When I was in high school, our floundering theatre department took on the task of putting on a production of "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown." Our drama teacher chose it because it had few parts, and we had a small and pathetic department. She should've taken notice of the fact that it was also a musical, and few of us sang all that well. In any case, I was Peppermint Patty. I can only assume that I was given this part because there were only two female roles, and ole Patty only had to sing one line solo. Lucy did a lot of singing, including an adaptation of "Moonlight Sonata," so it was just as well that all I had to manage was the line "Happiness is playing the drum in your own school band." The notes were awfully high, though.
Rehearsals were held at 4pm in the afternoons after school. Since school let out at about 3, that gave me some time to goof off and get a snack before play practice. So I'd drive down to the Gamewell Superette (or Buck Herman's store if the Superette was packed) and buy one 20 ounce bottle of Mountain Dew and a Little Debbie Fudge Round. You can get Fudge Rounds in those boxes of eight or ten at the grocery store, but those are usually the little ones. The ones that sell in individual packets are easily twice the size of the bulk-sold ones and they only cost a quarter. In my extensive research, I've found that the quarter Fudge Rounds are just the perfect size for enjoyment before you are overloaded with fudginess and get sick of them. My Mountain Dew and Fudge Round habit were widely known among my castmates, since I would bring my snack back and munch while we chatted in those first few minutes of rehearsal.
There was this kid, James, who was playing Linus' understudy. I say he was a kid, even though in truth he was only a year younger than I. But he was baby-faced and very shy, and I suspect that even if he had been three years older than I am, I would've still called him a kid. He was a sweet guy, though none too bright, and I had a good time with the fact that he could never get the line "assume the throne" right. He kept talking about amusing the throne. Even now, I've got this great image of him telling jokes to a fancy high-backed gold chair. It's very assuming.
James loved the theatre. He came to the show through our director, who also taught english. He was in one of her classes and expressed interest in being in a play. She was surprised, because he was such an introvert, whereas most theatre people are extroverted to the point of being obnoxious. But she gave him that small role of understudy and put him in the laid-back and welcome environment of backstage, and personality just started shooting out of that boy. He talked, he joked, he sang a song to a blue blanket. The real James decided to show himself after all. That's one thing about theatre people: being freaks themselves, they tend to be pretty forgiving of quirks.
James, ah poor James, he had a crush on me. His affections were revealed one day that I had to miss rehearsal, and he made some flattering comment about me to another cast member, a girl that was actually one of my very good friends. Perhaps James didn't realize that, oh, guess what - girls talk, or perhaps he wanted me to know. Either way, I found out quick, and then proceded to pretend that I had not found out. I was not interested and I probably was not supposed to know that he was interested, so it was better to leave well enough alone. He was welcome to pine in silence all he wanted.
But James could not resist a small opportunity to win my affections. On opening night, James brought in a big box of Fudge Rounds for consumption by the cast. The girls all giggled at his choice of pre-show snack, and I just blushed and pretended I didn't know why he hadn't chosen Moon Pies or Oatmeal Creme Pies.
James fell off the face of the earth sometime during my senior year of high school, meaning I lost track of what happened to him. I suspect he dropped out. I doubt he had much success with classes or his social life, and I think his home life might have been a little rough. He struck me as a fragile kid, and the theatre couldn't have been enough to save him. I hate that he couldn't be himself outside the theatre, and I hate to think that the sweet kid might've been turned bitter by the fact that the rest of the world wasn't so welcoming as the people backstage. Hopefully he found some community theatre troup to join and a nice little girl to settle down and buy fudge rounds for, the big ones.
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