The Juliet Club (18 page)

Entr'acte

“Those boots will look perfect with my black coat,” Sarah said dreamily.

She rolled over on her stomach and hung her head over the edge of her bed, the better to see Annie, who was stretched out on the floor and sulkily rereading the latest e-mail. “You know, the long black coat with the faux fur collar?” She smiled sweetly at Annie, then flopped on her back again.

Act III
Scene IV

“I'm just saying Paris seemed like a nice guy,” Tom said the next day as he casually kicked his soccer ball from one foot to the other.

“Yes, he was,” Benno said, as mournful as if they were discussing the fate of a close friend. “And you know what happens to nice guys. They finish last. Or, in this case, dead.”

Tom persisted. “So why didn't Juliet want him?”

“Because he was not Romeo,” Silvia said with finality.

The morning's rehearsal had ended. They had eaten a picnic lunch in the garden and were enjoying a well-deserved rest while Dan rehearsed with the other Shakespeare Scholars. Lucy was sitting in the shade, while Silvia and Benno were lying in the sun. Tom, who didn't want to sit on the ground and risk getting dirt on his new shorts, started bouncing the ball off his head. Kate had carefully selected a spot that was close, but not too close, to where Giacomo was leaning against a tree trunk. She gazed down with satisfaction at the new cotton dress she was wearing, which Lucy had helped her pick out the day before. It was simple, yet flattering, the exact pale apricot shade of the flowers that bloomed under her window. . . .

Kate glanced up to see Giacomo smiling at her, and looked away, blushing.

“I agree with Kate,” Tom said. “Romeo was an idiot.”

“What?” Kate asked, trying to remember what they were talking about. “When did I say that?”

“The first day we met,” Tom reminded her. “You were saying that Romeo and Juliet took everything too fast, they didn't stop and think things through.”

Silvia sniffed with disdain.

“You said,” Tom finished, “that they were impulsive in the worst way, because all they thought about was themselves.”

Giacomo grinned at Kate. “That is so like you,” he said. “Because Romeo and Juliet are not practical, they must be idiots.”

“Well, you know what I meant,” Kate said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “When you really read the play closely—okay, the poetry is amazing, I admit that, but when you look at the
plot,
the whole thing is ridiculous! In fact—”

“Please!” Benno groaned and put his arm over his eyes. “We're not in class now!”

“Yes, can't we stop talking about
Romeo and Juliet
for a few minutes?” Lucy begged.

“I thought it was your favorite play in the world,” Kate teased her.

“It still is. Except when I'm falling asleep, like right now.”

“No, no, you can't fall asleep.” Giacomo reached over with a stalk of grass to tickle her nose. Lucy giggled. “The day is too beautiful to sleep through.”

“It's also too hot to sleep through,” Silvia said crankily. Then she glanced from Giacomo to Kate and added more sweetly, “Tell me, Kate, have you explored the villa's gardens?”

“A little bit,” Kate said. “Lucy and I walked to the grape arbor when we first got here.”

And she and Giacomo had whiled away a few afternoons on a bench hidden behind a riot of rosebushes, but she wasn't going to mention that. Especially since it was one of the times they had slipped away from their watchers.

“Oh, but there are acres and acres to explore! Giacomo, I don't think you've been fulfilling your duty as a host!” Silvia said, mock-chiding. “Your guests haven't seen the Greek temple, or the secret grotto. I would wager they haven't even tried their luck in the maze.”

“Oh, right, I read about that when we first got here,” Kate said.

“And you didn't try to find it?” Silvia gave her a sly look. “It's called the Lover's Maze, you know.”

“It is?” Lucy was suddenly more alert. “Why?”

“Oh, yes.” Giacomo leaned back against the tree, settling in to tell a story. “That was the reason my mother bought the villa. Not just the maze, the whole garden, really. The house itself—” He shrugged. “Seventeenth century, not very important or distinguished. But acres of land that have been cultivated for three hundred years—that is what she set her heart on.”

“Yes, but the
maze,
” Lucy insisted.

“It's very old, the oldest part of the garden—”

“Don't tell me,” Kate said. “There's a legend.”

