Fabulous Five 020 - The Witches of Wakeman (5 page)

"Double, double, toil and trouble," the witches
crooned, stirring their brew with the branches at the rehearsal the following
Monday. "Fire burn and caldron bubble."

"Cool it with a baboon's blood, then the charm is firm
and good," Beth intoned in her deepest voice.

"The show today will make you shiver," Laura said,
waving her arms around dramatically. "We have some acts to make you
quiver."

"Laura," Mr. Levine interrupted, "I'm not
sure I understand what you're doing with your arms."

Laura let out a huge sigh. "Well," she said pointedly
in Beth's direction, "I don't have my magic wand! If I had it, you'd
understand what I was doing with my arms because I'd be
waving
it."

"But Laura," Mr. Levine said, "you won't be
using your wand during this scene. You'll use it in the
Wizard of Oz
skit."

Laura's face fell. "I can't use it while we're stirring
the caldron?"

"No, definitely not," Mr. Levine said.

"Well," Laura said angrily, "I most likely
won't be using it at all, anyway! It hasn't turned up . . .
yet!
" She
directed the last word at Beth.

"I don't have it, Laura," Beth hissed. "I
never . . ." She broke off, unable to utter another word as a grinning
head rolled out from under the backstage curtain and came to rest by her feet.

"A head!" shrieked Dekeisha.

"It's only one of Chet Miller's heads that he uses in
his juggling act," said Beth, finding her voice again.

"I know that," said Dekeisha. "But it's still
a head, and why did it roll out here? Someone's trying to scare us."

"What's going on?" Mr. Levine called out, getting
up from his seat in the front row.

"It's the
curse!
" Molly shouted from the
left side of the stage. "Those heads were sitting on a table backstage.
Chet put them there after he rehearsed his act."

"That doesn't mean it was the curse," Beth argued.

"Oh, yeah?" challenged Molly. "Well, nobody's
been backstage for at least fifteen minutes. I would have seen them from where
I was standing in the wings. Explain that!"

Beth looked uneasily at the head lying on the stage. It was
only a ball, of course, painted to look like a real head.

"But why would a head roll across the stage?"
Laura whispered, her eyes big and round. "Unless it's some kind of omen."

"I'm outta here!" Molly shouted. She raced down
the side steps of the stage, grabbed her backpack out of a front-row seat, and
flew toward the door without so much as another look behind.

"Don't be silly," said Chet, picking up the head
and bouncing it up and down with one hand.

Mr. Levine looked edgy as he called, "I want to talk to
you all for a minute. You, too, Molly."

Molly turned around and slowly trudged back. Beth glanced at
Laura, who was seating herself on the stage floor. She didn't look as
frightened as she had a few moments before. Beth studied Laura's face. Could
she be responsible for the mirror's breaking and for the head's rolling across
the stage? Had she been faking being afraid? A thought came to Beth in a flash.
Laura could have hidden her own wand so she could blame Beth. And maybe she
could even have figured out a way to make the head fall off the table and roll
onto the stage without actually being back there. Maybe Tammy Lucero or one of
the other members of The Fantastic Foursome had sneaked backstage without Molly's
seeing her and done it. Was it possible that Laura was so hungry for the
limelight that she'd sabotage the whole show and blame Beth?

In a few minutes, all the kids surrounded Mr. Levine.

For the first time, Beth saw worry lines crease the drama
teacher's face. Did he
really
believe in the curse of
Macbeth
?

"I've been doing some research on the
Macbeth
superstition," he said.

"Do you believe the curse is working on us?" Chet
Miller asked, his eyes wide.

The director cleared his throat and shifted his weight
nervously over the other foot.

"Well," he said, forcing a laugh, "I don't
really believe in it myself, but if it will make you feel better, there were
things listed in the book we can do to protect ourselves from the curse and
bring good luck instead. Of course, they're superstitions, too."

"What? What?" Molly's voice bubbled up from the
crowd. The other kids stepped aside as she gently pushed her way to the front. "I
don't want any other bad things to happen," she said. "What can we
do?"

Mr. Levine looked around at the kids. "There are
several things," he said. "First of all,
never
say the name of
the play that the witches' speech is from."

"You mean,
Macbeth
?
" Melanie said,
then slapped both hands over her mouth.

"Right," Mr. Levine said grimly. "
Don't
say it,
especially inside the theater where we rehearse and perform."

"What else?" Dekeisha asked.

"You can protect yourself from forgetting your lines by
sleeping on your script," he said.

"It'll get all messy!" someone complained.

