I drug my husband to a flea market this morning just because it seemed fitting.
This one is still a little short, but I'm working on getting back. Please don't hate me. If you find typos - I have so much trouble finding my own until I read it published...don't know why - feel free to pm and I'll fix as many as I can.
Also, I actually posted a blog post for Helga. It's short, but I may do more drabbles just for fun. Find it at hells-and-bells username on tumblr.
Helga's playlist: watch?v=ZVq9edB3HcM/ on youtube
p.s. - Did go back and get typos. Ouch
The question is not whether I've treated you rudely but whether you've ever heard me treat anyone else better. - Henry Higgins
Friday- Flea Market – 5 weeks out
The morning went by quicker than I had expected it to – we managed to kill two hours with very little effort needed. The majority of the flea market's larger stalls didn't have much for us to focus on, mainly being large selections of cheaply made household odds an ends or housing rows and rows of phone cases. The open air stalls ended up being a better bet for us, with people bringing in their odds and ends from home. We managed to gather some cheap champagne glasses as well as a few other side pieces to flesh out our set. We had no luck finding a parasol suiting Rhonda's standards, but Helga shrugged it off when I suggested trying someone else for it. She said "It was her executive decision, and Rhonda would suck it up because we weren't going to Where's Waldo for a parasol when we had at least ten in the prop room." There was also and offhanded comment that if Rhonda wanted such a specific one, she could afford it from her own budget.
"Are you going to tell her she has to buy her own?" I asked sliding into one of the booths at the small diner area. I finished counting what leftover cash I had and jotted the number down on the my ever trusty clipboard. We hadn't spent a lot, but then again, it wasn't like we had a lot to start with.
"I'm going to tell her she can use what we have, and if it's not good enough for her highness, then I'm not going to stop her from buying one. That's no skin off my nose." She picked up one of the nachos she'd gotten, the thick processed cheese dripping in globs back onto the remaining chips in the tray. "Nachos are one of better things in life. Smothering food in cheese should be a standard." She rubbed her fingers on a napkin before pointing at my clipboard, gesturing I should slide it to her. I did, slightly curious as to how brave you had to be to eat flea market nachos. She continued to pop them in her mouth, crunches filling the dead air between us as she skimmed the notes I'd made on the list. "Overall, we have most all we need. We still gotta squeeze in that fundraiser so we can help cushion what we have, though. We'll discuss that with Simmons and cast Monday." She pushed the board back to me, scooping up her empty container and tossing it into the garbage can as she headed to the door. "Let's go home."
You don't argue with a lady, so I gathered my things and we headed out to the truck.
Monday – Just over 4 weeks till opening Night.
I had meant to do more over the weekend than sleep and sketch, but it didn't end up happening that way. Helga had texted me to remind me that we needed to take time on Monday to talk with Simmons about finalizing our plans. There had been the little offhanded comment about us only have about a month left to go. And you're like okay, cool, a month – and then it hits you that it is indeed NOT cool because that leaves only about nine more actual rehearsal days before dress rehearsal, and I was a shit (excuse my French) stage manager because I hadn't even finished putting all the pieces in the set OR finalized painting and arranging the set, and I was having a near panic attack and had been trying to tell myself to breathe ever since I had arrived at school. It hadn't hit me how much stuff I had to do to make sure everyone else looked good until I had checked the calendar. I was still stressing as I sorted books in my locker, also reminding myself that opening night for this play also meant something else looming over my brain – Graduation. College applications. Leaving people, loosing people -
"Yo Stage Manger 'o mine, have you heard like any of that statement?"
I yelped, wincing as I managed to smack the back of my head on the edge of the locker. I sheepishly rubbed the back of my head, turning around to find Helga looking at me with what appeared to be half worry, half annoyance.
"I heard the end of the statement. Yes," I lied, nodding my head.
She scanned my face, then rolled her eyes before flicking my forehead with her finger. "You're such a liar. Did you bring the bags or not?"
"Of-?" I asked hesitantly, trying not to betray my confusion in my facial expression as I managed to close my locker behind me.
"Oh my Goooood, the props?"
"Oh! Oh yeah, I have them! They're in my truck!" I said, relief briefly washing over me as I realized I hadn't messed up something else.
