I’ve been meaning to make some sort of grand announcement here about the Godspell performance that my son and I are going to be a part of this fall. (November 3,4,5,10,11,12) More on that later.
So, last night we had our rehearsal at the Tewksbury State Hospital. Sounds strange, but they did have a great stage, and it was wonderful to have a whole stage to move around on, instead of a church basement. (Actually our stage movement wasn’t all that wonderful, as our fearless director kindly pointed out to us – but that’s another story.)
I find the place relatively OK. Luckily a few other cast members arrived at the same time, so we could walk in together. Confusion is best when shared, I always say. The guards laughed off our earnest requests of badges and ‘signing in’. “Naw, there’s too many of you – just go down stairs take (left or right, I forget now) and there you are.” Easy enough, but then when one of our group preferred the stairs, so the guards said, “OK fine, but take (right instead of left – or whatever) or else you’ll end up in the morgue.
Ah, the morgue. Now there’s a grand place to visit, if you’re a coroner. For the rest of us, not so much. We all made jokes, but I know that deep inside, the ‘hospital queasiness’ that we all felt was just compounded. Shiver.
So, as we are trying to find the auditorium, we move past shiny, but queerly empty hallways. Scenes of Nightmare on Elm Street, or just about any other horror movie I’ve ever watched raced through my over-active imagination. I don’t know about the others, but I think I sang “Bless the Lord”, and “Light of the World” with a little extra vigor.
Cut to the end of the night. We stayed even later than usual, I’m guessing we reached the exit doors at 10:45 – give or take. So, it’s late, and it’s absolutely pouring. Pour – ing. As in rain. As in, oh great, all our stuff is gonna get wet now.
But after a minute of whining, Mike and I start hiking towards the parking lot. Of course, I don’t quite remember where I parked, and it is pouring. And – we manage to find a nice ankle deep puddle, but not the car. All those creepy feelings from earlier start to nudge their way back into my brain.
Where the fuck did I park?
Tewksbury State Hospital is not where I want to spend the night. Oh, whew, there it is. I finally get to the car, plunk everything in, and off we go. But, how do we get out of here?
Now, I’ll admit, I’m not the best at these sort of things. I try like heck, I really do, but I can get lost pretty easily. And it’s STILL pouring. So, I just drive where I think I need to be, and hope for the best. But my defroster is a bit glitchy, it’s not really defrosting. I have to keep pulling over because I literally cannot see anything ahead of me.
We drive on this very narrow, winding road. Part of me imagines that Freddy Krueger will pop out from behind some tree, with his crazy claws glinting in my headlights. My heartburn comes back, and my head aches. I kind of think I may end up near Andover, but when I finally reach some sort of civilization, I’m further south in Tewksbury than when I started. But I know where I am, and get home without any other mishaps.
It’s now 11:30 PM.
Mike heads right to bed, he’s got school in the morning. I take a shower and go to bed about an hour later, after unwinding from all the happenings. I actually fall asleep pretty quickly – but around 1:10 we are awakened by some strange cry. “What was that?” I ask my husband. “I don’t know”. Then I hear my 11 year old open his bedroom door. “Mom, I puked”.
Now, the real nightmare begins.
[A good place to end, as I still need to finish my Jericho review, as episode One airs like – tonight]