Star Time (5 page)

G
ina sat between Mitchell and Destiny. Her purse was smushed against her knees.

She looked at the huge blue curtain in front. It looked like velvet.

The dark was like velvet, too.

Gina loved it.

The curtain was still rising slowly. Everyone began to clap.

Onstage was a big black cat.

The cat didn’t pay attention to the clapping. Instead, it held one round paw up to its whiskers.

Slowly it washed one ear.

It waved its curved tail.

It was almost as if the cat were real. It acted like Grandma Maroni’s cat.

Soon a girl came out onto the stage. She wore a long dress. It had green look-like-real diamonds on it. It had roses down the front.

It was gorgeous.

The girl was singing a little. “Tra-la.” She had flowers in her hand.

Gina leaned over. She whispered to Mitchell, “See. It’s good to have singing.”

This is a perfect play
, Gina thought.
It is about a princess and a frog
.

The cat reached out with one paw.

Would it catch the frog?

Gina took a deep breath. Poor frog.

But the cat sat back. It licked its paw.

It seemed as if the cat were smiling.

But Gina knew what would come next. The star would kiss the frog.

The frog would turn into a prince.

And that was just what happened.

The cat closed its eyes and yawned.

The curtain came down. The lights came on.

Everyone clapped for a long time.

It was time to ask Mitchell again. “Did you have time to think hard?”

“I guess Peter and I can do it alone.”

“Maybe not,” she said.

“Mrs. Farelli says I’m a good writer,” Mitchell said.

“You’re the best,” Gina said, before she had time to think.

The stars came to the front of the stage.

They all bowed.

The cat took off its mask.

Gina drew in her breath. It was Madam Ballantine.

What a surprise!

It was time to get back on the bus. They had to hurry.

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Farelli. “It’s Bus Thirteen again.”

The bus driver turned on the motor.

Nothing happened.

“I knew it,” Destiny said. “We’ll be here until midnight. We’ll be starving.”

Gina didn’t care how long it took to get home. She needed time to talk to Mitchell—

To beg Mitchell.

Besides, there was still a little purple yogurt left in her purse. She might be hungry, but she wouldn’t starve.

She followed Mitchell to the back of the bus.

She passed Charlie. “I might grow some frogs in a tank,” he was saying.

“That’s not a neat idea at all,” the bus driver said.

Sumiko was doing a handstand on the seat.

It was a good thing Mrs. Farelli didn’t see her. Mrs. Farelli’s head was stuck under the hood of the bus.

The used-to-be-famous actress came outside. She was smiling at everyone.

Too bad her hair was a mess.

Gina poked her head out a window. “You were the best cat in the world,” she said.

“That’s what acting is all about,” the actress
said. “I’m a great cat.” She gave a little hop. “I’m working on being a frog.”

Gina shook her head. “Frogs aren’t easy.”

There was a rumble from the bus.

Mrs. Farelli had fixed the problem. She jumped back on the bus.

Her auditorium-colored dress was engine-colored now.

There was a roar and some smoke.

They pulled away from the curb.

The actress waved after them.

“Whew,” said Mitchell. “I didn’t want to stay here until midnight. I’m hungry already.”

“I’ll share my yogurt,” Gina said.

She reached into her purse.

Everything inside was gooey.

It felt like Destiny’s Curls Galore gel. It wasn’t, though.

It was the rest of her yogurt.

It had dripped onto her pencil, her paper, her just-in-case dollar.

Mitchell was watching.

She pulled out his play-writing pad.

It was covered with yogurt.

Mitchell tried to wipe it off.

“I can’t read one word,” Gina said.

“Me neither,” Mitchell said. “I’ll have to start over.”

“I’m sorry,” Gina said. “I’m really—”

Mitchell rubbed his hands on his shirt. “I just changed my mind,” he said. “You can help.”

“Enchanting,” she said.

G
ina sat on the edge of the Afternoon Center stage.

It was like the one at the Star Theater. So was the soft blue curtain.

It made her think of Madam Ballantine.

She remembered the actress’s black cat costume and her round black paws.

Gina swung her legs back and forth. It was
nice to be up there alone with all those empty seats.

In a couple of days, they’d be filled.

The audience would clap. They’d yell “Olé!” For her!

Gina stopped to think.
Olé
was for bullfighting. Maybe they’d yell “Bravo!”

“Yes, that’s it,” she told herself in a star voice.

Something bumped behind the curtain. Was someone back there?

Yes. The thing was laughing. It had a weird voice. It cackled like a witch.

Maybe it
was
a witch!

But no. It was worse.

“I have come to take you to my planet,” the voice said.

Gina’s mouth went dry. She didn’t want to go to another planet. Her mother was baking ravioli for dinner. Grandma and Grandpa Maroni were coming.

Too bad Grandpa couldn’t fix the pearls. It was a good thing Grandma was bringing another set.

Gina opened her mouth. Out came a hyena cry.

“Yeow, there’s an animal out there!” the thing yelled.

It sounded a little like an alien.

Or maybe like Destiny.

The back door of the stage slammed shut.

The thing was gone.

But what about the animal?

Gina jumped off the stage. It might be a big one with curved teeth.

Maybe it had escaped from the zoo in Bridgeport.

The auditorium door banged open. Peter raced in.

Mitchell raced in behind him.

“I have paper!” Peter yelled. “I have a pen. We have to write this thing in two seconds.”

Gina took a quick look around.

No animal.

No alien.

They sat in the front row.

Peter began to write:
A ROBOT WORLD
.

“I have lots of ideas,” Gina told them.

Peter looked at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Mitchell said I could.”

Peter sighed. “You’d better have fast ideas. Madam Ballantine is coming.”

Mitchell looked sad. “I don’t even have time for snack in the lunchroom today.”

“I checked,” Gina said. “It’s leftover soup with red things.”

“Whew,” Mitchell said. “That’s the worst.”

“Listen,” she said. “Mr. Sarsaparilla could do a whole thing with drums. DUM-DA-DA-DUM.”

Peter shook his head. “We need aliens and a spaceship. Everyone is counting on that.”

“And don’t forget the crybaby alien,” said Mitchell.

Gina didn’t want to think about that. She took a breath. “We need a star, too.”

“That’s what Madam Ballantine said,” Mitchell told them.

Gina sat back. This was easier than she’d thought. “I was thinking,” she began slowly. “The star could be the princess of a planet.”

“Yes.” Peter began to write.

Gina crossed her fingers. Here came the hard part.

“There could be a robot frog,” she said. “The princess could kiss the frog.”

Mitchell looked up for a second. “This is like the play we saw.”