Page 111 of Meet Me Under the Lights

We had worked so hard to continue the treasured tradition of what would’ve been a phenomenal summer show, and now it was all for nothing. No matter what I had tried to do beforehand, in the end, nothing could’ve stopped that fire.

Or Ben stumbling about on the stage with a cigarette.

Or Reed being a stubborn hero and going back in the burning building for him after coming to help me.

I took the small piece of the remaining twig and sketched a stage in the dirt while reciting the order of the catwalk lights in my head to calm me down. R1, R2, R3, E1, E2, E3…chained together in groups of three…

What would Grandma do if she were here right now? How would she fight this?

She’d probably fundraise, but even as well-loved as she was, she’d never have raised enough money to rebuild an entire theater in time for a production just a couple of weeks away.

I rubbed my fingers over the looping text of my baseball tattoo and smiled.

So what else, Grandma? Other than literally putting out the flames yourself, because that was the kind of woman you were?

I dropped the twig next to the rough dirt outline of the stage and then moved a few small stones and acorns into arcs around it like an amphitheater.

Wait. Amphitheater!

Clairview!

My hand shot into the air. “What about Clairview?”

The cast quieted so quickly it was as if someone had pressed a mute button.

“What about it?” Cara asked.

“They have an amphitheater.” I stood, my mouth dry. “I was there a couple weeks ago. It needs a little love, but it’s still standing. It’s got a roof over the stage too.”

“No one’s used that stage in years.” Raul kept his eyes on his phone as he spoke. “It’s probably a walking death trap.”

“It’s not. I stood on that stage.” Danced on it. My heart squeezed. “We can use it.” I stepped around a few people to get closer to Ms. Sparrow. “It won’t be easy, and we may not have enough time to pull it off, but…maybe if we push our opening night back one week, we can do it.”

Ms. Sparrow smiled, and her eyes glistened.

“What about sets?” one of the techies asked.

“Um…” I picked at the end of my shirt. “Maybe we don’t need them. Shakespeare didn’t, right? If we really want height with scenes like the balcony, we can use a ladder and dress it up with some fake vines. I’ve seen that done before.”

“And with costumes,” Lauryn chimed in, “we go minimal too. Matching colors like we had planned, but simpler. I saw a ballet production of Romeo and Juliet once where the families wore matching leotards.”

Bradley, aka Mr. Capulet, sniggered. “Trust me. You do not want to see me in a leotard.”

The group giggled.

“Okay, so what about lighting?” Cara asked, an eyebrow arched up.

Oh. Good question.

Even minimal for that would be pricey.

“The sun doesn’t set until, what, eight thirty–ish now?” I asked. “If we do a seven thirty curtain, we’ll have some natural light left. But like I said, the stage has a roof over it, and there’s a ton of trees providing shadows, so we’d still need a couple of light trees, truss squares, a lamp bar, and at least one spot.”

Everyone started speaking at once, and they sounded split down the middle. Some smiled and talked excitedly, but others kept frowning and throwing their hands up like they wanted to surrender and go home.

“Look, guys.” I walked toward the middle of the group and crouched down, remembering what Dad had said once: The best way to get your team to hear you is to get down to their level. I drew the stage in Clairview in the dirt and small U shapes where the audience would sit. The cast and crew pressed in closer.

“There aren’t walls on this stage, so we’ll need some drapes or curtains to hide the cast,” I said. “Or we can do it like some of the newer productions and have the cast on the stage the entire time, but watching and interacting with what goes on. I saw a great musical called Bright Star that did that and—”