STAGE
FRIGHT
By Suzanne Cordatos (198 words)
Half-dead leaves hung over weathered plywood
walls. Paint created cacti and rocks from mere Styrofoam. Red lighting cast a
western glow over the school’s on-stage desert.
“Kudos to
the tech crew.” I winked at my best friend, Nick, whose creativity inspired the
fall musical transformation. “Nice tub, too.”
“Thanks, Chloe.
Perfect for the final number of Act I.”
Nick grinned, but I growled. “Emma can’t
sing to save her life. I should be lead.”
After not getting the role, I had bowed out
of the cast to manage odd jobs. Curtain. Props. Ticket sales. Yawn.
Hours later, the opening act went off
without a hitch. By the square-dance number, Emma twirled arm-in-arm with each
cast member, singing off-key, until she tumbled into the tub.
At laughter and rousing applause, I dropped
the curtain. The stage darkened and House lights brightened.
During Intermission, nobody heard the
backstage scuffle. On cue, I pulled the curtain open.
Cast, crew and audience gasped at bleached
bones filling the tub in Emma’s place, the skeleton’s mouth wide open as if life
had drained away with the final, off-key song.
The Biology teacher leaped onto the stage.
“This is no prop . . .”
