I Am Rosemary's Granddaughter Chapter 13: Old Man Down (sample)

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Old Man Down (Sample--can't help it...have to get it out)

I stood next to the outside of the dorm hall with tears streaming down my face and my heart feeling like it would crack a rib or two...if only Michael had been there to slam Richard's head into the wall; or we both could have taken turns at him. What I had said in there was the truth and I was happy, in a way, to say it to him but I also felt like I had loaded the rifle and personally handed it over to my executioner; or at the very least, I was in for mountains of paperwork, administrative hearings and several calls from my father about the hell I most likely unleashed.

I was okay with that.

The thought of being separated from Micheal was a bigger hit to me. Yeah, I probably be alone in the women's dorm room, either in some protected area--like in a hastily reconfigured janitor's closet or next to a dorm hall monitor. We would have less time to spend with each other and I would miss having him sleeping next to me--as having him close was the best thing in the world--and that thought made me smile as I stepped away from the dorm room and walked to the theatre.

Mrs. Peterson, Richard, my dad, ...yeah, they were all on my check list of people I didn't want to ever have to deal with but I would have to deal with Mrs. Peterson for a little while longer--with the battle scar on my arm; Rick, perhaps for only another day and dad...well, my name was no longer be Novoselic in a few months and he wouldn't have to worry about me or anything I did.

The stage was lit up but no one was there. I slowly walked down the aisles became at the time I was kind of afraid of everything--or at least of some people. My podium was where it normally was, devoid of any demonic looking teachers or letters from dungeon--dorm--masters.
Heather stepped out of the wings and ran to me. I wasn't sure how to feel at that moment--I mean for as long as we knew each other, she had the fondest disdain for me and I guess my expression tipped her off.
"I. Want. To apologize to you, I mean I just thought about it yesterday and I thought, man...I was a bitch."
"Excuse me?" I had no idea what she meant at that moment.
"I tried to steal your boyfriend."
"Fiancée', actually," I replied as she hugged me.
"Even worse...I mean--I see why you were like that and I--"
"It's okay," I replied as she stepped away. "We're used to it."
"Also, I want to thank you for what you did and about Miss--Holy shit, where did that come from?"
Heather looked at my arm.
"Miss Peterson." I replied.
"She grabbed you?"
"Uh-huh," I sighed, "but I'm okay. What doesn't kill you makes you strong, right?"
"You should report her."
"Some battles are avoided in order to win a war, you know?"
Heather's expression stated that she wasn't sure how to answer my question as the other members of the troupe filed in with Mr. Montesi rushing in from behind.

“Everyone on stage. Quick, quick , quick now! Tally ho and all the sort.”
Heather and I joined the rest of the group. I got a few friendly waves and a look of arrogance from Marcus, but I didn’t really care.
“Everyone take a seat on the stage. Wherever. That’s good.” Mr. Montesi paced back and forth and looked up a bit. “We have a small problem. We have received threats.”
“I knew we should have performed MacBeth; less controversy,” Brendon raised his hands in mock anguish.
“Maybe 12th Night?” Marcus interjected.
Mr. Montesi shook his head.
“Marcus, Brendon?”
“Yes sir?” Marcus laughed for a moment.
There was some muffled laughter from the rest of cast, but Marcus looked away from the group.
“What was the threat about, Mr. Montesi?” Halley asked.
“A part of me thought it was a hoax—made by theatre hating pond scum of the lowest caliber. I guess we if erected goal posts at the ends of the auditorium, maybe. Anyway, It may very well be nothing. In fact, I admit I shouldn’t have told you. Keep it to yourself, they told me, but you’re all old enough to know about security matters and I just want you all to know that there will be security present tomorrow. So, I suppose we will kind of be like a football game—we just won’t sell beer.”
“What was the threat?”
“They didn't say, Chad. The office just said there was to be a heightened presence of campus police. If all goes well will have quite the captive audience. Let’s get going. We’re starting at the beginning of Act Three.”

We all got up and walked to the back of the house as the lights went down.

The stagehands and actors criss-crossed past me as I readied a headset.
“Test check, Mr. Montesi?”
“Check, Kristi,” came the reply. “One minutes to start.”
“Yes, sir.” I waited a moment as the actors moved into their places. “Mr. Montesi?
I hesitated my question, for fear that is would sound like I was either feeling like I was extra special or that I was a pariah on the production. “Was the warning about me?” I asked, possibly loud enough for everyone to hear if everyone wasn’t in their own world.
“Don’t worry about it, Kristi. Everything will be fine.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied as I clicked the microphone off “Curtain!”

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