"Anyway I succeeded," he tells himself. "Or at least I didn't fail." Why does it feel like a letdown?
The rarer action is / In virtue than in vengeance, he hears inside his head.
It's Miranda. She's prompting him.
On the evening before the final day of class, Felix purchases twenty bags of Miss Vickie's Sea Salt Potato Chips. Using a razor blade, he makes a small slit in the package of each bag, at the back, right underneath the crimped closing. Through each slit he inserts fifteen cigarettes, one at a time. Marlboros is the brand of choice: they seem to be popular. He can't perform this operation too far ahead of time or the cigarettes will taste like potato chips, and vice versa.
Then he reseals the slit, using a hand-held heat crimper. He's been doctoring bags of potato chips for the cast party of each of the plays he's produced at Fletcher.
He packs the chips into two Mark's Work Wearhouse carry bags and hopes for the best.
--
The next day, Anne-Marie meets him in the parking lot. She's attending the last session by special request. It's a cast party in a way, and as Leggs has pointed out, she's part of the cast, so why should she be left out?
"Thanks for doing this," Felix says to her.
"I wouldn't miss it," says Anne-Marie. "Freddie wanted to come too, but I said not this time. It's for the guys." From this Felix concludes that Freddie is still on the hook. Or that they are on each other's hooks. He smiles.
"Freddie's not jealous of WonderBoy?" he asks slyly. "Those scenes were pretty intense."
"You mean hot? Yeah, they were. But Freddie didn't see them, he was playing chess with me," says Anne-Marie. "Anyway, WonderBoy has backed off now. He's fine with it."
"Fine with what?" says Felix.
"Fine with it being just a play," says Anne-Marie.
--
The bags of chips sail through Security: who'd suspect them of containing contraband? Dylan and Madison, most likely, but if so they turn a blind eye. Maybe they think the Players deserve some reward for all the effort they've put in.
"That was a great video, Mr. Duke! That Tempest thing," Dylan says as he's handing Felix his security pager. "I wasn't expecting to like it, no battle scenes and all, but I really got into it."
"Yeah, everyone got into it," says Madison. "It was so weird!"
"You're right, Mr. Duke, there was no fairies in it," says Dylan. "That blue alien thing or whatever, and that Hag-Seeds rap number--they were wicked! You were awesome, Miss Greenland, ma'am. That Miranda was a stone cold fox!"
"Thanks," says Anne-Marie a little drily.
"What's in your bag?" says Dylan.
"Nothing sharp. Some chocolate cookies I baked for the guys, and just some dolls. You've seen them before."
"Nothing weird in the cookies?" says Dylan, grinning.
"Here, you can test them," says Anne-Marie. She doles out a cookie each.
"What're the dolls doing here?" asks Madison.
"It's a cast party," says Anne-Marie. "They were in the cast. In the video. You saw them."
"Oh yeah. Whatever," says Madison. He throws Dylan a look: ditzy artist. "Just make sure they come out with you. You wouldn't want them getting molested."
"They can take care of themselves," says Anne-Marie, straight-faced. What's she up to? Felix wonders. With the dolls?
"What play are you gonna do next year, Mr. Duke?" says Dylan to Felix.
"Haven't decided," says Felix.
"Well, merde, whatever it is," says Madison.
--
"A brilliant performance," says Felix to the assembled cast. "Flawless! It couldn't have gone better! A perfect example of the strengths of interactive theatre, an excellent demonstration of the practical uses of theatre arts, and"--he allows himself a heartfelt grin--"and, best of all, thanks to everyone here, the Literacy Through Literature program has been guaranteed for the next five years. The Fletcher Correctional Players are safe." Spontaneous applause, fist bumps.
"Whoreson fantastic!" says Leggs.
"Give yourselves five stars," says Felix. "Now a future generation of budding actors will be able to enjoy the privileges and acquire the skill sets of theatre in a hands-on way, as you have done. Let me add that this was the finest production of The Tempest I have ever mounted." Not for them to know that it's the only one. "It can't be bettered, so I will never attempt this particular play again. I have already congratulated the principal members of the cast separately, but I must say that, collectively, this was the most accomplished crew of Goblins anyone could wish for. Let's hear it for all of us!"
Modified cheers, more fist bumps.
