Unlocked (34 page)

Or that she might see his eyes the way Kate saw them.

A
LL THE HOURS WALKING THROUGH SCENES AND PRACTICING
with the school band, all the afternoons painting sets and watching the show come to life and finally … finally it had come to this. Ella finished applying the last touches to her makeup. In half an hour they would take the stage for opening night.

They’d do the show three times this weekend —less than half the number of performances the Fulton High drama department had once done. Mr. Hawkins had gone over the numbers with a few of his leads, encouraging them to invite their friends, hand out flyers, and hang posters throughout the school.

“We need to sell out opening night.” He didn’t sound hopeful. “It’s a great show. One of our best. If they come opening night, they’ll come back and they’ll tell their friends.” He explained the situation, but what he didn’t say was how much this show mattered to him. Not so much that they made money for the school, but that the student body might see his swan song. That they would share in the miracle he’d watch unfold through the months. And that they would remember this … his final effort as drama teacher at Fulton High.

“If it doesn’t happen … if they don’t come …” His eyes glistened. “Don’t take it personally. Not everyone appreciates theater.” He looked around the room at each of them one at a time. “But that doesn’t make it less profound.” He nodded slowly. “And what you’ve done these past months as a team has been profound.”

He was talking about Holden, Ella was pretty sure. Everyone
had come to see Holden as the centerpiece of the musical. He was clearly a different guy than he had been at the beginning of the school year. He still didn’t talk to the other kids, but he made up for it with her. All week he’d been looking forward to opening night.

“Seven p.m. Friday night, right, Ella?” “Right, Holden. Seven p.m.” “I’m the Prince.”

Ella laughed. She had come to care deeply for Holden, and more often lately she wondered whether he would keep improving, keep finding his way back to normal. Sometimes when he was watching her, when his forever blue eyes seemed to reflect his belief that all people were kind, and no one had ever been mean to him or bullied him, when he looked so intently at her that she wondered if he could read her thoughts, Ella would almost feel herself falling for him. This handsome friend she’d known since her baby days.

But unless he kept coming back … he would never see her as more than he’d seen her when they were three years old. A relationship at this point was out of the question. Ridiculous, even.

She slipped into her first costume—the blue dress—and took a last look at herself in the full-length mirror. Six months ago she could’ve played the part, but her acting would’ve been shallow, her portrayal of Belle only skin deep. Now, though, she felt passionate about the character. A girl willing to see the beauty in someone everyone else had pushed aside, a young woman helping in the transformation of a guy with a heart of gold.

Yes, Ella could relate to the character of Belle. She would play it with everything she had, and she would know at least this much: if
Beauty and the Beast
were the last show to grace the stage of Fulton High, people would remember it.

She hurried from the dressing room to the classroom just off the stage. The place was bustling with activity. The kid playing
the Candlestick was having trouble with his flame and someone was tacking the hands of the clock onto Cogsworth. A group of moms had volunteered to do costumes, and now one of them had a needle and thread in her hand. “Velcro isn’t working. It’s time to sew these hands on.”

Mr. Hawkins was sitting nearby, looking over the script one last time. He didn’t seem to notice the trouble with Cogsworth.

“You know what they say —” The kid shrugged. “A stitch in time saves …” He looked at a passing townsperson. “What does it save?”

“Nine.” The girl giggled. “It saves nine.”

“Nine what?” Cogsworth waited, but when no one answered, he shrugged again. “Whatever. As long as I get a stitch in time.” He laughed at his own joke, and the volunteer parent kept sewing.

“Twenty minutes, people.” Mr. Hawkins was feeling the pressure —that much showed on his face. But his tone was kind and patient. If this was their last show, like everyone in the cast their teacher was determined to enjoy it.

Ella was used to this, the chaos that took place backstage before any show —especially opening night. But she wanted to find Holden. None of this would be normal for him and Ella worried that the confusion would make him forget his song, the words and the melody. He still did push-ups every now and then. Once during a dress rehearsal.
But not tonight, Jesus … please, not tonight.

