Arise, Fair Sun

It was a climactic moment of the town high school production of Shakespeare’s classic Romeo and Juliet. The show had gotten off to a bumpy start, as the microphones somehow glitched and so no one heard anything the cast was saying for the first ten minutes of the play, but that was all right since several of the main players forgot their lines anyway. Everyone muddled on, however, and they had finally reached the balcony scene.

Romeo had taken his place on stage, although he manifestly didn’t want to be there. He was a senior named Dale who was a school team running back and therefore believed popular; he had only taken theater to add some elective credits. The girl who had been playing Juliet had come down with mono at the last minute and so her understudy had been swapped in, and he didn’t much care for the understudy at all. thought Juliet was okay in the looks department, but she didn’t seem to like him much, and she kept staring down at the floor. Also, she had issues with projection; when she’d practiced her lines, she’d barely managed whisper-level. When Ms. Ryan had told her she’d have to go on opening night as Juliet she nearly fainted.

“But-” she said.

“The show must go on!” said Ms. Ryan dramatically. “You can do it, Donna!”

“Diane,” she’d said, but Ms. Ryan hadn’t heard her.

Now here they were, Act 1, Scene 5. The balcony scene wasn’t until the next act, but in the haste of the moment they hadn’t had a chance to rehearse this part with Diane, who hadn’t quite registered it herself. She got through the first four scenes without much trouble, but then the fifth scene came. She found herself saying the lines and realizing, in growing horror, what precisely would be required.

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ -

She coughed, losing the last word. Dale smirked. His next few lines had a tinge of mockery, while she barely got her lines out at all. Her face flushed through varying shades of red. This wasn’t happening. This absolute moron who hadn’t really understood the point of anything he’d studied throughout this semester in theater class at all was not about to-

“Then move not,” Dale said, smirking again, “While my prayer’s effect I take.”

“Ah, no,” she said, “Actually some saints do move after all and if it’s all right I think I’m going to wait over here thank you.”

“Hey,” he said, “That’s not in the-”

“Verily,” she said, suddenly inspired, “Know I truly that not in the book it is, but on taking thought again I find my mind hath changed, and besides, if this were true from my kin would I e’er be …” she paused, searching for a rhyme, “Estranged!”

Diane bowed, triumphantly, and walked out. Dale stood alone on stage, feeling more than a bit silly. Not having quite the gift for improvisation that Juliet had, he managed a strangled sort of “Uh…”.

Ms. Ryan made a snap decision to call the show early and ring down the curtain. There was a burst of surprised applause from the audience, who appreciated the variety. The town’s newspaper theater critic, who happened to be in the audience, wrote a review which was kinder than he’d initially planned, finding that Juliet’s flight from the stage represented a whole host of things Juliet herself hadn’t even thought of. As for Diane herself, she was primarily relieved the whole thing was over and done with. Although, she had to admit, that sudden burst of inspiration at the end had been fun.

Perhaps, she thought, she would take theater next year too.

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This story was written for the Flash Fiction Friday prompt by Scoot :

FFF - Theater