A/N: The song in the previous chapter, or part of it, was "Make Me Smile" by Chicago.

CHAPTER 12: Abby

Dear Gram Elsie and Grandpa Morris,

Hi! What's new with you? We've been doing all right. SMS is doing Carnival this year. You know, the musical based on the movie Lili. Remember when we watched that at your house last Chanukah, and all our cousins started singing along with that song? I'm just glad I'm not the only one who can't sing worth a crap. Anna's in the orchestra, and even though I'm probably the worst singer in the world, I'm playing a wardrobe lady.

Oh, speaking of Anna, she's doing just fine with her back brace. In fact, she had a doctor's appointment last week, and the doctor says that her spine's well on its way to alignment. At this rate, she'll be out of it by the time we start our sophomore year of high school. Say a prayer for her, okay?

We got our first glimpse of the set today, and it was fantastic. The puppet booth looked so neat that I couldn't resist doing my Bob Ross impression. I still can't believe Claudia went along with it. Today's rehearsal is going to be great...

The following Monday after school, the four of us (Kristy, Anna, Stacey, and I) were heading toward the auditorium. "You know, it's so ironic that I got a part in this show, considering the fact that I can't carry a tune in a bucket," I commented as I spit my gum in a nearby trash can.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I couldn't catch a basketball even if you put Krazy-Glue on it," Anna said.

I giggled. "Yeah, that does kind of make me feel better. Thanks, Sis."

"No problem."

"Oh, Claud says they finished painting the set over the weekend," Kristy said as we stopped at the soda machine.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yup," Kristy answered, opening her fanny pack and digging a couple of quarters out of her change purse, then she held out her hand. I knew what that meant: if we were thirsty, too, we had to pay up. (Note to self: if you ever go out to lunch with Kristy, don't expect her to pick up the check.)

While we forked over the money, Stacey said, "I wonder what it looks like."

"Well, we'll soon find out," Kristy said as she put our quarters in the machine. She always seems to know what our favorite drinks are: V8 for Stacey (BLECCH! That, and I'm also allergic to tomatoes), Pepsi for Anna, Sprite for me, and Diet Dr. Pepper for herself. After we were done at the soda machine, we headed to the auditorium.

The older kids were already there, of course. While Anna went to tune up her violin, I saw Claud inspecting one of the set pieces.

"Hi, Claud," I said as we came over to her.

"Hey," she said. "Well, what do you think?"

"This looks great!" I exclaimed.

"Thanks," Claud smiled. "Ashley and I did the puppet booth over there."

"Wow!" Kristy exclaimed. Wow, indeed! The puppet booth was painted in all these different shades of red, yellow, blue, and green. The curtain, which was navy blue, had white and silver lightning bolts painted on it. It was really something.

In fact, I liked it so much, I ran my hand through my hair to make it look like an Afro, and said in a very soft voice, "Remember, this is your world. There are no mistakes in your world. And yes, this also goes for set-building. By the way, Claud, I think this little corner right here could use a little Van Dyke brown or Alizarin crimson, or whatever the hell color he says he uses."

"How about a happy little tree over by the fortune-telling booth?" Claud suggested, also in a very soft voice.

"Oh, absolutely," I agreed. "And right here by Marco's trailer would be a great spot to paint a picture of a guy getting the crap knocked out of him by Smokey the Bear for lighting a cigar."

We all got a good laugh, but Kristy laughed so hard that she spit her soda all over the stage. At least she had the presence of mind to turn her head away from the puppet booth.

"Want to see the puppets?" Claud asked as soon as we'd calmed down. "Mrs. Baehr helped us make them, and it took all week, too! Mr. Mackey made the two little stick puppets."

She held up the stick puppets. Mother Goose had a purple bonnet and scarf, and Little Jack Horner had a purple suit and matching shoes.