"And a special round of applause for our plucky Miranda, Ms. Anne-Marie Greenland, who took on the role of Miranda despite conditions that would have compelled most actresses to refuse. She's a brave lass indeed!" This time, louder cheers, applause, and a chorus of "Yeahs!" and "Awesomes!"
Leggs raises his hand, receives a nod from Felix. "Want to say from all of the guys, thanks, Mr. Duke. You are the greatest. It was..." Under his freckles he's actually blushing.
"Fuckin' awesome!" says 8Handz. More applause.
Felix gives a little bow. "It was a pleasure," he says. "And now, your final assignment, for fifteen percent of the total marks. We'll hear your presentations on the post-play lives of your characters. Then we'll round things off with the cast party, including refreshments, such as potato chips. Everything's in order." He says this to reassure them that the cigarettes have indeed been safely smuggled in. "First up, Team Ariel." He gestures to 8Handz to take the front of the room, then sits down at the empty desk beside Anne-Marie.
8Handz is ill at ease. He shifts from one foot to the other, clears his throat. He's looking younger than ever.
"This is the report of Team Ariel," he says, "which is me, WonderBoy, Shiv, PPod, and HotWire. We did it together. We all put in some ideas. You guys rock," he says to his teammates.
"We were supposed to figure out what happens to your team's main guy after the end of the play. So, our team's guy is Ariel. I know we all said at the beginning that he's an alien from outer space, but we changed our minds. Like Mr. Duke said, this play is about changing your mind, and it's Ariel who changes Prospero's mind, from revenge to forgiveness, because despite the crap they did, he feels sorry for the bad guys and what they're being put through, once they've suffered enough, so we take it that's okay--to change our own minds."
He looks around the room. Nods, a couple of thumbs-up.
"Great. So, we decided he's not an alien from space. If he was that kind of an alien he'd need to be picked up in a space vehicle, or else he could get beamed up, like in Star Trek. So we came up with a different idea.
"We figure he's, like, a holographic projection. That's how come he can move so fast, go invisible, and divide himself up like that. It all fits, yeah?" He smiles. "You need to know what a holographic projection is? Should I, like, go into it?" he asks Felix.
"Briefly," says Felix.
"Okay, it's like 3-D, only you don't need the glasses. But if he's a projection, who's projecting him? Is it Prospero? Is Ariel coming from inside Prospero's head? It can't be that, we figured, because when Prospero says, 'To the elements be free,' and lets Ariel go, then he would just vanish. He would snuff out. That wouldn't be any way fair, after all the awesome stuff he did for Prospero.
"So we read up on elementals, thanks for the notes, Mr. Duke, and we figure he's a holographic projection of, like, weather systems. He's an air-spirit, plus he can do fire and water as well, so he's got a handle on those kinds of things. Like on the Weather Network, you can see those dust devils and waterspouts, and the way clouds generate electricity--that's where the energy comes from, the energy Ariel uses for all the jobs he does for Prospero. Because those would take a lot of energy, especially the lightning.
"So after the end of the play Ariel's not picked up by a spaceship, and he's not hanging out in flowers on a galaxy far, far away. Maybe he has a little vacation
, with the cowslips and whatever--he's earned it, right? But after that he stays on earth, and he flies off to tackle climate change. Sort of like Storm in the X-Men, only without the white eyeballs, plus he's not a girl. He's really happy to be doing that kind of work because he wants to help, he's always been helpful, he just didn't like being told what to do all the time, he wanted a project of his own, and he's got more of a soul and feelings than Prospero used to think he had: it says that right in the play.
"We think our idea is a good one, and it all fits.
"Signed, 8Handz, WonderBoy, PPod, and Shiv."
8Handz waits, looking nervous. There's nodding and murmuring around the room.
"Unusual!" says Felix. "Very inventive! Wish I'd thought of that myself." This is not a lie: he does wish it, more or less. Never mind that climate change hadn't been heard of in Shakespeare's day: Felix told them to make their own interpretations, and they have. "Any objections?" There aren't: it's the last day and everyone is in a good mood. "Full points," says Felix.
Happy grins from Team Ariel. 8Handz returns to his desk, receives shoulder slaps from his teammates. "Next up is Team Evil Bro Antonio," says Felix. "Let's see how Antonio's fate plays out."
