The laughter that rumbled through the cast and stage crew seemed to set them in motion. People started rushing off the stage to claim what was now the four minutes and thirty seconds they had left of their break.
Sarah greeted them as they ascended the short stairway up to the stage. She set the cans down behind the set.
“Hey.” She went up on tiptoes to accept Chris’s kiss, then leaned into him and looked at Molly and Sam. “I feel like I should tell you to run for your lives, but you know what they say about misery.”
Sam and Chris chuckled while Molly looked around.
“There’s safety in numbers,” Chris said, a smile in his tone.
Sarah gave an exaggerated laugh, making Molly giggle. “That’s what you think, my pretty.”
Molly took a moment to absorb her surroundings. She’d been to a couple of community plays when she’d lived in other towns, but none had rivaled the elaborate detail of the set she was standing on. Instead of a stage, she stood on the yellow brick road, surrounded by tall trees of various shapes and colors. The wooden backdrop resembled houses on one side—meant to be Kansas, while on the other, Oz was depicted with an elegant castle. When she looked up, she saw a hollow house hanging in the air. Sarah stood beside her and pointed. “That’s the house that kills the witch.”
Molly looked at her friend, momentarily admiring the pretty green clip holding back her dark side bangs. “This is incredible.”
Sarah nodded. “She’s a tyrant, but she’s actually very talented. I worked on plays all through high school and a bit in college. She knows what she’s doing even if she doesn’t go about getting what she wants in the nicest way.”
Cora Lester— a local who’d informed Molly shortly after she’d arrived that by dating Sam she had stolen the perfect husband for her daughter—came to stand next to them.
“Don’t be hard on Magnolia,” Cora said. “Especially not where she can hear you. From what I’ve read, most geniuses have gruff personalities, and can you blame them? I mean, no one really gets them, do they?”
Before she could say anything in response, a tall woman dressed as Auntie Em glared down the bridge of her nose, even going so far as to put her fingers on her thin-framed glasses. For a moment, Molly thought she was just staying in character.
“Do you think all that brown-nosing will actually get you anywhere?”
Cora turned an icy shoulder on the woman and gave Molly a wide-fake smile. Molly knew from experience that Cora had a sharp tongue and didn’t mind using it to spread gossip or warnings. It was surprising that she chose not to respond to the other cast member. Instead, she asked, “How are you, Molly?”
“Fine, thanks,” Molly said, glancing over at Sarah.
The other woman walked away from them and Cora’s smile dropped immediately. “You should really clear the stage for the actors,” Cora said dismissively, pulling a folded script from her back pocket.
Sarah turned to Molly and rolled her eyes. “Come on,” Sarah said. “I still have to paint the other side.” As they moved around the wooden staging—basically long pieces of plywood artfully connected by two-by-fours at the bottom, Sarah looped her arm through Molly’s. “She’s one of the monkeys.”
Molly stifled her laugh. Chris and Sam were already painting at one end of the panels.
“Everyone back in their places. I’m telling you, if every theater was this incompetent, there’d be no shows,” Magnolia’s voice rang out from somewhere out front.
“Where’s Dorothy? Dorothy?” Her voice came out shrill.
“She refuses to call them by their real names,” Sarah whispered, handing Molly a paintbrush.
Molly’s eyes widened as an older woman she didn’t recognize—and not just because she was dressed like Dorothy—hurried around the set and out to the front of the stage.
“Right here, Ms. Sweet,” the woman said.
“Don’t think I can’t replace you,” Magnolia said. Her voice carried well through the auditorium. “Let me tell you the first thing I learned in Hollywood; anyone can be replaced.”
“Not you,” Cora called back.
“I’m making a few changes. Dorothy, go stand stage left for a moment. Where are the monkeys? Instead of six, I only want three. Monkeys four, five, and six, you’ll be silent woodland creatures instead. Tiffany, make a note.”
Molly, glad she wasn’t Tiffany— whoever that was— continued painting hand-drawn bricks a shiny shade of gold. Sarah’s sharp intake of air made her look up. “You okay?” She whispered it across the space.
Sarah winced and pointed out front.
“But I’m monkey six,” Cora said loudly.
“And now you’re a quiet little bunny in the background. Let’s go again with the lights. Is there anyone in the damn tech booth?” Fingers snapped loudly. “Anyone?”
“We’re here, Ms. Sweet,” said a voice through the speaker system.
“Finally,” Magnolia said. “From the top.”
“Ms. Sweet. There were no bunnies in the play. I don’t understand.”
Molly couldn’t help it. She set the paintbrush down and tiptoed to the edge of the set, peering around. Several people milled about in the wings, and it felt like they were holding their collective breaths.
Magnolia came up the stairs and stood right in front of Cora. “Are you challenging me?”
Cora shook her head. “Of course not. It’s just, I was pleased with my role.”
Magnolia jutted out her hip and placed her hand on it. “And I would be pleased if you stopped wasting my time. While I was outside, I realized that the spark I’m missing isn’t just because you’re a dreadful lot of actors. It’s because there are too many of you. No play needs this many active characters. Now, if you want to be part of the production at all, I suggest you hop along backstage and see if wardrobe has some cute ears for you to wear. Otherwise, your services are no longer needed. Tiffany, get me a water.”
In the bright overhead lights, Molly caught the sheen in Cora’s eyes, and though she was no fan of Ms. Lester, she felt badly for the woman.
“Well then. I quit. You think you can treat people however you want, Magnolia Sweet, but mark my words, one day it’s going to come back and bite you in your butt.”
Cora tossed her script on the ground and stormed off the stage. Magnolia spread her arms wide, looking around at the actors. “Anyone else? If you don’t like the way I do things, you’re free to go.”
A waifish looking woman with her hair in long dark braids hurried over with a bottle of water and handed it to Magnolia, who snatched it from her hand and went to her seat. The woman followed.
No one else moved or spoke. Sarah joined Molly and whispered in her ear. “That’s the second cast member who’s left today.”
Molly followed Sarah back to where they’d been painting, shooting Sam a smile she wasn’t sure he could see in the low light. The actors began to rehearse.
“Who else?” Molly whispered as she kneeled down and swiped the brush through the paint.
Sarah picked up a can and poured more into the tray. “Lenora Ray left earlier today. She was supposed to be the aunt but kept mispronouncing words and Magnolia wouldn’t stop yelling at her. It made Deb happy though. Do you know her? She lives at the seniors’ villa out on the edge of town, where Magnolia lives. She’s got a crush on Beau Harrison who plays the uncle.”
Molly