Cary hadn’t thought much about whether he missed theater. He didn’t think about high school journalism much, either. Or quiz bowl. Or all the other things they’d kept busy with for four years.
But hehadmissed it...
The backstage whispering. The curtains. Everyone in costume, taking themselves seriously. Shiloh kept pushing him out of people’s way. “Sorry it’s so tight back here,” she said.
“It’s roomy compared to my ship.”
Cary was onstage for the whole play. Tom helped him get situated in the tree costume before the curtain went up—it really was ingenious.
The story was about a young mushroom princess who longs to wander the forest... but she’s stuck in the shade and under the supervision of an old oak tree. Friends were made and lessons were learned. The hedgehog was a riot.
Cary kept his eyes on Shiloh, which was, fortunately, in character for the Old Oak Tree.
She was by turns heartbreaking and hilarious—and absolutely believable as an eight-year-old mushroom princess. She telegraphed Cary’s cues by looking at him, or nudging him. He thought he was mostly hitting everything.
The first time he used his tree voice, Shiloh giggled. So he made it even louder and sillier and more like Jimmy Stewart.
Cary gave one significant line at the wrong time. Shiloh caught it and batted it back to him for a second try. He fixed it.
An hour into the play, he realized that someone else would be the Old Oak Tree tomorrow, and someone else would be the mushroom princess—and he wouldn’t ever get to do this again with Shiloh. Under the lights. In front of an audience. It made him want to wrap his branches around her and hold on.
When the curtain came down, Cary stayed onstage, attached to the set. The other actors—Tom, a woman who played a snake, a man who played a bird—all praised him. “Good thing Craig wasn’t here to see this,” they said. Craig was the usual Old Oak Tree.
The stage emptied out quickly. The tech people were resetting for the next day’s show.
“Cary!” Shiloh shouted from the wings. “I’m going to come help you out of that. Don’t move. Do you have to go to the bathroom?”
“No!” he called.
“You should! You’re probably dehydrated.”
She was back in a few more minutes with a bottle of water. “Sorry,” she said. “I should have had Tom free you.” She was unstrapping and untying him. “You were so good, Cary. So funny. I wish I could keep you. Honestly, I probably could have gotten one of the tech guys to play the tree—it’s what Tom wanted—but you were genius. I knew you would be. I hope someone got pictures. You wereperfect.”
Cary was loose enough to step out of the costume without breaking anything.
Shiloh went to work on his arms, untaping the branches. She was still in full costume. One of her red cheeks had smeared. There was a hole in the neck of her leotard.
“You can keep me,” Cary said.
She pulled the last branch away from his right arm. She looked up at his face.
Cary dropped to one knee.
Fifty-Seven
“Cary,” she said. “No.”
Cary’s eyes were wide and anxious. “No?”
“Not no,” Shiloh said, feeling breathless all of a sudden. “Not nospecifically. But nogenerally. What are you doing?”
“I didn’t plan this,” he said. He looked terrified.
“Okay, good.” She reached for his arm. “Stand up.”
“No,” Cary said. “Let me finish.”
Shiloh’s heart was racing. Shecouldn’tlet him finish. “Cary...”
