Holiday Duty

I look down from the stage into the audience. The crowd is small, negligible, really, but Mrs. Moses tells us to perform as if we were on Broadway, for this is our duty. Ben Staedler, the leading man in this extravaganza, says, “If one single soul goes home with extra joy in their heart, then we have done our jobs.” Ben’s positive spirit sparks our enthusiasm, and we perform our best. Our holiday musical, White Christmas, moves along as smooth as silk, and I take pleasure in twirling around in the fancy holiday dress assigned to me. When my third and final supporting part comes to an end, I slip back into the comfortable military costume for the curtain call. I find a spot on the floor to sit, wait for the show’s ending, and relax. 

           Since I am a senior at South High School, this is my last year to perform and my final musical. The spring production will be a play with no singing. I love the theatre—the stress of creating flawless art before a live audience causes my heart to flitter and pound.

           My school is full of talent, which is unfortunate for me. I will never secure a leading role, but I’m okay as a supporting actress. Besides, minor roles have less stress and more fun backstage.

           Ben Staedler. I have a major crush on him, but what girl doesn’t? He is tall, handsome, and has a vibrant personality. He could take Hollywood by storm if he wanted, but instead, his eyes are on college and the military.

           I have been in drama for four years with Ben, and I don’t believe he has ever noticed me. He’s never said my name, and I’m unsure he even knows it. We never sit close, nor are we ever in the same offstage conversations. The rumor is, he doesn’t date much because his focus is on a college scholarship, and his heart is in his future. To be in that future would be a dream.

           “Amy! Where’s Amy?” Mrs. Moses’s voice is panicked. My drama teacher knows my time in the spotlight is over. Why is she calling me? I ease myself up from my cross-legged sitting position and hurry to her, dragging my numb, tingling foot along, trying to wake it up so I can move faster.

           “Tina just got sick, and she can’t go on. We need another leading lady. Aren’t you the understudy?”

           “The show must go on.” It’s Jayden’s voice coming from somewhere in the backstage darkness.

           “No, and”—my brows furrow while my head shakes—“I don’t know her part.”

           “Well, I’ve heard you sing. You’ll be great.” Her fake smile is not reassuring.

           “The show must go on.” Jayden’s voice cuts through the musty air once again.

           Ben’s head points up, but his eyes are closed tight. “What is the longest holiday song anyone knows?” Everyone’s eyebrows slide towards the heavens. His eyes open, and he looks us over as he awaits a response. “We need a filler.”

           “Ohh.” The understanding sighs send a brief swish of wind through the wings.

           “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” Jayden offers from the Darkside.

           “No!” Cindy practically yells.

           Mrs. Moses grimaces and pats her shoulder. “It must be.”

           “That song is not in White Christmas—and it’s irritating,” Cindy argues.

           “It is now, and it will give us the time needed to get Amy ready.” Mrs. Moses releases another fake but authoritative smile. “And it will be fabulous.”

           “The show must go on.” Jayden’s voice sends Mrs. Moses’s hand to her head for a good rub. Ben sucks in a breath and disappears onto the stage.

           Samantha brings Tina’s costume, a long, velvety red dress lined with white fur, and slips it over my head. “It’s hopeless! Look.” She points to the hem that is four inches too long. “Ben will have to perform without his counterpart.”

           “Incoming!” Jayden sings. We stare at something rolling across the floor—gray duct tape. “The show must go on! It’s our duty,” he adds.

           While Ben performs on stage, I am costumed. Samantha rips a hairbrush through my hair, and I wince in pain. She secures a red flower to my head. Makeup is applied to my face in such a rush that I hope I don’t look like a clown. A million voices compete for my ears, each giving me instructions.

           “And you do know the speech, dear?” Mrs. Moses’s head tilts down as she peers over her glasses. I shake my head, but the look in her eyes tells me to nod, so I switch my bobblehead into an up and down motion. “Good girl. Just make something up.”

I know I can sing “White Christmas,” but I’m in agony thinking of a goodnight-see-ya-later speech.

           Before I can suck in air, Mrs. Moses pushes my back gently toward the stage, giving me no time to think. I try to imitate Tina, lifting the edge of my skirt, floating out across the floor like a princess. Ben's song ends, and he takes his bow. As he turns my way, his eyes glisten. He watches me glide towards him. His lips hold a gentle smile, and he bows toward me, looking like a gallant knight. Always the actor. When I reach the microphone, he does something not done in rehearsal—he clasps his hand around mine. I don’t feel nervous, but he must think I look it.

           I stare into the audience. The spotlight doesn’t blind me from seeing the few people in the auditorium. One group passes a cellphone up and down the row, laughing at something on the screen. One woman has her elbow on the armrest and her head resting on her fist. Her eyes are closed. I search for encouragement, support, engagement of some kind. My mother is nowhere to be found. She mentioned leaving early after my performance to help my brother with homework. She’ll be upset to know she missed my big moment. No emotion stimulates any face. Nothing. No frowns nor smiles. I feel the effort to spread joy is in vain. They are all in attendance as if forced by duty.

           Then I spot a round-faced man. The spotlight bounces off his bald head, and his face beholds an enormous grin—a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He is my inspiration, complete with a halo of light over his head. He is my joyful soul to sing to—the reason we perform.

           My mind clears, and I find my voice. “We would like to thank everyone for coming tonight to support the school drama club. You may believe the performers on stage are the show, but that is not true. The audience—you—are the show. We watch you as closely as you watch us. For we are not up here trying to gain popularity, we are here because we love the theatre, and we want to make you smile.” The crowd is now staring at me without distraction. Ben’s hand switches positions, and he laces his fingers with mine. I’m not sure if this means to shut up, but I keep going. “All the people involved tonight are working hard to learn this craft, and we appreciate you taking the time to support us, even if out of duty. For duty is not an ugly word or an unpleasant word. Duty means respect, and service, and obligations—and done in love, duty is an honor and just. My father is not here tonight because he is overseas serving our country, but one thing he taught me is that with a sprinkle of love, duty is beautiful. We thank you for coming. May your holiday wish be as pure as a dream for snow.”

           I nod toward the piano, and the intro to “White Christmas” plays. As I begin to sing, I notice the bald man wipe a tear from his eye. Ben’s voice joins mine, and they blend in harmony. He moves his hand around my waist, and the cast comes on stage. The audience stands, cheers, and yells as the curtains fall.

           Backstage, everyone is hugging. We did it, our duty. I look up and see the round-faced man talking to my teacher. She waves me over, and he asks if I would be interested in a music scholarship. I ask if he has me confused with Tina, and he says he doesn’t. Just like that, my life moves forward.

           I stay to clean, tear down, and do the work involved in putting the school auditorium back to normal. Once finished, I call my mother to tell her I’m walking home. When I hang up, Ben is standing next to me. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive you home.”

           I gasp. He’s noticed me! A smile takes over my face, and I ask, “Is this out of duty?”

           His handsome eyes shine like the stars above, and he gives me a crooked smile. “Most definitely.”