Penelope (34 page)

Two days later, Penelope woke up with a premonition of doom. For a while, she lay in bed with her eyes open, mulling over her current circumstances and trying to pinpoint the source of her discomfort. Then she remembered that tomorrow was opening night of
Caligula
. Yesterday’s dress rehearsal had not been a success. Rattailed Caligula fell into an accidental split during the ballet. Bitty knew approximately one-third of her lines.

Intellectually, Penelope thought excessive guilt was self-indulgent, but that did not stop her from the occasional flagellating reflection.
Caligula
was a horrible destiny, but in another way, what had she done to deserve such suffering? Why did she even agree to be in this play? It was something about being helpful, Penelope decided, the worst of all motivating factors.

Penelope got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. When she got out of the shower, she put on a pair of white
pants, a white sweater, and white socks to symbolize the sacrificial nature of tomorrow’s events. As she went into the common room to get her coat and leave to go to class, Lan came out of her bedroom to go to the bathroom. It was eleven a.m., which was a relatively early emergence for Lan. She was carrying Raymond under her arm like a book and was wearing a yellow terry-cloth bathrobe over her T-shirt, so Penelope could not see what was on it.

“Hi, Lan,” said Penelope. “You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Lan. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her non-Raymond hand.

“Me neither,” said Penelope. “I am worried about
Caligula
.”

“I’m not going.”

“But you do the lights!” said Penelope. “You have to go!”

“No, I don’t,” said Lan.

“Oh,” said Penelope.

“What is that outfit?” said Lan, looking at Penelope’s pants.

“A white outfit,” said Penelope.

“If I do the lights for the play, then I am bringing Raymond to tomorrow’s show. I hope you don’t get allergies,” said Lan.

She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. Penelope left and started walking to her first class. Lan had never worried about her allergies before. Maybe they were becoming closer friends.

Penelope’s first class was Southern Writers Reconsidered/Revisited. Penelope arrived late. It was raining again, which was bad for her white outfit.

“Since we are only going to read the first forty pages of
The Sound and the Fury
,” said the professor, glaring at Penelope but blessedly not remonstrating her for tardiness, “I might as well tell you what it is about.”

As the professor summarized the entire plot of
The Sound and the Fury
, Penelope sunk into a reverie about Gustav. Penelope
had not heard from him since the limericks evening and it was starting to make her anxious. He never texted her back the other night. It had been only five days or so, so it was possible that Gustav was busy and therefore not available. Penelope was very busy too (she supposed), but it didn’t really affect her availability. She was always available. That was the thing.

“And that’s when he drops the flower on the ground,” said the professor. “OK, so for next week, we are reading parts of
A Streetcar Named Desire
. Your assignment, for your response paper, is to go see a play this weekend. In your response paper, I want you to discuss the differences between viewing a play and reading a play. They are very different. Notice the staging. We are going to talk a lot about the literary quality in Williams’s stage directions. In fact, the entire excerpt I am giving to you is stage directions.”

“What’s playing this weekend?” asked one of the kids in the class.

“Caligula,”
said the professor. “My friend and former classmate here, Henry Wills-Mather, is directing it. I am sure he will do something absolutely fantastic with the text. He is extremely innovative.”

“I think there are other things playing too,” said Penelope without raising her hand. “I think there is a dance show.”

“I don’t want people to see a dance show. That is not a play,” said the professor testily.

“OK,” said Penelope.

“Class dismissed,” said the professor.

Ten people
, thought Penelope as she walked slowly out of the classroom, dragging her foot behind her slightly, out of stress.
Ten extra people who were not originally going to go to
Caligula
were now going to go to
Caligula. Penelope was unsure the theater could even hold that many people. Maybe Henry Wills-Mather would use them as human props. She shuddered at the thought.

Penelope had a free hour between her Southern Writers class and her Dinosaurs section, so she went to get a coffee at
the Barker Center. She was standing in a long line when something awful happened.

“Penelope, is that you?” It was Jared. He was in line behind her. He stepped obviously out of the line and sidled up beside her, perhaps to talk at length. Penelope felt a shooting pain in her foot. Maybe she was getting a clubfoot.

“Oh, hi, yes,” said Penelope, wincing.

“How are you, Penelope?” said Jared. “How is this semester going?”

“Oh,” said Penelope. The line was moving very slowly. “It’s really cool.”

“I figured you must have been busy because you didn’t come to the final office hours I had,” said Jared. “We had Rice Krispies treats. I think the section really enjoyed themselves.”

“Well,” said Penelope. “You are right! I was busy! You see, I am in this play.”

“Ahh,
Caligula
,” said Jared. “I am going to that tomorrow!”

“You are?” said Penelope. “Why?”

“Why not? I said I was going. You are still my proctee, after all. Perhaps I can get everyone in the dorm to go.”

“Can I have a coffee, please?” said Penelope in a strangled voice to the woman behind the counter.

“I’m very excited about it,” continued Jared. “I love the idea of setting it in French Algeria. That’s fucking brilliant.”

“Oh, yes,” said Penelope. The woman handed Penelope her coffee and Penelope slammed two dollars onto the counter with unnecessary vehemence. “Well, I have to get to another class. Bye!”

“See you tomorrow night!” yelled Jared.

