Merlin's Shakespeare: Merlin's Shakespeare, #1

By Carol Anne Douglas

How can a high school girl deal with a megalomaniac?

What would you do if Richard III manipulated your thoughts and took you places you didn't want to go?

Would that be any easier to take if you had a chance to meet Romeo and Juliet and Mercutio?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beth has magical powers, but will she learn how to use them in time? The immortal wizard Merlin transports high school actor Beth Owens to Shakespeare's London and the world of Shakespeare's characters in search of a missing play about King Arthur. Mercutio guides her and flirts with her, but Richard III threatens her sanity, her friends' lives, and the integrity of Shakespeare's plays.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hermione Books
• Release date: Nov 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781732789920

Carol Anne Douglas

CAROL ANNE DOUGLAS has loved Shakespeare since she was introduced to A Midsummer Night's Dream when she was a child. She identifies with the character Nick Bottom because she wants to play every part, which only a writer can do. She has written the novels Lancelot: Her Story and Lancelot and Guinevere. She is an avid reader of Arthurian and Shakespearean lore and writes plays as well as fiction. She was born in a suburb of New York, grew up in Los Angeles, and lives in Washington, D.C. When she isn't reading or writing, she spends as much time as she can in the national parks hiking and observing wildlife. Visit her website: www.CarolAnneDouglas.com Follow on Twitter: @CarolAnneDougl1

Book preview

Chapter 1

chapter

IWANT TO TRANSFORM THIS forest. Squirrels’ tails should become ferns, and ferns should sing like bluebirds. Sparrows should chase hawks, and hawks should flee from them.

I am Puck. I will make these people believe they are blinded by deep fog though the summer sun shines bright.

Beth Owens put herself in the mood for playing Puck at Not Your Mama’s Ingenue Summer Theater Camp. She had had her hair cut for the part. She looked at her friends, the other high school actors she didn’t know, and her drama teacher, Portia Desdemona Capulet, and thought What fools these mortals be. They probably weren’t thinking Puck-like thoughts.

Beth smelled the pines that surrounded the outdoor Maryland camp and told herself it was the scent of pines in ancient Greece, as Shakespeare had imagined it. The camp was just a large clearing a mile off the highway with a couple of trailers.

Puck should be in control. But voices in her head kept screaming lines from Shakespeare’s plays. It is an honor I had not dreamed of. Juliet yelled the line, though it was supposed to sound demure. Once again into the breach. Double, double toil and trouble.

The worst noise resounded in Beth’s head. The laugh of the king who haunted her dreams. A hideous laugh.

Her head ached. Was acting worth so much pain?

She would have used her ear-buds and played rap to drown out the laugh and the voices if she had been at home, but she couldn’t do that at the first rehearsal.

Maybe she had schizophrenia. Better take a psych class next year.

She hoped that nothing weird would happen like the time when she played Juliet in middle school. She tried to dismiss the memory.

She struggled to ignore the sounds in her head, so she could hear what her friends Sita Desai, Arnie Silver, and Kevin Connelly were saying. Arnie and Kevin were not exciting as boys because she had known them since first grade. Beth had first met Sita in high school, and they had soon become best friends.

Too bad I’m supposed to be in love with Kevin in this play, Sita said, grimacing at him. Sita had a perfect haircut and perfect clothes. Beth tried not to mind that Sita’s parents had more money than Beth’s mother. "He plagued you when you were Kate in Taming of the Shrew last spring, didn’t he?"

You’ve got that right. Beth frowned at Kevin. He tried to play Petruchio all the time, not just on stage. Talking subdued the voices in her head.

You adore me, my Kate. I know you do. You’re just trying to pretend that you don’t in front of the others. Kevin put his hand on his heart. Your harsh words are just a test for my love.

I liked playing the shrew. I wish I could be a shrew all the time, especially with you. Beth gave him a look of menace.

Arnie offered them cinnamon candies, which they all accepted. The sharp taste exploding in Beth’s mouth silenced the noises in her head.

Pardon Kevin. He’s still in his socially awkward phase, Arnie said.

How did you escape yours? Sita asked, with more than a trace of irony in her voice.

I look at the stars, think about the end of the world, and remember that I’m a mere speck on the surface of a speck. I contemplate my own insignificance and I act to pretend that my life has meaning, Arnie whined—a stage whine.

