Only in the Movies by William Bell

Author:William Bell [Bell, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-37437-0
Publisher: Doubleday Canada
Published: 2009-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

He delivered the lines as if he was at a baseball game, yelling down the bleachers for a hot dog. Behind me I heard Vanni struggling to control her laughter. At this point in the scene, Chad/Juliet had most of the lines, and he plowed through them with determination, as if slogging through deep snow. Panofsky must have had a reason, besides Chad’s good looks, for choosing him over the half-dozen other guys who had auditioned for the part, but if Chad had even a molecule of talent, he certainly wasn’t showing it.

And then I realized why he sounded so awkward and unconvincing. He was embarrassed speaking a girl’s lines, especially in a romantic scene. Alba was brilliant, even though she was—for today, at least—Romeo. The poetry was moving and emotional. Chad felt foolish, so he didn’t try. Which meant Alba was the true professional.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? ” Alba/Romeo asked plaintively.

“Come on up here, baby, and I’ll give you all the satisfaction you need,” Chad laughed. “You’ll be so satisfied you’ll never look at another man for the rest of your—”

But Alba cut in, remaining in character, and dragged Chad back into the scene. They went on. Vanni shuffled her feet restlessly.

Then Chad/Juliet intoned, “Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.”

“Get ready,” Vanni whispered at my back as Alba/Romeo wound up the scene.

“Okay!” came Chad’s voice from the other side of the leg. “We’re done. Now I can get off this stupid bal—”

“Chad, would you mind staying up there for a moment?” Alba said sweetly.

And she coughed.

I felt Vanni’s hand on my shoulder and her breath light on my ear as she spoke softly.

“Chad, it was easy for me to say my lines today …”

Vanni paused. I spoke through the unpainted canvas to Alba, then heard her repeat, “Chad, it was easy for me to say my lines today.”

Then the voice at my ear: “Because I meant every word.”

The sentence went from me, to Alba, to Chad.

“You meant every word?” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

Then, “I feel the same about you as Juliet does about Romeo,” Vanni whispered.

“I feel the same about you as Juliet does about Romeo,” I said to the canvas as if the words came from my own heart.

“I feel the same about you as Juliet does about Romeo.” It all sounded sweeter somehow, coming from Alba.

“But you were saying Romeo’s lines,” Chad replied.

“What a bonehead!” from Vanni.

“What a bonehead!” from me.

Alba said, “What a—” and stopped herself with another cough.

“Ow!” I blurted when Vanni twisted my ear.

“But it doesn’t matter, Chad, don’t you see?” Vanni slipped back into form and the murmured relay system took up again. “Whatever love Romeo feels for Juliet, or Juliet for Romeo, is equalled by my feelings for you.”

“Oh,” Chad said in wonder after a second or two. “You mean it?”

“And whenever I say Shakespeare’s words, no matter whose part I’m playing, it’s as if I’m singing a love song I wrote myself—for you.

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