Penelope ran out of the building. She ran down the street and didn’t stop running until she spilled coffee all over her white pants. She found a leaf on the ground and was trying to wipe the coffee off her pants with it when she got a call from her mother.

“Penelope!” said her mother.

“Mom!” said Penelope.

“I am so excited for the play!”

“You’re coming?” asked Penelope.

“Of course I am coming! It is your theatrical debut!”

“I really don’t think parents are allowed to come,” said Penelope.

“Penelope, that is ridiculous. Of course parents are allowed to come! I have never heard of something like this where parents wouldn’t be able to come. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“OK,” said Penelope.

“What is the play called again?” asked Penelope’s mother.

“Caligula,”
said Penelope.

“Oh, that’s right,” said Penelope’s mother. “Is it a musical?”

“No,” said Penelope.

“Well, what’s it about?”

“I don’t really know,” said Penelope. “It’s an absurdist play, so it doesn’t really make any sense. But that is on purpose. It’s supposed to show how narrative doesn’t mean anything in the modern age.”

“Oh,” said Penelope’s mother. “Well, that is depressing. Maybe I shouldn’t bring your grandmother.”

“Yeah,” said Penelope.

“Or Father Bennigan.”

“Definitely not,” said Penelope.

Penelope wandered around for the rest of the day in a haze. She went to two more classes. She went to the library and opened up her laptop and stared at it. She was late for everything because of her clubfoot. Occasionally, she would feel a paroxysm of fear when she thought about the sheer number of people who were coming to the play. This would eventually subside into a mild sickness.

By dinnertime, Penelope was not particularly hungry, but she felt like she needed to at least show up at the dining hall and go through the motions of eating. She was putting pickles on a chicken patty sandwich when she ran into Glasses and Nikil.
They were also making chicken patty sandwiches at the chicken patty sandwich–making station.

“Hey, Penelope,” said Nikil. “Nice outfit.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Penelope. “Do you want to sit together? I didn’t come here with anyone.”

“No,” said Nikil. “We are just taking these sandwiches to go. We have to do some studying tonight if we are going to see the play this weekend.”

“Oh,” said Penelope. “What play? The dance show?”

“No,” said Nikil. “I didn’t know there was a dance show. Your play.
Caligula
.”

“Oh, why?” said Penelope too loudly. She couldn’t help but feel there was a note of franticness in her voice. She didn’t want it to be there, but she couldn’t really help it.

“Because!” said Nikil, slightly annoyed. “I love
Caligula
. It is one of my favorite plays.”

“Me too,” said Glasses. “Plus, I am writing the review for the
Crimson
, so I get in for free.”

“Really?” said Penelope. “But it’s a Saturday night! Isn’t there something else to do?”

“What else could there be?” said Nikil.

“A dance show,” said Penelope.

“Well, I have to do this,” said Glasses. “It is my job.”

“Oh,” said Penelope.

“The quickest way to be president of the
Crimson
is through the arts board. It is so disorganized.”

“Oh, oh,” said Penelope. “Right.”

“Well, we have to get going,” said Nikil. “Anyway.”

Penelope did not bother eating dinner after that. She just sat staring into space until it was time to go to dress rehearsal.

It is funny how shock works. On the morning of the opening night of
Caligula
, Penelope did not feel the terror she felt the day before. She did not even feel the embarrassment. All she felt was sort of preoccupied, which was only partially
Caligula
’s fault.

In addition to the fact that today was opening night, today was also the day she was supposed to accompany Gustav, Emma, and Bitty to the arboretum. However, things were not going as planned. When Penelope had woken up, Emma was not in her bed. Penelope had texted her, but she didn’t reply. Then Penelope called her, but Emma did not pick up her phone. Now Penelope was sitting in the common room, waiting to see if Emma or Gustav would call her and ask her to meet them somewhere. So far this had not happened. Penelope was starting to feel quite nervous.

Penelope was still in the common room drinking coffee and waiting for Gustav to call her when Lan entered the room. She smelled intensely of paint. She was wearing a T-shirt that had the words
MAJOR LEAGUE BORING
written above a picture of a guy playing baseball.

“Hey, Lan,” said Penelope. “How are you?”

“Terrible,” said Lan. “Henry Wills-Mather won’t let Raymond be one of the marionettes.”

“But he is not a puppet,” said Penelope. “Have you seen Emma?”

“No,” said Lan. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” said Penelope.

Lan grunted and stalked into the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later Ted leaped over the recycling bin and bounded into the common room. He was wearing green plaid pajama pants and his bangs were in full evidence.

“You are up early!” said Penelope jovially, because even this was better than waiting alone.

“It’s one p.m. I already went to breakfast with Catherine,” said Ted. “Oh my God, Penelope, are you excited for the play tonight?”

“Not really,” said Penelope.

“I know,” said Ted. He sat heavily on the futon. “You have never been excited about it. Even when you were cast as a marionette operator.”

“It’s true,” said Penelope glumly, thinking of Gustav and his love of marionette costumes.

“What’s the matter?” said Ted. “Are you OK? You look upset.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Penelope. “It’s just, well, have you seen Emma?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Ted. “I saw her on the way back from Annenberg. She was getting into a seventies BMW with some other girl. It looked like they were going somewhere. Are you looking for her?”