2016 – Day 39

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: starts with this dialogue: Is that a sword?

Step 2: add a character who: wears an amulet

Step 3: add a scene that takes place: on a bridge

-------

"Is that a sword?" The bus driver stares at me, arm outstretched with her palm forward in the universal sign for stop.

"It's for a play," I say, taking the first step onto the bus.

"Uh-uh," she says. "You can't come on board with that."

"I have to get to rehearsal," I say, offering my meekest smile. "I can leave it up front with you."

"No, that is completely against the rules."

"Please?"

"No. Get rid of the sword or I'll have to ask you to disembark."

I stare at the sword, now heavy in my hand, and I regret not trying to hide it in a bag. I am fairly certain the only reason I was cast in the play was because I said I could provide a sword. I try to picture what would happen if I arrive without it.

"Thanks anyway," I say and step off. The doors shut and the bus merges into traffic as I begin the 10-block walk to the community theatre.

It's a sweltering day, so I am wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt. Without a bag, there is no place to hide the sword on my person. I try to avoid eye contact with the other pedestrians in case anyone gets freaked out by a guy carrying a sword and wearing a Highlander "There can be only one" shirt. I walk three blocks while lost in my own thoughts when I hear someone shouting behind me.

"Hey! Hellooooo! Shawn!"

The sound of my name breaks my reverie and I spin around to see who's behind me. There, making her way around a group of tourists who have stopped to take a picture by the Waymore Cafe, is Viola.

"You're blocking the sidewalk!" she shouts at the tourists and spits at their feet, then stomps toward me. She is also wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but around her neck hangs the enormous green amulet from her costume. She walks past me then gives me a look over her shoulder.

"Are you coming?" she says.

"Yeah," I say, jogging to catch up with her. I try to match her pace, but she is surprisingly fast despite being a foot shorter than me.

"This rehearsal is going to suck," she says, shaking her head. Her shoulder-length brown hair is pulled into a small ponytail and I watch several strands escape with each shake of her head. She quickly tucks the strands behind her ears without breaking stride.

"Why?" I ask.

"Evan has no idea what he's doing. I should've been directing, but they have that stupid rule about rotating directors with each show. It should be the most experienced person, right?"

"I guess so. Evan seems nice, though. I'm glad he cast me."

She stops to look at me. We're on the Besser River Bridge, which has a narrow pedestrian sidewalk, and she stands in the middle of it, hands on hips, staring at me while everyone walks around her, shooting us angry looks.

"He's using you for your sword." She looks at me, lip curled in disgust.

"I kind of figured. But he could have given me a smaller part than he did."

"You're an idiot," she says, then turns and spits over the edge of the bridge. A man navigating around her almost gets hit with spittle and gives her an incredulous look. She glares back at him and he continues walking while swearing loud enough for us to hear. Viola rolls her eyes and begins walking toward the theatre again.

I follow, though I don't try as hard to keep up. She sees me lagging and slows her pace. We walk in silence for the next five blocks, me lugging my sword and Viola wearing her amulet, which blinds me whenever the sun hits it just right when I am beside her. I hear her sigh audibly each time we're forced to walk around people who are slower than we are, but she doesn't say anything else.

Finally, we are within sight of the theatre. I can feel sweat dripping down my back and I pick up my pace to get into the air conditioning. Suddenly, Viola stops short in front of me and turns around. I stop, too, and look down at her. We are inches from each other.

"If I end up directing the play, I'll let you keep your part," she says.

"What?"

"I'm going to talk with Stan about directing. I think they've made a huge mistake with Evan. But I want you to know that you won't be losing your part when that happens."

"Um, okay," I say.

"Just wanted to make sure we were clear, you know, if there's a debate or a vote." She nods her head toward me, as if settling the issue, then turns toward the theatre. She climbs the three steps to the front door and goes inside. I am confused as I stare after her, but the sword is growing heavier in the heat, and I can hear the A/C unit humming. I follow Viola into the theatre.