April 13, 1996

A lean, curly-haired youth shifting within a bulky varsity jacket, with AH patches on its sleeves and back, stepped inside the school auditorium. The smoky maroon runway carpet, the peeling yellow paint on the backs of the auditorium seats, the dimly lit stage with a pale Elizabethan cityscape for a backdrop, were all ominous signs of a dying theatre. Still, for a high school auditorium the place had a prescient ambience.

A middle-aged woman seated on the first row spoke through a megaphone at the four actors on stage.

"Come on kids, I know this is late in the day but give me some enthusiasm, huh. Let’s do it one more time. Hon, yes you, try not to droop your shoulders so much. You are a soldier, stand like one."

"Like he really knows what a soldier would stand like." Offered the kid with the varsity jacket as he sat himself couple of seats away from the woman in the first row.

"Benny, well, thanks for your expert comments, hon. Did you develop a sudden interest in Shakespeare, I thought you called him an anti-semite."

"I still think he’s an anti-semite. I’m offended as a human and as a Jew in particular. Couldn’t you have picked a historic play? Or a floozy like Midsummer Night’s Dream?"

"Floozy, huh? Well, we have some mighty big opinions, don’t we? What are you doing here, anyway?"

"My girlfriend is in your stupid play. I came to talk her out of it." Benny, in a no- nonsense tone.

"Portia, hon, try not to turn your head abruptly towards the audience. They are there, they won’t go anywhere, look at Bassanio when you speak to him."

"Stop calling me Bassanio. Silvio, my name is Silvio, get it." A tall kid screamed from the stage. His head full of black hair slicked back in straight strands, an unusually long face, sculpted cheekbones, Silvio looked larger than life compared to the rest on stage.

"I know your name sweety, I just want you to stay in character. You should eat, drink, and . . ."

"I know my part. Just call me Silvio." He pointed his left index finger down to the woman.

"Shit. Okay, okay. That’s it for today. I’ll see you kids tomorrow." The woman with the megaphone walked away from the auditorium in deliberate steps.

A blonde girl jumped off the stage at the sight of Benny and came running to him. Her willowy hair clung to her round face like two scaly hands. Her eyes looked excited and wild.

"I didn’t know you were coming."

"I had to come and see how bad it was." Benny said casually as he slid her hair away to fully reveal her face.

"I was that bad?"

"No, Carol, not you. You were the best thing up there. Cecil B. Demille here should have at least given you Portia’s part. Jessica is a poor excuse of a role. The reason she gave you the role is because you’re Jewish. This whole thing . . ."

"Stop it okay. I told you this is my last fling with theatre. Why can’t you let me enjoy my last semester? Before we know it we’ll both be in Yale slumming through fat textbooks. I’m just shoring up on any little excitement I can find in Aliento. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you in a stupid lab, what’s the big . . ."

"Fine." Benny walked out of the auditorium, kicking the corner trashcan to a loud effect on his way out.

"Wait. Benny, I didn’t mean. . .what I meant was. . .Arrrgh." Carol flung her arms in hopeless frustration watching Benny disappear into a dot.

"What did you mean then?" Silvio grinned playfully. He had changed into black jeans and revealed a white tank top beneath his thin black bomber jacket. He towered over Carol by nearly a foot. He swung a light duffel bag like taking a golf swing.

"Nothing Silvio, nothing at all."

"You know, your boyfriend is right. You should be playing Portia. You say your lines much better and you only got a few. Becky as Portia, forget it, she won’t even rehearse with me, she like them sitcom kids, rolling her eyes all the time and shit."

"Thanks, Silvio. I would love to rehearse with you."

"Deal. Come here an hour before the rest and we’ll do some lines tomorrow. Where are you headed now?"

"Benny and I usually go to Battersea after rehearsal, now, I guess I’ll just pick something up at Mama Ellerbee’s and head home."

"Mama Elle? No way. She's my girl. I eat there all the time."

"Yeah, I've seen you and your friends there. Well, gotta go."

"Wait, Jessica. Would you like to join Bassanio on his bike for dinner?"

"No. I better not."

"What? Your boyfriend?"

"Not just that."

"If you said, ‘no’, I would’ve let it go. But, ‘I better not’ sounds like you are telling yourself to behave."

"Okay. No. I say no."

"Too late for that. We're past that now." Silvio grinned his widest.

"Silvio, not to blow your ego or anything. Your charm is all that, but I don’t have the energy to handle a scandal right now, okay. See you later."

"That’s cold. Man, that’s cold." Silvio dropped his bag and waved his hands in disbelief.

Carol walked along the school corridor heading towards Teresa Avenue. Her smoke-gray pleated skirt billowed to her spirited walk. Her head focusing on her steps, her folded hands, all suggested a mind battling a tough resolution. Silvio unlocked his bike from the lamppost behind the auditorium and caught up with Carol.

"Yo, Carol, wait up."

"You’re making a scene, Silvio." Carol walked faster.

While Carol waited to cross the street, a ravaged truck spun around the corner leaving skid marks near the crosswalk. Seven or eight teenagers, dressed in varying shades of black baseball jackets and jeans began banging the vehicle’s body in a stadium chant,

"Silvio, Silvio, Silvio . . ."

Half thrilled, half embarassed, Silvio took a mock bow to the guys in the truck.

