WORK
BY KATHY FISH

WE WORK IN THE DARK

We are the production crew. We handle the lights, the sound, the costumes, the props. We show up for all rehearsals. We arrive early and stay late. We work in the dark, behind the curtain. The drama teacher who wears too much eyeliner blows smoke up our asses. She has to. She needs us. She tells us every day. I couldn't do it without you kids' then disappears to flirt with Romeo.

We share cheese curls and cigarettes behind the school during the breaks. The actors whine about our orange fingers and our ashy breath. But they need us, too.

Our Juliet's a varsity cheerleader. She begs us for bottled water and throat lozenges. We chant, Romeo, Romeo! Go Romeo!' behind her back. We laugh so hard Mountain Dew squirts out our nostrils.

After midnight, we break into the school. We know lots of ways. We find the costumes. We deliver the lines. We are fresh and articulate. Self-confidence bleeds from our pores. We are so beautiful. We break our own hearts, we are that good!

We pair off to fool around in dark corners of the auditorium. But our fingers are thick and our breath is ashy. It feels funny so we don't go very far. We don't want to do it in a shit hole like this anyway.

There are reserved seats for our parents, but we don't invite them. We are mortified to discover our names, in calligraphy, on the back of the program. The drama teacher tells us the next show will be a musical, but that isn't until next fall. We wonder what the hell we are going to do until then.