Read Online Campbell Wood by Al Sarrantonio - Free Book Online Page A

backward and forward. Suddenly the stage and the lights and the curtains filled her with the enchantment she always felt, and she was taken away from this place and all the faces in front of her disappeared and everything else disappeared except her voice.
     
    "These are the forgeries of jealousy:
    And never, since the middle summer's spring,
    Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
    By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
    Or in the beached margent of the sea,
    To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind . . ."
     
    She was carried away, and the rest of the words flowed out of her like wine. She had forgotten where she was.
     
    "An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
    Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
    The childing autumn, angry winter, change
    Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world,
    By their increase, now knows not which is which:
    And this same progeny of evils comes
    From our debate, from our dissension;
    We are their parents and original."
     
    She stopped, waiting for Oberon to answer her, and only when echoing silence met her did she come back to herself. She blinked, and her voice settled back into her body. The stage underfoot became only a set of boards again, the curtains just curtains, the lights not the forested sun but only electrical lamps. She was out of the woods and back in a school auditorium with solemn eyes looking up at her.
    She looked down at the faces before her, at the peculiar stare they were giving her, and at that moment a shocking realization dawned on her. They didn't hate her —they were afraid of her. Or of something about her.
    Everything seemed different now. It was as if the world had been turned on its head. This avoidance of her wasn't a peer-pressure thing, or because she was the new kid in town, or anything like that. Something to do with her frightened all these people to death. And looking at them now, staring up at her, she felt that there was something more to it: she felt they wanted her to do something. Though they didn't want to go near her, they wanted something from her. There was something she was supposed to give them. She suddenly felt upset, and a little bit older.
    "Why are you afraid of me?" she said.
    There was utter silence, and so she looked out at them again. She felt empty inside, not knowing what to say or do. She felt that they wanted to run away from her and run to her and embrace her at the same time. What could be the reason for this? She was not a freak. She was just a girl, and there was nothing about her that was different from any of them. She wasn't special. All she wanted was what everybody else did: to be accepted, to have friends, to be happy. She didn't want anything else. But she now felt this burden being thrust at her, almostphysically, and it frightened her.
    What do they want from me?
    She began to walk from the stage when suddenly Ms. McGreary was there beside her, holding her again. "Oh, Kaymie," she said, and for a moment she said nothing more. Again the woman was trembling. Then her voice changed and again it became a mixture of warmth and ice. She let Kaymie go. "You'll do just fine," she said.
    Kaymie saw that the other members of the drama club were packing up their books and putting on their coats. Some had already made their way to the back of the auditorium. A cold blast of autumn air swirled in as one of them pulled open one of the heavy doors to slip outside.
    "Next Thursday," Ms. McGreary said, and then she too was hurrying away, throwing on her coat and picking up her things. Kaymie walked slowly from the stage, hearing her footsteps echo until she reached the carpeted stairs. In the back of the auditorium a maintenance man entered with a barrel and a sweep broom; he began to work up one of the far aisles, ignoring her. She even stared at him for a moment but he did not look up.
    Maybe I am a freak.
    She put on her coat and put her books under her arm. She looked at her watch. It was a quarter to five; Mom