The Jumbee (6 page)

“It’s weird,” Esti whispered that evening, staring at the stage. “Danielle keeps overacting, and Greg seems totally bored. Am I right?”

“The thing is, I’ve seen them both do better. I guess Greg is taking his cues from Danielle.” Carmen shook her head. “She wasn’t so self-conscious last year. I honestly think you make her nervous.”

Esti sensed more than a grain of truth in Carmen’s words, but she knew Danielle had nothing to worry about. For a single sweet moment during auditions, Esti had almost believed it could happen, that a wisp of true talent still lived inside of her. If she had gotten Juliet, perhaps her passion for acting would have returned. Maybe Alan would have been interested enough to return as well.

She rubbed her temples. What good was an actress who couldn’t mold herself to any role required of her? Esti had stayed after practice almost every night to work on Lady Capulet, but she was completely unmotivated. She couldn’t blame her mysterious Romeo voice for not coming back. Alan Legard had loved cameos, effortlessly ruling the stage with a mere handful of lines.
A Legard by any other name,
Esti thought,
might as well give up.

Onstage, Romeo and the Montagues were talking about crashing Juliet’s party, and Esti took a determined breath. She had to concentrate on the play. Analyze the plot. Bring the characters to life. Find a reason to care about Lady Capulet.

“Romeo was a gang member,” she said to Carmen. “He needed to act bored and cynical around his friends, right?”

“Yeah, and Juliet was always on her period.”

“Shhhh!” Esti tried not to laugh.

“What would The Great Legard say?”

“The Great Legard.” A whiny voice repeated Carmen’s words. “Wherefore art thou, oh Great Legard?”

Carmen glared at the redheaded boy sauntering past them. “I sure hope one of the teachers catches Steve smoking his
ganja
,” she muttered as soon as he was gone. “All he’s done is cause trouble since he got here last semester, and he is
so
replaceable as Lord Capulet.”

Esti couldn’t answer. The Great Legard would be watching his own daughter in bewilderment right now, so easily replaceable as Lord Capulet’s wife.

“Chaz,” Mr. Niles called up to the stage, “roll your eyes while Greg is talking. Mercutio never takes his friends seriously, not even when Romeo predicts his own death. Okay, Romeo, go ahead.”

“My mind misgives some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,” Greg began, following his friends to Juliet’s fateful party.

“I get why Niles has to focus on key scenes,” Carmen said. “But I wish he’d give the whole cast more time. The Christmas show isn’t that far away and you’ve had—what—a total of thirty seconds on stage? And I’ve only been up there twice. Maybe Danielle will break her leg on opening night.”

“Carmen!”

“I mean that completely as a good luck thing, of course.”

Esti hid a grin behind her hands. “Romeo is such a shallow character, I’m not surprised by Greg’s apathy. Romeo
needs
a great Juliet in order to shine.”

“Romeo’s the hottest guy Shakespeare ever invented.” Carmen sounded indignant.

“Romeo’s a fickle poet who happens to look hot.” Esti thought about what her dad had always said. “He goes suicidal over every pretty girl he sees. The minute Juliet smiles at him, he forgets his last girl and does everything he can to get into Juliet’s pants.”

Carmen’s snort of laughter was so loud that Mr. Niles turned and raised his eyebrows. As he turned away again, she closed her eyes and placed a hand over her heart. “You’ve ruined Romeo for me,” she whispered in a broken voice. “I’ll never fall in love again.”

Esti smiled, swinging her leg back and forth under her chair. Her dad had delved tirelessly into Shakespeare and his characters. They would spend hours at the dinner table discussing the tragic childhood of Richard III, the witty strength of Rosalind, Shakespeare’s own scandalous love life. Esti had treasured those times with her dad, even at the very end. Especially at the end.

“Besides,” Carmen continued, “Juliet didn’t wear pants. She was a naive idiot.”

