Chapter 123: Death by Rehearsal

Saturday, May 7, 1983

We’d moved our appointment with Jane up to ten in the morning to allow for rehearsal, which was scheduled to run from two until either we all fell asleep or died. At least, that’s how Paige put it.

To be honest, I couldn’t blame Steffie, even though I most likely would have some choice words for her (in my head, where they’d stay). This was our only Saturday with a major rehearsal for the whole cast. Some knucklehead had scheduled Prom the weekend before, after all.

Steffie had decided we could skip Sunday, rehearse Monday, skip Tuesday and Wednesday, then have dress rehearsal (aka hell) on Thursday. As far as I was concerned, it was the most reasonable schedule.

I felt like (as a group) we were much better than last year’s ‘Brigadoon’ cast had been a week out. Some of that was a higher average level of experience. Some of it was better mentoring for the freshmen. And, to be certain, some of it was me, and Angie, and (through us, if nothing else) Jasmine and Paige. Other kids who’d known Paige for two years saw her digging into the work and decided they could do that, too. Not that she’d been a slacker before, but this Paige was notably improved over last year’s model.

For Jasmine, it was also obvious that the summer at USC had helped. Not only was she better, but she was much better at prioritizing and focusing. Of course, some of that might have been more the aftermath from USC than USC itself, and some might be a lingering need to ‘prove herself’ after ‘failing’ at USC, but I was watching her carefully and her attitude and habits seemed healthy and positive.

We’d planned a date for Wednesday, it being our only real chance. Not another double date with Angie and Paige (though we all loved those), but a one-on-one date. We could use that, and so could Angie and Paige.

Mom drove us to Jane’s. The only real difference was the conversation, which centered around Prom and what Jane might think about that. Even for a normal pair of teenagers, it would’ve been an interesting discussion.

This time I went first. Angie certainly had some things to discuss, but mine were more obvious to Mom.

Once in Jane’s office, we hugged, and then I sat in my usual chair.

“So,” she said, chuckling. “You didn’t even have to call me this time for me to know something was up.”

“The TV news?”

“The TV news, the newspapers, more newspapers ... you all put on quite a show.”

“Which ones did you see?”

“The Chronicle, the Post, the Wall Street Journal, and ABC’s coverage that night. I did have a tip that something might happen, after all.”

“So you missed Wednesday’s Washington Post?”

“Not something I regularly read. How much of a headache will this cause?”

“I’ll quote Lizzie on it.” I tried to do her voice, though I didn’t try that hard. “Phyllis Schlafly knows my name?”

Jane shook her head. “You’re serious?”

“Completely. Phyllis Schlafly called Lizzie out by name. Well, called Elizabeth Vinton out, anyway. After all, she’s ‘in violation of both man’s law and God’s law,’ and therefore isn’t an innocent victim and isn’t entitled to anything. Well, presumably she’s entitled to re-education, or being spit on or jailed or whatever.”

“Perhaps the single craziest thing about this is that it actually makes regular, normal, day-to-day logical sense that Memorial’s Prom could turn into national news. Not that it would. I think that took you two, I really do. But that it could? It ... makes sense.”

“I feel the same way, all around. I don’t think this happens in any universe where I’m much different than who I am now, and probably not where Angie’s not also there and basically who she is. Too much of it was synergy between the two of us. No Angie means no co-ed Study Group, which means no Mel, which might or might not mean I’d miss finding out about Cammie, and so on and so forth. Variables upon variables.”

“Anything more now?”

“No, but stay tuned. I just have this feeling that we’re not done.”

“What else do you have?”

“Quickly catching you up on Debate: we did well at State, but not well enough to go to Nationals. We also did well at ToC, but not enough to win.”

She nodded. “I actually knew that. The Leader covered both.”

“I need to start reading that,” I said. “I’m clearly missing out.”

“They’ve picked up that something special is happening with Memorial Debate.”

“Good for them. So, let’s see ... today is rehearsals, and those will be crazy. We’re in great shape for the show, though.”

“I’m very much looking forward to it.”

“So am I. After that, I’ve got a tentative date with Linda on the 20th. That might move, or not. Mikayla and I are planning to get together before I leave, since we had a very weird Prom night.”

“With the big interruption?”

“With watching the TV news until two in the morning!”

She chuckled. “That’s not the typical Prom night, I’m sure.”

“Let’s see...”

I went over the past couple of weeks. Mikayla’s likely apartment at Northwestern (which was a relief to Jane). My conversation with Anderson. Deposition practice. Lizzie’s comments about how much we’d changed things. Sadie Hawkins (both the dance itself, and Jaya’s request).

Jane shook her head. “I’m surprised ... maybe impressed ... that she’d put it so directly.”