She had a feeling where she’d find him. More than once during the last week she found Holden in the prop room, all by himself, counting the buttons on various costumes. Ella darted down a short hallway and opened the last door on the left. Sure enough.

Holden was dressed in his costume, looking every bit the Prince. But he wasn’t counting buttons. He was holding his hands out in front of him, turning in wide, graceful circles —dancing with an imaginary partner. He stopped and turned when
he heard her enter the room. “Opening night.” He smiled, his eyes bright. “Seven p.m.”

“That’s right.” She held her hand out to him and Holden took it. They held hands regularly now. Ella figured he could tolerate the physical touch because it took him back to their childhood, when they held hands constantly. Otherwise, Holden was still sensitive to anything too sensory. That was the word she came across whenever she googled autism. Too much sensory stimulation and a person on the autistic spectrum would shut down or burst into a tantrum. In Holden’s case, he would drop to the ground and do push-ups. His mother had told her yesterday that they’d solved that mystery too. Push-ups meant he wanted his dad. The revelation only made her care more for Holden.

She stopped near the door, their hands still linked. “You’re a good dancer, Holden. You don’t have to practice.”

“Practice before opening night.” He nodded, his eyes downcast, almost shy. “I’m a Prince. Seven p.m.” He met her eyes and like so often, he began to sing. “Tale as old as time … True as it can be.”

His voice melted her. She took in his broad shoulders and tall stature, the smooth complexion and always piercing blue eyes. “Yes, Holden.” She smiled. “You’re definitely a prince.” She led him down the hallway and out with the others. He still didn’t like to be rushed, didn’t like being in the middle of chaos. So Ella was careful to sit with him in the back of the room. By then people were settling down, just ten minutes before curtains would go up.

It was only then that Ella heard a sound that made her heart hesitate. The walls backstage were paper thin, and a crowd of people could usually be heard. Certainly by now if the theater was filling up, they would hear something. But that was just it.

The sound Ella heard was silence. Nothing.

Holden released her hand and squirmed in his seat. He sensed things better than other people, and this was one of those
moments. Ella hid her disappointment in the deepest basement of her heart. “This will be fun, Holden. You’re going to do great.” “Seven p.m.”

“That’s right, Holden. Seven p.m.”

By now his parents would be here, and her mom. too. Her dad was even going to try to make it. Ella smiled at the picture of both her parents sitting in the audience together. She and her mom had talked more lately, and Ella had a feeling they would talk more when the show was over. But for now she was too busy. Holden deserved all her attention. This was about to be his shining moment—his second shining moment. And if her classmates showed up the way she’d asked them to at Michael’s memorial, then today would mark a turning point for all of Fulton.

She’d talked to LaShante, but her friend hadn’t heard whether people were coming. “I’ll talk to them,” she said. “Sometimes I wonder if anyone even remembers what happened to Michael.”

LaShante had been coming to church with Ella since Christmas, and both of them had prayed for tonight’s performance.

“I have a surprise,” she told Ella yesterday. “I can’t promise you anyone will be there. But I still have a surprise.”

Surprise or not, Ella struggled against the disappointment flooding her heart. If no one showed up tonight, the performance would be weakened by an empty auditorium. The death sentence for the drama program and Mr. Hawkins. Maybe God’s plans were different than they had hoped.

Holden shifted, more uneasy than before.

I can’t do this, God … I can’t be discouraged. Holden deserves more than that. Please … help me.
She sat up straighter and found the smile that had faded in the last few minutes.

“It’s okay, Holden. Everything’s okay.”

He nodded, rocking the way he did when he wasn’t sure. Then he grinned at her and sang in his softest voice. “Ever just the same …” His song was so soft no one but her could hear him.
Especially because the other kids were still settling down, grabbing last-minute costume pieces and adjusting their hair, finding their props. Holden found the next line about the surprises in life.

“That’s right, Holden.” Ella tilted her head. Could he know her uncertainty … the fact that she feared the surprise of an empty auditorium? “Ever a surprise.”

A look of hope danced in Holden’s eyes. “I prayed.”