"Place it under your pillow," Mr. Levine said. "And
if you put a penny in your shoe, your scene will be a success. Or if you wear
squeaky shoes, the whole performance will be good."

Melanie giggled. "My dad could be a superstar! He's got
the squeakiest shoes I've ever heard."

Everyone laughed.

"Hey, this will be fun," Chet said cheerfully. "What
else can we do?"

Mr. Levine smiled at Chet's enthusiasm. "There are lots
of superstitions about the theater. Like, never whistle in your dressing room.
. . ."

"I can't whistle anyway," said Molly. "See?"
She puckered her lips and blew air.

"Rubbing a rabbit's foot over your face and hands
before going onstage is supposed to be good luck, too," Mr. Levine said.

"I've got one on a key chain," said Paul. "I'll
bring it and we can all share it."

"Sneezing in the dressing room of an actor means the
actor will get sick," continued the director.

"Especially if it's the actor who sneezes," said
Beth, laughing. Everyone joined in.

"Okay, so if anyone accidentally says the name of the
play the witches' speech is taken from . . ." said Mr. Levine, looking at
the faces in front of him.

"Something
bad
will happen," everyone said
in unison.

"There is something else you can do to escape from the
curse," said Mr. Levine.

"What?" asked Dekeisha.

"Say this line," Mr. Levine continued. "Angels
and ministers of grace, defend us."

Molly gave Melanie a nudge. "Say it, Mel. Then we'll all
be protected."

"Huh?" said Melanie, looking confused.

"A few minutes ago, you said the name of that play. You
know."

"Oh, you mean—" Melanie began.

"Don't say it
!"
Molly cried, raising
both hands. "Look, Mel, repeat after me: Angels and ministers of grace,
defend us."

Melanie took a deep breath. "Angels and ministers of
grace, defend us."

A cheer went up from the group.

"All right!"
cried Molly. "Now the
curse won't get us."

Beth rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe all the kids, and
even Mr. Levine, believed that stuff. What a bunch of baloney.

"Maybe Laura's wand will turn up," Molly said. "Especially
now that we've gotten rid of the curse."

Laura and Beth glared at each other suspiciously.

"Okay," Mr. Levine ordered. "Let's get back
to rehearsal."

"
Oh, look!
There's my dress. Oh, Mrs. Nixon, it's
beautiful!
" Laura squealed as an older woman walked down an aisle with
a dress on a hanger.

"My dad hired Mrs. Nixon to make my
Wizard of Oz
costume for me," Laura said proudly.

Jumping off the stage, Laura ran to the woman and took the
dress. Holding it to her, she swirled around and around, letting the dress
stream out in a circle.

Beth gasped along with everyone else. It was gorgeous. It
was long and flowing and made of shiny, smooth satin. It had long sleeves with
puffy shoulders and lace along the neckline, and the top was covered with
bright, shiny sequins.

Beth imagined Keith in the audience watching Laura's every
move. Why wouldn't he? Laura would be beautiful on opening night, and Beth
would be wearing her long black cape and wig and her pointy hat. Her face would
look all wrinkly and gray from the makeup, and she'd have a gross, ugly wart
glued to her nose.

No! Beth thought defiantly. That's not the way it's going to
be at all. I'm going to give the performance of a lifetime, and Laura McCall
will just be part of the scenery.

I'd better give the performance of a lifetime, Beth thought.
Because if I let Laura upstage me, I'll melt down for real.

"Beth!" Brittany yelled later that evening. "Telephone!"

Beth leaned out of her bedroom. "Who is it?"

"How should I know?" Brittany called back from
downstairs. "Just don't tie up the line too long. I'm expecting a call."

Beth sighed. When
wasn't
Brittany expecting a call?

"Hello?" said Beth, picking up the phone in the
hall.

"Hi, Beth." Keith's voice sounded uncertain.

Beth's heart soared. "Hi," she said, hoping her
voice didn't give her nervousness away.

"I didn't see you at school today, so I thought I'd
call and see how you're doing," he said.

Keith sounded friendly. He must be sorry, Beth thought. He
must be calling to apologize for defending Laura at Bumpers.

"I talked to Jana this morning," he said.

Beth froze. Did Jana tell him about what they argued about?
Would she have told him how Beth felt about her body?

"I asked her how you were, and she said fine,"
Keith added.

Thank you, Jana!
Beth said to herself.

"She's right. I'm fine," Beth said aloud. She kept
her voice friendly, but distant.

"How did rehearsal go today?" he asked.

Beth's heart sank when she thought of Laura and her dress,
but she put on a cheerful voice for Keith.