"You dawg, after some Grace booty?" Yelled one.

"Give her the spear yet?" Wondered another.

"Nah, Graceland bitches make you wait a whole year between the bases."

"Val should know." They turn towards one of their own in the truck.

Carol had crossed the street and walked on the sidewalk next to AH’s playground.

From the truck pulling away in the other direction, someone yelled,

"Be at the tower by eleven."

"Later, yo." Silvio peddled his bike standing up.

"Carol, come on wait up. We was talking fine and you just up and leave. Wassup with that?" Silvio sounded annoyed.

"Why didn’t you get on the truck with the other monkeys?"

"Those are my boys you’re talking about. And I think you really meant to say grease monkeys."

Silvio turned his bike around and headed towards the school.

April 14, 1996

"Bassanio, uhm, Silvio, I’m feeling the passion when you speak to Portia. You are really getting the hang of this character, Bravo. Okay, kids, let’s break for 10 minutes and we’ll pick it up with ACT III Scene ii."

Bolting out of the auditorium, Silvio brought a harmonica out of his back pocket and started playing. He sat stretching his legs and leaning on the trunk of a weepy willow facing west. The sun had begun its descend behind the Harvest hills.

Carol hesitantly walked up to the tree and leaned on it. Silvio continued playing a drawling tune without a sign of having noticed Carol.

"I waited for you, Silvio. For an hour. I thought we were going to rehearse." A very meek Carol.

Silvio picked up the tempo of his tune.

"Are you playing, ‘Dust in the wind?’"

"It’s a sea-shanty. You know, like ‘Louie, Louie’." Silvio offered in a clinical tone.

"I know what a sea-shanty is."

"A Shakespeare chick like you? Didn’t think you listened to everyman songs." Silvio put some bite into his words.

"You know, in the Japanese culture, the person apologizing is allowed to save face."

"Then you better go apologize to a Jap."

"You’re so damn proud. I hate your guts. Come on, I’m sorry, okay. I’m under a lot of stress."

"Oh, that’s a good excuse to call me a grease monkey."

"Okay, Silvio. You don’t want to accept it, I’ll leave my apology at your door."

Carol dropped something by the foot of the tree--a rectangular package gift-wrapped in silver paper. Silvio sat up and picked up the package.

"What the hell is this?"

"It’s for you. I really mean what I wrote there."

Carol slowly headed towards the auditorium.

Silvio opened the package; a concise book titled, "Ten Great Scenes for the aspiring actor." As he opened the book, Silvio found a passage written in long slanting script.

"Yo, wait up." Silvio strode towards Carol. Carol stood by the auditorium door.

"Read it to me."

"Why?"

"Read what you wrote me. Then I'll know if you're sincere." Silvio’s voice was soft enough to crack. Carol opened the book.

"You have been the best thing about this play. When I’m done rehearsing, I stand around and watch you do your scenes. You have a true gift for acting, please don’t abandon it. I hope this book stokes your appetite for acting." She raised her face and looked at Silvio.

"You really mean that? Thanks. You know why I signed up for this play? You. Because of you."

"No way."

"Yeah, that’s right. Remember the Sociology class? I used to skip that class a lot. Until that one day there was this heavy discussion, you started defending abortion in class. It’s a tired subject and I really don’t give a rat’s ass, but you were unbelievable, in this class full of bible thumpers, these cornfeds who were ready to crucify you, and you were great. You just cut ‘em up, all their arguments were like falling off you, you didn’t budge. I was sitting there thinking how nice it must be to listen to you all the time. So calm, so clear, so sure of yourself in everything you say. And then I realized why your boyfriend Benny was so proud and shit. Him and his scrawny fuck of a friend, what’s his name?. . ."

"Schenkman."

"Yeah, him. Those two sit behind me in Physics. Everytime I try to say something in class, both those fuckers are snickering and mumbling. I know they’re laughing at what I’m saying, but I used to think what the hell makes this guy think he’s God. And then you would show up in the hall to join him. . . and I . . .anyway, when I saw you signed up for the play, I did too."

"I’m sorry they laughed at you, they don’t know anything about you."

"I know that. Not many know Silvio. You know, when I took off yesterday after you called my friends monkeys, I was so mad I could have killed somebody. I mean I would have tore up someone’s face for saying that about my friends, but there I was peddling away from you. All the time I was thinking maybe something really stressful was happening with you, that you were in this terrible situation that you can’t get out of and I came and bothered you and that’s why you were mad. . .and on and on. I couldn’t shut up this voice. It kept coming up with excuses for why you said what you did. It was confusing. Why did you say that about my friends, is that what you think of me too?"

"I think I was confused too. I was angry at myself because. . .to be honest, I wanted to go with you on your bike. I've been with Benny for two years. We been through so much together, but I forgot about all that wishing to saddle up on your bike. Benny and I have problems, okay? But I thought my loyalty was better than it showed yesterday. I was upset with myself, being so insincere and I put it all on you when you kept after me."

"So what does all this mean then?" Silvio looked as confused as he sounded.

"I think I’m, think I’m. . ." Carol's hands motioned as if they were trying to ease out her words.

The red door to the auditorium creaked open as the director's voice boomed.

"Silvio, well, there you are you dickens. Don't have all day kids, let's roll."

Carol and Silvio quietly went back to the play.