The Juliet Spell (11 page)

“Practice what?” I asked.

“Everything. Dancing, singing, juggling, fencing. And I must spend much of my time on Romeo. But a day’s work is a man’s duty. And he that doth it shall have the chinks.”

He grinned and shook his fist as though he had money in it.

“You can really do all that stuff?” I asked.

“Any actor must be able to do such things. Else the part goes to one who can.”

“How would you like to wash the dishes?” I said.

Edmund laughed. “D’ye expect me to keel and scry for ye, cuz?” he asked.

“What?”

“D’ye not know keel and scry? Our sister Joan Hart, a mighty woman, can scrub a pot—we do call it keeling—in such a way that when ’tis filled with water she can look into it and see visions. That is scrying. And her visions are always true. But no man in our family has the power.”

“No problem,” I said. “All you have to do is wash and dry.”

Edmund’s smile disappeared. “In England that is women’s work.”

“Welcome to the U.S.A.,” Mom said. “Here ye shall learn the manage of the vacuum cleaner or die trying.”

“Whatever that may be, that I will most willingly, mi.lady,” he replied spiritedly. “As I will learn anything that pride does not forbid.”

“Edmund, you’ve dressed up like a girl and gone on stage,” I said. “How manly is that?”

Mom laughed. “Score, Miri,” she said. “On second thought, don’t try to clean up. In fact, just don’t touch any.thing until I get home. Okay? I don’t want you electrocut.ing yourself or something.”

“Okay,” Edmund said. After he finished eating, he got up from the table, picked up three oranges and started to juggle them.

“Cute,” Mom said.

“An actor must be the master of many crafts.”

“Save dishwashing, of course,” I said. “Edmund, I’ll see you after school. Rehearsal’s at seven.”

But when I got home, Edmund was gone. The TV was sending its blank blue glare into the living room, the Riverside Shakespeare was on the coffee table, and there were a couple of new dirty dishes from Edmund’s lunch, but the guy him.self was nowhere.

I went through the house calling, “Edmund, Edmund.” Then I went outside and checked the garage, and every cor.ner of the yard, but there was no sign he’d been there.

“All right,” I told myself. “He’s just gone out for a walk or something. He’ll be back any minute.”

But he wasn’t. Four o’clock came, and a few minutes after that, Mom walked through the door.

“Edmund’s gone!” I told her.

I must have said it with a little more emphasis than I’d meant to, because her face turned pale and she said, “Gone? Back to his own time?”

I hadn’t even thought of that. And it was a horrible thought.

“I don’t know—he’s just gone.”

So Mom went all through the house, too, looking for anything I might have missed. And when she didn’t find it, she sat down on the couch beside me and said, “It’s all right. He’s been cast as Romeo. He’ll show up in time for rehearsal unless he’s dead or back in fifteen-ninety-whatever.”

I had a horrible gnawing in the pit of my stomach. Because what Mom said made all kinds of sense. Edmund wouldn’t have been likely to go wandering off without me. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. So the likeliest thing was that Doctor Dee had figured out how to retrieve him and taken him back to England and brother Will, and I’d never see him

again. Or he could be dead.

Or worse, with Vivian.

But a little after five he came through the front door. He had three oranges in his hands, and a pink piece of paper sticking out of his shirt pocket.

“One thing I have learned today,” he said as he shut the door. “The constables of this place are no whit better than the ones in London. The pox on all of them.”

“Edmund, what happened?” I said, feeling my fear evapo.rate like dew.

“Did you get arrested?” Mom asked.

Edmund sat down beside us. “I went out to earn some money,” he said. “I only wanted to make myself useful.”

“What did you do?” I said.

“After the two of ye left, I practiced my arts as I said I would. Then I made myself some food. Then I tried to think how I might profitably spend the time until ye came home. I read in Will’s book. A thing called MacBeth. Very poorly writ. This fellow MacBeth has a wife who speaks of children that never appear. And there’s this character Banquo who—”

“Edmund, get on with it,” Mom said.

