School Play

Kathleen Carries On Part 11 or I Need a Duck Suit

“The teacher said I gotta have a duck suit Friday,” announced Billy, a second-grader. “I gotta be a duck in a stupid play, Friday”

“What?” demanded Mother, feeling panic rise in her gut.”where am I supposed to get a duck suit?”

Fortunately, the next day was Thursday, payday, but where in the world do you get a duck suit? In a panic, she called her friend who had a kid in the same class.”

“Ruby, Billy has to have a duck suit Friday for a play. Where am I going to find a duck suit? I don’t have time to make one.”

“He’s not gonna be a duck. He’s gonna be a duke and escort a duchess in a program. The boys have to wear suits and the girls have to wear their best dresses.”

“Oh, so now all I have to do is come up with a suit by Friday.” She moaned, dreading the cost.

I am sorry she found out the truth. It would have been so much mote interesting if he’d shown up in a duck suit .

Too Much Drama

imageOne little boy in my fourth-grade class had to be co-erced into being into the school play, very much against his will, even though he had only one line to deliver. It didn’t make him a bit happier just before our big performance when the teacher reminded us all that we’d be in view of our parents, grandparents, friends, and neighbors.  We had to Continue reading →

You Catch More Flies

The school was buzzing about the play.  The community was putting on a play at the school.  The adults, not the kids!  According to Sarah Nell, the snottiest girl in school, her mama was the teacher’s best friend.  Her mama was going to be in the play!  Maybe my mama could be in the play.  I flew home at noon to tell the news.  Mama was shocked!  She squashed that idea like a bug. “No, I’m not going to be in a play.  I am not interested in that kind of foolishness!  I have more to do than get up and parade myself around in front of folks like I think I’m something special. Now wash your hands and eat.  You’ve got to get back to school on time.”

I was very interested in that kind of foolishness.  “Well, can we go to the play?  It only costs a quarter for adults and a dime for kids. They’ll have an ice cream social afterwards.

“No.  That would be close to a dollar for all five of us.  Our rent is three dollars a month.  I am already doing Miss Lonie’s wash to pay that.  We don’t have money to waste on a play.  It’s going to take me all day today to finish Miz Watson’s dress.  I need the dollar I get from that to put on the bill at Miss Lonie’s store.  I’m hopin’ there will be enough scraps left from Miz Watson’s dress to trim that dress I’m makin’ for you.  I have two matchin’ feedsacks saved back for it.”  She went on with her budgeting plans as my spirits plunged, knowing I wasn’t going to the play.  I dawdled my way back to school not wanting to admit to Sarah Nell I wasn’t going to the play.  I needn’t have worried.  She wasn’t interested in me, anyway.

The evening of the play, I watched the comings and goings at the schoolhouse enviously, as long as Mama let me stay outside.  For once, living almost on the school yard was not an advantage, giving me a prime view of all I was missing.  Had I even suspected what I was missing, I’d have grieved even harder.  It seems Sarah Nell’s mother was in the middle of the performance when Sarah Nell swallowed a fly, along with her ice cream.  Panicking, she raced to her mother on the stage.  Just as Sarah Nell reached the heroine, she vomited copiously all over her, bringing the performance to an end.  There was no encore.