My brother and I had just gotten back from after-school care and it was nine o’clock in the evening, which only meant one thing- dinner time. Today’s feast included macaroni and cheese, a side of Lays potato chips and a big cup of Coca-Cola which came from the nearly empty two liter bottle sitting in the center of the table. As usual, I sat next to the wall; It was still being repaired from last week’s play. Brother sat opposite from me, and mother and father sat at opposing heads of the table.
“How were your days?” mother asked us.
I answered cheerfully, reciting how I had made self portraits with watercolors. I made sure to explain what a self portrait was to everyone in case they didn’t know. Brother, being a grade ahead of me, was just learning all fifty states. He tried recite all of them within two minutes and a half, but father stopped him at forty five seconds, saying that he had it all wrong and he should stop himself before he was ahead.
Whenever father interrupts one of us, mother says that we did a good job anyways. Father always gives her a look when she does that; I say he’s saying he telling her that he loves her but brother never agrees with that.
In the middle of supper, father decided that he and mother were going to recite their new play. They’re actors, and they practice a couple of times every month. Mother said how she was sorry that she disagreed with him, but father ignored it and insisted that they sharpen their acting skills.
Mother is usually sad when father wants to practice, but I’m not sure why.
Before leaving, father repeated several times that we cannot go into their room when they are working. He says it’s secret and that we cannot see.
Within a minute, mother and father were upstairs in their own room, door locked. Like wild tigers, we ran up the stairs on all fours, making sure that they could not hear us approaching the set behind closed doors.
“I think they already started,” I told brother.
“Shh.”
We took our seats in the auditorium, and listened in for their rehearsal.
Throughout the years, brother and I had listened attentively to every single one of the performances. During the beginning of the year, I asked brother if he had ever seen a play. He did not reply.
Oh, how I wanted to be an actor in one of their many dramas. To be a fairy princess, or a queen who falls in love with a handsome king. I yearned for the day where father would invite me to the set and see backstage. Many nights I had trouble sleeping. I wondered what it was like to stand on that towering stage, looming over the endless rows of seats. I asked father if I could be in last week’s play, but he did not hear me and continued to eat his dinner. Mother answered no for him, which made father angry.
Mother and father usually start their play with some simple dialogue. Mother told us this month that their current play would be about a fairy queen who fought to defend her kingdom from an evil king. Father, though, said that it would be about an evil witch who cursed a once ordinary man, burdening him with two pesky little goblins who he could not get rid of. Either way, we both listened intently to the opening scenes.
Mother began this play with a soft-spoken melody, “I don’t see why you won’t let me do or say what I want, I have free will you know?”
It seems as if they were following mom’s story idea this time around.
“You can do what you want, but do you always have to go against what I want?” the evil king questioned.
“I’m not purposely trying to disagree with you, I don’t see why you think I do,” sang the queen.
The king’s temper began to flare. Their plays always follow the progression of starting out spoken normally and ending up in a fiery sounding bellow.
“You don’t purposely try to disagree with me? All you do is disagree with me! Night and day, we’re always battling over what you do!”
Were they going to go to war after all? The king did a great job of sounding unhappy.
Father is a great actor.
“I can’t handle this anymore. If we fight one more time, I’m leaving.” The queen’s voice quivered with a beautiful intonation.
“Right, leave, that’s your answer to everything,” wailed the king like an opera singer.
The actors remained silent for ten minutes. I wish we could have seen what was happening, but mother and father doesn’t want to spoil the plays for us. We have never actually seen one, but mother tells us we will one day.
Without warning, the intermission began and father exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him as to make sure that we could not see the set. He walked straight past us, but I don’t think he minded much because he realized how fascinated we are by his acting.
In under a minute, he returned to the doors, but now with a prop in hand- a metal baseball bat. Father likes to use the baseball bat to make music for the play. In most cases, the second half does not have much dialogue at all. There is usually a scream or two.
Thus began part two. It began with dancing. We can tell because there are lots of stomping sounds on the ground, and that is the only explanation. Sometimes mom trips accidentally. We can tell because of the loud thud on the ground, and that is the only explanation. Many times we can hear drums. We can tell because there are lots of violent pounding sounds on the wall, and that is the only explanation. Mother began to sing for a little bit, and when she does she sounds like a singer from one of those angry bands with loud distorted guitars and very loud drums, only with a beautiful voice. If we listen closely enough, we can hear mother granting her little fairy friends life, hyperventilating to breath in as much life as possible, and then releasing it through her eyes.
The sound of the drum being struck rang out for the final time.
Once again, silence struck for ten minutes.
Without warning, a second intermission began and father exited the room.
“Sweetie,” he asked me, “can you come in please?”
Finally, a chance to be an actor in his play! My mind raced with all of the possibilities that lied ahead of me, of what I would do, what I would say and who I would be.
As father took my hand and led me to the room, I took a quick look back at my brother to brag that I had been chosen over him.
Instead of an angry and envious expression, there was simply a blank stare accompanied with a ghastly face and empty, abysmal eyes.
I felt a sudden urge to return to brother.