“Juliet starts out naive, but she’s smart.” Esti was still smiling, remembering the expression on her dad’s face as she worked this one out for herself when she was ten. “She sees through Romeo’s beautiful words and makes him do the right thing. Romeo is the idealist, but Juliet’s the brain, which is even more tragic by the end.”

“Speaking of tragic, remember that Romeo voice you told me about?”

Esti forced herself to keep smiling, even though she’d almost decided that Alan had to be a Freudian figment of her poor-little-Esti imagination.
Please don’t mention me to anyone
. Right. A girl losing it was just that—a girl losing it.

“No,” she heard herself say to Carmen. “What voice?”

“You know!” Carmen gave her an impatient look. “You told me you heard a sexy voice prompting you during your audition.”

“Oh.” Esti gave a dismissive wave. “I’d forgotten about it.”

“Well, rumors are flying about a real jumbee in the theater. Chaz overheard Mr. Niles talking to Headmaster Fleming about finding some furniture rearranged, then Chaz said that
he
actually heard strange noises from inside the walls. I dare you to stay with me after rehearsal tonight to try and hear the voice again.” Carmen raised her eyebrows with a devious grin. “We can pull a Hamlet and see if the ghost comes back. I still have some chocolate chip cookies we could use as a lure.”

Before Esti could respond, Steve’s head appeared between Esti’s and Carmen’s.

“Esti talks to sexy jumbees?” He grinned widely.

“Get away from us, Stoner,” Carmen snapped. “Sexy is a concept totally beyond you.”

Steve laughed, flopping back into the seat behind them. With a huff, Carmen stood up, motioning for Esti to follow.

Of course Steve would play up the gossip for all it was worth, Esti thought morosely. Now Alan would never come back.

After rehearsal, Carmen walked Esti to the bottom of Bayrum Hill, still joking about Hamlet. Esti stood in indecision as she watched her friend disappear in the direction of her own house. Sea-scented trade winds gently rustled the palm trees, tickling Esti’s hair against her face and muting the faint sound of waves on the beach below.

She didn’t want to go back up Bayrum Hill yet. As soon as she reached the house, her mom would know something was wrong. Esti was afraid to explain her delusions of Romeo, her lame rehearsals, or her difficult classmates. What if Aurora decided that Cariba had been a big mistake all along?

Imagining a sudden low moan in the breeze, Esti spun around and strode back to the old building. She quickly felt her way down the dark aisle and perched on the edge of the stage, hoping she wouldn’t lose her nerve. Her pathetic acting obviously hadn’t brought Alan back out of the shadows, so it was time to be more direct.

“Alan, are you here?” she said loudly. “I need you.”

“You
need
me?”

She jumped at Alan’s astonished reply, a bizarre range of emotions flooding her. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream while simultaneously leaping to her feet and demanding to know where he—or to be precise, his voice—had been all this time.

Instead, she dug her fingernails into her knees, overcome with shyness. She willed her heart to slow down enough that she might at least
sound
somewhat calm and rational.

“I’m thinking about quitting the play,” she said, “and moving back to Oregon.”

“No!” He cleared his throat as if his own spontaneous outburst embarrassed him, then added more softly, “Why in the world would you do that?”

His reaction warmed her all the way to her core. After a moment, however, she shook her head. “Now that my dad’s gone, the whole thing seems pointless. Would you tell me something?”

“What?” He sounded cautious.

“Am I wasting my time? I want you to be honest with me. Tell me I should just quit.”

“Esti, you can’t quit.” The shock in his voice turned into determination. “Not when you’ve come so far, and you have so much potential.”

“What potential?” Esti threw her hands up in the air. “That sounds lovely, but Mr. Niles has let me on stage exactly once.”

“Has it occurred to you that Danielle needs more help than you do? That she has a tendency to overact when she’s nervous?”

Esti opened her mouth in surprise, goose bumps covering her skin. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Not really.” He sounded embarrassed. “It’s just that some seats are in the right place. . . .”

