CHAPTER 49
"Okay, where is he?" Maria demanded as she sat down at the cafeteria table where the Evans siblings, Alex and Liz were sitting. "He wasn't in English this morning, and I haven't felt him around. So is he cutting school or what?"
Max and Isabel exchanged a wary glance, which did not get past Maria. "Come on, guys. You know I have to rely on you for news about Michael these days, since he's not willing to let me be a part of his life. I have to live vicariously through the rest of you. So indulge me. What's he up to?"
"I'd say a little over six feet," quipped Alex. Isabel gave one of her patented eye rolls and Liz chuckled. Maria, however, didn't give in.
"Come on. Where is he?" she demanded.
"He's taking a little break, Maria," Max answered, his tone serious.
"A break? From what? School? Roswell? His Czechoslovakian status? What?"
"All of that, actually. He needed to get away for a while."
Maria frowned. "Is he okay?"
"We hope so," Isabel put in. "But you know Michael. Sometimes he can be pretty hard to read."
Maria nodded, understanding that completely. "So you know where he is?"
"Yes," she answered. "Max and I took him there." Isabel waited for Maria to demand Michael's location, bracing herself to refuse to tell. Michael was adamant about needing to be alone. It had only been through constant badgering on the trip to the pod cave that he'd allowed her to force her cell phone on him so he could call when he was ready to come back to civilization. He'd finally accepted it, more to shut her up than anything else. She suspected it would remain turned off until he was ready to return.
Maria surprised her, though. All she said was "Okay then." At least until she caught Isabel's startled look; then she explained, "I know he's been avoiding me, and I'm not going to force myself on him when he's trying to deal with other things. You two know where he is, and I trust you with him." A thought occurred to her and a speculative look crossed her face. "Besides, if I really wanted to know, I could probably track him down with my Michael-radar anyway. It might take me a while, but I'll bet I could do it."
She gave Isabel a rueful smile. "Don't worry, I'm not going to. He wants to be alone right now. For once, he should get what he wants." With a sigh, she added, "I won't tell you I don't hate it, though."
Liz reached across the table and squeezed her hand as Max spoke slowly. "I don't know that it's what he really wants, Maria," he said, "but I think it's what he needs. Just give him some time, okay?"
She nodded, and then deliberately changed the subject. "So, who wants to come watch me take Pamela Harris down a couple of pegs this afternoon?" she asked cheerfully. "I've been gearing up for it all weekend. It should be quite a show."
"Can't turn down the possibility of a good cat fight," Alex joked. "I'd take bets, but for some strange reason, no one wants to wager against Hurricane DeLuca here."
With a glare of mock reproof, Maria shot back, "Gee, Alex, I sure appreciate your confidence in me. I think." She raised an eyebrow. "I could leave Pamela to you, if you'd rather."
Alex grinned. "What? And miss out on the bout of the century? No way. I'll just keep my ringside seat, thanks."
"What exactly are you planning to do, Maria?" Liz asked.
Maria pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, I do happen to have this giant Acme anvil that I never got to use on a certain ornery Czechoslovakian," she mused, then laughed. "Just kidding. Actually, I'm just going to talk to her. Set her straight on a few things, ask a few questions...see if we can behave reasonably for once."
Isabel smiled and drew a few familiar looking pieces of notebook paper from her purse. "You might want these, to back you up," she said, handing over the sketch and notes. "Michael gave them back. He thought they might be helpful."
So he hadn't forgotten her completely. A feeling of happiness warmed Maria, but she didn't comment on it. She merely accepted the papers, saying with a grin, "They might. And if they don't work, I can always go back to the anvil, can't I?"
Anvil noticeably absent, Maria rushed down the hall towards the girls' dressing room. Her intention was to get in costume and on stage quickly, avoiding the temptation to confront Pamela before rehearsal began. She was determined not to let the witch spoil the rehearsal for her; there would be plenty of time to deal with her afterwards. Setting down her bookbag, she slipped out of her shoes and padded over to the costume rack for the formfitting midnight blue dress that she wore at the beginning of the show.
Except it wasn't there.
