Chapter One

Kaylee Rose lifted her foot to ascend the stairs and stopped it in midair. Putting her foot back down, she paused. What was she doing? It had been five years since she’d entered a theatre as a director and now she wasn’t sure if it was the right decision. In a flood, the reasons she’d given for her extended break came back to her. “I am tired after 25 years of theatre and I never get a break.” “The critics are killing my soul with their reviews.” “Have I lost my touch?” Her heart pounded. The anxiety she’d gotten under control threatened to emerge again, full force. She took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the worn wood banister that topped the cement railing leading up to the loading dock. Her eyesight became hazy and she felt like she might swoon, just like one of Shakespeare’s heroines. No, she told herself, you agreed to do this, and do this you must. How would she ever get back into the theatre if she quailed every time the old emotion threatened her? She would walk up those stairs, through that door and down the hall. She really would…in a minute.

She sat on the loading dock, trying to avoid the fresh paint stains. They must be working on the set…already? She had only approved the design yesterday. Swinging her feet against the concrete, she felt like a lost child waiting for her parents to find her. What had she been thinking? That this would be easy? That it would be just like it was five years ago when she loved coming to work? That the door would not be locked? How wrong she felt about it now. It wasn’t easy and it was certainly not like it was five years ago. Neither was she.

Kaylee had been at the top of her game. Her annual fall slot had gained notoriety of the right kind. She’d been given shows that were appropriate for the season…creepy, spooky and scary. She’d cast the best she could, work them relentlessly, and insist on the highest technical expectations. She’d done some of her best work…but then it really started to feel like “work.” She began dreading walking up those stairs and through that door. The critics found other shows to go see. Her shows were good, she knew it, but the lead critic could no longer find time for her. They called it cutbacks in staffing at the paper, but she knew they were bored with her. If she was lucky, she might get a blurb in the weekly rag. When the reviews did come, they were insipid or elementary. Not worth her time. She started to make excuses as to why she could not direct this show or that show. Four shows a year became one, that one became a chore.

She thought she would persevere. She thought the reduction in work load would help…give her more time. Time to write, time to bike ride, time to reconnect with her husband of 5 years. Alas, it didn’t. She still found excuses not to do any of it. Her husband encouraged her to talk to someone since he couldn’t help her sort it out. It only took a month of therapy for her to realize it was good, old fashioned, burn out. The only answer was a complete break – away from it all.

Three years into her “break” Kaylee realized something new…her husband was an ass. She’d spent so much time at rehearsal, she’d never noticed. He’d taken to watching television for hours and playing video games all night. She tried to re-engage with him, but he was not interested. They tried counseling, but to no avail. 

After six months of fighting, Kaylee finally admitted the inevitable and filed for divorce. After a tortuous six months fighting over china and flatware, she gave most of it to him and walked away. She kept only her books, her laptop, her bike and a chair her mother had given her when she was 18. She wanted nothing from it to remind her of that failure, as she saw it. She knew it would be hard to make a living, but she had to do it. Now she was ready to start anew.

Kaylee moved out. She rediscovered her independence. She rode her bike, she wrote, she read. She saw no theatre. She had gotten her real estate license so she could support herself, and she did just fine.

Then it happened. One day, she accidentally picked up a play. It was sitting on top of the newspaper where it had fallen when she pulled out a book from the shelf.  She went to pick up the paper, and the script fell and opened to the first pages. It was her worn copy of Titus Andronicus, her favorite, albeit under produced Shakespeare play. She read a few lines and forced herself to put it down. She went about her day, always finding her glance resting on that worn script. Finally, she gave in. She picked it up and read it, in its entirety, in one sitting. It sparked that old passion – a passion she thought long dead – and fired images into her brain.

Over the next six months, Kaylee had reformed the bonds from her early career. She felt better than ever. The break had done the trick.

In a casual conversation with Chuck Murphy, the Artistic Director of her old theatre company over coffee, it came up that they needed a director for their upcoming production of Titus Andronicus. She couldn’t believe her ears. It was a production she’d wanted to do ever since she’d staged a reading of it some years ago as part of a Shakespeare festival. The conversation started off simply enough, or so she thought, but as the concept was discussed in more detail, she discovered that they wanted to do a production based on the Japanese Noh theatre style. The Noh style encompasses a storytelling atmosphere with masked performers who use movement and appearance to suggest the essence of the tale rather than depict it. Kaylee knew this concept would work for Titus because of the brutal nature of the play. Noh style would help keep it the right distance from the audience while still effectively telling the story. The AD had remembered that this was something she’d mentioned years before. The resources were scarce at the time so it had been “back-burnered.” Now they had the resources, due to a couple of really good years, and they wanted her to direct it. It timed out perfectly. Was this fate? Or just coincidence? Since she didn’t believe in coincidence, it had to be fate. A few conversations with other members of the company, and she was on board.

