femur.â
âThatâs major,â I said. âGod, ski trips! Why? The only time I went on one, I got drunk and froze my hands.â
âYeah, Iâve got some stories too. Anyway, Carol is very worried, so Iâve gotta go.â
âOf course. Do you want me to drive you out?â
âNo thanks Roz. Iâll take Ruby and leave her in the parking lot so whenever I get back, I can just drive myself in. But you could do me a favour and take Molly over to Sophieâs later tonightâsheâs agreed to look after her for me.â
âNot to worry. Iâll pick Molly up at your place after rehearsal,â I said.
âIâll be in touch,â he said and was gone before I could ask him anything else.
When I got to rehearsal they had already begun to work. Hamlet was pressing Gertrude down on her chaise and forcing her to look at the two images: one of his father, which he carried with him, and the other of his wicked uncle, which was in a locket he tore from around Gertrudeâs neck.
âHyperionâs curls, the front of Jove himselfâ¦this was your husband. Look you now what follows. Here is your husband. Like a mildewed ear
.
â
What a strange image, I thought. âA mildewed ear,â as though Claudius were covered with a thin coating of fungusâShakespeareâs theme of contamination emerging in a simple description.
I ducked quickly into the green room and sat down beside Sophie, who was going over her lines.
âSo McBride called you about Molly?â I said.
âYeah, thatâs fine. Terrible about his son, isnât it. He seemed really worried.â
âItâs one of those situations,â I said. âYou knowâabsentee dad. Whenever anything untoward happens, heâs overwhelmed with guilt on top of everything else.â
âWhatâs Carol like?â she asked.
âIâve never met her. Sheâd moved out west before I met McBride. I met Alex a couple of summers ago when he came out for visit. Really great kid. Smart and funny, and nice, you know? I think sheâs a good mom.â
âWell, letâs keep our fingers crossed that heâs going to be okay.â
âFor sure,â I said. âIâd better get back in thereâsee how theyâre doing.â
âSee you later. I donât know if weâll even get to this scene tonight.â
âWell, in any case, why donât you take a ride with me after rehearsal, and we can pick up Molly together and take her back to your place.â
âThanks, Roz.â
I went back into the Crypt proper. The Ghost of Old Hamlet had just passed through Gertrudeâs chamberâ
âLook how it steals away. My father in his habit as he lived!â
Then Hamlet was instructing Gertrude to be chaste,
âDo not spread the compost on the weeds to make them ranker
â¦
Go not to my uncleâs bed. Assume a virtue if you have it not.â
Upstage of them, the old espial Polonius lay dead, one arm protruding through the arras. Gertrude was being forced to see the truth and she wasnât faring very well.
âOh Hamlet, thou has cleft my heart in twain
.
â
Gertrudeâs plight got me ruminating once again on Daniel Kingâs mother, Greta, and her strange behaviour after the funeral. McBride had departed for Vancouver without telling me whether he had learned anything about Spiegle. Should I now pursue this on my own, I wondered.
âIâll lug the guts into the neighbor room. Mother goodnight.â
The scene was over and the cast took a break.
Sophie was right. Opheliaâs mad scene would not be staged until the following evening. After good nights all around, she and I climbed into Old Solid to go get Molly at McBrideâs.
âEveryone seems tired,â I said, commenting on the eveningâs energy.
âYes, itâs difficult to keep up the intensity. Shakespeare doesnât
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