With a frown, she sorted through the garments on the rack. Part of her wasn't at all surprised to find that none of her costumes were there. She could buy one being missing; maybe Megan had taken it to fix a hem or something. But all of them? She knew in her gut that there was a reason for this, and the reason's name was Pamela Harris.
Okay. This was the final straw. It was bad enough for the spiteful witch to single-handedly harass her, but the costumes weren't even her property. Some came from the school's costume closet, and one was rented. Pam Harris was going to be sorry for this. But first, Maria had to find the costumes, before Pamela and her snotty entourage arrived at the dressing room.
Gritting her teeth, she searched through the small room, with no luck. Her mind churned. She knew she'd hung them up on the rack after Friday's rehearsal. And Pamela was gone all weekend, so she couldn't have absconded with them then, especially with no Czechoslovakian superpowers to enable her to undo the locks on the school doors. So it had to have been today, sometime during class or at lunch.
Trying to decide where to look next, Maria moved slowly into the hallway. Pamela wouldn't have thrown the costumes away; it was too likely someone would see them in the trash and think it was odd. Too easy to be found out that way. No, they had to be somewhere where no one would find them at all, or where they wouldn't be given a second thought if they were seen. Maria frowned again.
"What's wrong?" came a voice from behind, startling her. She turned to see Isabel Evans standing, looking at her curiously. The alien must be on her way out to the parking lot, Maria thought irrelevantly. Quickly she explained the missing costumes, adding, "I've got to find them. Fast. Rehearsal will start soon, and I need to be there, in costume, when it does. I will not let Pamela Harris get the best of me."
"I'll help you look," Isabel immediately offered. "Any ideas where?"
"Someplace where no one would notice them if they saw them," Maria said, picking back up where her thoughts had left off. "Somewhere nearby. She wouldn't have been able to go very far without being seen, otherwise."
"The best place to hide clothes is with other clothes. You know, hide them in plain sight," Isabel ventured.
"Like in the costume storage room," said Maria as the idea struck her. "There's a ton of stuff in there. What are a few more costumes stuck in the middle?"
Together, they headed backstage to the small room, jam-packed with garments of every color and description. "I'm surprised Megan was able to find anything in here," Maria commented. "This place is a mess."
"What exactly are we looking for?" Isabel asked. Maria described the costumes, and together they started going through the racks. Maria had hastily scrambled through three racks' worth of garments and was trying to push her way past a fourth rack next to the wall to see if anything was jammed in behind it when Isabel spoke.
"Does the negligee have marabou trim on it?"
Poking her head out from behind a rack of assorted coats and dresses, Maria looked over at Isabel. The alien had crossed back to the doorway and was standing, peering behind the open door. "Because if so, I think I found them."
Maria quickly disentangled herself from a 1980's-style prom dress that had evidently been recycled as a period ball gown and joined Isabel. Her heart sank as she took in the pile of clothing that was jammed behind the door. Slowly she bent down and sorted through it; it was all there, down to the leopard-print high heels she wore in the beginning of Act II. The shoes had fared okay, but the dresses and negligee were wadded up into a ball, heavily creased. Even the yellow rain slicker looked wrinkled--a real feat, since it was made of vinyl.
"Fantastic," she muttered, holding up one of the abused dresses. "Pamela has finally managed to make me look bad."
"Not if we don't let her," Isabel said firmly. "Which one do you wear first?" Maria pointed out the blue dress. Shutting the door, Isabel ordered, "Put it on so we can see how bad it is. There's not a lot of time before rehearsal, right?" Maria looked at her for a moment, taking in the glint of challenge in her eyes, then quickly scrambled out of her clothes and into the dress. After pulling up the zipper, Isabel told her to hold still, and slowly ran her hand over the worst of the wrinkles. In moments, the front of the dress looked pristine.
"Boy, who needs an iron with you around?" Maria joked, gazing down at herself. "Okay, I am now officially jealous of you and your powers."
"Would you really want everything that comes with them?" Isabel asked in a dry tone, working on the back of the dress. "Because I can't tell you how many times I've wished I were a normal human. I wouldn't give up Max or Michael for anything, but sometimes I can't help imagining what my life would be like if things were different."