The preparation had been exciting. The researching Noh theatre, cutting the script, and preparing for auditions had kept her from thinking too much about this imminent return to the stage. She hired her stage manager, Connor, a man in his late twenties with a messy head of red hair and a devastating smile, a rising star from the company’s training program. She was also allowed to hire a dramaturge to help with the Noh research and historical information. She chose an old friend, Katie, who had just completed her MFA from a prestigious university in dramaturgy.

So, why couldn’t she go in? Blind fear. The doubts started creeping in. She’d worked past them for the initial production and design meetings. She’d tamped them down for auditions, allowing the excitement to carry her through. Why was it stopping her now? Well, it was no matter. She’d made a deal and she would follow through.

She jumped off the dock, dusted herself off and gathered her bag. Her phone rang, that familiar Pink Floyd song that signaled a called from Joanie. “How I wish, how I wish you were here.” She answered.

“Hello!” She said with a knowing smile.

“Hi. How’s it going?” The cheerful voice on the other end asked.

“Great. I can’t seem to go in the building, but other than that, I’m great.” She sighed.

“Oh, my. You can do it. You’ve been building up to this for weeks.” Joanie paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come down there?”

“I’m sure, but thanks for the offer.”

“Remember what the Winter Warlock said? ‘Just put one foot in front of the other and soon you are walking ‘cross the floor’.” She laughed.

“Thanks. Right. I’ll do it. How are you?”

“Just fine. Just thought I’d check in. Have a great rehearsal.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Sure, no worries. Ciao.” She clicked off.

She put her phone back in her bag. She had no more excuses; she had to do it, now or never.

She approached the steps again. Without hesitation, and much to her surprise, she ascended the half dozen concrete steps. Unlocking the door, she entered the dark hall. Little had changed here. To her right yawned the long dark hallway, leading to the costume shop and artistic offices. She turned left down the hall. She passed the call board and green-room/make-up/dressing room on her right, the scene shop on her left and production office. She continued to move, cautiously in the dark, down the hall to the light switch. The hall flooded with light with the quiet click of the switch. They hadn’t changed much in five years. The doors were no longer orange and the floor had been recently polished, but all in all, it was just the same. A slight flutter in her stomach gave her pause. But this time it was different – not fear. But what? Excitement. Yes, excitement. She unlocked the green-room, grabber her scripts and headed for the theatre.

Kaylee unlocked the doors to the theatre. They closed noisily behind her, enveloping her in the darkness. She took a deep breath. The smell of the theatre – dusty and dank – assaulted her nostrils. It was strange, but at the same time, oddly familiar. A feeling of unusual calm washed over her, spurred her on. She flipped on the work lights and dropped her bag and pile of scripts on the tech table. The solitary ghost light, a sentinel standing guard against the dark, was in the center of the stage. Smiling, she moved it off into the wings and flipped the switch.

In the hall she could hear the first of the company members starting to arrive. She was glad she’d closed the theatre door, allowing her a few moments to get her bearings. She stood center stage and slowly looked around. The theatre was familiar, yet all new. They’d installed a new false proscenium and the floor had been recently painted. The seats were the same, but were arranged in a three-quarter thrust configuration instead of the arena set-up she’d last directed in. This space, with its shadows and drafts, strange noises and stranger ghosts, was once again welcoming her. This was going to be her home away from home for the next six weeks. She was glad to be home.

#

The first rehearsal had been going well. They’d handled the paperwork and logistics. Her stage manager, Connor, had performed like a rock star – setting up the green room for breaks, corralling actors, passing out scripts. The first break was a brief one, more of a seventh-inning stretch. They were just sitting down to do a first read-through of the script when a skirmish broke out. Two of the actresses in the chorus wanted the same spot, near the handsome hero. Tall and blonde, Will was exactly what a Shakespearean hero should look like – a dream. Maria, returning to the company for a second show, and Shannon, a first-timer, thought they both had the right to it, and they descended on it at the same time.