“Then I tried to watch the television machine,” Edmund said. “But I could get no farther than conjuring up the big blue screen. And then I could not even unconjure that. This made me angry. So simple a thing, and yet I could not do it. I thought, ‘What use am I to Miri and the dear lady her mother if I cannot do even the simplest things for myself? I will be a burden to them all my days.’ But then I thought, ‘Wait. Have I not got skills that may seem wondrous here? Miri tells me that but few can do those things that any ac.tor in London knows better than he knows his catechism. I will make myself a blessing to them this day.’ And I took these oranges and crossed the bridge over the freeway, and I went and stood in front of the bookstore and spread a cloth before me, and began to juggle.

“And it went well enough. Near everyone who went in or out by that door gave me something. But I was not there above an hour when this most officious little fellow all dressed up in blue and patches came to me and told me I might not do so. I must have permission, he said, and sent me on my way. ’Tis a large place, so I went over to the pub called Falstaff’s, and there I did even better. But once again this yapping little feist comes up and says I must be gone. ‘This is an authentic English pub,’ I say, ‘And I am English, too. I do but make it more authentic. In London, many a man who can juggle for pennies does so, and the pub keeper brings him beer. Leave me be.’ ’Twas then he said, ‘Get lost, Shakespeare.’ ‘Shakeshaft’ I did say. ‘Me name is Edmund Shakeshaft.’ ‘Whatever’ says the varlet and gives me this.”

Edmund handed Mom the pink slip of paper.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

You have been found in violation of the laws cover.

ing Public Nuisance, Loitering, and/or _______. You

are herewith informed to quit these premises and not

return without proper authorization. Violation of this

warning will result in the immediate summoning of

sworn law enforcement, and citation under the rele.

vant statutes.

MALPASO ROW SECURITY

Mom sighed with relief.

“Dang, Edmund you’ve been busted,” I said, laughing.

Mom shook her head. “It’s nothing, Edmund. This isn’t a real ticket or anything. That guy wasn’t even an actual cop— I mean, constable. He was just some underpaid jerk in a bad uniform. But he was right. Here, you can’t just sing or dance or juggle in public for money. You have to get a permit.”

“Damn such nonsense!” Edmund said. “Is every petty this-and-that a master of the revels here? How is a man to support himself? Be that as it may, I should most like to give you what I did earn.”

And he reached in his pocket and handed my mom some money. “Seventeen and thirty-five,” he said. “’Tis but the promise of better, milady.”

“Aw, Edmund,” Mom said, and she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “What are we going to do with you?”

“Profit by me, I hope.”

“Edmund, you have to be careful,” I said. “If that had been a real cop, he’d have wanted to ID you. And you don’t have anything, not even a student body card. You could have gotten into real trouble.”

“Miri’s right,” Mom said. “Without identification you’re literally nobody. And with your accent, nobody’s going to think for a minute that you’re an American. Which would make you an illegal alien. We’ve got to do something about this. You need an identity.”

“I don’t take your meaning,” Edmund said. “What is this thing I need so badly?”

Mom showed him her driver’s license. “As long as you’ve got a little piece of laminated plastic with your name and pic.ture on it, you’re somebody. Without it, it can be very hard trying to prove you exist, in the legal sense. Then there’s a Social Security card, California ID—oh, my God, what about a birth certificate?” Mom said, panicking herself.

“This is major, Edmund,” I said. “From now on, please don’t go anywhere unless you have one of us along. Other.wise, those fairies’ll get you for sure.”

I could see Edmund wasn’t happy with what he was be.ing told. Trying to make my point, I said, “Bad fairies, Ed.mund. Very bad fairies.”

He didn’t smile, and my heart hurt for him.

