In Harmony(75)

“Hamlet, Hamlet,” Lorraine cried.

Horatio was in my ear, taking hold of my arm. “Good my lord, be quiet.”

I seethed, glaring at Laertes, reality blurring. “I will fight with him upon this theme until my eyelids will no longer wag.”

“O my son, what theme?” Gertrude wailed.

Willow was on the bier now, eyes closed again, face pale and beautiful. The enormity of what had happened to her last summer welled up in me like a tremendous wave.

He drugged her. A deathless death that left her with relentless dreams, and I can’t change it. Marty’s wrong. I’m too late. The story is told.

I stood alone, my gaze on Willow and nowhere else, and spoke the line that was given to me to speak. “I loved Ophelia.”

No one spoke. No one moved.

Willow opened her eyes and her lips parted in a little gasp. A small intake of breath that whispered through the silent stage. She sat up slowly, a trembling smile over her lips.

“Okay, folks,” Marty said. “Let’s take a break.”





Martin called us around the circle. The intensity of Act V was as palpable as the red marks around my neck and the bruises on Justin’s wrists.

“The beauty of theater is it can be very real,” Martin said. “And despite the battle scars, I consider tonight a tremendous success.”

He had Justin and I shake hands.

“Sorry about your neck,” he said, gripping my hand hard. “Hope it doesn’t hurt too bad.”

I gripped harder and his smug smile fell.

“Watch yourself, Pearce,” he said, leaning in to my ear. “Her dad’s company owns you. Make sure you keep on his good side, eh?”

With the equilibrium restored for everyone else, Marty gave the night’s final announcements.

“My generous deadline for getting off-book has come and gone, my friends,” Martin said after rehearsal. “It’s do or die time. We’re going to be starting run-throughs next week. If you haven’t already done so, get yourself memorized so we can do some real work, okay? It’s really coming together, and you’re all doing a fabulous job. Yes, especially you, Len.”

Len put his hand down and beamed proudly. Everyone laughed and the rehearsal ended on a positive note. The actors filed out, Willow gave me a last, quick glance before leaving with Lorraine, who was her new ride home now, ever since the dance.

Marty and Rebecca retreated to the offices upstairs to do some prep work, and I worked on the stage, stacking chairs and cleaning up.

Willow reappeared at the theatre entrance. I froze for half a second, then kept moving, saying nothing. I’d said fucking plenty.

“I didn’t want to leave without talking a little bit,” she said. “About the other night.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“I know I don’t. But don’t you see? That’s what I appreciate so much, Isaac. You’ve never pressured me. Ever. And…well…” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I embarrassed the hell out of myself. Slobbered over how good-looking you are. Then I puked on you.”

“Nah, you missed,” I said.

Her smile broke through. “Look, I know it wasn’t easy for you to hear what I said. I’m sorry I chose you but… But despite all that, I think it helped me.”

“I’m glad,” I said.

Such fucking weak words.

You’re brave. You’re strong. You deserve better than me.

“Anyway, I wanted to thank you for being there. And for—”

“Willow,” I said. “I’m going to leave Harmony.”

She flinched a little, her brows coming together. “I know you are. It’s your dream…”

“It’s more than that. My entire life, I’ve been tossed around. My mother dying, my father turning into an alcoholic asshole. Being poor as shit and struggling every single day. I have to make some money. Some real money. For my dad, and the theater. And I have to make a name for myself that’s not connected to this place.”

“I understand,” she said, looking away. “You have to leave and I want to stay. I know it sounds crazy, but I need this place.” Her voice dropped. “I still can’t sleep in my bed. I still wake up sweating and unable to breathe, reaching for a black pen…” She waved her hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“You should.” I moved a step closer to her, my hands itching to touch her. “You should talk more, Willow. Tell your parents what happened.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m not ready and… We should concentrate on the show, right? The casting agents are coming to see you. You need to be ready. No distractions.”

“Right,” I said. “No distractions.”

Her expression looked as heavy as I’d felt, saying those words.

“Okay, so… I should go. Lorraine is waiting for me. Thank you again, for the other night. And for being one of the good guys.”

She walked away. I waited for the relief to hit me that my life was going to get back on track. No more dancing, no more holding hands, no more holding her.

I kept cleaning up the theatre. I found a piece of paper on the floor, near the back. Hamlet’s love letter to Ophelia in Martin’s messy scrawl.