CHAPTER ONE
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Alex ignored the uneasy stares of Joanna and Vicente as he fixed Leo with a stare of his own, one he hoped would pierce the slim lump of flesh this witless, self-styled auteur called a brain. “I know that, Leo. We’re supposed to be on stage. Right now. Rehearsing. You’re supposed to be gone.”
Leo responded with the kind of exaggerated eye roll that could only preface a bald-faced lie. “Maria knows we need more rehearsal time than you do. This is an epic fantasy allegory of our country’s endurance under Franco—”
“It’s a rehash ofAlice in Wonderlandthat has nothing to do with Franco.”
“—and we need all the time we can get. Do you think your little one-man, late-night stand-up show needs as much rehearsal time as—”
“That onewomanis standing right here,” Joanna interrupted, her voice laced with cheerful menace. “And it’s a bold dance retelling ofBlood Weddingwith a script that would make Lorca proud.”
“It’s a script that would make Lorca glad he’s dead.”
“Who cares what you think, Leo?” Vicente growled. “Seriously, man. You’ve got six rehearsals booked this week, and that’s not enough? You’ve got to cut into our time too?”
“Exactly!” Alex scraped the bar with his fingernails. “You’ve got six rehearsals on the schedule, we’ve got two. So, we’d appreciate it if you’d pack your little epic fantasy up for the day and give us the time we’ve booked.”
Leo flicked his head toward the end of the bar. “Why don’t you take out the garbage under the bar? It’s starting to stink.”
“Go fuck a cactus, Leo.”
Before Joanna could squeeze Vicente’s hand to calm him down, a small woman in a blue, blood-stained doll’s dress stuck her head out from the theatre door to check on the commotion. Then came two long, lopsided ears belonging to a March hare, a dusty, oversized hat sported by an equally oversized woman whose beard fell over her ample breasts like a winter shawl, and a White Rabbit mask whose incisors, Alex thought, had missed slicing Alice’s throat by inches.
Joanna folded her arms. “Congratulations, Leo. I think this is your biggest audience yet.”
Leo scoffed. “I have four scenes to rehearse today.”
“Four?Do you?” Alex asked. “Well, that’s your bad timing. It’s our turn.”
A malevolent grin crossed Leo’s face. “I’ll tell you what. Take the garbage out. Then, one more scene and the theatre’s all yours.”
“And let you lock us out?” Joanna pushed a long lock of dark hair off her face and put her hands on her hips. “No, thanks.”
“Well one of you better settle it before I cancel both your bookings and offer them to the university,” Maria, the theatre manager, said from the lobby as she closed her office door. She was five-foot-two and looked old enough to be the Virgin’s grandmother. She puffed her cigarette, eyeing the assembled company of two annoyed directors, Joanna, Vicente, a White Rabbit, a March Hare, a Hatter, a caterpillar, a blood-spattered doll holding a stuffed kitten, a man with a Franco moustache drowning in the royal robes ofLa Reina Roja, and two playing card guards who battled the flimsy construction of their costumes to keep their shoulders upright.
“We have the theatre from five until seven. That’s all there is to it.” Vicente turned to Maria. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Maria shrugged. “Do you think I keep all that business in my head? What I do know is that I can’t think a damn with you lot babbling on out here.”
“We extended our booking until six,” Leo said. “Hey, I’m sorry you weren’t told, Alex.”
“Who would have told me?” Alex snarled. “Maria?”
“Like hell.” Maria slipped behind the bar and poured herself a vermouth. “You kids think I’m your secretary, too? Holy Mother, I swear—”
“I….” Every set of eyes turned to the White Rabbit, who shuffled his feet in front of the theatre’s entrance, a script hanging from oversized paws crossed with contrition. “I might have forgotten to tell them.”
“Youwhat?” hissed Leo. “Seriously? I asked you to do one thing!”
“On top of learning three parts in this play?”
“Isn’t that your stage manager’s job?” asked Vicente.
As if on cue, João stumbled behind the rabbit, dropping a silver tray that send a cascade of plastic tea cups and saucers clattering to the floor.
“Right,” Alex said. “You’re not only working your cast half to death, but your crew as well.”
