26
I GOT AROUND on crutches fairly well, but it wasn’t really any fun. Most of the kids in Mrs. Graham’s class signed my cast. Spike wrote, “You had it coming to you.” Veronica wrote, “Thanks for everything.” Clarissa signed several times. Each time she wrote, “Can you ever forgive me?”
The play was quite a success. Veronica did a creditable job as Cordelia, Spike was an excellent Regan, and Clarissa was outstanding as Goneril.
To tell the truth, I had wanted all along to play Lear myself, but I knew that no one could do a better job than Matthew, and so I gave the part to him. He was superb.
I played the Fool. Judging from the applause, I was good enough, but some people may have been applauding only out of sympathy for my broken foot.
27
VERONICA’S PARENTS threw a cast party in their playroom. They had set up a number of card tables around the room, covered with white paper tablecloths, and at each place was a fluted paper container of candy, a snapper, a paper hat, a paper plate, a paper napkin, and a paper cup with a fold-out handle. For a while, I felt a little sick, partly because I was reminded of all the birthday parties at which I had eaten too much ice cream and had had to throw up on the ride home, and partly because being in the playroom with Veronica beside me, the closet door right behind me, and Mr. and Mrs. McCall bustling around made me apprehensive, but the camaraderie was infectious, and I soon began to relax and enjoy myself. I was sitting at a table with Veronica, Spike, and Clarissa.
Spike was sitting on my right, and now and then she would pause in the wolfing down of her ice cream and cake, chuckle, and give me a friendly knock on the shoulder or punch in the stomach. I’m quite sure that Spike would have broken my foot when she learned that I had given the part of Cordelia to Veronica if Clarissa hadn’t already broken it. As it was, seeing that my foot had been broken by someone seemed to be enough to satisfy her.
Veronica was sitting on my left. At one point she poked me and pointed downward. She had part of her skirt pulled up, and I saw that she was wearing my underpants. She hadn’t returned them to me even after I had given her the part. When I told her the news, she had given me an extravagant hug, and while she was hugging me she whispered in my ear that she would hang on to them for a while just in case. I pulled back from her and told her not to forget that I had hers. “I guess that makes us even,” she said.
Clarissa was sitting opposite me, smiling and telling whoever passed that she wished she had been able to do a better job as Goneril. She had her muff in her lap, and she stroked it like a pet.
“Say,” I said. “I’d like to make a toast.” The girls sat up straight. They raised their paper cups as I had raised mine.
“To Regan, to Goneril, and to Cordelia,” I said, saluting each of them in turn with my cup. “I’m glad it’s over, and I’m glad we’re friends.”
“To Peter,” they answered, and we touched our raised cups. When we lowered them again, I was looking into Clarissa’s big eyes. The reflection in them of the fluorescent light overhead brought on an annoying itch inside the cast on my foot.
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