“Jaya is going to be another force of nature.”

“I have to ask ... is that...”

“Am I getting into a mandatory reporting situation?”

“Sort of, though I could skirt it.”

“We’re fine. She’s a year and a half younger than I am. Well within the legal limit.”

“I’m guessing she had that figured out in advance.”

“You would be correct.”

She chuckled. “Hard to believe someone who’s the way you describe her wouldn’t.”

“Yup. She knows I need to think about it, and why, and ... I do. I’m leaning in favor of it, but it’s got to ... work.”

“For someone in an open relationship...”

“It’s been mentioned. I really don’t do casual sex. Maybe I should, at least once, but...”

“But it’s also telling that you don’t, especially considering you never did in your first life, either.”

“Some version of me probably did, if there are lots of us. I keep being told that I could, easily, if I wanted to.”

“Giving my opinion...” she said.

We both grinned at that. It was, after all, what Mom paid her for.

“ ... you absolutely could. You’re handsome, well-spoken, charming, a gentleman, all of that. You’ve got enormous credibility. You could probably talk yourself out of almost all of the blow-back. Someone like Jessica might be a big problem, but you could probably overcome even that.”

“I’ve heard that a few times from Angie.”

“She’s right. Whether you could handle it and not get seriously messed up ... that, I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to find out,” I said.

“Indeed.”

“If I had to guess ... I could handle it, but it would change me, and not for the better.”

She nodded. “I’d advise against it, but if you were the sort to do that, you would ignore that advice.”

“If I’m ignoring your advice, sic Angie on me.”

“Don’t worry — I will! Jasmine, too, if necessary! And Helen!”

We both laughed at that.

When we’d finished, Jane said, “So, that’s it for now?”

“We’re still behaving,” I said. That got a chuckle. I continued, “Otherwise, yes, I think so. And I do mean ‘for now’. I won’t be in the least surprised if there are more shoes left to drop about Prom. I haven’t even spoken to Principal Riggs since that night, though he and I had a good conversation and seem to be on the same page.”

“That’s good.”

“The election Tuesday is my next big thing, if nothing else gets ahead of it.”

“Ah, yes. That will be interesting.”

We got up, hugged, and then she walked me back out. I gave Angie a quick hug on her way in, then sat next to Mom.

“Good talk?” she said, giving me a slight little grin that meant a lot more than it looked like it should.

“Very good.”

“I’m glad,” she said, then went back to her magazine.

Once Angie was done, we went home, changed, and then headed for school.

We got a brief respite from rehearsal when we stopped for a snack, which turned out to include cake for Lexi’s birthday. It was a busy week for birthdays! I never would have remembered any of them, as busy as we’d been recently.

Nine hours or so after we got there, with the clock past eleven, we finally slunk out of the auditorium and into our cars. I wasn’t quite at the point where I felt like driving would present a danger to myself or others, but it was closer than I really liked. I put the air conditioning on as high as it’d go, turned up the radio, and drove slowly and carefully, particularly around dark intersections.

Fool me once...

The drive was uneventful. Angie and Paige barely managed more than a couple kisses, and Jasmine and I were the same. When we got home, Angie grabbed her PJs, changed in my room, and collapsed on my bed.

“We have to do this again on Monday,” she said, then looked at the clock, which was showing twelve-fifteen. “Which is tomorrow, now!”

“I know,” I said.

“Kill me now!”

“You’ll be fine, sis.”

“Kill me now!”

I chuckled and hugged her.

“Okay. You win. I’ll be fine,” she said, yawning.

“I know you will.”

“Sleep. Now.”

“Love you, Angie. Always.”

“Love you, Steve. Forever.”

We were both out within a minute or two, I’m sure.

Sunday, May 8, 1983

Mom and Dad would’ve let us skip church, but we got up anyway, showered, changed, and were ready to go on time.

Dr. Ott’s sermon today was an interesting exploration of ‘Render unto Caesar... ‘ It wasn’t the first time he’d talked about it, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last. The separation of Church and State was a constant touch-point, of course.

Nevertheless, I was pretty certain I heard an echo of Prom in there. Dr. Ott seemed to look my way a couple of times, and I’m pretty sure he was smiling.

It was very different from other sermons Memorial’s Prom had touched, no doubt, though the Unitarians (just down the block) might’ve gone yet another direction.

After the service, I waited until the line of people greeting Dr. Ott had died down a bit, then went over to say hello.

“Good to see you, Steve, as always,” he said, then clapped me on the shoulder.

“Good sermon, as always, Doctor Ott,” I said.

He chuckled softly. “I must say, again ... from a theological standpoint I cannot condone your friends’ relationship, yet Ms. Vinton is quite an amazing person, and my guess would be that Ms. Collins is the same.”