Chapter 20

I WAS PRETTY PLEASED with the filming of Henry IV. I didn’t figure it would gain me an Oscar nomination but it was my first leading role in a major motion picture. That was award enough for me. I would return to LA over spring break to film any pickup shots Kenneth felt were needed. I thought by then I’d feel confident enough to start flying again.

Returning to Seattle, I went directly into production of Othello. Auditions were the week we returned and I had a dilemma. Both Iago and Desdemona interact heavily with Othello and to a slightly lesser degree, Cassio. James Hart was a powerful actor and I needed students who could hold their own on stage with him. We did initial reads on Tuesday and Wednesday and on Thursday, I held callbacks for those three roles, introducing them to James for the first time. It was quickly obvious to me that I would need an actress who could not only hold her own on stage with the powerful actor, but off stage as well.

James was no lothario, but I could tell after one night of auditions with him that any one of my women would bed him given the opportunity. It was a problem I never had with Aldo playing Lear. He was past seventy and was a very fatherly figure. James was forty, just a couple of years older than me. Young women would fall for him easily.

I had two strong choices for Iago. Each would bring a different interpretation to the role. One of the actors had a ringing basso voice that rumbled when he spoke. He would make the role into a real battle with Othello in which he was a master game-player manipulating the pieces on the board as he saw fit. The other was tall and thin with a higher voice. Choosing him would make him into a conniving weasel, sneaking around among the other players and wreaking havoc on the players rather than controlling them.

For Desdemona, I had a choice of three fine actors. I’d had a fourth, but she was a freshman and I just didn’t feel she could hold up under the pressures of this role. Once again, I had a choice of how this would play out between the two lovers. There was the completely overwhelmed and somewhat sniveling approach to the character that drives her slowly mad, not understanding anything that is going on. The second was a strong woman who would stand up against Othello’s accusations and perhaps even realize she’d been set up before she dies. The third would be a shrew who people would be happy to see die.

It’s funny how the same role and the same script can be interpreted in different ways. I talked to James about it after I’d dismissed the other actors.

“What do you think, James?”

“You’ve some fine actors at this school to choose from. I was afraid I’d have to tone my performance down so as not to overwhelm them all. Tonight, I saw some real talent,” he said.

“Anyone particularly resonate with you?”

“It will be your decision how to interpret the roles, Terry. I’ve seen enough of your shows the past two years to recognize you have unique interpretations. I’d personally go with the little blonde for Desdemona, simply for the contrast but that might be too much for your interpretation. She’ll also need to work well with your Emilia. Don’t know who you have in mind for her, but she should match the treachery of Iago. Personally, I think the husband and wife are in on it together.”

“That last assessment, I agree with wholly. Any thoughts on the candidates for Iago?”

“Travis,” Reese broke into the conversation. I looked at my assistant director.

“Why do you think that?”

“It’s pretty obvious you’ve already got Linda in mind for Emilia and she’d overwhelm Jordan as Iago. Travis would best fit the bill for the colluding couple you’re suggesting. And I think Travis won’t slip into the shadows when playing against James,” Reese said.

“Is he the guy with the deep voice?” James asked.

“Yes.”

“Terry, you’ve got a hell of an AD.”

“I agree. Thanks, James. I’m going to work through the balance of the cast and get it posted tomorrow morning. I’ll send you a list and appreciate you making time for the initial readthroughs next week. You have the rest of the rehearsal schedule.”

“You’re welcome. Reese? Care to get a cup of coffee while the genius does his work?” James asked. Yes, he had nothing against fraternizing with the college girls.

“Thanks, James,” Reese answered brightly. “But the coffee I need to be concerned with is what I get for this guy. I need to be available while he bounces ideas around and then I need to get the cast list ready to post.”

James nodded and muttered beneath his breath, “Helluva good AD.”

Reese and I moved to the more comfortable chairs in my office and started on the deliberations over each role. There are fourteen named roles plus various senators, merchants, officers, messengers, and such. I hadn’t realized I’d been so obvious in my inclination to cast Linda as Emilia, but Reese had picked up on it right away. I decided to challenge her after we had discussed the various merits and interpretations of the players.

“Okay. I’m ready to make some decisions.”

“Great! Who do you think?”

“No deal. I’m not going to tell you yet. I want you to make your own cast list. You’ve had some good insights. Now put your cast together and we’ll see how it compares to mine.” She didn’t hesitate, turning to her clipboard and writing.

