Stagestruck. Shelley Peterson

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СКАЧАТЬ of this.” Mr. Wick illustrated this by becoming the upstager, and then the upstaged actor, looking away from the audience.

      Cody’s head popped up from under a seat on the other side of the house, where he’d been hiding. He let out a low, rumbling growl of warning and bared his long, white canine teeth.

      “Your coyote scares me, Abby,” said Mr. Wick softly as he backed away toward the stairs.

      “Don’t worry. He’s like your ghost. You have to get to know what he’s all about. What he’s saying now is that someone is coming. And whoever it is is cautious and creeping around, making Cody suspicious.”

      “So, Cody himself is no threat?” asked Mr. Wick as he cautiously moved off the stage and back to his seat beside Abby. “He’s not angry?”

      “No, he’s being protective.”

      “Good. So now we must find out who’s creeping around.”

      “Right,” said Abby. “Why don’t I turn off the lights, and we’ll wait for him to come to us. We’ll have the advantage of surprise.”

      “You are one brave girl, Abby Malone,” said Mr. Wick admiringly. “With a great sense of the dramatic.” He chuckled with pleasure. “I like your plan.”

      Abby crept quickly over to the wall with the light switches and turned them off. The theatre was immediately pitch black. Abby felt her way back to sit beside Mr. Wick. They waited.

      Hilary saw the lights go off. She had been about to open the door, but now she waited, unsure of what to do. It was windy and she was starting to chill in her wet clothes. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the thumb latch. The door opened. Now what? It was very dark inside, with the windows covered in thick black fabric.

      “Hello?” she called feebly. “Hello? Abby?” Hilary called out louder with each word she uttered. She was gaining confidence, since nothing had sprung out at her. Yet, she thought.

      Abby called out. “Who’s that?”

      “Me. Hilary James.”

      “Hilary? Mousie?”

      “Yes. Is that you, Abby?”

      “Yes! Just a minute, I’ll get the lights. Don’t move or you might stumble.” Abby was at the switch within seconds and the theatre was bathed in light. “That’s better, isn’t it?” she said, grinning.

      “Much better. Thanks, Abby.”

      The two young women smiled at one another. In the two years since they’d last met, Abby had grown taller and filled out. They were the same height now, and of similar builds.

      “It’s good to see you,” said Abby. “It’s been a while.”

      The older girl nodded. “Since the steeplechase, I think. Just a minute, what is this?” Hilary took in her surroundings. She looked around, amazed. “Holy! The old theatre! I heard about this when I was a kid.”

      “Yes!” confirmed Abby. “Oh, and this is Mr. Wick, the man who owns it.”

      Mr. Wick had risen from his seat and was making his way up the aisle to the girls. He put out his hand for Hilary to shake.

      “Robert Wick,” he said.

      “I’m Hilary James. Pleased to meet you,” said Hilary as she took his hand.

      “I’ve heard all about you, young lady. You and that sensational beast of yours. You made us all proud.” His blue eyes glittered in his smiling face. Abby could see that it was sincere praise.

      “Thank you,” said Hilary. “I’ve heard about you, too. From my grandmother, Joy Featherstone.”

      Robert Wick blushed. “Well, I’ll be. Joy Drake. She’s talked about me?”

      Hilary grinned. “She said you were the one that got away.”

      “She didn’t! Well, that’s nonsense. She turned my head from the moment I spied her. She was a little young for me, that’s all. I was in my last year of high school when she started grade nine.”

      “Four years difference doesn’t seem much now, though, does it?” commented Abby slyly.

      “You stay out of this,” said Mr. Wick. “You girls are ganging up on me. It’s not fair.”

      They all laughed, happy to share a joke and ease the tension.

      “Now that the threat of a monster is over, girls, I must be on my way. The rain seems to have stopped, so you can get home dry.” He looked fondly at Abby. “It was nice to see you again, Abby.”

      “I feel like I’ve met you for the first time, Mr. Wick.”

      He smiled. “I guess you have, too.” He turned to Hilary. “Take care of that horse of yours, young lady. And say hello to your dear grandma for me.”

      “I will,” Hilary promised. “She’ll be pleased.”

      Robert Wick doffed his cap and started to leave the theatre, feeling much younger than when he’d arrived. He remembered his shotgun just in time. “Oops. Can’t leave this old thing lying around. Loaded or not.” He smiled at the girls and waved goodbye.

      “What do you make of that?” asked Abby once the door had closed. “I can’t imagine Mr. Wick having romantic feelings, but did you see him blush when you mentioned your grandmother?”

      Hilary nodded. “I know what you mean. Grandma told me that he was a heartthrob in high school.”

      “A heartthrob?” Abby laughed. “It’s hard to imagine him making any hearts throb, but he’s very nice. He wanted to be an actor, or at least be in show business. Can you imagine that?”

      “Grandma said he was a good actor, too. But hang on.” Hilary reached into her pocket. “I forgot to call my mother. Everyone’s worried about you being out in the storm with the two mares.”

      “You came looking for me?” Abby asked.

      “Yes.”

      Abby was struck by Hilary’s kindness. “But you could’ve been hit by lightning!”

      “No kidding! It was awful. And all along, your horses were warm and dry and you’re in here chatting it up with Grandma’s old heartthrob.” She chuckled. “My mom’ll call your mom, and they can all stop worrying.”

      Hilary turned on the phone and dialled. It was answered after one ring. “Hi, Mom . . . I’m fine . . . Abby’s fine, the horses are fine, everyone’s fine . . . At the old Wick farm . . . Yes, we’re in the old theatre . . . No, never, but I remember you and Dad talking about it . . . We’re on our way . . . Don’t worry, the storm’s over. We’ll be okay . . . Yeah, my cell was off the whole time . . . Mom, I just forgot to turn it on. I’m sorry . . . Love you, too. Bye.” Hilary pressed the off button, shaking her head. “Once a mother, always a mother. I’ve been away for four years, and as soon as I’m home, she worries.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