"Yeah. I know what you mean," Maria said softly. "The grass is always greener on the other person's planet, right?"
Isabel smiled. "Something like that. Now, which shoes go with this?" Maria grabbed them and pulled them on. "You go ahead--you don't have much time. I'll get the rest of these fixed up and sneak them back into the dressing room once Pamela is on stage," Isabel offered.
"Thanks!" Maria cried, turning around and giving the startled alien a quick hug. "You're a great friend, Isabel." She did a little happy dance. "Oh, this is just going to kill her," Maria breathed. "I can't wait to see her face when I walk in wearing this!"
Grinning at her antics, Isabel pushed her towards the door. "Go on, get out there already."
Maria headed across the backstage area, intent on getting to the stage before Pamela saw the direction she was coming from. Heading around the flats that served as the flower shop walls, now fixed firmly in place, she found the rest of the cast standing on the stage. The three doo-wop girls were pulled aside in their own little group, their backs to her. They didn't notice her approaching.
"It's really irresponsible of her," she heard Pamela say over the sounds of the combo warming up. "Rehearsal is supposed to start in a few minutes, and no one's seen her. By the time she gets ready, we'll be running late, and Ms. Bedinger absolutely hates that. Poor Maria," she said in a falsely sympathetic tone. "She is really going to be in for it. Well, that's what you get when you cast someone totally inexperienced. If I had the lead--"
Maria interrupted her. "But you don't, do you?" she said calmly. Pamela turned to look at her. Maria did not miss the shock in Pamela's eyes as the girl took in Maria's Czechoslovakian-pressed dress, nor the way her mouth fell open. A sense of glee filled Maria, and she decided to hell with waiting. "But if you have a problem with that, you can always leave another note in my locker. That's about your speed, isn't it?"
Pamela took two steps towards her and spoke angrily, not bothering to deny it. "Took you long enough to figure it out. I always knew you were stupid."
Shaking her head, Maria let out a laugh. "See, that's where you're wrong. Now, leaving me hate mail because your ex-boyfriend is seeing a completely different person, that's dumb. It completely boggles the mind."
Pamela looked at her in disbelief. "A different person? Your stupid lies get lamer every time you tell one, DeLuca. I saw you and Mark together. You can't get out of that."
By now, the two had the attention of not only the entire cast, but also the combo and a few assorted stagehands.
"Well, obviously you're either on hallucinogens, or you need to get yourself a pair of very thick glasses, 'cause you sure didn't see me," Maria retorted. "You don't have to believe me, although I've only told you the truth. But maybe you'll believe your friend here," she continued, reaching out and pulling Melanie into the 'conversation'. "Don't you have something to tell her?" she pointedly asked the other blonde.
Melanie met her eyes, then nodded resignedly and turned towards Pamela. "It wasn't Maria," she stated baldly. "Mark was dating me."
The cast and crew turned interested eyes towards the tall brunette, avid to see her reaction. It didn't disappoint.
"You what?" she screeched. "You're the one who told me it was her!"
"Gee, why would that be? Do you think she was trying to cover up something?" Maria asked no one in particular.
"You heard me," Melanie returned, paying no heed to Maria. "But frankly, you can have him. He's a jerk." Surprised, Maria shot a glance over at Mark, who didn't look very pleased at this statement. She decided it was time to take control of the situation again, and stepped between Pamela and Melanie, who had started yelling at each other. Well, Pamela was yelling and Melanie was answering back.
"So what exactly was the purpose of the little party favors you left me, Pamela?" Maria demanded. "To get me to stop seeing a guy I never even dated in the first place? Really smart there. To get me to quit the play? Just to be vindictive? What? And why the heck did you want me to go to the park that Friday, anyway? What was I supposed to do, play in the sandbox?"
"You were supposed to think Mark stood you up!" Pamela snapped. "So you'd get angry with him. And if you caught a cold and couldn't sing, so much the better."