A little of your existential anguish goes a long way, Sita told him. Don’t overdo it.

That’s how I really feel.

Like we all don’t worry about life’s meaning? Beth gave him a pitying look.

Oh, do girls have existential anguish too?

You’d better be kidding, Beth said.

Ignore him, Beth, Sita said. He’s just the intellectual version of Kevin.

No, I’m not. I was just joking. I totally support you girls in everything, Arnie protested.

I’m going to meet some of the cast members I don’t know, Beth said, walking away from her friends.

A pretty blonde older girl dressed in torn jeans and a halter top frowned at Beth. A girl shouldn’t play Puck. The role should be played by a small boy. You’re short enough, but that’s not the same as having talent. The rude girl’s perfume almost choked Beth.

Ms. Capulet decided to give me the part, Beth said. This was a fine welcome to the camp.

I am Titania, Queen of the Fairies, the girl said, patting her hair. Be sure you don’t bump into me or get in front of me on the stage.

Tiffany Cartier can act pleasant when she wants to—which is usually when there’s a handsome male around. The speaker was a thin, light-haired guy who looked like a college student. He smiled at Beth.

That leaves you out, Adam, Tiffany said, turning away from them.

Handsome and rich, I meant, Adam amended, as soon as Tiffany was out of earshot. He shook hands, and Beth liked his touch. His hand was just rough enough to show that he did some yard work or sports, but just soft enough so she could imagine holding on to it.

He had a silly smile, but he was handsome enough to be a leading man in a play that did not take itself too seriously. I’m Adam Greenwood. I’m Ms. Capulet’s assistant, and I’m also going to play Bottom. I’ve heard every possible joke about bottoms. I’m used to being called ‘Jackass,’ but I don’t answer if people leave out the ‘Jack.’ He picked up a hammer. I have to help our production crew with some scenery. Want to join me?

You bet. Beth wanted to learn as much as she could about props and lighting.

Adam! I’ve lost my earring! wailed a curly-haired girl a few years older than Beth in a voice that sounded as tragic as if she’d lost her dog.

I see it right where it’s supposed to be, Sharon, Adam said, pointing to her right ear.

I mean the other one, silly. Sharon pouted.

Did you check the dressing trailer? he asked.

Good idea. She hurried off.

Sharon’s my girlfriend. She’ll play Helena.

Of course she will, Beth said, then felt guilty. Sharon seemed to be as good at whining and wailing as the character Helena did, but that was a premature judgment.

Hey, she’s a good kid, Adam said, but he grinned.

You both look like college students, Beth said.

Sharon just started college. I guess I’m just slow. Adam laughed. No really, I just graduated from the University of Maryland with a degree in Theater Arts. Ms. Capulet asked me to come to this camp and play Bottom. She said this summer will be truly magical.

Beth regretted that Adam had a girlfriend, even though she knew that at fifteen she was too young for him.

Ms. Capulet stood in the middle of the field and called out, Dream time! She sounded just as excited as Beth felt.

It’s time to start our first read-through of the play, said the drama teacher. With long gray hair and a tie-dye shirt, she looked like an old hippie. You’ve all taken my classes before, so I’m not going to give an introductory talk about acting in Shakespearean plays. You can sit on the ground when you aren’t in a scene, but I’d like you to stand when you are.

Beth trembled with excitement as the first read-through began. Even though she had played Puck in grade school and middle school, playing the part again gave her goosebumps. It didn’t matter that this stage was a glorified lawn.

The time came for Bottom to lose his donkey’s ears. Beth said the words, but the donkey’s ears remained.

Take off the donkey’s ears, Adam, Beth whispered.

I can’t! he cried out so loudly that the whole cast heard him. They won’t come off! They really are donkey’s ears! Oh, no! He shook his head as if he could shake off the ears.

Some of the other actors laughed and applauded him.

Tiffany grabbed the ears and tried to pull them off. This is a rotten joke, she complained.

Ouch! Adam exclaimed, pushing her hand away. The darned things are real. His voice sounded like he was almost in tears. What’s happening to me?

It’s not a joke! Tiffany gasped. They won’t come off! They’re real ears! I see wax in them!

The girls playing Moth and Mustardseed screamed.

Tiffany’s not that good at acting. It has to be true, the actor who played Oberon said. What’s going on here?

Beth could smell that some animal was present. It must be a donkey, or part of one.

Most of the cast members backed away from Adam.

