Rain (Hudson 1)

"Oh' I said looking at the cast list. What would Grandmother Hudson think of this? Would this make a mountain out of that molehill of Mount Olympus she accused me of falsely creating? "Do you know this Corbette Adams?" I asked Audrey.

"A huh," she said. "He was in a play with me last year, Harvey. He played Elwood and I played Elwood's sister."

"Well, what's he like?" I asked her.

"I don't know. We were only in a play together," she replied, as if I had asked her to reveal her deepest, darkest secrets. She looked down and then hurried into the classroom.

I stared at the cast list for a moment longer. If Mr. Bufurd thought I could play the part, he must not have been worrying about my being half AfricanAmerican, I thought.

But that didn't keep me from worrying about it all day and trembling as I strolled over to the theater building after school to be in my first rehearsal in any play ever. I didn't walk like someone determined and excited. I was still a little indecisive. I told my pounding heart I could still back out.

All of the rest of the cast was already there when I arrived. They had the advantage of already knowing each other and needed no introductions. From the way they looked at me, I felt confident I was the subject of their conversation. After all, who was this girl who came charging through the venerable corridors of Dogwood to achieve such dramatic successes so quickly? Did I have political influence? Did I deserve the role? What was Mr. Bufurd thinking of? How would Corbette play lover to me?

I slowed as I approached them. Colleen Littlefield, Mr. Bufurd's production assistant, stepped out of the group.

"You're late," she pounced, wagging her head. "Mr. Bufurd insists we all be right on time. Being on time for an entrance is crucial to the theater," she continued in a lecture mode. The others froze their faces, their frightened eyes directed at me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "But I can't be very late."

"Late is late. That's like saying I'm not very pregnant," she added and there was a ripple of nervous laughter. "What does the rest of the cast do if someone misses her entrance?"

"Punt," one of the boys remarked and they all laughed so simultaneously and so hard it reverberated like a television sound track through the auditorium.

I gazed around.

"I don't even see Mr. Bufurd," I said.

"He'll be here shortly. I get things started every day. That's my job," she said smugly.

"So do it," I fired back at her. If she considered herself tough and nasty, she should meet Nicole, I thought. "You're just wasting more time with these histrionics."

The smiles on some of the faces vanished instantly. A few turned to Colleen to see what she would do. Audrey was the only one who looked happier, her smile widening.

"Good afternoon, gang," we heard Mr. Bufurd call from the rear of the theater before Colleen could get her jaw unlocked. "Sorry I'm a little late," he followed. He started down the aisle.

I walked up to Colleen.

"Doesn't he know better than to be late? What's the cast to do?"

A tall boy laughed loudly, his sapphire eyes brightening. He had broad shoulders and long legs. Under the spill of the stage lights, his dark brown, unruly hair held hints of copper. It reached the nape of his neck and curled upward, barely brushing the white collar of his thin shirt. No girl in her right mind would deny he was good looking, I thought. He tilted his head just a little to the right as if waiting to see what I would do or say next and our eyes met.

His didn't falter; they held as his strong lips opened slightly. He had a straight, Roman nose in perfect proportion to his other facial features. I saw a self-assurance in his eyes, a strength that was different from the strength I always saw in Roy's eyes. This strength came from a deep well of confidence and not from anger or pain. His eyes left mine first, but not to turn away. On the contrary, he took in the rest of my face slowly, moving to my throat, lingering at my bosom, and then traveling down to my waist, hips, legs and then back up again, just as slowly until he found my eyes, his now changing to reflect more curiosity and even appreciation, I thought with a small trembling beneath my breast.

"Good, so you've all met," Mr. Bufurd declared, dropping his briefcase on a chair. "Did you introduce Rain to everyone, Colleen?" he asked her.

"Not yet, Mr. Bufurd. She arrived only seconds before you did."

"Oh, okay," he said. "Gang, this is Rain Arnold, our newest discovery. I hope you'll all make her feel at home and quickly make her part of our little family. As some of you who have been in one or more of my productions know, it doesn't take long for all of us to bond in a special way, and if we don't have that bonding, the production suffers. From this day forward, we all pull hard for each other to be successful.

"Everyone have his or her script, Colleen?" he asked, turning to her.

"Everyone but Rain Arnold, Mr. Bufurd," she said with syrupy sweetness.

"Well let's get to it," he said clapping his hands.

She thrust a script at me as if she imagined it was a knife. Everyone sat.

"Let's begin with an introduction of players and then a read-through. Why don't you start, Gerald," he said.