Page 25 of A Whim and a Prayer

Winnie glanced at Beck once more, annoyed when she suddenly saw her best friend through Melissa’s eyes.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in action,” the honey-headed cookie had said.

“Well, that makes one of us,” Winnie muttered under her breath as she turned back to Mrs. C, not happy with other girls ogling Beck.

Best friend or no.

Chapter Sixteen

“Mrs. C, do you want me to get everybody seated so we can get started?”

Mrs. Cullen patted Winnie’s shoulder. “That would be great, Winnie. You have the script selections, I presume, and enough scoring sheets and pencils for us and the other drama-club members in attendance?”

Winnie gave a firm nod. “Yes, ma’am, just like you requested. With information lines for the judge’s name as well as the child’s name, age, and physical appearance, along with the 1-5 rating system you wanted—vocal quality, projection, presence, ability to take direction, and acting ability. Plus a larger column for specific notes we may want to take … and pencils needle-sharpened and ready to go. Then Abby will, of course, record all pertinent information needed for The Home for Little Wanderers administrators. She’ll also provide them with instruction sheets she’s created that include both your telephone number and mine and the schedule for rehearsal and show dates.”

“Excellent!” Mrs. C clapped her hands together. “As I told you at our planning meeting, I sent the administrators information sheets a while back to fill out for all children auditioning. They were to assign a number to the sheet for each child, then give it to them to bring up when we call their number. And I planned to get us started with a welcome and to reiterate all instructions, but …”

She dug her trusty whistle out of her pocket and handed it to Winnie as she nodded toward the man who was talking to Beck. “I should really talk to my friend first since he’s doing me a huge favor agreeing to be my stage manager. So, would you mind handling the welcome? And tell my friend I’ll be right there, will you? His name is Arthur Davis.”

“You bet, Mrs. C—I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Winnie! The head administrator, Mrs. Lombardy, said the microphone is live, so you can do your announcement from there. Melissa, you can have a seat while I get Melody set up on the piano with the music I’ve chosen. Melody, if you will follow me?”

Mrs. C marched off with Melody in tow while Winnie introduced herself to Mr. Davis and relayed Mrs. C’s message. Tugging her satchel off Beck’s shoulder with a smile, she enlisted his help to corral the crew into their seats and give each a score sheet and pencil while she and Abby reviewed their audition instructions.

“Well, here we go …” Winnie whispered to Abby as she pulled her notes from her satchel and mounted the steps, excitement skittering in her stomach as always when she was on a stage. Adjusting the microphone way down, she cleared her throat. “Welcome, everyone”—she smiled brightly at the children—“especially the youngsters who’ve come to audition today. Mrs. Cullen, her crew, and I would like to thank you for taking the time to be here today, with special thanks to The Home for Little Wanderers for allowing us to use their facilities.”

Winnie held up a sample information sheet with a large red number on it. “Children—each of you should have an information sheet with a bright red number on top, so if you don’t, just tell one of the adult administrators. Now, when we call your number, please bring your sheet to Miss Abby in the front row”—on cue, Abby stood and waved her clipboard at the children—“and she’ll provide you with a script to read, which will be one of the several short scripts your administrators should have given you a week ago to practice.”

Turning, Winnie pointed to the narrow steps on the left side of the stage in front of the piano where Melody sat with shoulders straight, ready to play. “Then you’ll just go up those stairs by the piano to stand in the middle of the stage next to the podium and read your script. When you’re done, Miss Melody at the piano will give you a musical intro to one of the songs your administrators taught you, so just belt it out as loud and clear as you can, all right? You will have approximately twenty seconds to read your script and then twenty seconds to sing the song.”

She pointed to the other side of the stage. “When the whistle sounds, we ask that you exit the stage on the right and quietly return to your seat.” She smiled at the crowd with a lift of brows. “Any questions?”

A young boy waved in the air from the second row, and Winnie nodded. “Yes?”

“Do we get to use the microphone?” the little guy asked, freckled face lit with hope.

Winnie gave him a tender smile. “Unfortunately no, sweetheart, because all of the judges need to hear the strength and projection of your voice on your own, so be sure to give it everything you’ve got, okay? But … if you get a speaking part”—she wiggled her brows—“you’ll definitely have a microphone.”

“Hot diggity dog!” the little guy shouted, and everyone laughed, including Winnie.

Another hand slipped up. “When will we find out if we made it?” a young girl asked.

Winnie’s smile was warm. “Your individual administrator will let you know in a few days. As you can see from the information sheet that was on your chair, we have speaking roles for 12 children in the actual play itself, but we’ll need at least twenty children for the children’s ensemble.

“Once final children’s cast and ensemble are chosen, each will be given a rehearsal packet with everything they need to know. Anything else?” She glanced to and fro throughout the auditorium. “No? Then, let’s begin.”

Two hours later Winnie felt like she could “begin” all over again because the children were so much fun! How she wished she could award every single one with a part to play, but those she’d chosen on her judge’s sheet were going to be spectacular—if Mrs. C and the rest of the crew judges agreed.

Without question, each of the thirty children chosen by the administrators to audition was extremely talented, either in singing, diction, or both. But it was one little girl in particular who had stolen Winnie’s heart right out the gate for her grit and personality, reminding her so much of herself at that age that her heart had literally squeezed in her chest.

At seven years old, little Poppy Doe had strutted up to Abby with a pert lift of her chin, her large hazel eyes bold and matter-of-fact and a moppet of carrot-colored curls as incorrigible as she appeared to be. Handing her sheet to Abby, she rocked back on the heels of scuffed and worn brown leather shoes while she tucked two tiny thumbs beneath the straps of patched overalls too big for her tiny frame. “Howdy—my name is Poppy Doe, since I’m an orphan and all, and I’m here to tell ya that I plan to be an actress someday, so I’m giving y’all first crack at me.”

Poppy Doe. Winnie blinked, shocked at a sudden sting of tears while everyone else chuckled. Here before her stood her very self at the age of five—Winnie Doe, ready to take on the world. But when that little sweetheart flashed a near toothless smile except for one snaggletooth that jutted straight out, Winnie knew they were cut from the same cloth.

Mrs. C greeted Poppy with a bright smile while Abby handed her a script. “Welcome to the tryouts, Poppy. I’m Mrs. Cullen, and I must say, you certainly dressed for the part, young lady.”

“Shoot no, ma’am, these are my everyday duds, but I did make this here cowboy hat to get a leg up on the competition, if you know what I mean.” With a tip of her brown construction-paper cowboy hat, which was obviously homemade, the little ragamuffin stuck out a grimy hand to shake Mrs. Cullen’s hand first, then Abby’s, and finally Winnie’s. Right before she leaned in with a sassy wink. “And pardon me for saying so, but y’all would be plain loco if you don’t put me in this here play, and that’s a fact.”