The Knife Thrower

by MySoapBox

They divided the table cloths among them and got to work. Ten minutes later Chuck finished and walked over to Becky who still had one table to go.

"Beat ya again."

Becky didn't look at him as she smoothed the wrinkles from the table top. "Not everything's a race."

Chuck jumped up and sat on the table she had just finished covering. "You're just being a sore loser."

"Get off. You're messing it up," Becky complained shoving him from the table. Chuck made a big scene about falling to the floor. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to do a good job. Here, help me with this one," she said, handing him her last tablecloth, "and then we can go fix yours."

"Fix mine? What?"

Becky rolled her eyes and looked across the room to the tables Chuck had just covered. Chuck followed her eyes and saw for the first time how each tablecloth was a different length and one was totally askew. By comparison, Becky's tables were straight and perfect. He sighed. "Whatever."

xxOOxx

Chuck had Becky replace all the batteries in the microphone body packs while he got out the sound board and plugged everything in. He held his breath when he flipped it on and was relieved when he heard the soft low hum come from the speakers. "Good, now we just need to set the volume for each mic and we're done."

Becky put the last body mic down in the box. "Great."

"Great," Chuck echoed and he looked at her expectantly.

She looked back. "What?"

"It's ether got to be you or me, and since you don't know how to use the board, it's got to be you."

"What's got to be me?"

Chuck picked up the box of mics and held them out to Becky. "It's got to be you who goes down on the stage and talks into these mics so I can set the volumes."

Becky shook her head. "But I hate microphones."

"It will only take a minute."

"But you know I get stage fright."

Chuck pushed the box into her hands. "That's in front of people. I'm not people; I'm just Chuck, your friend."

Becky smiled at that. "Friends, hu?"

"Friends," Chuck confirmed. "And friends help other friends by testing microphones for them."

"They do, do they?"

"Yes, they do."

Becky lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "Okay."

"Start with number one," Chuck yelled from the booth as Becky got to center stage. She put the microphone box down and her feet and sifted through it until she pulled out a body pack with attached lapel microphone. She held the little microphone in one hand as she clicked the switch of the pack. She put it up her lips, "Hello?"

Her voice crackled and boomed over the speakers. She cringed and held the offending thing away from her face.

"Sorry about that." Chuck quickly pulled down the sliders. "Try it now."

She held it father from her face this time. "Hello? Hello?"

The volume was better but Chuck could still hear crackling in the front right speaker. "Keep talking," he said, "I've got to fix something."

"What should I say?"

"Anything." Chuck started to wiggle all the connections. "Sing something."

Becky pulled her free arm to her waist. "There is no way I'm going to sing. Not going to happen."

"Ah come on. I'm sure you have a great voice," Chuck encouraged.

"I'll leave this stage—"

"Okay, okay. Don't sing then. Just tell me something. Anything. Where are you from? Where did you grow up?"

"I think I might rather sing."

"Okay, then how about your favorite memory, your favorite food, anything."

"um," Becky bit her lip, "okay, got one. Once my dad took me to this little junky restaurant in Philly. They made these really greasy sandwiches out of stake and onions and Cheese Whiz, you know that cheese stuff from a jar?..."

As she spoke Chuck moved the sliders until her voice balanced well in the space.

"…and you wouldn't think that bright orange cheese would taste good on a sandwich like that, but..." She stopped talking and squinted up to the booth. "Chuck?

"You're doing great. Pick up the second mic and tell me if you like onions or peppers on your steak sandwich."

They went through all six microphones and by the last one Becky was talking about flying kites on the beach in Oregon, and Chuck just let her go a minute longer than he needed her to just because he loved to hear her talk. When she finished her story he said, "Okay, we're almost done; just one more thing."

Becky put the last microphone down into the box. "What? I thought that one was the last one."

All the lights clicked off in the theater and Becky froze in place. "Chuck? Was that the breaker again? Chuck?"

"Don't worry. Just a second. I saw this in a movie once." And then, with a flip of a switch, a single light came on and the mirror ball erupted, filling the entire stage with circling colored lights. He pushed play on a tape player and a tune from Blues Traveler filled the small theater. As Chuck headed down the aisle to join Becky on stage he saw her laughing and twirling with the disco ball and he knew that to have made Becky Franco smile and laugh was an amazing thing.