“You prayed?” She loved this kid, the way his heart was so pure. “You prayed for our show?”

He hesitated, his gaze off to the distance for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I prayed for the seats.”

“The seats? In the auditorium?”

“One thousand fifty-three seats.” His answer came quickly. “I prayed for one thousand fifty-three seats.”

“You counted them?” Ella tried to imagine when Holden had found time during the rehearsal to count each seat in the theater.

“Really?”

“One thousand fifty-three.”

Ella wanted to hug him, hold onto him and promise him that if he’d prayed for every seat in the auditorium, then certainly God would make sure they were filled. But she wasn’t sure.

“You did the right thing, Holden. Keep praying, okay?”

He hesitated, and for a few seconds he looked more confused than he had in a long while. Then he stood and walked across the room, grabbed his backpack, and brought it back to his seat beside her. He unzipped it and began sifting through the contents. He was looking for his PECS cards, something he hadn’t done in more than a month. They must’ve fallen to the bottom of his bag, but he finally grabbed onto them and started sorting through them. The old Holden all over again.

“Holden …”

He didn’t hear her, didn’t acknowledge the presence of her voice.

“Holden, you don’t need those cards … You can do this. You can talk to me.”

Slowly … very slowly he stopped sifting through the flash cards. He took one from the deck and set the rest carefully inside his backpack. Then he handed the card to her.

She took it, surprised. This wasn’t one she’d seen before. It was covered with music notes and in the center was a heart. There were no words, but the message was obvious. “You love the music? Is that it, Holden?”

He smiled, a shy sort of smile. “That for you, Ella. Because hearts are for love.”

“Love for the music?” She wasn’t sure she understood him. And even as the most wonderful feeling came over her, she wanted to be sure. “Hearts for loving the music?”

“Hearts …” He looked at her, straight into her soul. “Hearts for you, Ella. Hearts are for love.” For a few seconds he wrung his fingers together, fighting the nervousness that was trying to consume him. “Hearts are for love.”

Ella looked at the card. She would save it forever, in a place where she could see it. Because she was pretty sure no one had ever loved her as much as Holden Harris loved her in this moment. He loved her enough to fight his uneasiness and tell her exactly how he was feeling. She blinked back tears. “Can I hug you?”

“No.” He might’ve seen the irony in his answer, because he gave a nervous laugh. Then he reached out and took her hand. “Beauty and the Beast.”

She smiled at him. They had nothing to fear tonight. The musical they were about to perform was a party, a celebration. No matter who was in attendance. They had prayed for a miracle, and God had given it to them in a song. Ella’s research told her that faith alone didn’t always account for unlocking a person trapped in the private world of autism. God was with Holden, whether he lived somewhere in his own world, or here with the rest of them.
In his own world he spent his days hearing the music and praying for everyone, every hour. He cherished precious memories and he had found a way to be near his father, even when the man was thousands of miles away at sea. Yes, Holden was fine.

The miracle wasn’t for Holden, it was for the people who loved him.

And in this case, God had given them music as a way to reach Holden. That, and the memory of their long-ago friendship. Ella held a little more tightly to Holden’s hand. The friend beside her had changed her life. Because of him, she would never be the same again, and neither would anyone who came to see the play tonight.

Even if most of the one thousand fifty-three seats were empty.

T
RACY HAD THE STRANGEST FEELING AS SHE AND
D
AN WALKED
from the parking lot to the theater that night. Kate was already inside. She’d come early with the family of a friend so both girls could pass out programs. They were running later than Tracy liked, but she suddenly stopped short of the front door—off to the side and out of the way of other people arriving. She turned to Dan. The two of them wore their Sunday best, dressed up for a performance they never dreamed they’d get to see.

“You know how I feel?” She tilted her head, the cool spring breeze dancing in the air around them.

Dan allowed a quiet laugh. “If you’re like me, you’re scared to death.” His smile faded. “What if he can’t do this … I hate the thought that maybe we’re setting him up.”

“Dan …” A calm confidence came over Tracy. “He’ll do it. He’s been perfect at every dress rehearsal.”