“Are you going to movie night on La Jolla?” It was Saturday evening and Emily was standing next to me.
“Oh,” I said, “Uh…I hadn’t planned on it.” Actually, I had completely forgotten about it. “Are you going?”
“My dad can probably give you a ride there, and he can probably give you a ride back,” Emily continued. I nodded and told her I’d have to ask my parents.
Emily and I were standing in what is normally the high school building at our church, waiting for the 1st-6th grade kids to arrive for their Easter service. I was in full makeup and costume including what two of my friends had referred to as “a Britney Spears mic.” My friend was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. The usual. As part of the drama team I had no real responsibilities besides getting myself on stage at the right cue and trying not to talk backstage while my microphone was turned on. As part of service team Emily had no real responsibilities either. The extent of her stage crew role was taking a small, egg-covered tarp off of the stage before the worship band came on and stepped in it. Considering that the entire show was about an hour long it wasn’t very strenuous.
I noticed with some apprehension that a swarm of elementary schoolkids had arrived at the side of the room. A children’s ministry leader jumped up on the stage and began to direct the kids to their respective spots; that is, the area near which Emily and I were standing. Using my highly-tuned survival instincts, I deserted my friend and darted through the doors to the backstage area. There I joined my fellow cast members: Anil, Victoria, and Tori in a conversation about carrots.
Performances are much better seen than described. (Not that it was much of a performance; the skit I was in was only about 10 minutes long in total.) The whole show ran smoothly, with no bumps to be talked of; the endless conversation which took place backstage is of no consequence and half forgot already. In the end, everyone remembered their lines, the kids’ parents all came to get them, and I was left standing next to Emily and Daniel in the midst of the frivolities.
“Can you go to movie night?” Em queried again.
“I need to ask my parents. Can I use your cell phone?” Emily handed the device to me and I escaped to the back room for silence. After a brief conversation during which Mom and Dad told me I could go, I packed my things and said goodbye to Anil, Victoria, and Tori. I joined both Emily and Daniel once again, this time in the back seat of Emily’s dad’s Texas edition red pickup truck.
“Wait…this is a taxi service? Let me out, I don’t have any money.”
It was in the same red pickup that I arrive home in at 9:30 that night, completely exhausted from chasing little children around the neighborhood we were in. I stumbled into bed and fell asleep immediately.
Stay tuned for what happened the next morning. . .
