“Ugh,” I said. What did that have to do with anything in that dream, though? What was my brain trying to get me to figure out?
“Why do you ask?” Nell said as the door swung open and we made our way down the aisle. I caught her glancing around as we passed some of the other kids, but they hadn’t said a word about her or to her since we got on the bus.
“Just something I read when I was doing research on…well, you know,” I said, lowering my voice. “By the way, I think we should look into the whole name-of-fiends thing….”
Nell stopped so suddenly I accidentally walked into her back. “You think we haven’t? Trust me, the spell is the only way.”
“I know, but—”
“Uncle Barnabas checked on his source for the…” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “For the toes. He thinks he’ll be able to get them by the end of next week. He has some way of shipping them to us without customs freaking out, apparently.”
Somewhere inside me, it sounded like Alastor let out a tiny gasp of alarm.
I knew it was an option—the only real plan that we had—but something still made me wonder about the name thing, if only because of Al’s reaction to it. If Nell and Uncle Barnabas had given up on that line of thinking, I’d pursue it myself. Just in case we needed a backup plan.
“Hey…one more thing,” I said quietly. “Is there anything, you know, amiss Downstairs? Have you heard anything about something going on there?”
You remembered. Al sounded genuinely surprised.
Nell stared at me. “Why would I have heard anything at all? It’s not like I have a pen pal down there.”
I tried, I told him. I could maybe ask Missy…
You would?
I was still thinking about those words, and the malefactor’s surprise, as we arrived at school and left the bus behind. I didn’t shake them off until it was time to put my plan into play.
“Aren’t you coming?” Nell asked when I started to turn down the wrong corridor.
I glanced at the clock in the hallway. I had less than ten minutes to do this.
“Just—bathroom,” I said, giving her a small wave. “Be there in a few.”
Once she headed toward homeroom for announcements, disappearing around the corner, I took off at a run, bursting back outside into a drizzle of rain cold enough that it probably should have been snow. The clouds were enormous, twisting around the sky, making me feel like I was standing at the center of a whirl of mist.
What are you doing, Maggot? Alastor asked, curious.
I’d never been in the theater building, but Nell had pointed it out to me in passing. It was attached to the art studios. Inside, the hallways were covered with cast and crew photos, more than half of them The Crucible. Spaced between them were large theater posters, all featuring the same woman in different roles and big seventies hair: Anna Drummer. Otherwise known as Madam Drummer, the theater teacher.
I found her in her office, her head of frizzy purple-red hair bent over a costume that looked older than her, carefully stitching the frayed ends back together. To her right, a big backdrop was partially unrolled, exposing some of the artwork.
I’m not one to criticize another artist’s work, but…yikes. Making the sad depiction of the forest even worse was the odd ripple at the base of it, where it had clearly been damaged by water.
“Madam Drummer?”
The woman jumped about two miles in the air, clutching at her chest.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said. “I just wanted to ask you something, if you have a second?”
“Well—my goodness, let me catch my breath,” she said. “Are you here about the auditions for John Proctor?”
The one thing Madam Drummer, wearer of three scarves at once, had in common with my grandmother was that they both tried really hard to make normal words like auditions sound French, even with her New Jersey accent.
“Not for me,” I said. “For my cousin Nell Bishop.”
Madam Drummer stared at me. “I’m not sure I follow…?”
“She wants the part,” I said. “She has everything memorized—and she’s good. I don’t get why you won’t even let her audition.”
“Because she is a girl,” she said, speaking slowly and clearly, like I was a child.
Preposterous. Al sounded surprisingly indignant on Nell’s behalf. As if your poor excuse for a bard, Shakespeare, did not have men play women all the time.
Good point.
“Didn’t Shakespeare have men playing the female characters?” I asked. “I know it was a different time, you don’t have to explain that, but…it just seems unfair.”
Many humans do not care about what is “unfair,” for it varies so much between them. They are, however, highly motivated by the promise of wealth.
“The script, you see, it’s very specific on the matter—”
It took me a second to understand what Al was trying to say. “But think about how much publicity and exposure you’ll be able to get for this—I mean, come on, aside from the fact it’s just the right thing to do to give everyone a fair shot, haven’t you done the exact same version of this play every year? With the same backdrop, and the same costumes?”
Her expression narrowed unpleasantly. “What are you suggesting?”
“What if—I don’t know, isn’t the whole play about unfair persecution and how easy gossip and lies can spread?” I said, mind racing. “Isn’t that just like…isn’t that just like middle school? What if you used the script but changed the setting and characters, just a little bit?”
“Young man,” she began, drawing in a deep breath. “The play debuts next Wednesday. Today is Friday. Even if we worked through the weekend, do you think I have the funds to simply purchase new costumes and backdrops? It’s not like I can ask the parrot-brained art teacher for her help.”
“No, no—but—if it’s set in modern times, the cast can just wear their own clothes. You can use desks and props from classrooms. I can paint the backdrops for you for free. Please just consider it. She’s such a good actress. She can’t prove you wrong if you don’t even give her a chance.”
The warning bell rang, interrupting the long silence that followed.
“I’d need to see your artwork,” she said slowly. “Your ideas.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll sketch some at lunch. They’ll be great, I promise. But does this mean you’ll let her audition?”
Madam Drummer flicked her hand at me. “Yes, yes, now get to class.”
I didn’t bother to hide my grin as I took off at a run, bursting outside and pounding through the mud to get back into the main building.
Why did you do this? Alastor asked. What are you hoping to trade the witchling for?
Nothing. Not everything is a transaction, I told him.
Did you engage this plan because you wished to feel better about yourself? The malefactor was clearly flabbergasted by the concept of friendship, never mind kindness.
I want to help my family. I thought you’d get that, since I’m guessing what you really want me to ask Nell is what’s going on with your family, not your realm.