Next, she opened the curtain. The puppets were lying on the shelf, and they looked really nice. Claudia picked them up and showed them to us. Carrot Top had a white face, red nose, and a mess of bright orange curls, and was wearing a blue dress with three white cotton balls sewn down the front, and looked like Larry from The Three Stooges. Horrible Henry was your typical gray walrus, and Renardo was your typical fox, but he had a black suit, top hat, and cape, and a melodrama villain's moustache. Marguerite had yellow hair made from yarn—in ringlets, I might add—a red evening gown, and a pink boa. She basically looked the same way that Cokie Mason probably would in about 25 years. And isn't it a coincidence that Cokie's real name is Marguerite?

"Wow!" I said. "Claud, these look fantastic! I especially like how you made Carrot Top look like Larry! You really outdid yourself this time!"

"Thanks," Claud grinned. By now, everyone else was arriving, and another day of rehearsal was soon underway.

You know something? I think Mr. Cheney's lecture really had quite an effect on everybody, because throughout the entire day, things went more smoothly than usual. After what happened that one day when three of the guys were screwing around backstage, which led to Mr. Cheney's lecture, it was a nice change of pace, if you ask me.

Today, we were rehearsing "Magic, Magic", which meant that the curtain was closed so we could get ready for the "Carnival Ballet". Barbara Hirsch and I were standing about a foot away from the Zuwicki twins, and I had a bunch of scarves and veils around my shoulders, but I didn't mind. I was just glad that we hadn't had any accidents yet. "So far, so good," I whispered to Miranda Shillaber.

She nodded. "And the best part is, Dawn hasn't started giggling once."

She was, of course, referring to the part in the song where Marco yanks off Rosalie's underwear. According to Mary Anne, when they were rehearsing that song with Mr. Drubek, Dawn was having a giggle-attack similar to that of our baby-sitting charges, and couldn't say her line. Thankfully, she was able to pull herself together and get through the song.

Oh, speaking of that particular song, I'm happy to say that it went off without a hitch, especially the part where Dawn accidentally ruins the trick, and Charlie comes out, shouting, "YOU! YOU'RE FIRED! GET OUT OF MY CARNIVAL, DO YOU HEAR!" He was so loud that if I was halfway across campus, I'd bet anything that I could still hear him. When I caught a glimpse of Natalie as I made my way offstage, I noticed that her eyes were as big as an owl's. I guessed she'd never heard him yell like that before. I was pretty surprised myself.

The next song they did was "Kommen", and I could hear the Bluebird Girls very well. I was also enjoying the song, when out of nowhere, I heard a sound that could only be two people crashing into each other, as well as the music stopping. I knew I should've stayed put, but my instincts told me to see what had happened. So, risking a reprimand from Mr. Cheney, I ran to the curtain and poked my head out between the two sides.

What I saw was this: Bebe Everett and Pamela Harding were sprawled out on the stage, just laughing hysterically and rubbing their foreheads; Kristy was standing between them, and I could tell that she was trying to decide whether to get angry or laugh with them; and Rosie Wilder and Kerry Bruno were both looking at me as if to say, "Don't ask." Finally, Kristy couldn't keep it in any longer, and she just collapsed into a fit of laughter. It took a good five minutes for them to stop laughing so they could finish the song.

This wasn't what any of us were expecting to happen, but at least no one got hurt, upset, or ran offstage in tears, so that was a good sign.

Well, in the famous words of Colin Quinn, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. If I can find a way to get some comp tickets, I'll mail you a couple. Also, what I'd really like to do is invite the whole family. I talked to Mom about it, and she said she'd see what she could do. But I really, REALLY want you to come. If you can't, I'll make sure to send you a program and a copy of the video.

On a more personal note, I really wish Dad was alive, because I think he'd really enjoy this. But I know he's up in heaven, watching over Mom, Anna, and me, and I guarantee you, he's damn proud of us.

Well, I'm getting ready for a baby-sitting job at the Hobarts', so I should go now. Say hi to everyone for us, okay?

Shalom,

Abby