SnakeEye swaggers to the front of the room, looking as if he's wearing an overcoat, collar up, and a fedora low over the forehead. There's an invisible gun in this picture somewhere, under his arm. He pushes out his chin, lowers his eyebrows, lifts a corner of lip. Is he still in character? It's hard for Felix to tell. In every part SnakeEye has played over the years he's always been villainous, almost too villainous. He skirts the edge of comedy, but he's never fallen over into it. He's the dark double of everyone in the room, and as such he's scary. The air goes silent.
"So, Team Antonio is me, naturally," he begins, "plus King Alonso--I mean, Krampus--and Phil the Pill, who's Sebastian, plus VaMoose, who's my understudy and learned the part better than me. All of these guys got to know Antonio up close and personal, so they have a true take on what he's likely to do once the ship sails off for Naples with everyone on board. We all wrote this, I only happen to be the one reading it. Thanks, Phil, for helping with the spelling, though I have to say you've got crap handwriting like doctors have, I could hardly read your notes." The tension breaks: laughter from the class.
"So here goes. The Report of Team Evil Bro Antonio.
"First, Antonio is the most hardcore evil guy in the play. You can't think of one non-evil thing he does. He's always out for Number One, namely himself. Even his plan to murder the King and Gonzalo so Sebastian can be King isn't done for Sebastian, it's done for Antonio, because their deal is that Milan, namely him, Antonio, won't have to pay no--won't have to pay any tribute, which is like taxes. So it's like a tax evasion, only with murder.
"But on Antonio's side, you need to add that it's partly Prospero's fault because he wasn't interested in anything but his magic. It was like leaving your car unlocked: he made crime easy for Antonio. So what can you expect, Prospero was stupid, he had it coming, though Antonio must've been evil to begin with or he wouldn't have taken advantage.
"But the more evil he did, the eviler he got; it was like Macbeth, for those of you who were in it. It was like the blood speech, right? 'I am in blood Stepp'd in so far that should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er,' and some of us know about that first-hand, right, because once you get going on a thing you think it's chickenshit to back off, and you need to finish it. Get it done. Whatever it is." Sage nodding from the cast, or some of them.
"Anyhow, no risk to Antonio during his first evildoings, because Prospero don't--he doesn't notice, he's got his head jammed so far up his ass--sorry for the language, Anne-Marie--he's got his head buried in the magic sand like an ostrich or whatever, and he doesn't see a thing. He's so busy with bossing around the imps and what-not and making the dead bodies come out of the graves--why was he doing it, anyway?--that he's careless about his own body, close to home. He admits that himself, at the beginning. He would've been better to act like Antonio: Never trust nobody. Anybody.
"So that's the kind of guy Antonio is, love him or hate him, and I guess you mostly hate him. But he has his own take on things, like everybody. So, he gets onto the ship for Naples, and what does he do?
"Remember, Prospero forgives him in a way, and we wrote 'in a way' because Prospero says he won't tell anything about the plan to murder the King at this time. 'At this time I will tell no tales,' he says, which means he'll most likely do it later, and then Antonio's cooked.
"Alonso the King tells Prospero he's sorry, but Antonio doesn't say sorry. He's not sorry. He's most likely mad as--really mad because he got caught, and so he won't be the Duke any more, and he could get life in prison or else his head cut off, the way they did with traitors like him.
"So he bides his time on the sailing trip, and when they're almost to Naples he starts up another plot with Sebastian, and they sneak into King Alonso's cabin and smother him. After that there's a sword fight with Ferdinand, who catches them in the act, but they win the fight and kill him because it's two against one, plus they cheat.
"Then they stab Prospero, because the stupid klutz has let Ariel go free by then, what an idiot, so Prospero's not magic any more. They go to deal with Gonzalo, who's halfway dead of fright anyway, but he has a stroke before they need to kill him, and he just falls over. Then they rape Miranda--sorry, Anne-Marie, but that's how it would go down--and they include Caliban in on the rape for extra punishment to her--raped by a monster--so Caliban finally gets what he wants.
