Chapter 2
636 Words
By the first week of June, at the beginning of a grueling month-long rehearsal schedule, a record heat wave rolled into the City of Plattsburgh—the hottest summer since August 2008.
Jace descended the stairwell of the Myers Fine Arts Building to the basement door leading to the theater department’s costume shop and dressing rooms.
As he pulled open the heavy metal door and stepped through it, he heard somebody humming a lively Olly Murs tune somewhere down the hall. As he ambled further along the basement’s chilly corridor, Jace glimpsed a beautiful black man walk out from the dimly lit hallway of designer Marlene Kelly’s costume shop, gesturing with his hands, and stabbing the air with his forefingers in accompaniment to the song he was singing. Then he saw Jace.
“Yo.” The guy stopped singing.
Jace stared at the gorgeous man and grinned. “Hi. Sorry if I startled you.”
The guy strolled over to Jace. In a loud, surprised voice, he asked, “Can I help you?”
Jace watched as the handsome guy mopped at the sweat on his face with a handkerchief, even though the temperature was reasonably cool in the basement. His dreadlocks hung shoulder-length from beneath a Red Sox bandana. Both of his ears were studded with small diamonds.
Jace flashed him what he hope was a charismatic grin. He fiddled with the half-dozen jelly bracelets along his left wrist and glanced up at the well-built guy towering over him. “Maybe,” he said, nervously. “I seem to have gotten lost. I’m looking for Professor Dixon.” He shoved his hands under his armpits.
Jace watched as the guy placed both of his meaty hands on his hips. Ropey cords of muscle rippled up and down both arms. His hands are the size of baseball mitts, Jace thought. Workman’s hands.
“The director of A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” the guy asked.
Feeling as if he was caught staring, Jace looked away from the student, and directed his wayward gaze to the colorful costumes hanging around him. “Um, yeah. I was told she might be down here.”
“In this heat, I’d want to be down here too. It’s hellish out there.”
Jace nodded. “I hear it’s going to be a scorcher.”
The student smiled and stuck his hand out between them. “I’m Germain, by the way.”
Jace gazed at him coyly. Gripped his hand. “Jace.”
“I was just putting away the sets for the show. They’re all painted and assembled.”
“So you’re working on the summer theater production? Sounds like fun.”
“Some days more so than others.” He laughed. “I prefer to be behind the scenes. I was just waiting for the theater technical director to come and release me from my duties.”
“I’d be content hidden away down here from the nauseating heat.”
“Yeah. I usually prefer summers. But you’re right. This weather is unbearable. Not fit for man or beast. You from here?”
Jace nodded. “Born and raised. You?”
“Albany.”
“Cities are too busy for me, but I like visiting,” Jace replied.
“I like a faster paced life. Plattsburgh is a neat place, though. Interesting people.”
“Plattsburgh is a bit lax, if you ask me.”
“No argument here.”
Jace smiled and couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s handsome face.
Those eyes!
“What about you?” Germain asked, rocking back and forth on his Crocs.
“Are you in the show?”
Jace nodded shyly. “I’m Robin Goodfellow—Puck.”
“You’ll make a great fairy.”
Jace tried hard not to laugh. “I don’t know why I auditioned for this play. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m nervous as hell. The language is tough.”
“Sounds like you have your work cut out for you.”
“Yeah. I guess.” He shrugged. “I wanted to try something different.”
“Have you ever been in theater before?”
Headshake.
“You’ll do fine, Jace.”
Jace stared into Germain’s muddy brown eyes. Damn. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Professor Dixon’s office is on the first floor.”
“I appreciate it,” Jace said.
Pivoting on his heels, Jace turned and ambled towards the exit. Before he gripped the knob and swung the door open, he turned around slowly to glimpse Germain one more time. “By the way, you have a great voice,” Jace said.
An honest voice.
Germain waved and smiled. “Thanks, man.”
Jace stepped into the sticky heat of the stairwell and climbed to the first floor. The door slammed shut behind him, clapping like thunder.
- Writer