Beth fought back tears. Had she harmed this nice guy?

Be calm, Ms. Capulet ordered. Everyone be calm.

Somebody help me, Adam pleaded, rubbing his ears as if he could change them. Please help me. His voice shook. This is too crazy.

Tiffany pointed at Beth. It’s your fault. You changed his ears. You’re a witch, not an actor.

Um, not as far as I know. Beth trembled. She wanted to run away and hide. Ears, be healed. Return to normal, she commanded, just in case she did have magical powers, because she hadn’t intended to give Adam donkey’s ears. She liked him—which was more than she could say for Tiffany. Beth rubbed his ears in case that would help. They felt furry, and they didn’t change.

Adam groaned. I’m supposed to play Romeo next month. How can I play Romeo with donkey’s ears! Hee haw. Oh no, I didn’t mean to say that! Hee haw! Help! His voice broke.

Adam’s braying was so loud that it hurt Beth’s ears. She wanted to back off, but that seemed mean.

You’ll have to play Bottom for the rest of your life, Tiffany said, looking at him as if he smelled like a donkey’s turds. And Beth will always have to play Puck—but only with you, because no one else will want to act with her.

You should have donkey’s ears, too! Beth exclaimed, and Tiffany’s head sprouted donkey’s ears.

Tiffany shrieked. You monster! Give me back my normal ears this minute, or I’ll sue you. Hee haw. I hate you.

Beth couldn’t help laughing. She felt sorry for Adam, but not for Tiffany. Then she choked on her laughter. What had she done? How did she do that?

Everyone stared at Beth.

You deliberately did that to Tiffany! The girl who played Moth pointed at Beth. Tiffany was right. You are a wicked witch.

Beth must have bad karma, Oberon said. Seriously bad karma.

There’s nothing the matter with Beth’s karma, Sita said, moving closer to Beth.

She’s a freak, a rotten freak, Tiffany cried. Hee haw.

Adam’s the freak, not Beth, Kevin said, glaring at Tiffany.

No one is a freak. We’re all too much into the play, Arnie said. He also moved nearer to Beth.

Sharon hurried onto the stage. I’ve heard you have real donkey’s ears, Adam, she cried. Tell me it isn’t true!

It’s true. Adam tried to suppress a hee haw, but it came out anyway. He slumped on the ground and covered his eyes.

Sharon broke out in loud sobs. I have to break up with you! I can’t be seen with a guy who has donkey’s ears! Woe is me! What will become of me?

You ought to ask what will become of Adam, Beth reproached her. If Sharon thought only of herself, she wasn’t good enough for him.

Tiffany glared at Beth. You should never be allowed on a stage again. Hee haw. You should be arrested. Hee haw. Call the police, somebody.

Do you want your picture with donkey’s ears in the newspaper or on local television? asked Ms. Capulet, the only calm person on the lawn. No one is phoning anyone. We’ll solve this problem ourselves.

Beth began to worry about herself as well as about Adam. Everyone was staring at her, and not in a friendly way. She had never felt such a barrage of anger. She would become a pariah.

I didn’t really mean it. Beth choked. She began to shake. I don’t want to hurt anyone.

It’s all right, Beth, Taking his hands from his eyes, Adam reassured her. I know you—hee haw—didn’t intend to give me real donkey’s ears.

Beth groaned. It wasn’t all right. Somehow she had the power to give people donkey’s ears, but not to change them back to normal. She longed to run away, but where could she run? She couldn’t hold back tears much longer.

She walked towards the dressing trailer to escape the others’ attention.

A man with a long white beard strode out of the woods. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt that seemed hot for the day. He frowned at her. Listen to me, he said. I can help you. Just say the magic words, and Adam’s ears will return to normal, and so will Tiffany’s.

What words? Beth asked, trying to hear his words over Tiffany’s screeching and braying. She had never seen him before, but he at least knew the names of the other actors.

Shakespeare midsummer wild thyme hedgehogs Thisbe, the old man told Beth, his tone suggesting that the words were obvious.

Shakespeare midsummer wild thyme hedgehogs Thisbe, Beth repeated, with much fervor in her voice.

Adam’s donkey’s ears vanished, replaced by his real ears, and so did Tiffany’s.

Thank you, Beth, thank you. Adam shook her hand.

It was about time, Tiffany snapped, still looking far less sweet than the Queen of the Fairies was supposed to look. She stalked off to the dressing trailer.