"But then they start to throw the girl overboard so there won't be any heir to Milan, but Caliban hates that idea, he wants to keep Miranda around, rape her some more, and he tries to stop them, so they murder Caliban too. Stephano and Trinculo stay out of the way because they're cowards, plus they want to keep their jobs at the court or whatever. You can't blame them, they're like anyone.
"There. That's our report. Antonio acts like what you'd expect him to do, and Prospero doesn't see it coming because he never saw it coming the first time. We know this is not a nice ending for a lot of the people in this play, but we wanted to tell the truth in some kind of real way, and this is what it's like, this is what happens. Antonio is evil, what d'you expect? Thanks, guys," he says to the rest of Team Antonio, "for helping us stick to life the way it is, no sugar-coating." With the same defiant swagger, he returns to his seat. The class is silent.
"Excellent," says Felix. "You did a thorough job, and I can't say I dispute your conclusions, unpleasant though they are." Is there to be no mercy for Antonio? he wonders. It appears not. Shakespeare was not merciful either: after Prospero forgives him, Antonio is not awarded any more lines in the play.
"It's harsh," says Anne-Marie.
"Yeah. Life is harsh," says SnakeEye.
"I think Team Antonio deserves full marks," says Felix to the room. "Don't you?"
Nods and murmurs. The rest of them don't like this story: it's not a happy ending, and it contains no redemption. But all things considered they have to agree.
"What might save Prospero and Miranda?" says Felix. "And Caliban," he adds.
PPod puts up his hand. "The sailors," he says. "Maybe them. The Boatswain. He could do it."
"Maybe," says Felix. "It's not out of the question."
The class relaxes: a door of hope has opened. They like doors of hope. But then, who doesn't?
Felix consults his list. "Next up is Team Gonzalo," he says. "Bent Pencil?"
But as Bent Pencil is gathering his papers together, Anne-Marie strides to the front. "If you don't mind," she says, "I have something to add. I know I don't get marks or cigarettes or anything, but I've been a part of this production, and by the way it was a pleasure working with all of you, but I need to say I can't let this rest. Felix? Mr. Duke?"
She's requesting permission, but that's a formality: it's clear she'll get whatever it is out of her system in any case. "Forge ahead," says Felix with an indulgent s
mile.
"You're talking as if Miranda is just a rag doll. As if she's just lying around with her legs open, draping herself over the furniture like wet spaghetti with a sign on her saying, Rape Me. But it wouldn't be like that.
"First off, she's a strong girl. She hasn't been tied up in corsets and stuffed into glass slippers and such at court. She's a tomboy; she's been clambering all over that island since she was three. Second, ever since Caliban tried to pull that rape number on her when she was maybe twelve, Prospero had to have been training her in self-defense, in case it happened again when he wasn't around. By the time she's on that ship to Naples she's got a lot of fast moves, all the better because those puffed-up gentlemen wouldn't be expecting that kind of fight-back from her. She's got some muscles too--look at the way she was heaving those logs around so Ferdinand didn't have to.
"But there's more. Prospero already said that he educated Miranda beyond what other girls like her would learn. But we aren't told what he was teaching her, apart from how to play chess, plus she knows what a womb is. My guess is, it was a bit of magic. She's certainly heard about spirits and maybe even seen some, because she thinks Ferdinand is one, and she's aware of other examples of what Prospero can do with his sorcerer powers, such as keeping Caliban in line. What do you think the girl was up to when Prospero was having his afternoon snoozes? She was hitting the books--Prospero's books! Like father, like daughter--she had the gift, she was learning the skills.
"But there's even more. She has a side deal with Ariel. Here's how she worked it. You know that song you all thought was so stupid? 'Where the bee sucks there suck I, In a cowslip's bell I lie...' Right. It does sound stupid. But the cowslips and bee stuff was what Ariel said he wanted to do once he had a choice. So Miranda heard that, and she took the precaution of digging up every single cowslip on the island and taking them all onboard with her. Her entire cabin was filled with cowslips! And since Ariel had a thing for bees, she used the enchanted bee on her arm"--Anne-Marie rolls up her sleeve, shows them her bee tattoo--"she uses some of the magic she's been studying from Prospero's books to create the illusion of a whole hive of bees. It's like a charm for Ariel, it's like an addiction, it's like a drug! He has to follow her, help her out. Then he gets his fix: cowslips and bees."