“Excuse me.” Maria said.

“No, my fault.” Shannon answered.

“Oh, was this your seat?” Asked Maria.

“Well, no, but…” stammered Shannon.

“Oh, okay. So you weren’t sitting here?”

“No.” Shannon paused. “But neither were you.”

“I know, but I saw it first, and thought I’d move over here for a different view of the cast.”

“Really? I thought the same thing.” Shannon answered with a too-big smile.

In the middle of all this, Will, the handsome hero, was shaking his head. Julie, another chorus member and longtime company member, caught Will’s eye.

“Is that seat taken?” She mouthed across the room to him.

Will shook his head “No” with a lopsided grin. Julie took that as her cue and strode across the room. Shannon and Maria were still bickering about the chair as Julie sidled into it behind them.

Shannon saw Julie sit down and turned to her.

“Um, I was going to sit there.” she spat the words at Julie.

Julie answered, with an innocent grin “Oh, was this your seat?” Julie made a motion to get up.

“Well, no, but…” Shannon stammered.

“Ladies, will you take your seats, wherever they are. We are ready to start.” Connor’s voice echoed around the theatre. Shannon’s cheeks flushed as she realized the whole room was looking at her. Maria made a hasty retreat to a chair on the opposite side of the room. Straightening her blouse, Shannon purposefully strode to the next available chair, shooting a murderous look at Julie.

“What was that about?” Will asked Julie.

“Oh, she’s just jealous that I’m sitting here.” She answered.

“Why does she care? It’s just a chair.”

“It’s you, silly. Can’t you see that?”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

“You’re the star. And she’s new here. So she thinks if she can buddy up to you, she might get further in the company.”

Will laughed, drawing Connor’s attention. With a whisper, he said “We’ll talk about this later.” Julie smiled.

The read-through of the script was inspiring. Looking back at her early days as a fledgling director, Kaylee was reminded that casting was a major point in the success of a show. She’d stood by her principles and didn’t succumb to pleas and bargains to cast so-and-so’s niece or the producers wife. She was always polite about it, but adamant. If they were the best for the part, they would get it, but they would have to work just like all the others.

Two weeks earlier, when she had approached the Titus auditions, she was a little nervous. Had she been away too long? Did anyone remember her? Did they forgive and forget those last few months before her “break?” Kaylee had become unpredictable. While a director can be an enigma, that was no excuse to be unprepared. It became hard to rely on her to follow through. Now would anyone even show up? Bandying these around in her mind, she proceeded. Connor had kept her focused and on task as they prepared for the audition night. Kaylee had made sure all the right sources were notified, and even went so far as to put up a Facebook post. Connor had tweeted about it as well. The response had seemed to be fairly positive, but she’d convinced herself it was all just talk. No need to get her hopes up.

She had made up her excuses about why no one would show up. Nothing was more embarrassing than holding an audition and having no one show…except maybe having a party. She had been completely shocked that the lobby had already filled up with actors, and more were coming in. It was only 6:30, the audition wasn’t until 7:00, and they were early. Kaylee didn’t want to jinx it, so she tried not to think about what this turnout meant.

Connor had asked them to step outside while he set the lobby and theatre up for the auditions. He had them fill out forms and submit headshots and resumes. He made a master list. He had corralled them, reminding Kaylee why she’d hired him. She was able to take a few minutes with Katie and talk strategy. It was a big play and there were a lot of juicy roles. She’d asked for monologues and then planned on providing scenes. The time was growing near.

Connor had kept them coming in a steady stream. Brilliant actor followed brilliant actress, all night long. It was a comfort to know that there will always be those actors that will show up and will never get cast, but they keep trying. They give it a go, swear off it forever when they get cut, and show up again the next time. They may have new faces, but they are the same.

After two days of auditions and two call backs, Kaylee felt confident in the pool of actors she’d narrowed down. She’d made one decision quickly: Titus Andronicus was to be played by Jack Stellings, a veteran actor and consummate Shakespeare expert. They had worked together on her post-apocalyptic version of The Merry Wives of Windsor. Much of the acting pool had worked in a number of productions here and around town. Some were brand new, some old-timers, and the rest fell in between. She had run them through a tough workout of scenes and even a little fight choreography. Her fight master, Dexter, was pleased with the pool of talent and was confident he could stage the needed fights.