Esti wondered where he’d been hiding. Beneath the stage, or behind one of the walls? Maybe floating in the air, invisible to all mortal beings?

“Never mind,” she said. “The thing is, I thought Manchicay would be good for me, but my so-called potential has shriveled up and blown away.”

“It hasn’t. I’ve been listening to you practice here in the evenings.”

“You were here all along.” She rubbed her hands together, embarrassed. “Why didn’t you say anything. Is it because my Lady Capulet stinks?”

“I wanted to speak, believe me. I thought about it, but . . .” He took a long, deep breath. “I never knew you might bring me cookies.”

“You
were
eavesdropping.” Oddly, his tone actually made her wish she’d swiped one of the cookies for him. “Carmen thinks cookies are the cure for all the world’s problems. Even . . .” Esti hesitated. “Even to lure a ghost from the darkness.”

A long silence followed her words. “There is no darkness but ignorance,” he finally said.

She drew her brows together, wondering if she was imagining his sadness. “My dad insisted that rehearsing in the dark kept him honest.”

“Did he say that?” Alan sounded startled. After a moment, he added, “To seek the light of truth, while truth the while doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.”

A thrill of exuberance stabbed through Esti. “Light, seeking light,” she replied, “doth light of light beguile; So ere you find where light in darkness lies.”

Alan burst into laughter. “Beautiful.”

She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by a deep contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I could get used to this.”

“Yes.” Alan sounded happy too. “I
am
curious why you never turn on the lights when you’re here alone.”

“Practicing in the dark is what I did when I was younger.” She picked at the frayed hole in the knee of her jeans, still smiling. “My dad told me his movies made him lazy on the stage. Theater needs perfect delivery, since you can’t rely on a close-up to create the mood. Gestures aren’t any good if your words don’t hold the audience. He always said that darkness would teach me to control my voice better.”

“You have wonderful control over your voice.”

“Well, thank you,” Esti said, suddenly glum again. “Or maybe I used to. I just can’t find the enthusiasm for it any more. What’s to control, with Lady Capulet?”

“Since Juliet is one of Shakespeare’s most capable female characters,” Alan said, “the role of her mother is vital. Lady Capulet is totally subservient to her husband, yet she produced a daughter with Juliet’s strength. How?”

Esti almost smiled. This was the kind of question no one had asked since her dad died. “It wasn’t because of a strong mother-daughter relationship, that’s for sure.”

“Could you use that?”

“Maybe.” Esti felt a stirring of interest. “Maybe I could build on Lady Capulet’s lack of interest in her daughter, and how she forces Juliet into impossible decisions. She’ll be mean and scary, instead of indifferent and shallow.”

“Exactly!” Alan laughed. “I knew I was right about you. If anyone can turn Lady Capulet into a complex character, it’s Esti Legard.”

“You keep flattering me.” She stared into the darkness, overwhelmed. “But I like it,” she added softly.

He was quiet for a moment. “Esti, I want to know more about you. What is it about acting that you love so much? Are you hoping for fame?”

Esti felt a tremble deep inside her body as she realized that no one had ever asked
why
she wanted to be an actress. Everyone, even her father, had just assumed she would follow in The Great Legard’s footsteps.

“I already have fame through my dad.” Her words felt tentative, like she was exploring a new side of herself. “Quite honestly, I hate that part. What I love is hearing the magical prose, and the escape in being a different person in a different time. Right now,” she added shyly, “what I love is talking to you. You remind me how important it is to
feel
the words.”

“Mmm.” Alan sounded pleased. “Is that why you called to me this evening?”

“I have forgot why I did call thee back.” Juliet’s words left her mouth before she could stop them.

“Let me stand here till thou remember it.” Romeo’s soft reply sent shivers through her body.

“I shall forget,” she whispered, “to have thee still stand there, remembering how I love thy company.”