"Great. Bring them in later. Oh, and take this." She flipped open the flap of her bag, pulling out something wrapped in a paper towel. "You look like you need this." She then quickly marched off, the slight pink I had begun to anticipate starting to grow as she did so. I looked down, pulling at the paper to reveal a slightly squashed, but still in one-piece blueberry muffin. I grinned.
"Aww, you got my muffin!"
I looked over to see Gerald with his smug grin beside me, and my grin dropped slightly.
"What do you mean? You told her to bring me breakfast?"
"I suggested bringing you homemade treats would be cute. And I have your back because I just happened to throw out muffin because I know my boy likes muffins."
"I'm only eating this because it's homemade, and I don't want to waste it," I muttered, breaking off a piece with my fingers. "Not because you asked her to bring me a muffin."
"Just appreciate all I do for you."
"What Helga is doing for me," I clarified, turning the muffin in my hand. She had made me muffins. Taken time to cook me a muffin.
"Yes, what Helga is doing because of me, her advice giver. Any requests?" He asked, closing his locker as we headed to first period.
"I can't do that," I countered, sliding into my seat and continued to pick at my impromptu breakfast. It was actually really good.
"Are you sure? I've scored you a lot of little things to help get you two smoothed out. Read all about your excursions. I've been gearing up for something big soon."
I perked up, both intrigued as well a little off-put. "Something big?"
"It's a surprise, lover boy."
"Don't call me that," I retorted, rolling my eyes.
"Don't you want to be now? You're basically her boyfriend. Sharing coffee at flea markets, your laugh just as warm and sweet."
I sputtered, choking on my muffin.
Monday – rehearsal
"I am so sorry, Mr. Simmons. I just didn't realize how close the show actually was and how little time there actually was – I promise I'll get the set finished this weekend so we don't have to pretend around it. I am so sorry! I should have -!"
"Arnold! Arnold, it's okay," Mr. Simmons said, his voice gentle as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "I know this is new to you, and I trust you to take care of things in time. I'm sorry I didn't push you harder about it, as it seems that would have been more helpful to you. But you have time."
"I know, I just didn't mean to fall so behind. If you let me stay late, I'll finish it!"
"Don't stress, Arnold, it's fine. You've got the skeleton and the doors up. Focus on the bake-sale the crew decided on – maybe Friday. I'll get with the principal about you guys being allowed to stay in on Friday, how about that? The stage crew can help and it'll get done in no time."
I nodded, still feeling bad I'd gotten behind. I went and found my seat, plopping down heavily. Helga was already seated on the lip of the stage, legs dangling as she watched everyone meander in. I slid out my clipboard, slowly checking off names as I scanned the seats.
Helga paused to check the time on her phone, pushing herself up and cupping her hands around her mouth as she called out "It's officially 3:40, so shut it down!"
Everyone knew to obediently zip their lips by this point, so most of the volume faded out quickly. "Updates are going to be quick today. Most of the props are in, so that's one less issue. Second, bake-sale on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday! See your stage manager to sign up for lunch time slots." She gestured to me, and I gave a lazy wave. "You've got today and tomorrow to figure out what to bring. Anything else?" She looked at me, and I pushed myself up.
"Just one. Stage Crew, Friday is tentatively going to be a late day to finish finalizing set."
There was a small burst of woops for the cast, with Rhonda's distinctive "Finally" ringing out. I felt a pang of guilt. "I'm only really asking stage crew, but if anyone else wants to stay and help for that, I would be 100% on board with that. So see me about sale and Friday stuff." I plopped back down as Helga called everyone one up for places for Act 2, taking a seat behind me.
"Thanks for the breakfast," I said quietly as I glued my eyes to stage, listening as everyone collected props and took their places.
"No big. Just…testing out bake sale ideas, you know."
"Still," I turned, grinning. "It was really good, by the way. Where'd you get the idea for muffins?" I had not intended to actually ask it out loud, but the moment I did, her cheeks tinted as she gave a forced laugh. "Oh, you know, just seemed like a good idea. Who doesn't like muffins?"
"Fair enough."
She stuck her tongue out at me before calling out,"Alright, let's get this show on the road."
I settled back, pulling the sketchbook from my bag and making small additions the earlier sketches I had made. Hopefully Friday would prove to be a successful endeavor and I'd have this all done. However, part of me felt like it really wanted to stretch the play out as long as it could go. I looked over at Helga, watching as she eagerly supervised our classmates perform.
Definitely not a long enough time for all I need to do.
