The Final Act Read Online Free PDF Page A

And this is only the beginning. We haven’t even hit the road yet.”
    “He’s flying out for the opening, right?”
    “Yeah. How about your mom?”
    “I sent her tickets, both plane and show. She won’t take money from me, but tickets are a gift so she has to accept them. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see me, but she’s used to not being able to afford things or take time off work.” Elena shook her head.
    “She’s so hard to deal with. The woman worked herself to the bone helping me through college, even though she thought majoring in theater was a mistake. Now that I’m doing well, she’s too proud to accept anything from me. I want to shake the stubbornness right out of her.”
    “Stubborn. Proud. Workaholic. Hm, who does that sound like?” Denny backed away before Elena could smack him again. “I have to get ready. See you on stage.”
    The smell of sweat, deodorant and dirty socks assailed him when he entered the overheated dressing room, where all eight male cast members changed. Denny had expected a larger space in a big theater like the Chicago, but this room wasn’t any better than dressing rooms he’d had in smaller theaters.
    Denny went to the costume rack to get his first outfit: jeans, a shirt and Richard’s trademark vest.
    The costumes were generic casual wear, undated to give the story a timeless appeal. Denny appreciated the comfortable clothes. One summer he’d been in a period drama wearing a three-piece wool suit in a non-air-conditioned theater under searing stage lights. He’d sweated off pounds every performance.
    The four chorus members, Rick, Chris, Tanner and Max, were already dressed and playing cards at a table littered with pop cans and chip bags.
    Michael sat with his chair tilted back on two legs and his heels propped on another chair, his arms crossed over his chest. Logan, who played Zach, the zealous anarchist, sat across from him, playing a handheld video game.
    “Hey, buddy. We’re going out after rehearsal today. You in?” Logan looked up from his Game Boy.
    “Sure.” Denny pulled off his shirt and donned Richard’s, trying to mentally assume the character’s traits as well. It was an exercise he’d learned in a theater class: put on the costume and take on the character. It was kind of Psych 101, but it worked for Denny.
    I am Richard. I’m nineteen and I believe I can change the world. I drink and smoke too much and spend more time talking with my friends about social issues than actually accomplishing anything. I’m in love with Kathleen, who wants my best friend, Aaron. I’m passionate and feel deeply, with a young person’s sense of experiencing everything for the first time. I’m convinced no one ever loved this strongly or was so committed to changing the world as I am .
    “You going through your list of Richard?” Michael’s voice shimmered with suppressed laughter. He didn’t believe in method acting and claimed he did nothing special to prepare. Dressed for the first scene in jeans and T-shirt, he looked as he did every day.
    “Hey, man, not everybody can pull real tears out of their ass every night on demand,” Logan said. “Some people have to work to get their head in the right place. Not me, obviously”—he indicated the Game Boy in his hands—“but some of us.”
    The exit door opened, letting in a breeze and Bill Manning, smelling of fresh air and cigarette smoke. “What’d I miss?”
    “Hey, there he is, Bill-as-Bill.” Denny shucked out of his own jeans and picked up his costume jeans. The change seemed kind of pointless.
    “Hi, Dennis.” Bill took off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. “Are you ever going to drop that? It left funny behind six exits back.”
    “I think it’s funny,” Logan said, setting the Game Boy on the table. “Not only is your real name your character name, amusing enough, but they don’t bother to give you a last name. You’re just Bill-who-dies-young.”
    “If this was Star