Page 87 of Potion Sickness

“Yes.”

He stops. “I had more.”

“I know,” I say.

He grins.

“Next Friday?”

“Next Friday.”

Englebert opens one eye when l start the engine.

“Item one,” he says. “Next Friday. You’ll want to wear your nice blue dress.”

CHAPTER 26

Englebert has been in possession of the Burlington paper’s review of Macbeth for three days, and he has not stopped carrying it around the house.

Of course, he can’t actually physically carry it, so really, he’s been ordering for it to be relocated. The review has now traveled from the kitchen table to the parlor to the front hall, ferried by whichever human happens to be passing, so that Englebert can sit beside it in whatever room he’s in.

He asked me to underline the sentence he likes best, which reads: ‘Damien Carter delivers the performance of his career, a Macbeth of such command and vocal architecture that one struggles to believe it emerged within a converted basketball court.’

“Vocal architecture,” Englebert says, for perhaps the fortieth time. “That critic has an ear.”

“That critic has no idea they reviewed a cat,” Pru says.

The run closed Sunday after two weeks, six performances, and six sold-out houses. Zero incidents were entered into Emma’s log.

Byways took my final piece and ran it as the print edition’s lead feature. ‘CURTAIN CALL IN DUSKBORO.’ My editor was thrilled, and asked in a follow-up email that I reach out to discuss what I can do for them next.

Skye’s video of the banquet scene — filmed from the back row, on her phone, in defiance of at least two of Dana’s posted rules — has done numbers online. It was seen by an unfathomable number of people, including a producer in New York who called Damien’s agent Monday morning to ask whether he was available in the spring for a revival.

Damien said yes, of course.

“I am delighted for Mr. Carter,” Englebert says. “Delight is the entirety of what I feel. A director’s work lives in his actors. That is the covenant of the theater. The coach does not run onto the field to collect the trophy.”

“You’ve mentioned,” I say.

“Because it bears mentioning.”

“Four times this morning.”

“Some covenants require maintenance.” He arranges his tail over his feet and looks out the window.

Englebert was credited, technically. The program lists the full company, the crew, Lily (“Crime Scene by Lily Archer”), and, as executive producer, one Englebert G. Wardwell.

Nobody knows where the ‘G.’ came from. Dana typed the programs herself, and insists that Englebert insisted on it. It has since become a matter of communal obsession.

“Gregory,” Hannah guesses.

“No.”

“Gielgud,” Gabe offers.

“Flattering, but no.”

“Garrick” was Rupert’s guess, which he submitted via text from his home in Pennsylvania.