Kaylee, Connor and Katie had spent hours after that last night of auditions arranging and rearranging the options. With over 65 people at auditions, she could cast the show twice over and not re-use anyone. The hard part had been making the final decision. After tonight’s first rehearsal and read-through, she was again confident she had the right cast.

The rehearsal ended at 9:45. Kaylee sent them home with homework. She had to get them through scanning, paraphrasing and Noh style training, and be ready to stage in five days. If they didn’t follow the schedule, it would never get on its feet in time. As she watched her cast walk out at the end of the evening, with Connor by her side, she saw the possibilities. Their eyes were aglow with excitement and inspiration, ready to take on the Shakespearean beast that was Titus. It didn’t matter to them that we had to stage a number of mutilations and end it all with cannibalism…it was Shakespeare! They had their homework and their scripts. She could only hope they’d follow through.

Connor locked the door as she turned out the lights. He’d become more than just a stage manager to her over the last few weeks. He’d become a friend and confidant. She was cautious with what she shared with him, and he was willing to listen when she did share. He looked at her with a glint in his eye.

“Were you nervous tonight?” He inquired.

“Why would you ask me that?” She countered.

“You fidgeted until we started the read. Did you think it wouldn’t go well?”

“I guess I just thought it wouldn’t go at all. Oh, me, of little faith. What about you?”

“What about me? I had no worries. Your reputation preceded you and knew it would be fine.”

“Oh no, really? What reputation?” She asked, feeling a little dread building up.

“All good, truly. They were so excited to have you back it was all they could talk about. When you chose me, I felt honored.”

Her heart restarted. Maybe her past behavior and temper tantrums had been forgotten, or at least put aside in her absence. Maybe this would go well after all.

They left the building, Kaylee feeling at last like she’d made the right decision to return to the theatre. With a wave to Connor she unlocked her car. As she sat down in the driver’s seat, before closing her door, she heard raised voices coming from the parking ahead of her. She peered into the dim lamplight. Shannon and Maria were arguing and it was getting heated. She could only catch a snippet of it.

“How dare you accuse me! Who do you think you are?” Shannon cried at Maria.

“Who do I think I am? At least I’ve worked here before. You’re just a nobody.” Maria answered back.

Shannon opened her mouth to answer her when Kaylee turned on her headlights. Shannon turned to look and see where the lights came from. Recognition dawned on her face; she hesitated a moment, then she turned on her heel and walked to her car a few spaces down. Maria looked at Kaylee’s car then, gave a meek wave and unlocked her door. Once the girls were driving away, Kaylee started her care. As she drove through the parking lot, she spied Julie walking to her car. She was looking over her shoulder as if someone might be following her. Kaylee was about to drive over to her when Julie saw her. All the color drained from her face. Kaylee stopper her car, opened her door and started to get out as Shannon’s car came screaming around the corner, headed straight for them, or so it seemed, and much faster than is safe in a small lot like this one. Kaylee fell back into her seat, a little dazed. Left in Shannon’s dust, she was about to check on Julie when she realized she was gone. There were only tire tracks where Julie’s car had been parked and there was no sign of her.

Kaylee took a deep breath. What just happened, she wondered? Julie was standing there before Shannon’s car came bursting around the corner, and when she’d looked again, Julie was gone. But so was her car. Could she really have driven away that fast? Maybe, but it didn’t feel right.

Knowing there was nothing to be done here, Kaylee drove home. Her little house was dark as she pulled up, only the porch light burned. After her divorce, she’d gotten her real estate license so she could earn some money. While living in a drab little apartment on M Street, she had found lovely homes for her clients. One day her best friend Joanie, who’d come over for their weekly TV night, had asked her an obvious question.

“Why do you live in this dump?” Joanie asked, taking the cup of tea from Kaylee and plopping down on the couch. It was a worn sofa that had been handed down to her from a friend who was moving out. It was beige with cat scratches all over the front, but it was clean and comfy, so she didn’t care. Joanie draped her long legs over one arm as she propped herself up on the pillows. Joanie was as unique as Kaylee was average. Where Kaylee was average height, Joanie was tall. Kaylee was not to thin but not fat, Joanie was slender. Kaylee was brunette, Joanie had jet black hair. Kaylee was olive skinned, Joanie was porcelain. Their friendship was solid, and their differences endearing.

