Read Thank You for Ten: Short Fiction About a Little Theater Page 12

  *

  Out on stage, Stu Porter was trying to talk on his cellphone and direct a lighting adjustment at the same time. "It's still too bright Manny," he called up to the light booth. "Take it down about 25% or something." Porter put the phone back to his ear. "Sorry Doug, what was I saying?"

  "You were talking about the hallway I think."

  "Yes, of course, this dreadful, long storage hallway. Opens up into the house on one side and then into the green room on the other. And those stairs to get up into the light booth. I damn near had a heart attack climbing them. Have you ever been in here?"

  "Only as an audience member," Doug said. "I try not to look at how they make the sausage in other theaters. Running one theater is enough for me, thanks."

  "Well, I'm glad the rehearsal time for our actors won't go to waste at least…Manny, 43 is still blinking, do something please…I'm glad the rehearsal time didn't go to waste, but I'd almost rather have not directed if it meant someone could do the show back at Prescott."

  "You didn't tell that goofy reporter any of that did you, Stu?" Doug's voice sounded weary. "We don't need anymore bad publicity."

  "Relax," Porter said. "I told him what he wanted to hear. This isn't my first show, you know."

  "I know. I polished it up too, that's part of my job. Hope it isn't too dreadful for you, though."

  "George is a bit of a pain in the ass, but all and all the show should be fun. Audience won't know any better, and I can't complain about the performances, by and large. Just don't think I'd volunteer here again."

  "Next year, mandatory flu shots for all cast members?"

  "Brilliant. Anyway, gotta go get this light thing straightened out. Damn light board is screwy here."

  "Talk to you later, then."

  "Goodnight, Doug."

  Porter pushed the button on his cell phone. "It's still blinking, Manny? Do we need a magic key or something to get it to stop?"