As Ms. Drummer went around to critique everyone’s work, I opened my notebook and tried to plan a few ideas to present to the other Drummer.
“I forgot to explain; I’m sorry, Ethan,” she said when she finally reached me. “Our project for the week is depicting our favorite aspect of nature through oil painting. I’d love to see what you come up with—just let me show you where to pick out a canvas.”
“Actually,” I said, looking at the supplies around me. “I was wondering if I could maybe join your class for the full week and a half and work on a project for Madam Drummer?”
Ms. Drummer’s face went carefully blank at the mention of her twin. “Oh?”
“She needs new backdrops for The Crucible,” I explained. “I don’t have a space big enough to try to paint them anywhere else.”
“Oh yeah,” Cody said from across the table. “Didn’t one of the water heaters in their storage closet explode? All of the backdrops are probably a wreck.”
“Really?” Ms. Drummer said. Then, muttering to herself, she added, “Why didn’t she say anything about it?”
I didn’t want to tell her it might have had something to do with her sister calling her “parrot-brained,” which now seemed totally uncalled for.
“Could that be our class project?” Lizzy asked. “Creating new backdrops of different scenes for them to use in upcoming plays and sketch shows?”
“Not a bad idea,” Ms. Drummer said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll ask my sister about it and have her come up with a list of scene possibilities for us to create. Thanks for bringing it to our attention. In the meantime, I’ll show you where the canvases are….”
I shrugged and followed her over to another rack, listening to her explanation about which sizes and materials to use for different projects. By the time I made it back to my worktable, Lizzy had retrieved the notice about the art contest off the bulletin board.
“Who won, though?” Cody asked as I sat back down and laid out my paint.
Lizzy looked down at the sheet of paper, and then laughed. “I should have known. It’s a Redding.”
My whole body went rigid.
“Figures,” Brayton said. “That family is unreal. Can I see the piece?”
She slid the paper over to him. My heart was beating so hard in my chest it felt bruised.
“A View of the Cottage by Prosperity Redding,” he read.
“What?” The word was out of my mouth and echoing around the art room before I could catch it.
Cody blinked, sliding it back over to me. “Yeah, check it out. It’s not bad at all—at least we know the win came from talent, not from someone buying off the judges.”
“There are so many of them, though,” Brayton said with a laugh. “The judges were probably all related to them in one way or another.”
My hands shook as I looked down at the announcement. But there it was. My name. A photo of the small painting I had done of the Cottage to give to Prue for our birthday. Instead, I’d been too embarrassed to actually gift it to her and had hidden it under my bed.
Prue. It had to have been her. She had to have found it and sent it in on my behalf.
Oh no. My eyes were itching, burning, and I felt like I wanted go hide outside for a few minutes to get a grip. But…I’d won. Not Ethan White. Prosperity Redding.
“Do you know the Reddings, Ethan?” Lizzy asked. “You seem surprised.”
“No,” I said truthfully, setting the paper aside and picking up a brush.
If the past week had shown me anything, it was that I didn’t know my family, never mind my twin, at all.
Nell met me outside of the theater, bright-eyed and out of breath.
“I got the part!” she said. “I got the part!”
“Which part?” I asked, playing dumb.
She punched me in the arm. “You know.”
“Cool,” I said. “Congratulations, you deserve it—I’m so glad Madam Drummer changed her mind.”
Will you not take credit for your work? Al asked, curious.
No, I thought back, there’s nothing to take credit for. Nell’s talent got her the part. I just pointed out to Madam Drummer that she was missing what was right in front of her.
It happened. Sometimes when you get so stuck in a routine, lost in an idea, it can feel frightening to start over or rework it. And I firmly believed that even if I hadn’t gone to see the theater teacher this morning, Nell would have found a way to audition.
See how many doors open, Alastor said, when someone with influence and ideas comes along with a key? Fortune can be hoarded, or it can be shared.
And a bad thing like a contract could be used for real good…like helping people achieve their dreams. Helping them feel more accepted, and less alone.
Indeed, Alastor purred. All of that and more.
I shook my head, trying to clear the thought away. It stuck to my brain, unwelcome.
“All of a sudden she started talking about changing the setting and the characters to modern-day,” Nell continued as we made our way to the bus. “It was so random, but everyone’s really into the idea, and we’re going to run through it at rehearsals this weekend. The blocking is pretty much all the same, and we all know the script—it’s just a matter of getting the set in order. The old backdrops were trashed anyway, so I guess it’s not a bad thing.”
“Yeah, Ms. Drummer—art teacher Drummer—mentioned that the eighth graders might take on the backdrops as their school gift this year,” I said. “Starting with a few for The Crucible.”
“Oh, that’s right! How was art class?” Nell said, forcing herself to slow down her happy, skipping steps.
“It was fine, but the weirdest thing happened—” I began, only to be interrupted by a familiar, gravelly voice somewhere behind me.
“Can you tell me if you’ve seen this boy…?”
I swear, it was like the guy took a baseball bat and slammed it into the back of my head. My eyes went all wonky and out of focus. My throat tightened with panic—my whole body felt like someone had stretched it to the point of snapping in two.
I knew that voice. I knew whose face I would see if I turned around.
Rayburn.
For a moment, I just stood there, wondering if I had ever seen his hunched form outside of the Cottage. In the natural daylight his skin looked as thin and pale as white silk, and the ring of fluffy white hair around his head had been groomed and awkwardly slicked back.
Of course. If my grandmother couldn’t come, she would send the only other person who despised me as much as her. He was the only unofficial member of the family who wouldn’t be recognized by the general public.
I glanced back, just to confirm it. Rayburn’s cane thumped against the winter grass, rising slightly, as if to strike, as a few kids ran past him. He shook himself, his mouth twisting and face graying with disgust at the laughter around him. Clearly out of practice for anything that wasn’t unlocking, opening, and shutting a door. Beside him, one of the vice principals had a photo in his hand and was showing it to one of the janitors.
Flee, Maggot! Flee!
Nell glanced behind me. “Who is that?”
“Butler,” I whispered back.