“Because the rent is cheap and it’s a great location.” Kaylee snapped back as she sat in her favorite recliner, another hand me down. She hated that question.

“But you are a realtor. Shouldn’t you own your home? Isn’t that a requirement?” Joanie inquired.

“No, it’s not a requirement. I’m not ready.”

“Not ready for what?”

“A mortgage. Being tied down.”

“Right. Give me a new one.”

“A new what?”

“A new reason.”

“I…I…” Kaylee stammered.

“I knew it; you don’t have a new reason.”

“Well… no.” Kaylee curled her legs up under her and sulked.

“Oh, stop it. Why don’t you find yourself a cute little place? Paint the walls something other than beige, plant some flowers? You can afford it now, you know.” Joanie urged.

“How do you know?”

“I pay attention. So, why not?” Joanie threw that question over her shoulder to Kaylee as she turned her attention to the TV. “Ace of Cakes” was starting, and Joanie was addicted.

This conversation had gotten Kaylee thinking. Why not? She could probably afford a small place. She had business connections to help her with the mortgage. It took some time, but she found the perfect place, just outside of midtown. A few coats of paint and some flats of flowers, and it was home.

The porch had an old swing hanging from the roof. The clapboard siding was yellow with light green trim. It was bright and cheery. As the year progressed and she continued to sell homes, she’d also upgraded her furniture, one piece at time. She loved coming home.

As she parked in her little one car driveway under the maple tree, however, she felt dread creeping up on her. Something wasn’t right about the incident in the parking lot, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She put her car in park and got out. Grabbing her purse and bag from the trunk, she locked the car with her fob and climbed the two steps to her porch.

Unlocking her door, she flipped on the light switch. The blue Tiffany-style Hydrangea lamp flared into life, flooding the room with a blue glow. Down the hall, she could just see the tiny night light piercing the darkness of the back of the house. She dropped her keys into the bowl by the door and dumped her bag and purse on the bench. She crossed to her computer and hit the power button, the familiar whir of the fan cutting through the silence.

After making a cup of tea and getting into her comfy sweats, she sat down at her computer. Lila, her black and white ragdoll kitty, padded in from the bedroom, fresh from her evening nap, curled up in her lap and went back to sleep. She’d been battling with the decision to email Connor and ask his advice on the incident she’d witnessed, but she didn’t want to alarm him. It was probably nothing. But that nagging doubt remained.

She checked her email. Nothing much of interest at first…then she saw it - a recalled message from Julie.  Kaylee didn’t know you could recall a message on their free email service. She opened it, but it only showed that the sender wished to recall this message. The time read 10:15pm. Kaylee looked at the clock. It read 11:04pm. She sat back in her chair. 10:15. That was shortly after the incident in the parking lot. Kaylee had looked at the clock in her car when she drove out of the lot. So Julie had gone home. Why the rush?

Kaylee looked further in her email to see if a replacement email had been sent, but there was nothing from Julie. That nagging feeling was getting stronger. She picked up her cell phone, contemplating a call to Connor when her computer dinged. At first she didn’t know what it was. A blinking bar on her browser told her someone was trying to get her attention on her instant messenger. She clicked the blinking bar. It was Connor.

“What are you doing up?” He wrote.

“Checking email. You?” she answered.

“Same. And cruising the internet for porn…jk. J”

“Funny. I was just thinking about calling you but thought it might be too late.”

“Never too late…not for you anyway. Why were you going to call?”

Ignoring that first part, she hesitated. “Did you notice anything strange between a couple of the girls tonight?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Shannon and Maria got into a little tiff, but it blew over. Why do you ask?”

“Well, they continued it in the parking lot. But that’s not the weird part. I think Julie witnessed it, and then was almost run down by Shannon. I was trying to leave when I came into the middle of this. When I recovered from Shannon’s Nascar driving, Julie was gone.”

“Gone? How do you mean, gone?”

“Not there. Vanished. Tire tracks and all.”

“So she got in her car and drove away? I’d have done the same.”

“It didn’t seem like there was time. But when I got home, there was an email from her that she recalled, only 15 minutes after the incident. Am I worrying for nothing?”

“Most likely. Julie probably got freaked out by Shannon and took off before you could ask any questions. You’ll see her tonight. Maybe you can ask her.”