"Very, very lame. You know, the next time you go to the trouble of all these elaborate--but totally ineffective--schemes, you might want to verify your facts first! Why couldn't you just ask me if I was seeing Mark? For god's sake, you are totally crazed!"
"Like I could believe anything you said," Pamela shot back.
"Gee, I don't know, Pam, I'm not the one who's been lying to you, now am I?" Maria mocked, staring up at her. "Maybe you should talk to your so-called best friend and ex-boyfriend about that. And while we're having this little talk," she continued, warming up now, "maybe you'd like to explain your cousin Barry, who just happens to work for the company that was supposed to be supplying the plant puppets. Did they really double book, or is there something else you should be admitting?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark, who'd been watching in angry silence, stiffen. "What did you do, Pamela?" he demanded, turning to the brunette.
Pamela either didn't notice how furious he was, or was herself too pissed off to care, because she didn't pay any attention to him, remaining focused on Maria. "Why do you even care? We've got plants, haven't we? The show is going on!" she yelled.
"I care because my friend ended up having to put in hours and hours of time he didn't have to make sure we could do this show!"
"Oh yes, your supposed boyfriend, that grungy loser Michael Guerin," Pamela sneered.
"Yes, my very good friend Michael Guerin, who, along with my other friends, helped figure you out, by the way!" Maria took one deadly step towards the senior, and opened her mouth to slay. "And speaking of my friends," she continued cooly, "You'd better hope that nothing ever happens to me, not so much as a broken fingernail. Because those friends of mine have got the written proof that you threatened me. And they won't hesitate to take you down."
Ms. Bedinger, who entered the auditorium through a side door, forestalled Pamela's furious reaction. "Good, you're all ready," the teacher said. "Everyone in places for the top of the show, please. We've got a lot of work to do this afternoon."
Maria didn't move, glaring coldly up at Pamela. It was easy not to back down; she just pretended she was Michael's stone wall and refused to budge. Pamela, with no stubborn alien to emulate, was only able to stare back for a few moments before she tore her eyes away and headed off stage. Maria allowed a triumphant grin to cover her face and winked down at Alex in the orchestra pit as she walked off to the wings, ready to make her Act I entrance.
The rehearsal went fairly smoothly; that is, if you ignored the angry vibes shooting off Pamela Harris at Maria, at Melanie, at Mark...well, at just about everyone. It was not a pretty sight. Maria did a fairly good job of ignoring her, though, concentrating instead on becoming Audrey, and things moved on like they should.
At least until the end of the second scene in Act II, when barely held tempers started to fray. It all began in the middle of 'The Meek Shall Inherit' as Debbie, Pamela and Melanie rushed back on stage after a fiendishly fast costume change into long glamour gowns and beehive-styled wigs. Melanie, not completely fastened into her high-heeled sandal, tripped and skidded forward into Pamela, sending her staggering and knocking her wig forward to cover her face. She jerked it back out of her eyes and glared at Melanie, although she continued to sing, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. The laughter from Dennis Cooper, who'd headed out into the house to watch the rest of the play after his character was killed off, didn't help either. As the song ended, Pamela shoved Melanie out of her way and stalked off stage.
Shortly afterwards, the last scene began, and Maria stood in the wings, pulling on the yellow rain slicker. She had to push past a squabbling Pamela and Melanie to get to the stage, but went doggedly on, ignoring the whispered insults flying back and forth between the two girls. She concentrated on her scene with Mark, trying not to get thrown by the glares he kept sending into the wings as the offstage fight got noticeably louder. For the first time, he actually stumbled over a few lines, and Maria could see his shoulders stiffening with tension. It was with a great sense of relief that she finally got to exit. With Megan's help, she made a fast change into the nightgown, negligee and mules for her final scene as Mark said a few more lines to the plant and stalked off, obviously not at all pleased.
Wafting her way back on stage, Maria began to sing, and was soon caught up in her scene with the plant. Ignoring the offstage argument, which had escalated to include Mark as well as the two girls, she allowed herself to be lured towards the puppet, and then pretended to fight its branches as it pulled her into its open maw and chomped down. "Help!" she cried out.
No help came.
She pretended to struggle with the plant a little more, and called out again. "Help!"
