I shake my head. “What are you doing?”
“Just email. Daniel says hi.”
“To me?”
“I emailed him earlier that you were here, while I was making supper. He says to call you String Bean and tell you you’re amazing.” I make a face. Aunt Ellie laughs. “He’s just pushing your buttons, Edie. He messes with you because he likes you.”
“Whatever.”
Aunt Ellie slouches and shakes her hair over her face and pouts and says, “Whatever.” I realize she’s imitating me. She’s happy, though, laughing. She’s gone pink in the cheeks just thinking about Daniel. It’s weird. “Want to say anything back?” she asks, fingers poised over the keyboard.
“Tell him we missed him tonight.”
Her cheeks go pinker. Tap-tap-tap go her fingers.
Later, when I’m back in bed and almost asleep, I hear a car pull into the driveway, the front door opening, low voices in the hall. But the next morning it’s just the three of us for breakfast, so it must have been a dream.
Mom comes to pick me up. “Have a good time?” she asks.
I say, “Actually.”
Mom doesn’t say anything, but I can see she’s happy.
Raj can juggle and walk on his hands and sing and dance and do impressions of all the teachers and tell jokes until you think you’ll pee your pants. He should be the perfect Fool, but something is wrong.
“I just don’t want to do it that way,” he says glumly, a few days after my sleepover with Merry. I’ve just suggested he make a face behind Lear’s back to liven up one of his lines. “Can’t I just play it straight?”
“You’re the Fool, Raj,” I say. “You’re supposed to fool around. Foolishly.”
“It doesn’t feel right,” he says.
AAAARGH! I want to say, but I’m tiptoeing around Raj these days, grateful he came back at all after the day I yelledat him. “How do you want to do it, then?” I say instead.
“I don’t know.” He looks as if he wants to cry. “I just want to say the line, I guess. Can’t somebody else do the laughs?”
AAAARGH!
“I think the Fool’s kind of a serious character, actually,” Raj says. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot. I think the humour is just on the surface. Underneath, I think he’s, like, really sad.”
“Yeah?” I say.
He nods. “He speaks the truth, but nobody takes him seriously. Nobody listens to him. They just want to laugh and not to have to think about what he’s saying. Listen.” He flips through his pages. Raj is one of those I was complaining about to Aunt Ellie, who hasn’t got the text memorized yet. “‘Truth’s a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped out.’ The only way he can tell the truth without being punished is to make it into a joke. But the truth isn’t a joke. What if he’s all dressed up in his Fool costume but you can tell he’s—”
“Depressed?” I whisper to Regan.
She pops her eyebrows briefly, as if she’s not disagreeing with me.
“I’m a serious person, you know,” Raj says. “I just think I should be able to show that every once in a while.”
AAAARGH! “Okay, Raj,” I say. “Just say the line straight, then.”
He says it straight. His voice is flat. It’s boring.
“All right!” I say. “This will work! Let’s keep going!”
After rehearsal is over, Sam and Merry and Regan and I go to The Shot.
“Why did we cast Raj as the Fool?” I say loudly, rhetorically. “Because he’s funny! If he’s not going to try to be funny, what’s the point?”
Regan and Merry are flipping through the laminated booklet chained to the counter that shows all the kinds of tea. Sam is ordering a hot white chocolate.
“What even is that?” I say.
“Cocoa,” Sam says. “Made with white chocolate. It goes with my boots.”
“I wasn’t saying anything,” I say. “I
We sleep in her room, Merry in her bed and me on the futon. She falls asleep fast. After a while I get up and find Aunt Ellie in the kitchen, back on her computer. “Can’t sleep?” she says.
I shake my head. “What are you doing?”
“Just email. Daniel says hi.”
“To me?”
“I emailed him earlier that you were here, while I was making supper. He says to call you String Bean and tell you you’re amazing.” I make a face. Aunt Ellie laughs. “He’s just pushing your buttons, Edie. He messes with you because he likes you.”
“Whatever.”
Aunt Ellie slouches and shakes her hair over her face and pouts and says, “Whatever.” I realize she’s imitating me. She’s happy, though, laughing. She’s gone pink in the cheeks just thinking about Daniel. It’s weird. “Want to say anything back?” she asks, fingers poised over the keyboard.
“Tell him we missed him tonight.”
Her cheeks go pinker. Tap-tap-tap go her fingers.
Later, when I’m back in bed and almost asleep, I hear a car pull into the driveway, the front door opening, low voices in the hall. But the next morning it’s just the three of us for breakfast, so it must have been a dream.
Mom comes to pick me up. “Have a good time?” she asks.
I say, “Actually.”
Mom doesn’t say anything, but I can see she’s happy.
Raj can juggle and walk on his hands and sing and dance and do impressions of all the teachers and tell jokes until you think you’ll pee your pants. He should be the perfect Fool, but something is wrong.
“I just don’t want to do it that way,” he says glumly, a few days after my sleepover with Merry. I’ve just suggested he make a face behind Lear’s back to liven up one of his lines. “Can’t I just play it straight?”
“You’re the Fool, Raj,” I say. “You’re supposed to fool around. Foolishly.”
“It doesn’t feel right,” he says.
AAAARGH! I want to say, but I’m tiptoeing around Raj these days, grateful he came back at all after the day I yelledat him. “How do you want to do it, then?” I say instead.
“I don’t know.” He looks as if he wants to cry. “I just want to say the line, I guess. Can’t somebody else do the laughs?”
AAAARGH!
“I think the Fool’s kind of a serious character, actually,” Raj says. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot. I think the humour is just on the surface. Underneath, I think he’s, like, really sad.”
“Yeah?” I say.
He nods. “He speaks the truth, but nobody takes him seriously. Nobody listens to him. They just want to laugh and not to have to think about what he’s saying. Listen.” He flips through his pages. Raj is one of those I was complaining about to Aunt Ellie, who hasn’t got the text memorized yet. “‘Truth’s a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped out.’ The only way he can tell the truth without being punished is to make it into a joke. But the truth isn’t a joke. What if he’s all dressed up in his Fool costume but you can tell he’s—”
“Depressed?” I whisper to Regan.
She pops her eyebrows briefly, as if she’s not disagreeing with me.
“I’m a serious person, you know,” Raj says. “I just think I should be able to show that every once in a while.”
AAAARGH! “Okay, Raj,” I say. “Just say the line straight, then.”
He says it straight. His voice is flat. It’s boring.
“All right!” I say. “This will work! Let’s keep going!”
After rehearsal is over, Sam and Merry and Regan and I go to The Shot.
“Why did we cast Raj as the Fool?” I say loudly, rhetorically. “Because he’s funny! If he’s not going to try to be funny, what’s the point?”
Regan and Merry are flipping through the laminated booklet chained to the counter that shows all the kinds of tea. Sam is ordering a hot white chocolate.
“What even is that?” I say.
“Cocoa,” Sam says. “Made with white chocolate. It goes with my boots.”
“I wasn’t saying anything,” I say. “I
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