I was ready as well. Of course, there was always some scratching things out and rewriting them. I changed my mind three times on Bianca, the third major woman’s part. I finally tossed my pen down and turned to Reese.

“Okay, Miss Assistant Director. Who is your cast?”

“Othello, James Hart.”

“Yes, of course. That decision was made last year.”

“I almost put him in as Iago just to bust things up,” Reese laughed. Hmm. That would probably work but would turn the play into a contrary statement. “Anyway, Iago, Travis Lee. Cassio, Warren Davis.” She went on with the males in the cast and I checked them off my list. We’d hit the same conclusions on all men’s roles.

“Now the women.”

“Desdemona, Rachel Ward. Emelia, Linda Whitaker. Bianca, Barbara LaSalle.”

“Hmm. Don’t you have Rachel and Barbara switched?” It was the first casting choice we’d disagreed on.

“No. No matter what James said about liking the little blonde, she won’t match up with him. She’ll disappear on stage and be nothing more than a sexual conquest for James. She might end up that anyway. The girl really doesn’t have that much sense. Rachel will give power to the role and will reduce the race issue. She’s not black, but she’s darkly tanned. She’s a Mediterranean girl. Far more likely to sneak out on her father and marry Othello.”

“Okay. I’ll think about that. Type up the rest of the cast list while I take a walk.”

When casting a show, I often exercised to clear my mind. It was nearly midnight and The Box, where we’d held auditions, was dark and empty. I centered myself and began the stretches and movements I taught my classes. When I’d gotten through them, I returned to the office.

Reese was waiting patiently, drowsing over a text book.

“Okay. I’ll go with your logic. Put Rachel in as Desdemona and Barbara as Bianca,” I said. She handed me the cast list, already typed up. I scowled at her. She shrugged and handed me an alternate version with the roles reversed. She’d have handed me whichever was my decision. I shook my head and tore up the alternate. “Post it. I’m ready to go home.”

Othello got great reviews and ran two more nights in the second week than we normally run a show with Tuesday and Wednesday performances. James did end up sleeping with ‘the little blonde’ but I investigated and found out she’d initiated it. Reese went directly from being my AD to a good role in Into the Woods by Sondheim. I had one more fast trip to LA for some post-recording right after school let out and then settled in to direct Macbeth at the Rainier Youth Theatre.

You might figure Macbeth is a heavy show to foist off on kids, but the way I saw it, all the major characters are adolescents. And I had my own ideas on modernizing the show by turning it into a modern gang war. I was pleased with the allusions to drug use as I had Macbeth sitting in a darkened room stoned out of his mind watching a vision of dancing kings in the witch’s prophecy. But the star of the show was definitely Lady Macbeth. I had an incredibly talented young actress named Cali Marx who made the transition from scheming wife of Macbeth to the shell-shocked waif wandering the streets crying ‘Out damn’d spot!’ That girl was going places. If there was any way I could help her there, I would do my damnedest.

And the morning after the show closed, my family and I were in the air to Ohio. We celebrated Shelly’s seventh birthday with her grandparents and on Saturday night went to a hotel on the outskirts of Van Wert for my twentieth year high school class reunion. That’s where I found out the girl who had taught me to kiss had also borne my son. I was thankful Jan was there to raise him. What a terrible father I would have been right out of high school! I wasn’t that great a dad even twenty years later.

We headed to New York next to watch The Lion King and give the kids their first Broadway experience. I was sure that one day soon I would tire of hearing the two kids singing “Hakuna Matata,” but for then it was pretty cute.

We flew on down to Six Flags for a couple of days and by the time we boarded for Seattle in Memphis, the kids were so exhausted even the sugar energy had deserted them. They were both asleep on the plane before wheels up.

We got back just in time for freshman orientation and to get the kids both started in school. Daphne was spending her first year as a substitute teacher so she started sitting by her phone each morning to hear if she had a job that day. But the real surprise was waiting for me once classes started.

“Terry, I’ve got your coffee,” called Linda as she rushed down the hall toward me. I turned to greet the bouncing ball of dynamite. She’d done a terrific job as Emilia in Othello last spring and I was happy to welcome her as my TA this year. I accepted the cup and turned toward my office.

“My door’s open,” I said. I rushed forward to make sure everything was undisturbed.

“I let Ms. Harris in before I went to get coffee,” Linda said as she hurried after me.

“Ms... ?” I turned to enter my office and saw my friend sitting at the desk normally occupied by my TA. “Abigail?”

“Terry! Or do you go by Professor Reichert here? Oh, thank you, Linda.” My TA handed a cup of coffee to Abby.

