Fat School Confidential (8 page)

   
Teaching drama was one thing, but running a show was a whole other animal. I was nervous and unsure and needed some handholding.

   
After the last class of the day let out, the students gathered near the cafeteria for their afternoon fifty-calorie snack. Unlike the meals, which were dished out by the kitchen staff, teachers distributed snacks. We took turns doling the treats. It didn’t make sense that we were in charge of this, but as in other tasks and procedures that didn’t seem befitting a teacher, we did what was asked of us.

   
Opening up auditions to the entire school, I decided to get help judging the talent. Figuring three judges worked better than one, I handpicked two students to assist me. My star Boulderer, Elijah, suggested I put on a play from the get-go, so naturally he had to help put it together. Rounding out the panel was the one other student who had a performing arts background, Veronica.

   
My initial gut feeling was to go with staff members to judge. But I rationalized to myself: Why not give a student the power to judge? Where’s the harm in that?

   
It was thirty minutes until the first round of auditions were to begin. Elijah and Veronica joined me in the large classroom. Setting up a table and chairs for the panel, I handed them ledger pads and pens for notes.

    “
Let’s try and be positive. Think of roles they might be able to play.”

   
Elijah gave a quizzical look. “What kind of roles, Mr. Rourke?”

    “
Have you seen Little Shop?” I asked.

    “
Uh, no.”

    “
I thought you did plays back home?”

    “
Yeah, but we wrote ours,” Elijah boasted.

    “
Keepin’ it real,” I replied. Elijah let out a laugh.

    “
You got that right, Mr. Rourke.”

    “
I know Little Shop, Mr. Rourke!” beamed Veronica.

    “
Excellent. If you could keep notes on possible candidates, that would be great.”

   
I turned to face Elijah.

    “
If you could keep tabs on performances. Strengths, weaknesses, callbacks.”

    “
You got it!”

   
Despite my earlier misgivings, I was confident I made the right decision in choosing Veronica and Elijah. With Elijah, I learned something else: He was poor. He was brought to A.O.S. on a scholarship from a pharmaceutical company. Here was one young man who could truly benefit from his attendance here. I didn’t feel sorry for him, though I did feel that he deserved a break more than most of the other, more affluent students. And why not give him something to do that was right up his alley?

   
The auditions became a much bigger to-do than I anticipated. Nervous students lined the hallway outside the classroom. One by one, they came in to perform. Armed with a CD, a buddy with a guitar, or just a buddy for moral support, they sang and acted their hearts out. Surprisingly, some of the best performers weren’t in drama. But I had to give special consideration to my students. Otherwise, I ran the risk of alienating my students. I couldn’t do that; not when so many of them struggled with low self-esteem.

   
But before Tuesday’s second round of auditions were to begin, there was a drama of the literal kind shaping up. Apparently overnight, Elijah couldn’t keep his mouth shut and belittled some of the auditions. One thing led to another, and Elijah ended up holed up in his dorm room in self-exile. A meeting was called. Daniel, Frank, Tom, Sheila, and I met in Daniel’s office.

    “
What are we going to do with this guy?” Tom asked, a look of resignation crossing his face.

   
Daniel turned to face Frank.

    “
How are his grades?”

   
Frank opened a folder, and glanced at a printout of his current classes.

    “
Seems to be doing well in most of his classes. A’s and B’s, for the most part. He’s averaging a C in Strumm’s class.”

   
Daniel glanced in my direction. It seemed everyone’s eyes were on me.

    “
How’s he been in your class, Joe?”

    “
Well, up to now, he’s been a great student. But with

this—”

   
Sheila cut me off. “He’s doing great with his program.”

   
Tom nodded. “So, if we stumble him, it might have a negative affect on him.”

   
I don’t know if it was simply Sheila liking what she was hearing from Tom, or her own liking Tom the man himself, but she was all smiles.

    “
Why don’t we have him just go and apologize to the students?” Frank asked.

   
Daniel rose from his seat.

    “
Talk to him, Frank. Have him apologize individually and at Summit.”

    “
Got it.”

   
In the month I’d been at the Academy, I witnessed students receiving a stumble for less serious infractions. Elijah was merely getting his hand slapped. Still, I felt responsible for his actions.

   
After all, I picked him to be a judge.

   
On Wednesday, I had Ellie drop me off at work. She was to bring Bobby after school to check out the campus and meet me after Summit for dinner. At some point, Daniel would meet up with us. In the meantime, I conducted class as usual, except with the nagging feeling that Elijah wasn’t going to be sorry for what he did.

   
When I informed Daniel of my plans to put on Little Shop of Horrors at A.O.S., he was elated. When I asked him for money to put on the show, he approved close to one thousand dollars. There was one small problem. As any experienced high school drama teacher knew, in order to stage a production based on a Broadway show, one had to secure rights. It didn’t matter that the play was going to be showing once and only once in the middle of farm country in a nondescript town of Latino migrant families. I didn’t want to saddle Daniel with all that. The cost of rights and script rental alone would be our entire budget. I simply went on the Internet, and after hours of research, I found a script of the movie version of Little Shop. Good enough.

   
A wave of guilt hit me. I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought to myself. I was a writer, an artist. I understood the importance of protecting my rights. Why did I justify infringing on someone else’s? Sure, I misjudged Elijah’s character, but here I was making yet another questionable decision—a decision where I was the culprit. But I had to follow through.

   
The show must go on.

   
Just after school, Ellie and Bobby showed up at my office. I pulled out a couple Godzilla windup toys from my desk drawer for the little guy to play with. Ellie and I talked about their day and adjusting to the new neighborhood. Daniel stopped by, exchanging a handshake with Ellie. He glanced at my son.