“Edmund, I know this is a huge burden for you,” Mom said. “No one else on earth has had to go through what you’re going through right now. But plenty of people have come to this country from all over and learned to fit in. You will, too. You’ll learn a little every day. In a year or less, you’ll feel like you belong here, I promise. You do belong here. And Miri and I will help you every way we can.”

“’Tis a wond’rous prison ye live in… I feel cabin’d, cribbed, confined, in spite of all your kindnesses.”

Mom put her hand on top of his and gave him a sad smile. “You know, it’s nearly dinner time. And seventeen thirty-five is just about the price of a great pizza. Edmund, it’s time for your next lesson in Americana. Let’s go.”

Chapter Eleven

My mom should have been a doctor. She knew just what to prescribe. The Pizza Genius Giant Imperial Combo Feast cheered Edmund up, and he walked into rehearsal with me with a jaunt in his step.

The stage had been marked off with masking tape to show where parts of the set were going to be. And somebody had had the brilliant idea of using blue masking tape to mark off the Capulets’ place and the pale yellow kind for the Mon.tagues’.

“Get your masking tape right here,” Drew said, coming up to us. “Blue for you, Juliet, and the other stuff for this guy. Wrap it around your arm.”

“What’s the idea?” I said.

“Gillinger wants us all to start bonding with our own side,” Drew said.

“Hey, smart,” I said, tearing off some blue tape and stick.ing it on my right arm.

“Too smart for Gillinger,” Bobby said. “Drew gave him the idea.”

“Oh, pshaw,” Drew said.

“Well thought of, Drew,” Edmund said, and practically covered his arm from shoulder to elbow with tape.

At seven, Gillinger called us all to order and we started the long, boring, absolutely important business of blocking the first act. Mostly this meant standing around waiting to be told to stand somewhere else. It felt a little like being back in kindergarten when you’re so young you’re still trying to learn how to line up. And it took a long time. Most of us, if we weren’t wanted, stood outside talking, waiting for Tanya Blair to drag us back to the stage.

Not Edmund. He sat at the edge of the proscenium arch watching everything everyone did. And his big blue eyes didn’t miss a thing.

And because I wanted to be with him, I sat there, too. At first, it was boring, except for being close enough to Ed.mund that I could feel the heat of his body and hear his slow, deep breathing. But as the night went on, I began to see the thing in front of us slowly coming to life. The life was in the changes that Gillinger made to his original ideas. They were small things, usually, but each one of them was like the twitch of a baby animal trying to stand up.

By the end of the evening, act one, the longest act, was about half blocked. That meant everything from the Chorus scene to just before the balcony scene. It’s a huge chunk of the play and a lot of really dull work. But it was done, and it was also Friday night.

“Party. My place. Come on,” Vivian whispered to Ed.mund and me as we were breaking up.

And before I could think of a good excuse why we couldn’t go, Edmund was saying, “Silent as the tomb, swift as an arrow. See ye.”

So we were going to a party. At Vivian’s.

“I call shotgun,” I said.

Oh, well, I thought. What could happen at a party? Know.ing that the answer to that is, everything.

When we left the parking lot and headed toward Vivian’s place, I was glad to see Drew’s little 2CV tailing us.

“Have you seen Drew’s car?” Vivian babbled. “It’s so weird. Perfect for him, though. Know what he did in calc today? He told Mr. Kreps that numbers aren’t reality. He said they just kind of open a window on it, like poetry. Know what’s weirder? Mr. Kreps sort of agreed with him. Math and poetry. I mean, who but Drew? I’m afraid he’ll end up in a rubber room if he goes on talking like that.”

“But Drew is right,” Edmund said. “I know not what a calc is, but I do know he was right. The lion stands for valor, the hive of bees for a well-run country. Fire for the passion.ate temper. These are simple things that everyone knows. But they are not so simple. For they all express the great truths that underlie everything else. And no matter how ‘calc’ a thing may become, still it must sing its part in the great song of being.”

“That’s so interesting,” Vivian said. “I understand it now that you explain it.”

“They are but common thoughts,” Edmund said.