Here's How I See It--Here's How It Is by Heather Henson

Author:Heather Henson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Published: 2009-04-28T00:00:00+00:00

III.

HERE’S HOW I SEE IT:

Now that I know what Lelia is really and truly like, I keep my distance. I tell myself I will never again be wrapped around anybody’s little finger.

HERE’S HOW IT IS:

“Hey, Junebug, I have something for you!”

Lelia plops down in the chair beside me right before morning rehearsal is set to begin and holds something out to me.

“I had my roommate in New York overnight it to me. I thought I still had a copy of this from school.”

It’s a book. The cover is torn along one edge and shows a faded drawing of a girl with flowers in her hair.

Madame Sarah.

“It’s kind of old, but it’s the most comprehensive biography about her. It has pictures and everything.” Lelia leans her shoulder into mine. I pull away slightly, but Lelia doesn’t notice. She’s flipping through the pages. I can smell lilacs again.

“There, see?” Lelia finds the photo section and holds it open for me.

The pictures are in black and white. One shows a woman with frizzy hair and (yes) a big nose, her face turned upward, her pale arms reaching for the sky.

One of her finest roles, Phèdre in Racine’s classic, the caption reads.

“She was pretty eccentric,” Lelia continues, flipping to another photo. “See? Here’s a picture of her in her famous coffin.”

“You mean there’s a picture of her dead?”

“No, no!” Lelia’s laugh whinnies out. “She kept a coffin in her dressing room, and she would lie in it before a performance. She had terrible stage fright—she would get physically sick—and it calmed her nerves, lying in a coffin, for some reason.” Lelia makes a face. “Isn’t that weird?”

I nod wordlessly, flipping through the pages myself. In a few photos Madame Sarah is dressed like a man, and I wonder if that means she played men’s roles, which is funny when you stop to think about it, because in the really old days of theater, only men could play women’s roles. (I know this without Thespis telling me, thank you very much.)

“Five minutes,” Coleman’s voice calls out.

The other actors are flooding the room. It’s nearly time for rehearsal to begin.

“Well, I just thought you’d like to borrow the book,” Lelia says, with a shrug and a smile.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Lelia nudges my shoulder like we have a secret we’re sharing. “Madame Junebug.”

The knot is back.

Am I being wrapped again?

I don’t know. But I like the book. It’s pretty cool.

“Oh, there you are, Junebug.”

Now it’s Dad, in Roadrunner mode, coming to a skidding stop beside me.

“How now, Daddy-o?” I ask. I’ve hardly seen him at all. He wasn’t home when I got back from Mama Duvall’s last night. And he looks like he hasn’t slept much. There are dark circles under his green eyes.

Plenty of time to rest in the grave!

“I know you were planning to do the Props for this show, as usual….” Dad leans down to my level.

“Sure.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but it is. I like when Dad asks me to do Props, because it means I’m good at it.

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