Phoebe heard Piper before she could see her. She quickly finished attaching the lion's mane to one child's costume, before turning towards the gym door. Piper had somehow managed to prop it open with her foot as she juggled the groceries Phoebe had asked her to bring. But now she couldn't get through the doorway and she was muttering angrily under her breath, as the bags threatened to slip from her arms.
"Okay, help now." Piper caught sight of her sister as she peered over the food piled high in the bags.
"I said some snacks, not every snack in the state." Phoebe rushed over and grabbed the food that was spilling around her. Then she took two of the bags from her sister, glancing at the groceries inside. Finally Piper could push her way through the door.
"Well I didn't know how much the kids wanted." Piper followed Phoebe over to the stage, where the students quickly mobbed them. There was a sudden whirlwind of activity and the next thing Phoebe knew the bags were empty. She glanced around as the kids disappeared behind the stage without so much as a thank you. Then she looked back at Piper who simply shrugged.
"Okay then." Phoebe clasped her hands together. "That's taken care of. So how'd the delivery go?"
"Wonderful." Piper brushed the hair out of her eyes in one quick motion, obviously irritated. "The delivery man brought the wrong thing and a whole lot of it. Now instead of lemon, people will be squeezing pickle juice into their water."
"What?"
"Don't worry," she sighed. "I made him take it back, but not before a very long lecture on the pros and cons of waking someone up in the morning for a delivery of one hundred and fifty jars of pickles!"
"What was on the pro's side of that little list?"
"The fact that I let him walk away on both legs."
"Wow." Phoebe grimaced. Obviously today was not a good day to mess with Piper. She would have to keep that in mind. "You really woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."
"Or maybe it was the fact that I didn't wake up in a bed at all." Piper gave her a tight smile.
"Okay then, wrong side of the floor," Phoebe corrected herself.
"Whatever," Piper said. "I'm done worrying about it." She pushed herself up onto the stage then sat there, legs dangling, waiting expectantly. Phoebe watched her for a second, wondering if she was going to be dealing with cranky Piper or normal Piper today. She wasn't quite sure. There was a long pause, before Piper leaned forward. "Phoebe, you still with me?"
"What?" Phoebe snapped back to attention.
"Well, you wanted me here. You're supposed to be the director right?" Piper said with a small smile. "So come on, direct."
"All right," Phoebe grinned at her sister's small show of enthusiasm. She'd piled the scripts on the edge of the stage, and she grabbed for one, handing it over to Piper. The script was considerably fatter than the previous day, and Piper eyed Phoebe as she tested its weight in her hands.
"Did the story get longer?"
"I did a few revisions." She saw Piper's skeptical look. "You know, just to modernize it. So most of your scenes will be with Danny over there, otherwise known as Head Winged Monkey guy. He's a little shy, and a little too grown up in some ways but…"
"Phoebe, you've added ten or twenty pages here." Piper flipped through the script, her eyes skimming over sections of it. She glanced up at her sister after a moment, reading the directions Phoebe had typed out. "The Wicked Witch and Dorothy have heart to heart about what it's like to be a woman in a male dominated world?"
"Hey, it's the new millennium."
"And yet there's a reason why they call it a classic." Piper rolled her eyes as she hopped down from the stage.
"Are you the director?" Phoebe shook her head then pointed an authoritative finger at her. "No. You are the actor." She turned Piper, pushing her in the direction of Danny's dressing room. "So go, make me proud."
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Danny peeked between his dressing room curtains, watching anxiously as Piper approached. There was something about her. He didn't know what it was, but for some reason he knew she was special. And she was coming his way.
"Hey." Piper stopped in front of his dressing room as Danny stepped out. She smiled and stuck out her hand. "I'm Piper, remember? I'll be your Wicked Witch for the day."
"I'm Danny." He took her hand and shook it, holding it a little longer than he had meant to. But Piper didn't seem to notice. Still, he could feel his face growing red as he finally let go of her hand. He quickly turned back into his dressing room and grabbed the script from his table. He glanced from the pages to her, trying to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jason, the scarecrow boy, would call it a crush. But somehow it was more than that. It was a connection.
Danny smiled back at Piper. "So where do you want to start?"
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As the steeple came into view, Prue felt every muscle in her body grow tense. The church looked different in the daylight and now a much bigger and much more modern building dwarfed the old theater. She could still remember driving down the very same street six months ago, frantically trying to get to her sisters. She had been late. For once she had put work as her top priority and that decision had led to disastrous results. It was no wonder she was always rushing off whenever Phoebe called her. Family came first. She had learned that the hard way.
And Piper... She was never quite sure how Piper had felt after that night. Prue had never been able to ask. She wasn't sure if it was her own guilt or concern for her sister that kept her from bringing it up. But either way they had never really talked about it, not since they'd found Piper in that horrible storm. Somehow she had always imagined that if she just let it go, then Piper might heal, and maybe just maybe, Prue would be able to forgive herself. But that forgiveness still hadn't come and she could feel the guilt creeping up on her as she stared at the building.
