Mia the Melodramatic by Eileen Boggess Read Free Book Online

box from the back seat of the truck. “But now that you’re your dorky self again, we can get back to work. Do you want to get your makeup on now or wait until we get to the park?”
    I eyed the box warily. “What makeup?”
    “Your Playhouse Pal makeup.”
    “ My Playhouse Pal makeup?” I shook my head. “I’m not going to be Playhouse Pal.”
    “Sure you are. Jan’ll be too busy directing the kids onstage, and I can’t put on all that makeup with this scab on my face.”
    I stammered, “What about Henry or Eric?”
    “Playhouse Pal is a girl,” Zoë said. “Having a guy play the clownwould freak all the kids out. So which is it—makeup on here or there?”
    I stepped back, ready to make a run for it. “There has to be a mistake. Nancy must have hired someone to be Playhouse Pal.”
    “Of course Nancy hired someone to be Playhouse Pal,” Zoë said, grabbing my arm before I could escape. “And you’re it, Princess.”

    The Play Wagon was set up, the music was cued, the props were laid out, the kids were ready to go, and I, in the middle of a ferocious anxiety attack, was dressed head to toe in polka dots.
    Henry pressed the play button on the sound system, and happy carnival music filled the air. He pointed at me. “You’re on, Mia.”
    Nausea rolled through my stomach like a rollercoaster with quadruple loops, and sweat beads formed under my pointy hat.
    “Mia, the music plays for less than a minute,” Henry hissed. “You need to get out there now ! ”
    My legs were cemented into the ground. No way was I going out in front of all those people dressed like a clown.
    Eric motioned for Henry to keep playing the music. “Come on, Mia! The kids are waiting for Playhouse Pal. You can do this.”
    I shook my head violently. “No, I can’t.”
    Henry sighed and rewound the tape.
    Jan poked her head around the other side of the Play Wagon. “What’s the holdup? My actors are getting restless. Do you know how hard it is to keep a five year old in character?”
    “Don’t worry. Mia will be out in just a second,” Eric said.
    Sweat trickled down my cheeks like rain on a window, and I began to wipe it off before I remembered that my face was completely covered in make-up. I looked at the white, black, and red face-paint smeared on my sleeve. Oh, great! Now I probably lookedlike something out of a Picasso painting.
    Henry rewound the tape for a second time and the audience started chanting, “Playhouse Pal! Playhouse Pal! Playhouse Pal!”
    I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
    “Oh, get over it,” Zoë said, pushing me out in front of the stage.
    The kids erupted in cheers. The music faded and I faced my audience in horror. I couldn’t even use Eric’s trick. After all, who wants to imagine a bunch of little kids in their underwear? After a moment, the cheering subsided, but I remained as still as a statue. If I stood motionless long enough, maybe they’d think I was just a really bad mime and they’d go home.
    Suddenly, a soft voice came from behind the Play Wagon. “Hi, everyone, I’m Playhouse Pal!”
    I looked over my shoulder, searching for the source. Not seeing anyone there, I started worrying about my sanity. Maybe the pressure was too much for me and I was starting to lose it. After all, wasn’t hearing voices the first sign of madness?
    “Say it, stupid,” Zoë hissed. “Say, ‘Hi, everyone, I’m Playhouse Pal!’”
    I sighed with relief. Phew! At least I wasn’t crazy.
    Zoë said angrily, “Say, ‘Hi, everyone, I’m Playhouse Pal,’ or I’ll come out there and make you say it.”
    I quickly said, “Hi, everyone, I’m Playhouse Pal.”
    The audience immediately shouted back, “Hi, Playhouse Pal!”
    Zoe whispered, “I can’t hear you.”
    Out of the side of my mouth, I hissed in Zoë’s direction, “I said it as loud as I could.”
    “No, you idiot,” Zoë whispered. “You’re supposed to say, ‘I can’t hear you.’”
    I turned back to the kids sitting