"Oh, just fine," she said.

"I heard that the
Macbeth
curse is at work again
and that a bloody head rolled across the stage," he said with a sinister
laugh.

"It wasn't a bloody head," Beth insisted. "It
was just one of the heads Chet Miller uses in his juggling act. That curse is
just a lot of superstition, anyway."

"Well, it's certainly got everybody at school talking
about it," said Keith.

Beth didn't say anything for a minute. "Laura showed us
her dress today," she said carefully. "I'm sure it'll fit her like a
glove."

"Uh-huh, I heard about it, too."

Word sure travels fast, thought Beth. "Really?"
Beth said.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll look terrific in it."

"Well, I have homework to do," Beth said coldly. "I'd
better get at it."

"Say, what's bugging you, anyway?"

"What makes you think something's bugging me?"

There was a short laugh on Keith's end. "Are you
kidding? You've been mad most of the time since—since—I guess since you started
rehearsing that Halloween skit. Aren't you having fun, or what?"

"Of course I'm having fun!" Beth snapped.

"Then what are you so mad about all the time?" he
demanded.

Without thinking, Beth shouted into the phone, "Well,
how would you feel if there was a football player on your team who didn't know
squat
about the game and
fumbled
every time he got the ball, but everybody
cheered
him and
flirted
with him and thought he was just
wonderful
because he had the biggest
biceps
on the team?"

Beth stopped and her face grew hot. She was glad Keith
couldn't see her red cheeks. There was a long pause and Keith didn't say
anything.

"Well?" Beth said, still angry, but in a lower
tone. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

There was another long pause before Keith spoke. "I
gotta go. We're going to eat supper."

Beth snorted. "It's eight-thirty. Your family always
eats at six."

"So, my dad's late tonight," Keith answered
angrily.

Why am I acting like this? Beth thought miserably. She
wanted so badly to make up, to say that it was okay, that she wasn't mad and
didn't want him to be mad, either. But she couldn't do it, couldn't say the
words. At least not now.

"Yeah, well, I have to do my homework," she said.

"Fine."

She imagined his shrugging her off as if she didn't matter.
She hung up the phone without saying goodbye. I'm such a jerk! she thought. I
just keep messing everything up! What's wrong with me?

"Hi, Pink," Beth said when Jana's stepfather
answered the door. "Is Jana here?"

"Come in," said Pink. "I'll call her."

Beth stepped into the apartment, her heart pounding. She
knew if she and Jana made up, she'd feel a lot better.

Jana walked down the hall toward her. "Hi," she
said softly.

"Hi," Beth said. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure," said Jana. "Come on to my room."

Beth followed her into the neat bedroom. Jana sat at her
desk, and Beth sat on the edge of the bed.

Beth couldn't look at Jana. "I'm sorry about the other
day," she said, staring at the floor.

"That's okay. You had a right to say what you think."

"But I didn't have to act that way to you." After
a pause Beth added, "You're my best friend."

"And you're mine." After another pause, Jana said,
"I guess it's normal for even best friends to fight sometimes."

Beth nodded. "But I don't like it."

"Me, either."

"So, it's over?" Beth asked hopefully. "We're
still friends?"

"We always
were
friends, even when we argued,"
insisted Jana.

"Yeah," Beth said, feeling relieved. "Thanks
for not telling anyone about our fight."

Jana shrugged. "That wouldn't have helped anything."

Beth laughed. "You're right about that. But really,
Jana, thanks for being loyal even when we weren't getting along."

Jana smiled. "It's over."

"It never happened."

"What never happened?" Jana asked, wide-eyed.

They laughed.

"I just wish making up with Keith could be this easy,"
Beth said.

"It will be."

"But how do I do it?" Beth asked, feeling deflated
again.

"Just the way you made up with me. Go over and see him.
And
talk
to him."

Beth shook her head. "I don't know if I can."

"Of course, you can," Jana insisted. "And you'll
be glad you did. Aren't you glad you came here?"

"Sure. But Keith's different."

"Why is Keith different?" Then Jana grinned. "I
mean, besides the obvious reasons."

"Well, it's easy to say 'I'm sorry' to you. You make it
easy because you accept my apology without first saying something like, 'Yeah,
you really were a jerk.'"

Jana laughed. "Keith wouldn't say that."

"Maybe not that," Beth conceded, "but
something else like it."

"Well, I guess you'll never know for sure till you try
it."

Beth sighed. "You're right. I'll talk to him at school
tomorrow. And I'll be nervous between now and then!"