Sunday, May 27, 2007

Shadows have offended

When I got back from the play rehearsal on Friday, I ran into Arne in the kitchen.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Staying here," he said. He was overloading the blender with carrots.
"What happened? I thought Ivar fixed the building," I said.
"He did. Then this week, when I was watching Girls With Low Self Esteem on SpikeCanada, Wilco got all upset, and started staring at this tree near the corner of the building. I think he was trying to warn me that it was rotten. Anyway, the tree crashed, my roof's damaged, and we're here. You've got better cable." Wilco hopped by right then, and I think he smirked, but you can't be sure with rabbits.
I walked into the living room and saw my brother doing something with my father's laptop.
"What are you doing to Dad's laptop?"
Charles Wallace looked up. "I'm circumventing The Beaver's vote-counting protocols so Mom can vote for Brian Mulroney as Worst Canadian as many times as she wants."
"Good. When's she's finished I'll vote for the head of the English department." I had just come from another afternoon of being told to be less tall. The play director was talking about trying something with wheels for me to be onstage. It didn't sound like it would work, but Jeremy said he'd give it a try.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

In the bleak midvernal

I keep on trying to get out, but they keep pulling me back in. Last week my marking job was terminated. I was too tough on the grade 9s, apparently. I had more spare time, at least, so I could research summer jobs. I wasn't sure if I would still be at the public library, since I was starting university in the fall. Then yesterday, when I was helping Zenobia pick out a laptop to take to Waterloo, the head of the English department came up behind us in the library.
"Miss Larson," he said portentiously. I started.
"Oh, what now," I asked. "Did Steve Harper say I broke the gestetner again, because it's not true."
"No, the duplicating equipment is fine. But we do need a favour again." When did Al Pacino become head of my high school English department, I thought.
"Yes?" Zenobia was trying not to laugh at the tutoring table.
"We're having some problems with the drama club's Shakespeare production..." I had a bad feeling about what was coming next.
"Do I have to act again?"
"Yes. Half the cast finished their community service on Monday, so we're down quite a few roles. Here's your script." He handed me a bulky envelope. I opened it and pulled out a badly-gestetnered script.
"You want me to play Puck?! What the hell?!"
"I know, it's a stretch, but none of the other problem students can handle so large a role."
"I'm five foot ten, and female. How the hell am I supposed to be convincing as a fairy, who happens to be male?" This was not looking good at all.
"I'm sure the director will think of something." This was worse than Arne's "Lunenberg Lobster" illusion. "This will all be worth your while, Miss Larson."
"It better be. I'm so glad this is my last year here." The department head said something about the library job, and left. Zenobia starting giggling once he was out the library door.
"I know, I know. Beat me, whip me, make me act Shakespeare. How come the math department doesn't do this shit to you?"
"I'm just waiting to see how you'll look as a tiny, tiny man. I think you're taller than everyone they've got in that production."
"You could at least pretend to feel sorry for me, Zenobia." She kept on giggling, even on her way out to have a cigarette.