Timeless (38 page)

Shan't I have the normal life a maiden
should?

Shall I never be rescued in the wood?

Shall two knights never tilt for me

and let their blood be spilt for me?

Oh where are the simple joys of
maidenhood?

Shall I not be on a pedestal,

Worshipped and competed for?

Not be carried off, or better still,

Cause a little war?

Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?

Are those sweet, gentle pleasures gone for
good?

Shall a feud not begin for me?

Shall kith not kill their kin for me?

Oh where are the trivial joys?

Harmless, convivial joys?

Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?

I don’t know how she made it through the
first three verses, which were painful to hear and even more
painful to watch, but right as she lamented that kith were not
killing their kin for her, one of Zack’s little brothers,
eight-year-old Tommy, threw the better part of a pudding container
at her and began laughing. That set off the less mature section of
the senior class who were sitting at the back, and their laughter
began the ripple effect up the auditorium and right to the stage.
Even Ben, who, as King Arthur, stood behind one of the props to
watch her sing, had a hard time controlling it.

Angela ran offstage, and Mr. Ormond literally
pushed me on. The show, it seemed, had to go on.

Ms. Shoemaker struck up the opening lines to
the song again, and for a brief moment, I froze. I looked over at
Damien’s smiling, handsome face, took courage, and began.

The rest of the show progressed without
incident. Angela fumed in the wings, but no one paid her any
attention. And taking into consideration the rough start we’d had,
I thought the performance went well. Aunt Jo sat on the front row
cheering me on, and I didn’t forget any lines or song lyrics. After
my first song, everyone had clapped for me, giving a huge boost to
my confidence, and Damien had squeezed my arm when we had our first
scene together, despite our needing to maintain distance. Guinevere
disliked Lancelot at the beginning, only realizing her love for him
later. This had been the most difficult part of the musical for me,
but we got through it smoothly.

We passed the difficult scene where we’d had
trouble during the rehearsal. Lancelot had already rescued me, and
we were turning to exit when I felt it. Something was strange, and
a chill ran down my spine. It wasn’t stage fright. I looked at
Ramona, who waited in the wings to powder our noses between scenes.
She met my eyes. So she’d felt it too.

Three women had walked in, though I could
only see their shadows. Intuitively, of course, I knew. When the
lights came on at the end of the show, I looked at the back of the
auditorium and saw them more clearly. Each of them looked alike, as
if they were sisters. They each had dark brown hair and black eyes
so piercing that I could see them from the stage. They reminded me
of Lamia.

I blinked, and they were gone.

When we took our bows at the end and the
applause had ended, I looked for Ramona, dodging eager students and
parents who congratulated me on my theater debut. Obviously, they
hadn’t seen Oklahoma! I thought.

After several minutes of fruitless searching,
I thought Ramona had already left, but then I saw her dark head
bending over to collect cast-off wigs behind the stage.

“Ramona!” I called, running over to her.

We looked at each other for a second before
speaking.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“I couldn’t get a clear read. I need a quiet
place to concentrate,” she answered.

“But there’s no doubt?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Witches,” we said together, shuddering. They
weren’t the good kind…