Unforgivable by Jenn Lessmann

Unforgivable by Jenn Lessmann

Author:Jenn Lessmann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jenn Lessmann


CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THE UPSIDE OF being late to tech rehearsal was that everybody was already too stressed out to be mad at me. The stage manager tossed me a headset and the cue sheet and tapped her mic. “She’s here.”

I bolted up the metal spiral staircase to the fly loft, gripping the handrails to keep from slipping. The treads creaked, and the whole thing wobbled more than I liked. At the top, I grabbed a pair of leather gloves I’d set aside and stuffed them into my back pocket. I walked out onto the fly rail, ignoring the fact that I could see all the way down to the stage through the grate under my feet.

Deep breath.

Turning my back to the lines so I could look down at the stage manager’s console, I clicked on the radio and adjusted my headset. The student director, sitting at the tech table somewhere in the audience, had left his channel open.

“If you keep doing it like that, this will take all night. When I tell her to call a cue, it’s because that’s when I want it to happen, right? That’s what warnings are for. If you’re not ready, don’t say Standing when you hear the standby cue. This is not rocket science.”

I cringed for his assistant director, who ran lights for the show. At least go off comms before you ream her out.

The stage manager looked up when she heard my line go live. I gave her a thumbs up. She nodded. “Standby Cue 12.”

“Standing,” I said into the mic.

“It’s about time,” the student director grumbled.

It’s going to be a long night.

When the stage manager called the cue, I pulled down on the rope, bringing in a new backdrop for the next scene.

“Heads!” yelled the stage manager.

I froze, listening to some commotion on the floor. Please tell me the actors were clear. The drops moved quickly, each carrying a weighted baton at the bottom to hold it straight. If somebody stood in the wrong place backstage…

The headset crackled. “What’s happening? Let’s bring it all the way in,” said the director.

I locked off the rope and turned to look down, imagining some idiot freshman crushed under the descending set piece.

“Hello?” said the director. “Let’s go. We’ve got lots of these to do tonight. Take it back out. Let’s run it again.”

“Safety check,” I said into the mic. I didn’t see any bodies on the floor, but the hanging drops blocked my view of the other side of the stage.

“All clear,” said the stage manager. “We’re good. Some of the cast need to learn their tracks, but we’re good. Reset Cue 12.”

“Everything alright back there?” asked the director, sounding more bored than concerned.

“We’re good. A bit of a close call on Fred, but that’s what understudies are for, right?” The stage manager said the last part loud enough for the actor to hear.

“Hey!” he yelled.

“Line 12 going out,” I called before pulling the line back up and locking it down.

We ran the cue again, this time without any near-fatalities, as far as I could tell.



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