This part introduces the director. Who, you might ask, would ever be so insane as to direct a play with Riley Reed in the starring role? I'll tell you whom: Mr. Serensits. His character is roughly modeled after my ninth-grade bio teacher substitute, Mr. Middlecamp.
Our real teacher called in sick during frog dissection, and Mr. Middlecamp, lucky guy that he was, got to fill in. Imagine the worst guys in YOUR class, all put together at one lab table with dead frogs and the cutting tools. Imagine half the girls refusing to touch the dead frogs, with this one poor man, who was still in college, trying to control thirty rowdy ninth graders last period on a Friday. No wonder the guy always seemed two steps away from a heart attack!
Mr. Serensits' character is of course greatly exaggerated. He is what I imagine Mr. Middlecamp would be in twenty years if he did decide to go into teaching high school as a profession.
One week before opening night
"OK, Mr. Serensits, you need to breathe!" Mickey said patiently.
The actors stood around watching, taking a small break, but not too much. The crew didn't even stop to watch. Over the past few days seeing the director having what appeared to be heart failure had become a common sight.
"I am breathing." Mr. Serensits, the over-dramatic drama teacher/director gasped. He put two fingers against his neck, taking his own pulse. "Ok now." He said, rummaging through his ever-present brief case. He came up with a bottle of pills. "I'll just take my heart medicine, then we'll talk." He checked the label, nodded and began struggling to open it. Mickey sighed, took the bottle and popped it open. Mr. Serensits nodded in thanks and swallowed two pills without water. "Now, Mickey, what were you saying about the lighting?"
"We had an electrical short because one of the actor tripped over a wire and spilled juice on the main control board." Mickey explained.
"Oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh. Not good. This is not good." The short, fat man began to say.
Mickey rolled his eyes. His patience was running thin. "Send the actors home. Let me deal with cleaning the board, and you will have lights for practice tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" The director became alert suddenly. "Tomorrow isn't good. They NEED the practice." He shouted.
The actors all looked toward him. "Not that you aren't wonderful." He said weakly. "But practice makes perfect."
Mickey sighed. "Look, I am going to have to take the entire light board apart, clean it, and put it back together. If there's any noise I can't concentrate."
"But, but," Mr. Serensits sputtered.
"Do you or don't you want lights?" Mickey decided to cut out the argument.
"Well, yes, of course, but," Mr. Serensits sighed in defeat. "Is it really necessary?"
"Yes." Mickey said. "It is."
Mr. Serensits clapped his hands for attention. "Everyone, go home, learn your lines, practice. Be wonderful tomorrow!" He seemed to get carried away in his own vision.
"And from now on no actors or food in the tech booth!" Mickey shouted at the departing throng.
There were a few grumbles heard from the theater novices, but the die hards understood.
The auditorium emptied.
Lily watched shyly. "Need help?" She asked softly.
"NO." Mickey said sharply. "Go home Lily. There's nothing for you to do here."
She bit her lip. "I'm sorry Mickey. I had no idea�"
"It's fine." Mickey said in a tone that told her it really wasn't fine. "No actors in the tech booth has been the rule since time began for exactly this reason. It was my fault." He turned his back on her and began to take apart the ancient lighting board.
Lily frowned. "OK, what's up with this?" She demanded.
"Up with what?" Mickey kept his eyes on the board as he dismantled it.
Lily frowned as she tried to put into words her emotions. "Well, one second it seems like you might be flirting with me and the next� I just don't know."
Mickey laughed. He tried to dispel the rapidly growing tension between himself and his best friend. "Lily, I'm sorry, you must've gotten the wrong impression."
"What?" She paled. "You mean you aren't flirting with me?" She demanded.
Mickey laughed. "No." He rose from his place kneeling on the ground. "When I flirt with you, you will KNOW." He assured her.
She laughed a little, self depreciatingly. "Then why did you almost kiss me when we were working on the ladder?" She refused to let it drop.
"I didn't." He said blankly.
She stared at him.
"Oh, you mean right after I wiped off your face."
She blushed hotly and nodded.
"I saw one of the other guys fooling around with something he shouldn't is all." Mickey lied. 'Play it cool Horton.' He reminded himself. 'Don't let her know how close you were to kissing her that night. Don't freak her out.'
"Oh." She blinked. "So you don't like me?"
'Moment of truth." Mickey realized. 'Tell the truth, lie? What do I do?'
The choice was abruptly made for him. Lily began to giggle. "I knew you didn't like me like that. I mean, you're like my brother or something." She laughed as she left the room.
Mickey watched her go mournfully. "Yeah. Brother." He repeated. He stared after her for a few minutes longer, then went back to the light board.
Lily stopped outside the auditorium door. She leaned her back against the wall and slid down. She buried her head in her hands. 'Why am I not happy?' She wondered. 'I have what I wanted. Mickey doesn't like me.'
She felt inexplicably depressed. 'Is it possible I wanted him to like me like that?' She wondered. 'No, of course not. I'm just sorry he doesn't find me that attractive.' She justified the thought in her mind. Her head rose.
"It was my mistake." She said to the empty hall. "I'll go help him fix it. Prove this misunderstanding won't hurt anything." She went back into the auditorium. She sat across from Mickey. She immediately caught on to what he was doing and started helping him. They worked in complete harmony for about an hour, at which point they cleaned up. Mickey rolled sets against the wall, with Lily acting as driver.
They both carried heavy boxes, chairs, and props to the closet where they were locked during the day. At long last, everything was off the stage. The two friends walked out to Mickey's car. The silence was odd for them. You could almost mistake them for Lucy Roberts and Nick Brady, except for the fact that the silence was awkward and uncomfortable.
It was unnatural for the simple fact that neither knew what to say. The drive home was silent. "Pick you up tomorrow?" Mickey asked, extending a peace offering in the Black's apartment complex parking lot.
"Sure." Lily accepted the gesture. "Have a good night." She grabbed her bag.
Mickey watched her get to the door safely, then muttered, "Not likely."
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