Page 9 of Intermission
“The London Academy of Musical Theatre. I had an audition in Chicago a couple months ago, but I’m still waiting to hear if I got in.”
“Really? The London Academy?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“A little.” I nod. “Freshman year we did a careers unit in... I don’t remember what class it was for, honestly. Doesn’t matter. Anyway, we had to research schools that offered training for a job we thought we were interested in. Since my job choice was,” I bend my fingers into air quotes, “‘Broadway Star,’ I researched musical theatre programs. The London Academy was one of the schools that came up.”
“Ah. I didn’t move to Kanton until eleventh grade. I guess I missed out on that assignment.”
“Not really. As assignments go, it was pretty lame.” I smile. “That’s cool you got an audition.”
“Yeah. It would be cooler if I knew if I bombed it or not. I haven’t heard a word out of them. Not a rejection, not an acceptance... nothing.”
Janey perks one ear and swivels her head toward him. She must have caught the same things in his tone I did. Frustration. Exhaustion. Sadness.
Like his wrong-worded song.
“I’m not the most patient person, I guess. I just want to know if I made the cut. Or if I should throw in the towel and become a... a pipefitter or something.”
“What’s a pipefitter do?”
He groans. “I have no idea.”
“If it helps, I thought you were awesome inGuys and Dolls.”
“Thanks.”
Noah scratches Janey’s chin, and she stretches her neck forward to give him better access.
“I auditioned for the London Academy once before,” he says. “My senior year of high school. I got in, but I couldn’t afford it then.”
“Your parents wouldn’t help you out?”
“They would if they could. My parents are missionaries with fivekids. I’m the oldest. Not a lot of extra money lying around. And there aren’t a lot of scholarships for B students wanting to train in musical theatre overseas, so... it’s all on me. And that’s okay. Really. I’m willing to pay my dues. I just wish I knew...” He trails off.
The silence is heavy. I lift it. “So... your parents are missionaries.” So weird. “In Kanton?”
“No.” Noah laughs. “They serve in the Czech Republic. We were in the States for my last two years of high school because my parents were on furlough.”
“I thought furloughs were for people in prison.”
“Yeah, they are.” He laughs again. “As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling—Sorry. Randomly quoting the Bible is one of the hazards of being a missionary’s kid. A furlough is what they call it when a missionary comes home to raise financial support.” He sighs. “Anyway, I graduated from Kanton around the same time my parents’ furlough was up, and I decided to stay here. I thought it would be a lot easier to earn money for school in Iowa, where I already had a job, than halfway up a mountain in the Czech Republic. But since I haven’t heard from the school, I’m beginning to wonder if it was the right choice. I guess my faith is failing me or—” He breaks off with a laugh. “No offense, of course.”
“Believe me, I’ve heard them all. But since Faith is actually my middle name, I don’t let it bug me too much.”
“You go by your middle name? Is your first name really embarrassing or something?”
“Not at all. Madeleine. I like it, actually. I was named after my grandmother.”
“Madeleine Faith. It has a nice syncopated rhythm. Kind of melodic. It’s too dark for me to know if it fits your face, but I’d have to say it fits your voice.”
“Thanks.” I bite my lip, warmed by the compliment, however oddly framed.
“Why don’t you use it?”
“Long story. Family politics.”
“Sounds interesting.” Noah shifts position to face me, cross-legged.
