Mary Margaret, Center Stage by Christine Kole MacLean

Author:Christine Kole MacLean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2010-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

That afternoon, I am excited to practice my lines at home. But even before I open the door, I can hear Liza, and she is doing what she does best—crying. My dad says that Liza has turned our house into a crying factory. “Cries?” he says, when I walk through the kitchen. “You need ‘em? We got ’em! Loud cries, soft cries, whimpers, and yells. We got ’em all, and they are priced to sell. We’re running a special on shrieks this afternoon. Two for the price of a smile. You interested?”

“No,” I say, dropping my backpack on the table and clapping my hands over my ears. “Why can’t you just put tape over her mouth?” I say.

“We’ve been through all that, Mary Margaret,” says my dad. “You know we tested all kinds of tape, and there just isn’t one strong enough to keep our little Liza’s lips together.” He’s joking. They haven’t really tried taping her mouth closed.

I pull the script out of my backpack and tell him that I’m going to Andy’s. I hope that he’s there. I find him in the backyard, playing fetch with Itzy.

“Where were you?” I ask, because he wasn’t on the bus, and it’s not a violin lesson day.

“At the dentist.” He throws the tennis ball. It bounces off a tree. Andy is excellent at the violin but not so good at anything sporty. That’s why I think the tie he’s wearing today is kind of funny. It has golf clubs on it.

Itzy runs the ball back to us. “Is that a new tie?” I ask.

“Yeah. My grandpa bought it for me, so my mom says I have to wear it sometimes.” Andy pulls his arm back to throw the ball again.

“I guess he wants you to play golf, huh?”

Andy drops his arm to his side and scratches his forehead. “I don’t know. Do you think so? He does play golf.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of ‘dropping a hint’?” I say.

“I guess, but I didn’t think a tie could be a hint.” Andy throws the ball again. It bounces off the basement window. Good thing he doesn’t throw very hard.

“Mr. Mooney said I can be an understudy for Cinderella.” I hold up my script. “Want to help me practice?”

We read through some parts of the play. I remember to pronunciate very loudly. Mr. Mooney says we should use our whole bodies to act, so I also wave my arms around a lot. I use my whole body so well that once I accidentally whap Andy right on the cheek. He is looking at his script, so he doesn’t see my arm come flying toward his face.

“Owww!” he says.

“Sorry!” I say.

“You’ve been doing that the whole time.”

“No, I haven’t. That’s the only time I hit you.”

“I don’t mean hitting. I mean being showy.”

“What do you mean, showy?”

“Like in an orchestra—if you make big movements with the bow when no one else is or if you move too much with the music—that’s showy. Anything that makes the audience look at just you.

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