No Seymour rushed in to save her from the deadly plant. Where was Mark? She struggled with the plant for a few more moments, but there was only so much she could do. She tried to decide whether or not to give up and climb all the way into the plant, allowing her character to die and skipping the tender scene with Mark and the 'Somewhere That's Green' reprise. After a moment of reflection--and being a modern sort of woman--she decided to hell with Mark. If Seymour wasn't going to come to her rescue, she'd save herself. Lifting up the top lip of the plant puppet, she pulled herself free and stood up. Still no Mark on stage.
A very unamused Ms. Bedinger called from out in the house. "Hold it right there, Maria. Mark? Where are you? You've missed an entrance."
"What's going on? Why are we stopping?" Kyle hissed from somewhere inside the giant plant.
Leaning over the puppet, Maria responded, "Mark's too busy fighting with Pamela and Melanie to make his entrance." From the wings, there was the sound of an open palm hitting skin, and she shook her head. "Somehow I don't think we're going to be finishing this scene for a while."
The plant began to wiggle and contort, and Maria watched in some amusement as Kyle climbed out the back. "Well, I'm not staying in the plant then. It's too cramped. Couldn't Guerin build it a little bigger?" he complained, moving to stand next to her.
"Why? A little claustrophobic, are we?" Maria teased him.
Before he had a chance to answer, there was a blur of motion off in the wings. Maria stepped to the side just fast enough to miss being knocked over by Pamela and Melanie, who were so engrossed in their shoving match that they didn't notice they were now on stage.
After that, things happened so quickly that Maria was never quite sure how it all played out.
Kyle, attempting to get between the two girls to stop them, ducked as Pamela's fist shot out. Her arm swung over his head and cold-cocked her former best friend, who went staggering backwards. Mark, coming back on stage with a red mark on his cheek where he'd been slapped, was just in time to be run into by Melanie. Knocked off his balance, he barely avoided falling off the edge of the stage into the orchestra pit.
By this time, Kyle was holding Pamela by the shoulders, trying to get her to calm down. Debbie raced on stage and threw the contents of a very full water bottle at the hysterical senior, giving Pamela and Kyle both a faceful of water. With a shriek, Pamela pulled out of Kyle's hold and barged towards Debbie, who bolted.
Unfortunately, she got a little too close to Mark, who was still teetering on the edge of the stage, and he fell into the orchestra pit, taking her with him, both narrowly missing the drum set on the way down.
Kyle, who'd started after Pamela, slipped in the puddle of water that Debbie had inadvertently created and landed hard on his knees. Reaching out, he did manage to grab Pamela and swing her around, but she got her foot caught in the hem of her gown and stumbled. Maria watched with wide eyes as Pamela fell, ever so gracefully in slow motion, into the waiting mouth of the plant puppet. Without the support of a puppeteer inside, the plant trembled, and the top lid jiggled for a few brief seconds before plunging down to trap the senior beneath it.
There was silence in the auditorium. Slowly, Maria looked around and realized she was the only one on stage still standing.
A moment later, a cacophony of raised voices filled the auditorium. As Ms. Bedinger tried to regain order, Maria helped Kyle to his feet and then strolled over to the plant. She idly noted the excellence of Michael's handiwork as she lifted the top lip. Pamela was lying in an awkward, but unhurt, heap inside. Trying to bite back the laughter that threatened to erupt, Maria studied her.
"You know, Pam? You should try gardening. Vegetation looks really good on you." And with that, she let the plant close gently down once more.
"...I mean, I thought Alex was absolutely going to lose it!" Maria chuckled, thinking back to the rehearsal the previous afternoon. "It was like watching the Three Stooges or something."
Alex looked around the cafeteria table at the others before turning back to Maria. "What would that make you? Shemp?" he jokes, his eyes dancing. Then, as if to ward her off her mock indignation, he grabbed her hand and lifted it high into the air. "Ladies and gentleman," he announced. "The winnah and still champeen, Maria DeLuca!" And Maria's face shone rosy from happy embarrassment as her four friends burst into a spontaneous round of applause.
TBC...