He reached her at the stage and jumped up to join her.

"What's all this Chuck? Are you trying to impress me with your nerdiness?"

"Geekiness," He corrected, "I don't know. Is it working?"

Becky just bit her lip. "Let's dance," she said. The song was upbeat and Becky started to move her arms and sway her hips.

"Um…" Chuck froze, wanting so much to join in, but knowing he was not in control of his arms and legs in any rhythmic way whatsoever.

Becky must have sensed his hesitation. "Come on. If I can talk into microphones for thirty minute you can do one dance."

"I'm dancing. See?" Chuck started to move, hoping he wasn't flailing too much. He must not have been because Becky didn't laugh at him. She did smile though and that smile affected him so much that after awhile he forgot to be self conscious about his lack of any dance skills whatsoever.

Too soon the song faded out and a slow song started in its place. Becky looked up at Chuck and Chuck froze. Did she want to keep dancing? Because Chuck wanted to. He really did. But the wires in his brain were about to short circuit so he stepped back. "Uh," he looked at his watch, "look at the time." Was his voice higher than usual? He hoped his voice wasn't higher than usual. "The silent auction is starting in a half hour. We better get out there."

"Yeah. Okay."

Was Becky disappointed? He couldn't tell if she was disappointed. Chuck jumped off the edge of the stage and offered his hand to help Becky down. She took his hand and slid off the stage. She didn't drop his hand as they headed up the aisle together, and Chuck was okay with that.

xxOOxx

Chuck grabbed the box of microphones and walked back stage where all the different acts were getting ready for the show. There were some dancers warming up in the hallway, a guitar was playing in the back room, and a juggler was spinning clubs by the back wall. Chuck checked the list of acts and started handing out the mics to the first acts on the list.

Just as he was about to head up to the lighting both he saw Becky in the stage wing, dressed in her white ruffled shirt, sorting through her magic props.

"Where's your dad?" Chuck asked. She dropped one of the foam balls she was holding and it rolled across the floor. She quickly grabbed it.

"He's helping with the auction. You know, since we are the last act, we have time."

Chuck nodded as he stood there watching her. Becky put the last of some foam balls in a box and then looked up at him expectantly. "Was there something else?"

"Um. No. Just break a leg. I mean, don't really break a leg. Or stab anyone. Definitely don't stab anyone, or break a leg. Both would be very, very bad. I just meant good luck. Good luck with the show. You'll do great," he finished weekly, and then to tried to recover by giving a thumbs up.

Becky smiled. "Thanks."

Chuck turned to walk away but then thought of something and turned back. "Do you want to come to my place after the show? Morgan will probably come over, we could get some ice-cream or something."

"I'd love to but we're headed out right after."

Chuck felt a squeeze in his chest. "You're leaving tonight?"

"Yeah, as soon as the show is over. We…uh… have to be to my aunts in Las Vegas by tomorrow so…"

"Oh." Chuck's face fell. "Okay. I got it."

Chuck turned to look at the back of the stage curtain, knowing that he had to go get the show started but hesitating all the same.

"Chuck? Are you ok?"

He turned back to her, "I just thought we'd have more time. That's all."

"I wish we did."

"So, this is it then."

"I'm so sorry," Becky said, stepping forward. "We were always just here for the show. I thought you knew."

"Yeah. I knew."

"And it's not like this is goodbye. I'll see you for a bit after. We still have to pack up and everything."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll see you after the show."

Becky turned her attention back to her props when Chuck thought of one last thing.

"Hey," she looked up at him. "Can I give you my number? Maybe you could call me sometime?"

Becky shook her head. "I don't know. We're on the road a lot. I'm not sure when I'd be able to call."

"How about when you're at your aunts in Las Vegas? Maybe we can talk then, just for a little while."

Becky hesitated but then said, "Sure. Okay."

Chuck put down the mic box and ripped a corner off of his talent show program, he scribbled his number with the words "Call me" and held it out to her.

She stepped up to him, much closer than was required, and took the paper. "I've really had a good time hanging out with you, Chuck." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"It was great meeting you, Becky Franco," Chuck said, and then he turned to head to the sound booth to start the show.

a/n One more chapter to go and an epilouge. Both coming soon. (not in five years - like soon. honest)