Adam’s quite an actor, isn’t he? Ms. Capulet said. He almost had us all believing that he really had donkey’s ears.

Beth felt that Ms. Capulet knew the truth.

Ready for Broadway, aren’t I? Adam winked and made a fake-sounding Hee-haw.

But all the actors still eyed Beth warily as if she were carrying a hand grenade.

Say the spell backwards, the old man said. No one else seemed to notice him. That will make them forget it ever happened. Say Thisbe hedgehogs wild thyme midsummer Shakespeare."

Thisbe hedgehogs wild thyme midsummer Shakespeare, Beth said.

People stopped looking at her. They all started talking to their neighbors instead.

Beth sighed with relief.

Why are you just standing there? Ms. Capulet addressed the whole cast. Get on with the play.

Beth turned to thank the old man, but he wasn’t there.

Nobody mentioned the donkey incident after that, so everyone must have forgotten, Beth thought. But the smell of donkey lingered in the air.

As soon as she could, Beth walked into the woods to be alone for a moment. Her fears had come true. It was like the time when she had played Juliet in middle school and passed out when she drank the colored water that represented Juliet’s potion. The other cast members had to shake her to wake her up, and they thought she had been pretending. She couldn’t tell them that she hadn’t been.

She decided that she wouldn’t mention the old man to anyone. She never saw him at any other rehearsals.

No one else knew what had happened. What fools these mortals be, she thought. Herself included.

break

BETH’S MOTHER CAME TO the final performance. She hadn’t been able to get to the others because she had to go to faculty meetings.

Beth felt so happy driving there with her mother. She didn’t want to kiss her mother in front of the other kids, but even that would be okay. She was proud of her mother’s good looks and her short brown hair, which stayed in place so much better than Beth’s did. She was proud that her mother taught in a college. And that she managed being a single mom, which everyone said was difficult.

Her mother’s clothes came from thrift stores, but she bought all new clothes for Beth.

After the performance, Beth’s mother came up and hugged her. Honey, you were a wonderful Puck. I’m so proud of you. She handed Beth a ziplocked baggie. I made some chocolate chip cookies because I thought you’d be hungry afterwards.

Thanks, Mom. Beth grabbed the bag of chocolate chip cookies and crammed one into her mouth. It’s great to have something to eat before the cast party. I’m ravenous. The chocolate revived her.

Don’t stay out too late.

Don’t worry. Ms. Capulet is driving me home. She kissed her mother good-bye.

Then Beth went over to Ms. Capulet. Many people were congratulating the drama teacher, so Beth had to stand in line. That wasn’t so unpleasant, because lots of people came over to Beth and praised her performance. She didn’t have any problems with getting praise.

break

THAT NIGHT, BETH DREAMED she was in a magical sunlit forest. She knew it was magical because all the trees had deep green leaves that shone like silk and every branch was covered with bright-colored singing birds. The songs were beautiful—and they had words. The birds were singing Greensleeves. Beth gasped in wonder. The woods were fragrant with the finest perfume she had ever smelled. Like fir trees and rose petals and chocolate and something else indefinable.

The light sparkled on every leaf and blade of grass as if they were covered with dew, but nothing felt damp to her touch.

This land was much more vivid than any dream she had ever had. She touched the leaves, and they felt more real than anything in her dreams. She rubbed the trunk of a fir tree and resin stuck to her hands.

Behind the trees, she saw a group of men in rough brown clothes.

Peter Quince, let me play the king. I can be a noble king, so noble that everyone will bow to me, said a snub-nosed man with brown hair that stood up in a cowlick. They might think I am the true king, and bow to me, but I will tell them that I am Bottom, the weaver, so they will not anger the true king.

You can’t play the king, a bearded man told him. You are playing his nephew.

Let me play the dead king’s ghost, the first man pleaded. OOOO, he cried, in what he must have thought was a ghost-like sound. I will be such a frightening ghost that the audience will tremble in their seats. But I will tell them not to hide, because I am only Bottom, the weaver.

You cannot play the ghost.

Then let me play the mad girl. He tore his hair and strewed imaginary flowers on the forest floor. I will be so sad that everyone will weep for me. But I will tell them to stop weeping, because I am only…

You cannot play the mad girl. You are playing her sweetheart. It is the biggest part of all. You must be content.

