CHAPTER 13: Charlie

Hey, baby-sitters! Your loyal chauffeur here. In case you're wondering, I was told that Jessi needs some notes for her journal about Carnival, so I figured, if I'm nice enough to give Kristy and Abby a ride to their meetings, then why not contribute here also?

I don't know about the rest of you, but I really wish I could forget today's rehearsal. Remember what Kristy said about the "calm before the storm"? Well, today was a lot of things, but calm definitely wasn't one of them. By the way, if I ever audition for another show, I'd like to be notified in advance of the possibility of using a live animal—not just because some people are allergic, but I thought for sure that someone was going to call Animal Control!

I was at my locker after school, getting ready to go to SMS, when I ran into Jack Hanson, one of my best friends. "Hey, Charlie, want to come over and play football?" he asked.

"Can't," I said, pulling on my SHS varsity jacket. "I have to go to SMS for a Carnival rehearsal."

He shook his head sympathetically. "Yeah, I know what a pain that can be," he said. "When I played the Ghost of Christmas Present in A Christmas Carol at the Community Center, I had to go to rehearsal, too. You know, I'm still thankful that your little stepsister and her friend didn't trip me when they were walking under my costume, and I made it all the way through without having a cerebral hemorrhage."

We laughed, then gave each other an arm-punch, which is how my sister hugs someone. I met Sam at the entrance, and we headed to SMS.

Now that I look back on today, I should've known that the fantastic rehearsal we'd had the day before we a fluke. It all started when I finally lost my muffler on the way out of the parking lot. I wasn't really that surprised, considering the condition of my car. Let's just say it's not called the Junk Bucket for nothing. Then there was the traffic jam we had to sit through, thanks to some idiot causing an accident near the intersection, and the radio playing, of all songs, "Anticipation" by Carly Simon.

"Hey, it could be worse, Charlie," Sam commented. "We could be listening to 'MmmBop'."

"Shut up," I grumbled. Just then, slowly but surely, the traffic started moving again, but that didn't do much to improve my mood.

I just knew that today's rehearsal was doomed.

When we arrived—with only two minutes to spare, surprisingly—the SMS kids were already there. Some were sitting and talking, some were doing homework, and some were going over their lines, especially Dawn. As the female lead, she had the most lines, and took her role very seriously. I'm told that during Peter Pan rehearsals, she tried to modernize the script, and thought the whole thing was sexist. I'm happy to say that she hasn't tried doing that with this play.

Sam went off to find Stacey, like he usually does, and I sat down to go over my lines. I thought I had a lot in common with B.F. Schlegl, mostly the fact that he's loud, bossy, and overbearing. As much as I hate to admit it, I can be the same way myself, being the oldest in my family.

A little while later, Mr. Cheney and Mr. Drubek arrived, and rehearsal got underway. Ever since Mr. Cheney's lecture, rehearsals have pretty much been running more smoothly, and for the first time ever, everyone was off-book! It was also the first time we'd be using a real dog. The dog belonged to Lisa and Seth Engle, Karen and Andrew's mother and stepfather, her name was Midgie, and she was a mutt.

Now, from what Karen and Andrew have told me, Midgie is a very sweet, friendly dog, but to say that being in a strange place and surrounded by all these people she'd never seen before was a little scary for her is an understatement. Any time anyone besides Karen or Nancy came near her, she'd bark at them nonstop. And I mean really loudly, like she's going to tear your arm off and beat you over the head with it. Even the little kids weren't immune to Midgie's fits.

The chain of unfortunate events started to unfold during "Direct From Vienna". While I was singing my part, I bent over forward to give Midgie her treat. Well, instead of taking it, she just went crazy, barking up a storm. Then she ran around in circles, tying a very caught off-guard Karen up in the leash. Before Karen could get her hand free, Midgie was off and running, knocking that poor girl to the floor. Now that I think about it, I wish I'd just stayed out of it, because when I went to help Karen untangle herself, Midgie got the brilliant idea to run over to Abby. I guess she didn't know Abby was allergic, but just the same, it sent her into a sneezing and wheezing fit. She pulled out her inhaler and took a quick puff. Meanwhile, Mr. Cheney tried to grab Midgie as she ran by him, but she wasn't stopping for anyone, not even the director. She even tried to bite him.

That was all Karen needed to see, and she knew she had to put a stop to it. "MIDGIE!" she shouted as she scrambled to her feet. She lives life at the top of her lungs, as Mom would say. "YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

That got the dog's attention, and she walked back to Karen with her tail between her legs.

Karen had gotten Midgie under control, but that didn't mean we weren't without further problems. Let's see: Shannon got a splinter in her right foot during the last part of "Direct From Vienna", which was easily fixed by Kristy; after "Very Nice Man", Jimmy Bouloukos got a little too—what's the word?—overzealous in his scene with Dawn, and she punched him in the stomach; Jackie Rodowsky's left shoe flew off during "Sword, Rose & Cape" and landed in Ms. Halliday's lap; Miranda Shillaber couldn't stop sneezing during the "Carnival Ballet"; David Michael kept dropping his harmonica during the Dr. Glass scene; Karen got into a shoving match backstage with Pamela Harding after Pamela called her a really filthy name, so Sam and I were the ones who separated them; Abby kept grumbling about Midgie (and in Yiddish, I might add); Jason was getting over a cold, so his Marguerite voice made him cough up a storm; and Mal, God bless her, just kept trying to keep everyone's spirits up. If I were her, I wouldn't have bothered, because nobody was feeling any better. The only good thing about today was that Karen had the presence of mind to take Midgie outside whenever nature called, because I'm pretty sure the last thing Mr. Cheney would've wanted was a lot of dog piss or crap to clean up. And yes, he also told Jimmy to tone it down.

At any rate, for the rest of rehearsal, Mr. Cheney looked like he was going to have a nervous breakdown.