    “
This must be Bobby.”

   
Not looking up, the little guy kept playing with his little monsters. After some small talk, Daniel gave Ellie and Bobby a mini version of the tour he gave me, since he had to get to Summit. After Daniel excused himself, I accompanied my family to the emu pen, taking a look at the flightless birds. A chain-link fence surrounding the three of them, it provided a serviceable, if drab enclosure. We got within a couple feet of the perimeter when the birds, making a guttural, drum-like sound, approached. Bobby, wary of them, stepped back. I didn’t blame him. Whose brilliant idea was it to keep emus, anyway? And I wondered: What if the kids got hungry? I mean, really hungry?

   
We moseyed over to the horse corral, and I introduced the family to the resident horse, Storm. An older fellow, Storm ambled toward us when called. I supplied Ellie and Bobby with plenty of carrots to keep the big guy happy. But as with the emus, Bobby was uneasy connecting with large animals.

    “
I’m scared, Papa.”

    “
It’s okay. Look. I’ll feed him.”

   
Holding out a carrot with one hand, I petted Storm along the crest with my other hand.

    “
See!”

   
Bobby was excited, all right, but not excited enough to feed Storm all by himself. I picked Bobby up, and with his hand helping my hand, we fed Storm together. After checking my watch, I handed the little guy to the missus and headed off to Summit.

    
The meeting was already under way. Daniel was wrapping up a talk on respecting each other and boundaries. He then introduced a friend of his from Yale, Bill Moses, to the group. Tall and thin like Daniel, though a bit on the scrawny side, Bill stood and waved to the distracted crowd. Sporting glasses, a mild pompadour and preppy, casual attire, Bill came across a shade geekier than Daniel—as if that were possible. Sheila followed, giving a rousing, yee-haw-punctuated spiel. These were but mere warm-ups for the main attraction: Elijah’s apology. Standing before his peers and staff, Elijah read from a handwritten letter.

    “
I, Elijah Coleman, stand before y’all here, the A.O.S. community, that I have disrespected my classmates. For this, I am very deeply sorry. I came to Academy of the Sierras to lose weight. But what I have gained here is so much more than that. I have made friends here, friends that I love and will carry long after I am gone from this place. I said things that were wrong, and I hope that my actions from now on will speak louder than my words.”

   
From the looks of it, Elijah’s speech worked. Tearful hugs and high-fives greeted him as he joined his classmates and friends. As I scanned the room, I noticed Jimmy standing in

the shadows. I guess even he knew who was becoming the new poster child of A.O.S.

   
After a yummy, A.O.S.-sponsored meal of buffalo spaghetti—which even my finicky son enjoyed, we drove home. Snuggled in his car seat, Bobby fell fast asleep.

   
As we cruised towards Kingsburg, I thought of Elijah and his speech, about his meteoric rise in popularity—and his massive weight-loss. I only hoped he could continue his success as a “Long-Term-Weight-Controller,” or L.T.W.C. for short. When I thought of his ego exploding a couple days earlier with the trash-talk, or how Jimmy Dyer suddenly found himself out of a crown, a not-so-stray-thought crossed my mind. Twenty years back, I, too, lost a massive amount of weight. It didn’t last. Between my own unchecked ego and conveniently forgetting where I’d been as a former fatty, I packed the pounds again in no time.

   
Maybe this was all a sign for me. Of what, I had yet to figure out.

   
With auditions and callbacks behind me, the cast was picked for Little Shop. Seymour, the lead, was to be played by David Messing, a towheaded, geeky fifteen-year-old who never acted a day in his life. That aside, his singing was something else. Although he could have benefited from a singing coach, his voice was strong, and his delivery was natural and genuine.

   
At sixteen, Maria Rizzetti, a statuesque brunette, had just the right kind of singing chops to play Audrey. Auditioning with Audrey’s solo, “Somewhere That’s Green,” Maria had a resonating, near-operatic quality to her range. Even though we needed her character to be a blonde, getting a wig for Maria was a no-brainer. Ellie had one from her time playing a mermaid at a Cal Arts Halloween party a decade ago, so the loan would save us a few bucks.

   
Another newcomer to show biz, Johnny Giacomo, was to play Audrey’s bad-boy dentist boyfriend, Orin. Like David, he was also fifteen. And like David, he was perfect for the part. But unlike David, he had a girlfriend—on campus.

   
David and Maria and Johnny, along with the rest of the cast had little to no previous stage experience. But like everything else about this place, second chances were what the A.O.S. experience was all about.

   
Despite his earlier infraction, Elijah joined the cast as the man-eating plant and real star of the show, Audrey-Two. His voice could have used some refinement, but he had the right kind of bigger-than-life personality to qualify for the job… so to speak. Stage Manager Veronica and I scheduled rehearsals for cast, as well as construction times for crew. It went without saying that we had to work around B.C. appointments, fitness sessions, activities, other classes, and outings.

   
But before the end of the first week of rehearsals, Maria decided to back out of the show. While I assumed she left due to Elijah’s antics, I never found out. She was gone, and so was, mysteriously, Ellie’s wig. Her understudy, the slightly Rubenesque, fifteen-year-old Danni Roth, was a terrific actress but her singing was second-rate. No matter, as a blonde she was saving me the cost of an additional wig.

   
Over the weekend, I took a little R & R from the hubbub at school. Despite my new job as theatrical producer, I gave myself a few hours of downtime. With Ellie and Bobby in tow, I drove a half-hour south to Visalia to check out a park