Break A Leg

Hmm. Break a leg he thought. “Break a leg?! You break a leg.”

He was offstage left. The lovely red velvet curtain was rising and the energy was in the air. “Are my parents in the audience?” He thought. “Yeah they are in the audience. Would they want me to break a leg? If people are telling me to break a leg, would it be better to break two legs?” He was perplexed. “Do they want me to break my own legs? Or break someone else’s legs?” 

They were doing their thing on stage – what with the costumes and the mincing around and the silly speeches. 

Offstage left was a bevy of activity with Mrs. Koval and that tiny headset that made her head look even bigger, directing that teacher’s pet Suzie to help get us ready to go on at the right time. “What was this whole thing about again? Why do I have this staff?” Suzie was suddenly barking at him. “Get on stage, go, now!!!” As he was mildly hustling on stage he wondered if the headset was just normal size.

When he got onstage he started to again think about legs and the breaking of them. He imagined his legs broken on stage. No pain or anything just bent at right angles. Then he thought the same about Richard’s legs – bent at right angles. Both legs, not just one. With different scenarios: one leg broken above the knee, the other at the knee, etc.

Richard was the star, whatever that meant. He knew it meant Mrs. Koval and Suzie spent a lot of time with him and he was on the front of the program, whatever that meant. 

He was holding the stupid staff looking at Richard giving his stupid speech when he looked out and saw his parents smiling at him. His Dad gave him the thumbs up. His leg was at the right angle.