Finally, she shook her head, trying to rid herself of those horrible memories. But she only managed to push them into the back of her mind. There would be no erasing them. Still, she was on an assignment. As she pulled into the parking space she kept reminding herself of that. It was the only thing that prevented her from putting the car in reverse and speeding away.
Prue took a deep breath as she stepped out the door. She only hoped that she wouldn't be recognized. There had been a lot of confusion that night, she remembered, and Inspector Morris had done a pretty good job of keeping them out of it. Prue bit her lip as she stood on the steps of the community center. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled the door open. She was about to find out just how good a job Darryl had done.
Once inside, she was greeted by an older woman, whose cheerful expression only made Prue more nervous. As she approached, the woman stuck out her hand and Prue shook it tentatively. The woman stared at her through her thick glasses and looked far too eager to meet her. Prue was ready to turn around and walk out the door, but she knew that she had to face the situation sooner or later. She just wished that she didn't have to face it with the grinning woman shaking her hand.
"You must be Prue," the woman said quickly. "I'm Ida Harris. We're so glad you're here. We didn't really think there'd be such an interest in the new Faith Evans community center."
"Well, there is," Prue said, trying to smile. This is probably my punishment for not being there she thought, pretending to be interested in the woman Piper accidentally killed. If there was a hell, Prue figured she'd found it.
"Yes, yes of course." The woman nodded, then gave Prue a sly smile. "But I guess we both know that this probably has more to do with Faith's death than the new community center."
Prue felt her heart fall into her stomach, and she tried not to show her sudden panic. Already Ida had brought up the one thing that Prue did not want to hear about. She started to unpack her camera abruptly, hoping that the woman would change the subject.
"You know you should probably do the story on Faith anyway. The theater is just a way of letting people talk about her without being morbid," Ida continued. Prue bit her lip. Look who's being morbid now. But Ida just kept smiling. "Everybody wants to know about her. She was such a sweet woman."
"I'm sure she was," Prue mumbled, trying to focus her camera. "But really I think I should be…"
"She was our theater director, you know," the woman cut her off as she led Prue out of the lobby and further into the building. "She worked here for quite a few years, running the plays and such. She led the Christmas pageant every year..." Ida slowed and gave Prue a meaningful look. "Except for this last one of course. It showed a week after she died. That was the last time we used the old theater."
Prue nodded, brushing the hair back behind her ears. She didn't know what to say, so she let the woman ramble on, as they continued their way through the building. Somehow they had completely bypassed the actual theater and then they were at the end of the hall. Just as Prue was about to turn around, Ida shoved open the exit door.
"Here, let me show you what the first theater looks like," she said as she stepped out the door. Just beyond her Prue saw the old building with its dark brick walls and flattened roof. She paused in the doorway, staring at the theater. It looked much less menacing in the daylight. But it still brought back memories that Prue didn't want to think about. They were facing the back wall, and she could still see Piper huddled there in the rain. "Come on, you'll get a much better appreciation for the new theater if you have something to compare it to."
"I really don't think..." Prue shook her head slowly, still staring at the building. "I mean I probably shouldn't waste your time like this. I'm sure you're very busy."
"Nonsense." Ida grinned at her, then grabbed her arm and led her down the long walkway that curved around towards the entrance. "Besides this will give us more time to talk."
"Oh good." Prue tried to sound excited as the woman pulled her along.
"You want to see it, don't you?" She gave Prue a conspiratorial look. They were fast approaching the front door that she'd entered that night. "The place where Faith died, you want to see it."
"Actually, no," Prue said, surprised at how creepy this tour was becoming. Everyone seemed to have this strange curiosity about Faith Evans, everyone except her that was. "I don't really think I need to... you know... It just seems wrong."
"That's a first." The woman seemed taken aback. "Every reporter and photographer from here to Bakersfield wants to see this place. No matter though. Nothing looks the same. It's mostly empty since they'll be tearing it down next month."
"Seems like a good idea," Prue said, gently pulling her arm from Ida's iron grasp. She breathed a sigh of relief as they turned away from the old theater and headed back towards the community center.
"Yeah, well, our new priest certainly didn't want to see it." Ida shook her head as they walked across the pavement. "Poor man. He came in under such strange circumstances. "
"It must have been hard," Prue said. She'd nearly forgotten about the priest. And now that the woman brought it up, she felt the slightest tinge of curiosity herself. She had never discussed any of this with her sisters, and now that they had passed the unpleasant details of Faith's death, Prue felt herself wanting to know more, wanting to understand why things had happened the way that they did. "So, um, did anyone ever figure out why she attacked him?"
"No," the woman said. "But Faith paid for it, poor woman. She paid with her life."
"And no one is sure how she died?" Prue had to know, just to be safe.
"They say that the priest must have done it, you know, after she stabbed him," Ida explained. "But I saw the man when they wheeled him out. There's no way he could have done it." The woman moved closer to Prue, nearly stepping on her feet as they walked. She dropped her voice, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "No, someone else was there that night. I can guarantee you of that."
Prue pretended not to hear that last part as they made their way across the grass.