Fortune's Journey by Bruce Coville Read Free Book Online Page B

completely?”
    Fortune sighed. At least things were back to some semblance of normality. With Jamie’s arrival the troupe had decided to attempt a different play, since they were all thoroughly tired of The Widow’s Daughter. Though his work would be limited to walk-ons and lines like, “Yes, Your Majesty,” his very presence freed up one of the other actors to take on some larger parts.
    She glanced over to where Jamie stood at the edge of the makeshift stage, waiting to make his entrance. Aaron gave him his cue. Fortune winced as she watched Jamie bolt awkwardly up the steps, stumble, and blurt out his line so fast that it seemed like one long word.
    â€œNo, no, no,” said Mrs. Watson. “Here, try it like this.”
    â€œMadam,” said Mr. Patchett, “are you directing this play or am I?” Though he spoke softly, there was murder in his voice.
    â€œOh, what difference does it make, Henry?” she asked airily. “We’re just trying to get it to come out right, aren’t we, ducky?” Her second comment, addressed to Jamie, was accompanied by a squeeze of his cheek.
    â€œI guess so,” he said, looking very uncomfortable.
    Fortune could sympathize. She had been caught in the Patchett-Watson crossfire herself, and she knew it was no fun. Worse, it had been going on all afternoon. She could see Mr. Patchett’s usually good temper wearing thin.
    â€œLooks like your boyfriend is going to make a mess of things,” said Edmund, sidling up beside her.
    â€œHe’s not my boyfriend!” Fortune snapped. “And I think he’s doing perfectly well, all things considered.”
    Edmund gave her an evil grin and walked toward the stage.
    Wondering what he was up to, Fortune found herself wishing again that they had never let him join the group. Suddenly she realized her entrance was coming up. She lifted her skirts to head for the stage. Halfway there she stopped, surprised by an unfamiliar line. After a moment she realized that Edmund was delivering a fake cue. Aaron picked up on it, and sent the dialogue spinning off into nowhere.
    Jamie looked from one to the other, his eyes wide with panic.
    Mr. Patchett, who had turned aside to make a note of something, looked up. A puzzled frown wrinkled his face. “Jamie?…”
    â€œUh…uh…”
    He looked frantically out at Fortune.
    Aaron erupted in gleeful laughter.
    â€œIt’s not funny!” said Jamie sharply.
    â€œI should say not!” snapped Mrs. Watson. “Henry, you should see to—oh, never mind, I’ll do it. Now, look here, Edmund. If you and Aaron think—”
    â€œMrs. Watson,” said Mr. Patchett, “would you please—”
    â€œBe quiet, Henry. This is important!”
    Fortune caught her breath.
    Mr. Patchett’s face turned an odd shade of red. Without a word he stalked onto the stage. Silence filled the room, the kind of quiet that prevails before a tornado. Mrs. Watson’s air of grand control was replaced by a nervous expression.
    Mr. Patchett stood before her without speaking for a moment.
    He’s going to hit her! thought Fortune, simultaneously horrified and fascinated. To her disgust she found herself, as she often did, wondering how she could use this moment onstage. She shook the idea away.
    As it turned out, Mr. Patchett had no intention of hitting anyone. Instead he bent and began to undo his shoelaces.
    â€œMadam,” he said gravely, “as it is obvious you will never be happy until you have filled my shoes, I will give them to you.”
    As he spoke he slipped off his brogues and kicked them toward Mrs. Watson’s feet. The actress said nothing, but her lower lip began to tremble. Walter jumped to his feet. Mr. Patchett waved him aside and continued his speech.
    â€œFurthermore, it is clear that you will never rest until you are the one who wears the pants in this organization. Therefore, let me