Read Online The Hanging Hill by Chris Grabenstein - Free Book Online Page A

curious?”
    “I guess.”
    “Come on, Zack. Curiosity helps us see just how lively life can be!”
    “Hey, that’s from Curiosity Cat!”
    “I know. I sing it in the first act! Best number in the whole show!”
    They entered the rehearsal room.
    The cast, including a gangly guy with googly eyes and a goofy face—Zack recognized him immediately as Tomasino Carrozza—sat around cafeteria-type tables set up in a horseshoe.
    A ghoulish-looking man with a mustache as thin as an eraser smudge sat in the center of the middle table. Zack figured he must be Reginald Grimes, the world-famous director. A dark-skinned man wearing a red hat that resembled an upside-down sand bucket with a tassel on top sat next to him.
    Judy was at the first table to the left. Zack gave her a nervous wave and found a chair in the back of the room, near the coffeepot.
    “Sorry I’m late,” said Meghan as she hurried to an empty chair at a table full of actors. “The elevator’s still broken.”
    Then nobody said anything.
    A few adults coughed or cleared their throats.
    Some nibbled on baked goods. Meghan chomped into a doughnut, which was a good thing as far as Zack was concerned. Meant his new friend wasn’t a ghost. The spooks he’d met in North Chester never ate anything, not even the chubby ones!
    Everybody kept waiting for the director to speak.
    Only, the director wasn’t speaking. He was sitting at that center table, eyes glued to the pages of some musty old book that wasn’t the script to Curiosity Cat . It was too thick, the size of the New York City Yellow Pages.
    “Sir?” said the company manager.
    Nothing.
    “Mr. Grimes?”
    It seemed as if Mr. Grimes couldn’t hear her. It also looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.
    “Reginald?”
    “Hmmm?”
    Finally.
    “Everybody’s here, sir.”
    “Hmmm?”
    “Everyone’s assembled for the table meeting.”
    Grimes sighed. Seemed perturbed.
    He stood up and traced a finger across both eyebrows and his mustache, maybe to make sure they were lined up just the way he liked them. Zack noticed that Mr. Grimes never used his left arm. It looked paralyzed, cocked at a slight angle by his side.
    “Welcome to the Hanging Hill Playhouse,” the director mumbled quickly. “Hakeem?” Grimes sat down, returned to his book. The even scarier man in the red hat stood up.
    “Greetings. I am Hakeem. I will be assisting Mr. Grimes on this, his most glorious production ever.”
    The actors applauded.
    Grimes’s eyes remained glued to the big book. He flipped forward a page.
    “While our esteemed director studies his production notes,” said Hakeem, “let us all read the script out loud.”
    Grimes slammed the book, sending up a puffy cloud of dust. Derek Stone sneezed.
    “Finished!” said Grimes.
    “Excellent,” said Hakeem. “We are about to read out loud from the script.”
    “Read?” said Grimes. He glared at the cast. “Haven’t you people memorized your parts?”
    Now Zack heard Derek wheeze.
    Grimes turned toward the adult actor who would be playing the children’s father. “Mr. Woodman?”
    “Well, uh, my agent just sent me the script. Last week. Friday, actually.”
    “And?” inquired Grimes, his left eyebrow arching up nearly to the tip of his pointy hairline.
    “Well, I, uh, I haven’t really had time to …”
    “To do your job?”
    The actor looked down at his lap.
    “What about you?” Grimes snarled at Judy.
    “Me?”
    “Did you fix those insipid song lyrics?”
    “Excuse me? I don’t remember you having a problem with any lyrics.”
    “Then perhaps you weren’t listening!”
    Zack was ready to whip out his iron fist, but Judy gave him the slightest head shake to let him know she was okay.
    “Where exactly do you have a problem, Mr. Grimes?” Judy asked calmly.
    He fumbled through his script. “Here. This song. The one Claire sings. Bah! These lyrics need work.”
    “What kind of work?” asked Judy, refusing to let Grimes bully her, her voice