“Maybe you’re right. I guess I’m a little shaken by the whole thing.”

“Need anything? Cup of tea? Shot of scotch?”

“Haha…only single malt, please.”

“You got it. Be right over…”

“Um, thanks but not tonight.” Kaylee’s heart was pounding. What was this? “I’ve got to show a house early tomorrow. No whisky-headed mornings for me. Rain check?”

“Sure. Rain check.”

“Thanks Connor. Goodnight.”

“G’night, Kaylee.”

She signed off and turned off her computer. It had been a big day, and she was really tired. Finishing her tea and pushing the cat off onto the floor, she padded down the hall and fell into bed. All thoughts of Julie and Shannon disappeared. All that remained were thoughts of Connor…as she drifted off into a dreamy sleep, Lila curled up at her side and purred.

#

The morning started off on a bad note. She overslept, and had to race out of the house with no breakfast or coffee. Not a good way to start a day. The client demanded a lot of answers that she didn’t have. She spent a lot of time on the phone with the owners trying to pin them down, and in the end, the prospective client seemed satisfied. She left the showing with an offer in hand, and she thought it was right on track.

She stopped for breakfast, showed another house, and had coffee with Chuck Murphy in the late afternoon.

“How’d your first rehearsal go? Everyone show up?” he asked as he sipped his cappuccino. Chuck was a middle aged man with a full head of silver hair and a kindly face. He was aging well, the few wrinkles that were visible around his eyes added character and charm. He was about six feet tall and clearly enjoyed life, as the little bit extra he carried around could show.

“Very well. All who were supposed to be there were there. Jack is brilliant and will carry Titus well. The chorus seems strong, although some are very young. Connor is a great stage manager. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“Well, he’s heard about you and when he found out you were coming back, he asked to be considered. I worked with him twice last year, and mentored him in the beginning, so I knew what he could do. I was happy to recommend him.”

“He’s sharp. We started and ended on time. I didn’t have to ask him to do things, he just did them. I’m not used to that. I’m afraid I may become very dependent on him. What will happen when I have to work with a new stage manager? I’ll probably end up codependent.” Kaylee spoke with a smile.

“Nonsense. Connor’s not going anywhere yet, so quit worrying.” Chuck laughed.

“Fine. There was a little skirmish, if you can call it that, between a couple of the girls. Do you know Shannon Taylor or Maria Hart?”

“I’ve heard of Shannon and Maria has done one show here. Why?”

“Well, they argued last night, over a chair, then again in the parking lot. I think Shannon has a temper. She almost ran down Julie Stewart in the parking lot.”

“Good God! That’s terrible. Any idea why?”

“Not really. But I’m a little worried. Julie sent me an email, and then recalled it right away without sending a replacement message. I tried calling her today, but no answer.”

“Shannon has a bit of a reputation as a trouble maker. When I heard she’d auditioned, I considered warning you. But I’ve also heard she really wanted to work here and had settled down. Now I’m afraid I might be sorry for that decision.”

“No, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I guess I’ll see what happens tonight. Enough about me. How are you doing?” They passed another hour in comfortable conversation. With a kiss on the cheek, Kaylee stood up to leave. Chuck grabbed her hand.

“If anything gets weird with those girls, you call me. Remember, it is part of my job to make sure everything is going along well. Promise?” he urged.

“Absolutely. I promise. But everything will be fine.” Kaylee waved as she trotted off to her car. She just had time to grab some dinner and review her notes for rehearsal before heading to the theatre. She had no idea if it would be fine, but she didn’t want Chuck to worry.

#

The tension between Maria and Shannon had been growing since rehearsal began. Connor called the cast together at 7:00 for announcements and updates. Maria and Shannon placed themselves on either side of Will, who was three shades of red because of the attention. He kept trying to move away, but Shannon followed him. And if Shannon followed, so did Maria.

By 7:15, Will was exasperated, Connor was angry and I was irritated. I finally signaled for Connor to call a 5 minute break and took the girls aside.

“What is going on here? You are seriously disrupting the rehearsal, and we’ve hardly even started.”

Shannon smiled her innocent smile. “Nothing, Ms. Rose. I was just trying to make sure I could hear the announcements.”

Maria scoffed. “Sure you were. And you can hear better if you stand next to Will, I suppose?”

Shannon shot her a look that would break glass. “Will has nothing to do with this.”