“But of course!” he said, and Lucy sighed happily. “It's a complicated maze with two entrances. The legend says that if two people enter the maze, each at a different place, and manage to find each other at the center, they are destined to be together.”

“That's beautiful!” Lucy said.

“But extremely difficult,” he warned. “There are all kinds of cul-de-sacs and paths that double back on themselves. There are even enclosed areas with a tree and a bench that make you think you've reached the center, but you haven't. My mother commissioned marble statues of Shakespeare's characters and put them in the false centers. You see Rosalind standing there or Puck or good old Henry V and then you know the maze has defeated you again.”

“And how do you know you've reached the center?” Kate asked.

“You see Shakespeare's statue, of course,” Giacomo said. “Because in the end, all paths lead to the playwright.”

Kate entered the maze with confidence. This was simple, really. She had read about it. To get to the center of a maze, or to get out of one, you place one hand on the leafy wall and then walk, always keeping your hand in place. You might walk into a dead end, but you would walk right back out, as long as you didn't take your hand off the hedge.

So she rested the fingers of her right hand on the wall and started down the path, humming to herself.

One turn to the right. One to the left. Another to the left, and then again to the right . . .

In the distance, she could hear the others laughing and calling out to each other in mock dismay as they got more and more lost. She had hung back, wanting to go last so that she could walk the labyrinthine paths alone with her thoughts.

To the right, to the left, to the left . . .

The voices sounded much farther off now. Well, the maze was quite large, and they could certainly move through it more quickly than she could, given her methodical approach. That was all right, she'd get to the center before any of them, and she wouldn't have wasted time getting lost, either.

Another two turns. It was so quiet now that she was aware of the sound of her footsteps, scrunching along the gravel path, and the faint rustle of a lizard slipping through the leaves. The world had shrunk to a hallway of green under a bright blue bowl of sky filled with sunlight. Kate almost felt that she was dreaming as she walked through the shimmering hot afternoon, always with her hand brushing the hedge beside her, keeping her on course.

Another turn to the left and then to the right, and now she was in an enclosed space, and Portia was smiling down at her from a pedestal, shining cool and white under the spreading branches of an olive tree.

“Kate.” Giacomo sounded as if he was right behind her.

She whirled around but saw nothing but green leaves hemming her in.

“Where are you?” she said.

Nothing but silence. Then the breeze shifted and, in the distances, she could hear Tom say, “I know I saw this tree before! This is the third time, at least!” Benno was laughing, and Lucy was saying, “Lord, I'm just so turned around, I don't know where in the world I am!” Then their voices faded away again.

“Giacomo!” Kate's voice sounded sharper than she meant it to.

“Yes, I'm right here.” Now his voice sounded as if it were coming from the other side of the statue. Kate started in that direction, then realized she'd have to go out the way she had come in and turn to the left to get to him, if, indeed, he was standing where she thought he was.

“Where's right here?” Kate turned in a circle.

“Right here is right here,” he said. “Behind this hedge.”

“Oh, that's helpful.
Which
hedge?”

There was a pause. “Well,” he said, and she could tell he was laughing, “it's tall and green.”

“Thanks, that narrows it down,” she said, smiling. “Hold on, I just need to go back the way I came, I think.”

But when she held up her right hand, she realized that she couldn't remember exactly which hedge she had been using to guide her. Idiot! she thought. You were so sure you had the trick to this puzzle that you weren't even paying attention to your surroundings.

She shut her eyes and tried to remember. She knew that when she came into the enclosure that Portia was looking down at her, with a lively, humorous expression. Excellent. So all Kate had to do—she opened her eyes. Hmm. Portia was posed so that her head was slightly turned. Had she been looking straight at Kate? Or over her shoulder?

“Kate?” Giacomo's voice sounded even farther away.

Kate hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. If she didn't do something, she'd be stuck here forever. She put her hand on the hedge closest to her and started walking.

One turn, then another, then back the other way . . .

That branch lying across the path seemed awfully familiar. Didn't she pass that before? Kate stared at it almost fearfully. Of course, there were probably other branches on other paths; there was no way to tell whether this was the same branch. And maybe she had seen it coming into the maze, which would mean that now she was headed out. Maybe.

