In the Middle of the Night by Robert Cormier Read Free Book Online

the theater, Mr. Zarbor was talking to the six high-school kids he had hired to help out that afternoon. Although they were students at Wickburg Regional, John Paul did not recognize any of them. Four boys and two girls. His eyes were immediately drawn to a slender, blond girl whose hair flowed to her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, in sharp contrast to her hair. A pang pierced his heart. He was always drawn to impossible loves, those always out of reach: movie stars, cheerleaders at football games, lovely girls walking down the street.
    “Ah, you’re here,” Mr. Zarbor said, spotting John Paul. Then to the high schoolers, “This is your boss. He will be in charge for the afternoon. John Paul Colbert.”
    Blushing furiously, John Paul faced his small audience. He tried to avoid looking at the beautiful blonde, afraid he would not be able to speak at all. The four boys were tall and gangly, probably basketball players. The other girl was small and dark-haired and seemed nervous, clearing her throat, tiny hands touching her cheeks, her nose, her hair.
    Mr. Zarbor had rehearsed the instructions with him. They were simple assignments, thank goodness.
    Taking a deep breath, he told the four boys that they were assigned to general duties: watching the children, helping them find seats (some were only five or six years old), keeping an eye out for older troublemakers. He realizedhe was making a speech. He told himself to watch his contractions.
    “Don’t scold the young children,” he said, conscious that he had avoided
do not.
“They will be excited but will settle down after a while.” He had missed
they’ll
, had used
they will
.
    Turning to the girls, he was crushed to find the beautiful one stifling a yawn. The other girl stared at him intently, frowning. He concentrated on her. The girls would be in charge of the candy counter before the show started. Candy and popcorn were free but the children needed coupons to obtain them. Later, the girls would patrol the aisles with the boys, making sure the children were safe, looking for children who might have become sick. Who knows?
    The boys asked a few simple questions. He answered them without wasting words, watching his contractions.
    Ten minutes later, and forty-five minutes before curtain time, the children arrived in six big orange buses. They marched into the theater in orderly fashion, as if taking part in a parade. Boys with ties, hair neatly combed. Girls in dresses. Mostly young children, the oldest eleven or twelve. All of them trying to suppress their excitement but suddenly breaking ranks, whooping and yelling with sheer delight. “They go crazy at first but they settle down after a while,” Mr. Zarbor had told him.
    The hired boys did their best to guide the children to their seats and to maintain some kind of order. But order was not the order of the day. The children ran all over the place, rushing for the front rows, climbing over seats, saving places for friends, pushing and shoving, all in greatgood spirits. In the lobby, the two high-school girls worked frantically as the children stormed the candy counter as if it were a fort to be taken.
    John Paul was here, there and everywhere. Answering questions, giving directions to the rest rooms. Called to the candy counter to settle an argument: Some children had not been issued coupons or had forgotten to bring them. Others had five or six. The rule had been two coupons per child, don’t spend them both at once. The girls looked at him desperately. “Only fifteen minutes to go,” he consoled them. The lights blinked, once, twice, three times. He was wrong. “Ten minutes to go,” he told the girls. Mr. Zarbor had allowed ten minutes for the children to settle down. Which they did quickly, finding their seats, speaking in whispers, although a few could not resist throwing popcorn around.
    “Always a mistake, the popcorn,” Mr. Zarbor told John Paul as they stood down front near the stage.