“Enough,” Kaylee interjected. “I don’t care what is going on, but it has to stop. Will does need two chorus girls hanging around his neck while he’s trying to work. So back off, and behave or I’ll have to let you go.”

Maria stared at Kaylee. “What? You’d fire us over this?”

“Yes, if you drive me to it. I will not put up with this petty behavior from my cast members. I expect you to behave like the grown adults that you are. If you don’t, I will find someone who will. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Rose.” Shannon and Maria said, in unison.

“But…” stammered Maria.

“Yes?”

“But why isn’t Julie involved in this conversation?” Maria asked.

“Because she’s not here, and she’s his sister.” Kaylee answered, then turned on her heel and walked away.

Shannon and Maria stared after her. A mumbled “sister” wafted after Kaylee as she walked away, pleased with the effect of her information on those two girls.

Connor stopped her. “What was that about?”

“I called them on their silly behavior. I told them to back off of Will or I’d let them go.”

“You didn’t!” Connor exclaimed. “Wow. Remind me not to mess with you.”

“Consider yourself reminded.” She answered with a smile. “Not that you have much to worry about there…” she said to herself as she turned away.

“Wait, Connor.” Kaylee turned back to her stage manager. “Have you called Julie? She’s not here yet.”

“Yes, and she reminded me that she had a conflict tonight.”

“You talked to her? She’s alright?” Kaylee inquired.

“Yes, she seemed fine. I spoke to her just before 7pm. She’s working.”

Kaylee sighed in relief. “Great. Let’s get started.”

#

Rehearsal flew by. After a second reading of the script to time it, they started at the beginning again for understanding. Armed with her resource materials – a Folger Shakespeare Library edition and her laptop – she answered many questions, and raised even more. Why is Titus like he is? What justifies his behavior? How did Tamora become so vindictive? Is cannibalism ever justified, especially when it’s tied to revenge? The discussion was heated and exciting. Because the first reading took up two hours, they couldn’t get very far into the script, but it got them thinking. Again, she sent them home with more homework.

As she and Connor were locking up the last door, Will came back. His face looked drawn and he was deep in thought. He’d been texting as he was walking. As he came up to them, he looked at Kaylee.

“What is it Will? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Connor asked.

“Not a ghost. I just got a very cryptic message from my sister. ‘Wil. need you. can’t call. GPS…’ And that’s it. What the hell does that mean?”

“Oh my. That doesn’t sound good. Does she usually send things like that?”

“No, she’s one of those weird ones that use full words and everything, even in a text. Damn English majors.” Will growled.

“What do you think she meant by ‘GPS?’ Does she have it on her phone?”

“Yes, but I don’t know what to do with that. How does it work? I think you can pinpoint someone’s position, but how? How? And where is she that she can’t call me?”

“Calm down. We’ll figure this out.” Connor put his hand on Will’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry to bother you guys, I know you probably want to go home. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Are your parents around?” Kaylee asked.

“No, they moved to Florida last year. Dad retired and mom transferred. Dad’s got arthritis really bad, so the cold was too much.”

“Should you call them?” Connor asked.

“No, not yet. She’s probably fine and just being dramatic. I don’t want them to worry when they can’t do anything.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing, I guess. I’ll see if I can figure out this GPS thing. G’night.” Will turned to go.

Kaylee stopped him. “Will, please call me if you need me. My number is on the contact sheet.”

“Thanks, Ms. Rose. I will.” Will walked away.

Kaylee, chewing on her nail, started to walk toward her car. Connor caught up with her.

“What do think that was all about?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know, but I got a feeling it’s not good.” At that moment, Kaylee’s cell phone beeped at her. One new text message.

“Oh God, it’s from Julie.” Kaylee took a deep breath, pressed the button to retrieve her texts, and sighed in relief. “She says, ‘Fine. No worries. See you tomorrow.’ Will must have reached her. Sweet.”

“Good. She’d better have a good reason for scaring Will like that. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“That’s enough for one night.” Kaylee set her phone to silent. She opened her passenger door and dropped her purse, bag and phone on her seat. “Good night, Connor. See you tomorrow. Great rehearsal.” She walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door.

“G’night, Kaylee. Sleep well.” He started towards his car.

“I will.” As she got in the car, her phone was hidden behind her bag. She didn’t see it light up as a new text message arrived, this one marked urgent.