Chapter 18

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CAMPING with a four-year-old and a five-year-old? What an experience! Daphne and I both felt going to Disneyland for our vacation the previous year had been too much for our kids. I guess it was a case of parents wanting to do things with their kids because we thought that was what we were ready for and got a step ahead of their development. Not that we didn’t all have fun, but it would have been better if the kids had been about three years older. We’d try again then.

So, instead we joined a group from Shelly’s preschool on a camping trip. There were several parents with one, two, or six kids on the outing. We’d managed to reserve a group campsite on Icicle Creek near Leavenworth. That was the easy part. I was teaching at the Rainier Youth Theatre Summer Camp, thanks to Tressa continuing to badger me all year long. And it had been fun. I was finally able to start looking at high school kids as kids, not as sexually mature adults. I suppose the day would come soon enough when I’d start seeing college kids as kids, too. It’s part of maturing. But, as I was saying, I had to also get ready for a camping trip. Somehow, I got to thinking that we needed all the right equipment, including a tent, sleeping bags, backpacks, portable stove and grill, ice chests, mosquito netting, hiking shoes ... I was soon on a first name basis with half a dozen sales clerks at REI. We ended up needing a small trailer to carry the camping gear.

Which seemed logical enough that I found and bought the Camping Pro Trailback, a six-foot trailer ‘designed for the serious camping family.’ That’s what the brochure said. When it was finally time for the camping trip, it had already cost me several thousand dollars and I was envisioning a lifetime of camping experiences with our kids.

We got to the campground and I managed, after several tries, to back the trailer between two trees to where we’d be setting up camp. Allow me a small correction. Where I’d be setting up camp. We had two children under five running wild with twenty other kids in a forest with a rushing creek. Daphne was going to have all she could handle keeping them from drowning or being eaten by a bear.

It took me two hours to get the tent set up, air mattresses inflated, sleeping bags unrolled, the screened-in extension set up, the grill leveled and propane attached, the camp chairs set up, and a campfire laid. It was so much fun! Why had we never done this before? I fully believe insanity is inherited. It’s passed down to us from our kids.

I’d run a grill before with moderate success, so when dinnertime came around, I was confident that I could get a meal on the table in limited time. Not if I wanted the chicken actually cooked through. Or potatoes that could be cut and mashed. I had a lot to learn.

But it was all worth it. Just having the kids enjoying the outdoors with their friends and then cuddling up with us around the campfire as we sprayed mosquito repellent on every living creature in the forest and sang silly camp songs while the kids faded off to sleep. Daphne came out of the tent while I was still trying to clean the frying pan in lukewarm water. Parents all over the campground were getting their kids to bed and ours were out like a light. I rinsed the offending skillet and hung it from the set of camp hooks strung between the rails of the trailer and turned to Daphne. She collapsed forward into my arms and I just held her.

“Why was it you wanted children?” she asked plaintively. Me? Okay, maybe a little.

“What would our lives be like without them, sweetheart?”

“We’d be having sex by now. In a four star hotel in New York City.”

“We could be having sex right now over there next to the creek,” I whispered, stroking down to her firm bottom. Two kids might be exhausting, but they sure kept Daphne in good shape.

“Can’t. Bob and Donna already called dibs. Carl and Eda are watching over their kids.”

“Can we schedule it?”

We laughed and cuddled, finally going into the tent and managing to get naked without waking the children. We were about to make love when we fell asleep.

For all that it was a bit chaotic to start, the week was really fun. We hiked. We played games. We played in the stream as the tykes tried to build a dam by moving pebbles into a row. The water was cold but the temps, even up here in the mountains, were in the nineties in August.

Everything went fine until the rain started on Thursday. On Friday, half our group had broken camp and headed home. Saturday morning, after having played every game we brought with us until it and we were worn out, the sun came out again. Daphne and the other mom who was still in camp played with the kids while the two of us dads reversed the process of setting up camp, packing everything into our cars and trailer, and finally buckling our children into their car seats for the long drive back to Seattle.

As we crossed Stevens Pass, Daphne looked up at the sunny slopes. “You know,” she said, “we should come up to ski this winter.”

I felt almost relaxed when freshman orientation started. I did my schtick and oversaw the table where freshmen gathered to have older students take them on tours of the theatre and give them the big pitch on how great our program was. I’d been promoted from assistant professor to associate professor in recognition of my being fully on a tenure track. I was happy about that. Teaching agreed with me. I’d been here long enough that I knew the majority of the kids in the program and quickly learned the names of the freshmen.

