“Good. Now let’s all bend forward and touch our toes, very good. You too, Grace.”
But Grace just stands there next to me, watching me fold forward, watching me reach down, watching me sigh with pleasure as my fingers touch the tips of my boots easily, so easy.
“Really reach down and touch those tips. Wow. Doesn’t that feel amazing? So amazing, am I right? That stretch. Wow wow wow so good. Now let’s reach up. Up, up, up and touch the sky, shall we? Touch the sun, that’s it. Can you touch the sun? See if you can stretch up to the sky with your arms and touch the actual sun. Oh fuck yes. Feels fucking wonderful, am I right?”
“Miranda,” Grace whispers.
“How your arms just love it. They want to stretch up, they want the sun. Which is not so weak anymore, is it? Not so pale and glimmering dully behind the clouds, but bright and bold and fierce, isn’t it? So bright it’ll burn your eyes out, am I right, Grace?”
Grace just looks at me. Her arms are still folded in front of her chest.
“Okay, drop your arms back down, arms back down,” I tell them. “Now we’re going to shake it out. Shake everything, that’s it. Hands, arms, legs, head, hips. Really shake them, don’t be afraid.”
We all shake together. We shake and we shake and we shake. I shake with them. I’m with them every step of the way these days. I’m shaking and shaking and shaking. My limbs, my head, I really get into it with them. I’m jumping up and down, up and down, to show them how to shake. Hopping on one leg while shaking the other. And as I’m shaking, I’m laughing again because it’s just so, so fun—“Isn’t this so fun?” I ask them—as I shake and shake and shake.
“Yes, Professor,” they huff.
I ask them is that all they have, really? Really? Oh, I don’t believe it. I tell them to go faster, wilder! Really let loose! Lose yourself in it! Like you’re trying to shake off your actual flesh. Arms, legs, head, hips, yes! Like you’re possessed. Full of demons. The only way out is to shake, shake them out. Shake them free, you’re free. Oh, it feels wonderful doesn’t it? Exhilarating to move like this, am I right? Blood flowing. Air going. Cobwebs swept away. Blood air cobwebs, blood air cobwebs, blood air cobwebs flowing going away, flowing going away, flowing going away, away, away, away, away away, away, away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away away—
“Miranda!”
I stop shaking. All of them, I see, have long stopped shaking. They’re all just looking at me in quiet awe. Out of breath. A sea of red, damp, panting faces. Gripping each other’s shoulders, clutching their own chests. A few are doubled over, coughing.
“Wonderful,” I whisper. “Now why don’t we play a game?”
“A game?” Grace says.
“Just to round things off, shall we? A little Zip-Zap-Zop?”
Grace shakes her head.
“A wonderful game. An energy-exchange game. Which is what theater is all about, really. Energy exchange. Am I right? All right, let’s begin. Why so hesitant, everyone? Come on now, you know the rules. You gather in a circle just like this, just like this, that’s it. You look at someone in the circle, could be anyone, anyone. You reach your hand out toward them. You look them right in the eye. You say zip. Or you say zap. Or you say zop. And just like that, you’re sending them energy. And they’re receiving it, aren’t they? And then once they have it, it’s their turn, isn’t it, to point? To zip or to zap or to zop someone else of their choosing. Sound fun? Oh it really is. I’ll get us started, shall I?”
I look at them all in the circle. All watching me with wide eyes. My gaze alights upon Trevor. Looking cold and sullen, his arms crossed. Really the only one who hesitates in rehearsal. Who seems to question me with his eyes though he rarely questions out loud. It’s more of a pause, really. More of a look he gives me before he does what I say. Like the other day, when I told him to kiss Ellie, go on. Ellie who is currently playing Helen. Just until Briana gets back, of course. Whenever that may be.
But it doesn’t say to kiss her in the script, Trevor protested.
Up to us, Trevor, I said, isn’t it, to interpret the white spaces? The spaces between the lines?
Now I point my finger right at Trevor’s face and he flinches slightly.
“Zip,” I say.
Trevor ducks. He actually ducks as if to dodge a thrown stone. Stumbles backward. Falls into the slush. I look at Trevor lying in the muddy snow and laugh. Clap my hands.