“Isn’t it cool, Terry?” Linda asked. “Ms. Harris is teaching two of the classes Jon would normally teach. I’m covering both of you as TA since she’s not going to be here enough to have a TA devoted to her. I figured it would be easiest to just have her share my desk when she needed to come in. I was sure you wouldn’t mind. I’m going to introduce her to her first class this morning instead of you, but I’ll be with you the rest of the time for warmups before class. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Linda. Definitely. Abby, welcome to PCAD. I had no idea. Which classes are you covering?”

“Contemporary dramatic literature and advanced acting. I guess the students I get for that class will already have been through yours,” Abby laughed. “I’ll find out just how good a teacher you are.”

“Well, Linda here is one of my prized students. You should have seen her in Othello last spring.”

“Oh, I did. Didn’t you know? Daphne said you’d be so up to your ears in the production you wouldn’t even know the three of us were there.”

“Three?”

“Oh, yes. Roberta joined us.”

“Ah. Great. Linda, when can we meet to get started on scheduling and getting scripts?”

“Right after this class, Terry. I’m all yours.”

“Okay. Better get Abigail to her class then and I’ll head to The Box.”

Abigail may have had a light schedule, but I did not. In addition to the four classes I taught, I was directing the fall show and preparing the late spring production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’d gotten rights to do Arcadia by Tom Stoppard this fall and would go into auditions for the fourteen characters on Wednesday. It was a pretty well-balanced cast in terms of men and women and even though it was a larger cast than we usually use in the fall, I was pretty confident that we’d pull it off with the additional month of rehearsals we would have by not opening until after Thanksgiving. We’d be on the SCU campus stage for this show.

It had several implications. First, I was working long hours with four classes and rehearsals from day one of the term and it wouldn’t lighten up significantly in the second term. I was more or less in charge of the department in Jon’s absence. Dan wanted nothing to do with administrative work and was focused on his planned spring production of West Side Story at the Rep. He was strictly a musical theatre person.

Second, it would affect Linda’s work somewhat. My TA usually functioned as my assistant director. It wasn’t fair, though, to keep a talented actress from any opportunity to audition. I’d given her the option and she chose to AD Arcadia so she could audition for Dream. I didn’t blame her a bit. But I hadn’t found an assistant for the Shakespeare yet and with a cast that size, I needed someone soon.

“Did you know Abby is teaching two classes at PCAD this fall?” I asked Daphne after I’d kissed the sleeping babies. Babies. First and second grade. And I wouldn’t even be home at night in time to kiss them goodnight before bed.

“Of course I did. Don’t tell me you didn’t know!”

“Apparently, it’s an arrangement Jon made last spring. I had no idea until I found her sitting in my office this morning.”

“Is she sharing with you?”

“I guess so. She won’t be around much because she’s only teaching two classes and has responsibilities at the Rep. She’s sharing a desk with my TA, Linda.”

“Well, ask her to dinner this Saturday. I haven’t seen her for weeks.”

“Oh. Sure.”

I couldn’t believe Daphne and Abigail had become so close that she minded not seeing her. In fact, how much of that was from Daphne’s side and how much from Abigail’s? I certainly remembered Abby’s tastes ran toward women.

Of course, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. It hit me during rehearsals for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I try to blame it on Daphne for bringing the bug home with her from school, but it was probably just because I’d failed to get a flu shot. Regardless, Ronnie, my assistant director, had to take over a week of rehearsals—almost unheard of for a college theatre. And Linda stepped in to continue my stage movement and audition classes but didn’t feel confident to teach intro to acting or stage combat. There are no substitute teachers for college professors, so those classes were simply dismissed.

And I stayed in bed.

Daphne and the kids stayed isolated. They came into the bedroom in their surgical masks to say good morning and goodnight. Daphne had started an end-of-term substitution for a teacher who went out on maternity leave six weeks before school was out. I lay in bed and suffered.

Although not completely alone. Roberta brought me medicine, soup, and books when I could read them. She was a treasure and made sure I had everything I needed. More than I needed. I realized that as the week wore on, Roberta wore less. She brought me lunch on Thursday and declared she didn’t think I was contagious any longer. To prove her point, she ducked under the covers and vacuumed my cock into her mouth. It had been long enough since I last had sex and I was feeling just strong enough to enjoy it that I let her proceed without even thinking about it. She was twenty-five years old and if not the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, still was easy on the eyes. Especially, when she stripped off what clothes she was wearing and crawled on top of me.