Bottom was so gentle, so eager. And like him, Beth wanted to play every part. But she couldn’t imagine Bottom as Hamlet. She would have liked to see that.

The players walked off among the trees, and Beth began to follow them. She was thrilled to see the mechanicals, the working men who delightfully mixed up their plays.

A slender blond man with a beard appeared from behind a tree. He seemed to float rather than walk. A crown was on his head, and a purple cloak hung on his back. Royal purple wings were discreetly folded over the cloak.

Puck! Where have you been? the man demanded, as if she were his servant.

Beth looked around. She was the only other person in the forest glade, and she was wearing her Puck costume. The king was addressing her. In this world, she was Puck. And that meant she was King Oberon’s servant.

King Oberon, she said tentatively.

Call me ‘master.’ I have an errand for you.

What kind of errand? Beth asked. She did not add master.

Oberon frowned. Are you rebellious today?

Puck is Puck, always changing, Beth told him.

You know that if you defy me, you will be beaten, or encased in a hollow tree. Oberon glared at her. His crown shone as if it were electric.

Beth shivered. She looked around for a place to hide, but where could she hide from a fairy king?

This is not your slave Puck, said a sweet voice that sounded like chiming bells. The speaker was a fairy with rainbow-colored wings and golden hair—not blonde, but more like real gold. Her skin was a rich black, much darker than most blondes’. She also wore a crown that appeared to be of real gold. She looked at Beth as if Beth mattered to her.

Queen Titania, Beth said reverently, bowing her head. She was glad not to be Puck if Oberon was obnoxious.

Why do you bow to her, but not to me? Oberon demanded.

This is a being from another world, a being you cannot injure, Titania told him.

I could cast a spell that would befuddle you, Oberon warned Beth.

But you will not. You never wanted to cloud the minds of mortals, but only mine, Titania reminded him.

A mortal should not dress like Puck. Why try to deceive me? We can deceive mortals, but mortals cannot deceive the fair folk, Oberon grumbled.

I didn’t mean to deceive you. We mortals like to play-act, and pretend that we are fair folk, because you are so appealing, Beth said.

Anyone would rather be fair than mortal. Placated, Oberon spoke in a milder tone. Go and confuse other mortals, he said, stalking off into the trees. He did not just walk among the trees, but dissolved into them.

Titania sighed. I once dreamed of a mortal dressed as an ass. He was foolish, but he seemed kinder than Oberon. If you, too, are mortal, do you know him?

I know of him, Queen Titania. His name is Bottom. He is not one of your fair folk, but he is not a mortal either, Beth told her.

There is more in heaven and earth than I can dream of, the queen said.

Am I just dreaming, or is this world real? Beth asked.

If this is a dream, it is not only yours, Titania said.

There is more than any of us can dream of, Beth said, looking around her at the enchanted forest. But perhaps not, because Shakespeare dreamed it.

Shakespeare? I like that name. Titania smiled. If we are part of a dream, will we wake? Or, if we are not the dreamer, what will happen to us if the dreamer wakes?

You are part of so many dreamers’ dreams that you will go on and on, Beth said.

Beth didn’t want Titania to leave, but the fairy queen disappeared. Beth walked off through an oak grove and saw Oberon’s shadow beside the shadow of another crowned man.

You are learning the uses of power, good King Oberon, but you must be harsher, the other man told him. It is better to be feared than to be loved.

At the sound of his voice, Beth’s stomach heaved.

The Fair Folk do not want to be either loved or feared, Oberon replied. We are different. Why should I listen to a mortal?

Ah, but I am not a mortal. I am a king, an eternal king like you, but with an even grander kingdom.

No kingdom is grander. Oberon’s shadow moved away.

Not grander, indeed, but larger. You lack a vision to expand. If power does not expand, it dissipates. Expand your kingdom, your highness. The shadow hand reached towards Oberon. As my ally.

Beth shuddered. Her hand moved to her mouth to keep her from exclaiming.

What do I want with your alliance? Or your kingdoms? I could put you and all your subjects to sleep with the touch of a magic flower. Oberon chuckled.

Ah, what an enviable power. The other voice soared, but it made Beth’s stomach lurch. Her head began to ache. To be able to put your enemies to sleep. And then to conquer all. A power beyond the power of gold.

Beyond the power of your gold. Be gone. I have elves to see, nectar to drink.

