Nothing but the Truth

I had seen something on the bulletin board at Russell’s the day we got back to Humboldt about Mercury Theater needing a few teenagers to audition for a part in the Musical Showcase. The audition was that day, and I made a split-second decision to attend. Humboldt took Southern hospitality to extremes, so I was pretty sure I'd get in.

That didn’t stop the nerves I was experiencing from practically seeping into my bones. I walked to the theater, only a few blocks from my house, in hopes that the warm early April air would smack some sense into me. I had always been a theater girl; why was this any different?

When I was in sixth grade, I had a choir class. My teacher, Mrs. Perry, adored me. Mrs. Perry loved most things, but she really liked the short, skinny pale girl in the back who could hit every high note she tried. I had never thought myself that good of a singer until a newlywed who wore rose-colored glasses to see the world told me I was. And I believed her, because I loved Mrs. Perry right back.

She got me in with the Augusta City Theater, which everyone called ACT. I played every role I was the right age for, which wasn’t many but still made me feel important. No one but Mrs. Perry really loved me at ACT, which meant that I had earned the role of Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz fair and square. It had been six months since I played Dorothy, and I still found myself singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow in my sleep.

Mercury Theater was exactly as I remembered it. The foyer was painted ivory and had ticket booths on the right and left, with a table between them. A friendly-looking woman with wide brown eyes and hair as white as the walls looked up and smiled at me.

“Are you here for the audition?” she asked hopefully.

I nodded, a small smile curving my lips upwards. “My name is Marina Bailey.”

“Marina!” The woman stood up quickly and pulled me towards the theater itself. “Have you and your mother moved back?”

“Yes ma’am,” I said cautiously. I hardly remembered the adults in Humboldt Beach, but they all remembered me. “She’s working at Russell’s now. Is anyone else auditioning?”

“Well…” The woman seemed reluctant, but she finally admitted. “No. But it would still be lovely if you’d come upstage and sing something for us.”

The closer I got to the stage, the more teenagers I saw. There was a beautiful redheaded girl sitting next to a curly-haired boy, a guy with long dreads and caramel skin, a pair of brunette sisters, and about a dozen other kids sitting around and chatting. When they saw the older woman, they all turned, mixed expressions on their faces.

“Who did you find, Abigail?” One of the sisters asked. She looked remarkably similar to the girl next to her.

“Marina Bailey,” Abigail told them, grinning proudly. “She’s going to sing for us.”

Once my name was mentioned, a handful of whispers broke out, but the boy with dreads shushed them. I took a hard swallow as I stepped onto the stage.

“Do you have anything in particular you want me to sing, Abigail?” I asked. Nerves fluttered in my stomach again.

“Just whatever you’re most comfortable with,” she said encouragingly.

Which meant Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I was pleasantly surprised by the looks of pleasant surprise on many faces. Except for the boy with the dreads, who looks so familiar it bothered me.

“Welcome back, Marina,” he said simply after I was finished, clapping his hands together a few times. A small smile, close to a smirk, was on his face and it suddenly hit me.

I was standing in front of Elias Gonzales again.