“King Lear, huh?” Traci stood beside me with her arms crossed. “I think I’ll transfer to the University. They’re doing Comedy of Errors.”

“You think you can only do comedy? I thought playing Laura cured you of that notion.”

“Not only. But I just like it so much.”

“I think you’ll like Lear. I’m bringing in a guest star to play the old king,” I said.

“Really? Why?”

“First of all, because serious actors should have something to look forward to as they age. Putting an eighteen or twenty-year-old in the role of the doddering old king as he goes senile is simply too much of a stretch unless the rest of the cast are nine-year-olds. Second, working with a seasoned veteran will be a learning experience for everyone. And third, while Lear is the lead, there are a dozen extremely good roles in this show.”

“For men. There are only three women.”

“Ah. You have done some research,” I laughed. “So, in your studies have you identified roles for the boys of Shakespeare’s theatre? I’m thinking I should double cast like Shakespeare did.”

“Not use any women? Now I’m sure I’m transferring!”

“If Shakespeare did it casting boys to play the part of women, why shouldn’t I cast women in men’s roles? What if we played Goneril and Albany as lesbians? Or Edgar and Edmond as sister and illegitimate brother? Why don’t you poke around the script and see what you can come up with?”

“I think I’ll stick around just to see how this turns out,” she laughed. “You didn’t think I’d really leave you, did you, Terry?”

“Me? You mean the program.”

“Yeah. And what keeps me in it.”

Kate Winslet was waiting in my office for me. I stopped at the door with my mouth hanging open.

No, it wasn’t the actress I’d fallen in lust with while watching Titanic. But Deborah di Cambria could certainly have been her stunt double. The senior was capitalizing on her resemblance, too. I’d already heard Jon mention her name for the role of Clea in Black Comedy.

“Hi, Terry. Guess you got the short straw in the drawing for TAs this year. I’m it.”

“Well, Deborah, I certainly think I could have done worse. How was your summer?”

“I got to play in a summer rep in Idaho of all places. If I still have a country twang to my voice, it’s all their fault.”

“Working as an actress is working as an actress. Every role counts toward the next one.”

“I understand coffee is part of my responsibilities. I’ll need to get it when I come in for my voice lesson at eight, but I’ll nuke it for you before you get here at ten.” I scowled at her and she started giggling.

“Just kidding. I know microwaving coffee makes it terrible. How do you feel about iced coffee?”

“Why don’t I see if I can find an assistant teaching assistant? Seriously, forget about the coffee. I have a lot of other things to get rolling. I need my schedule of classes and enrollment. We need to order scripts for King Lear. I liked the French’s edition of R&J, so let’s go with that. We’ll need a meeting set up this week or next with Jim Mason to go over scenic concepts. Are you planning to be my AD?”

“Yes?” she squeaked. She scrambled for a pad of paper and started scribbling things down. “If you’ll have me. Jon was very specific that I should work with the director for one of the shows and I’m not going to miss the musical if I can help it.” Bolstered by his success with Victor Victoria, Dan Richardson had chosen to do A Little Night Music at the Rep this year. I was back on SCU’s stage for Lear. Jon was moving all the way to farce for the first show of the year—two one acts called The White Liars and Black Comedy.

“Hey, Terry. Coffee?” I looked up to see Traci standing in the doorway with a cup held out to me.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said. “You just saved Deborah’s life.”

“Hey, girl. Want me to take over the coffee job? I know you’ve got a class right before Terry’s usual arrival time. I don’t have anything until next hour.”

“That’s a demeaning personal service and isn’t part of a TA’s responsibility,” Deborah sniffed.

“Sure it is. I met Doug and Julie at Starbucks getting coffee for Jon and Dan. That’s what reminded me.”

“Really? Okay, Terry. I can at least get you an afternoon cup before you start rehearsals and all.” Deborah still looked a little put out but was trying to make the best of it.

“That works for me. I usually end up with the swill Doc Henredon has in a pot outside his office in the afternoon. Here, I happen to have two Starbucks cards.” I handed each of the girls a gold card that I’d filled just last night.

“Just happened to, huh?”

“One is the office card I keep filled for my TA. The other is my personal card. I guess I’ll have to pick up another. Now let’s get to work. I need to get to my first class,” I said. We all headed out and Deborah showed me she really did have a good grasp of her job as a TA and the skills to carry them out. She was a little more formal than El had been as my first TA, but she took it a little further, too, and led the class in ten minutes of warmups and stretches before she introduced me.