The shadows of Oberon and the other king vanished.

Beth wondered who the other king was, but she didn’t want to meet him.

She heard the hyena laugh and woke up.

It wasn’t morning yet. She didn’t hear the laugh any longer. She had loved the first part of her dream, but the second part gave her shivers. Her clothes were slightly damp, as if she had walked outdoors in the dew. The dream must have made her sweat. There was resin on her fingers.

A voice in her head yelled To be or not to be, but she said, Shakespeare midsummer wild thyme hedgehogs Thisbe, and that silenced the voice. She hoped the incantation would always work.

Chapter 2

chapter

WHEN BETH RETURNED TO James Dean High School in late August, the humidity was so bad that she started sweating even before she got to school in the morning. She wished that her school, like some she knew, didn’t begin until September.

She had many classes that first day. Drama was not one of them. But when she saw Ms. Capulet in the hall, Beth hurried over, hoping to be noticed.

The drama teacher smiled. Please come to my office during study hall. You can get a hall pass for that. I want to talk with you.

Beth could hardly wait. As soon as the bell rang for study hall, she hurried to Ms. Capulet’s office, which was small and untidy, with scripts and student papers strewn around and photos of old movie stars on the walls. The largest poster was of James Dean in Giant, but there was more than one of Katharine Hepburn. Beth would have liked to see posters of living actresses like Jennifer Lawrence.

Ms. Capulet gestured for Beth to sit down in the chair on the other side of her desk.

Beth asked a question she had wanted to ask all year.

How did you choose your name, Ms. Capulet? Ms. Capulet’s full name was Portia Desdemona Capulet. Beth didn’t think it worthwhile to ask whether the name was her teacher’s given name. Of course it wasn’t.

I changed my name to Portia Desdemona Capulet because I thought the name my parents gave me was too conspicuous for a woman with a theatrical career, she said.

Beth wondered what name could possibly be more conspicuous.

My given name was Katharine Hepburn, Ms. Capulet continued. I got tired of people telling me, ‘You don’t look like Katharine Hepburn.’

It was true that Ms. Capulet didn’t look like the legendary star, whom Beth had seen in the old movies her mother liked to watch. The drama teacher was plump, with a square face, wire-rimmed eyeglasses, and gray hair that always hung down her back. Her tie-dyed clothes weren’t even retro—they looked like they were the same clothes she had worn when she was young.

Worse, they named my poor sister Audrey, Ms. Capulet complained. And she’s always been heavier than I am. I wish parents would be more considerate when they name their children.

Beth had seen Audrey Hepburn in old movies like Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Charade, so she knew that the actress was extra thin. Beth downloaded lots of movies to study the actresses’ performances, especially movies of Shakespeare’s plays, because that was cheaper than going to a theater. She thought learning Shakespeare would be the best way to become a serious actress, not one who had to play stupid parts or take off her clothes.

I can see why you’d choose Portia, but why Desdemona? Beth asked. Why choose the name of a character who was murdered?

Her teacher frowned. I chose the names of one woman who was powerful and successful, one who was murdered, and one—Juliet—who asserted herself secretly and took her own life. That covers all the possibilities, doesn’t it? Or maybe I chose the name because I liked the sound of all those syllables. Or maybe it’s a joke.

OK. Beth figured that Ms. Capulet was really saying that she was keeping her reasons to herself. She hoped that she hadn’t displeased her drama teacher. I didn’t mean to pry.

There’s nothing the matter with a little curiosity. You have an active mind. I think it’s time for you to try directing a play instead of acting.

Beth almost jumped. You really believe I’m ready for that? It sounds great, but I think I prefer acting.

"You’ll have many other chances to act. Now I want you to direct Macbeth, Ms. Capulet said. We’ll use an altered version that’s appropriate for high school students."

Thank you. That’s so exciting. Can I audition for a part as well as directing?

No, not in this play. The drama teacher paled.

I didn’t think you’d let me play Lady Macbeth, but couldn’t I play one of the witches? Beth thought it would be fun to be creepy.

No. Ms. Capulet’s voice sounded unnecessarily harsh. You can never play a part in that play. Do you understand? Never. I can’t predict what would happen. We might have real eye of newt—and other, more terrible things—in the cauldron. And who knows what would come of the witches’ predictions?

You’re kidding. Beth shivered at Ms. Capulet’s tone, which sounded as scary as the witches’. "I