Kate took one step forward, hesitated, then turned to go back. Unless going back was the wrong thing to do.

No. Her first instinct had been to move forward. That's what she would do.

She strode forward, around a corner, into a dead end and out again, around another turn—

And she was back in front of Portia's statue.

Kate felt a wave of panic sweep over her. Which is ridiculous, she told herself sternly. People know where you are, you won't be lost forever, someone will manage to come into the maze and find you. . . .

“Kate?” Thank goodness. Giacomo's voice sounded very close.

“I'm here!” She hated the way her voice trembled, but she was so grateful to hear him that she didn't care.

“Stay where you are,” he suggested. “I'll try to come to you.”

There was a sound of footsteps walking down a path. Kate sat down on the bench to wait, feeling more confused and lost than she had in her whole life.

Kate and Giacomo gave up on finding the center of the maze after being confronted by Portia's clever face for the third time. They hadn't heard the voices of the others for some time, so they decided to wait to be discovered.

“After all, that's the first rule about what to do if you get separated from the people you're with,” Kate said. She stood next to the statue with her hands on her hips, her face flushed from both exertion and frustration. “Stop moving and stay in one place. That's the only way others can find you.”

Giacomo nodded solemnly, but there was a glint of laughter in his eyes. “Assuming, of course, you want to be found. Well, we might as well be comfortable while we wait.” He took her hand and pulled her gently to the ground.

The tall hedges made the enclosure into a green, leafy room, with a grass carpet starred with flowers. Kate was lying on the grass next to Giacomo, acutely aware of her hand still clasped in his. She stared up at the bright blue ceiling of sky, her heart beating fast, and watched a bird wing its way swiftly through the air.

She cleared her throat. “So. Do you think the others are still trying to find their way out? Or did they leave us here?”

She could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. “You sound nervous, Kate.”

“Not at all.” The afternoon light was still dazzling. Kate closed her eyes against the brightness. “I was just wondering, that's all.”

“Relax,” Giacomo murmured. His voice was low and warm. “There is no record of anyone vanishing forever in the Lover's Maze.”

“There's always a first time,” Kate said, but she was smiling. She could feel the sun's heat pressing down on her, her muscles loosening until her body seemed ready to melt. Her heart slowed down, and she could hear the humming silence all around them.

For a time, neither of them said anything. Then Kate sighed.

“Actually, it's not so bad,” she said dreamily. “Being lost, I mean.”

“We're not lost,” he answered with some surprise.

Kate turned her head to look into Giacomo's dark eyes. “Actually,” she said, “we are.”

“Speak for yourself.” He smiled back at her. “I'm right where I want to be.”

Some time later, Giacomo sat up and said, “Shh.” He nodded toward one of the hedges. “I think they've found us.”

Kate stopped in the middle of pulling a piece of grass from her hair and sat very still. At first, she could hear nothing. Then a soft rustle, as if someone were creeping down a leaf-strewn path. And a crack, as if someone clumsily stepped on a small branch, followed by a hissed warning.

Giacomo motioned for her to move closer. “Ready? Ask me what my favorite speech is from Shakespeare,” he prompted her in a whisper.

Kate cleared her throat. “You know, Giacomo, I was wondering,” she said rather loudly. “Out of all the brilliant, poetic speeches in Shakespeare's plays, which one would you say is your absolute favorite?”

“Oh, that's easy.” Giacomo spoke clearly, so as to be heard, but he was looking into Kate's eyes as he said:

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter,

Present mirth hath present laughter:

What's to come is still unsure.

In delay there lies no plenty,

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty:

Youth's a stuff will not endure.

A little breathless, Kate said, “I don't remember what comes after that.”

“No? So now we improvise.”

Then he reached for her again.

Tom edged his way into the library, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't observed. He slipped
Henry V
back into its place on the shelf and thought about a plan he had hatched last night. It was a plan that scared him quite a bit, although Henry V would have scoffed at his fear. After all, Tom wasn't planning to raise an army, he wasn't going to war against the French.