A Walk to Remember

I glanced around the stage nervously.

"I'm sorry about those things I said last night,"

I began. "I know they probably hurt your feelings, and I was wrong to have said them."

She looked at me, as if wondering whether to believe me.

"Did you mean those things you said?" she finally asked.

"I was just in a bad mood, that's all. I get sort of wound up sometimes." I knew I hadn't really answered her question.

"I see," she said. She said it as she had the night before, then turned toward the empty seats in the audience. Again she had that sad look in her eyes.

"Look," I said, reaching for her hand, "I promise to make it up to you." Don't ask me why I said it—it just seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.

For the first time that night, she began to smile.

"Thank you," she said, turning to face me.

"Jamie?"

Jamie turned. "Yes, Miss Garber?"

"I think we're about ready for you." Miss Garber was motioning with her hand.

"I've got to go," she said to me.

"I know."

"Break a leg?" I said. Wishing someone luck before a play is supposed to be bad luck. That's why everyone tells you to "break a leg."

I let go of her hand. "We both will. I promise."

After that, we had to get ready, and we went our separate ways. I headed toward the men's dressing room. The Playhouse was fairly sophisticated, considering that it was located in Beaufort, with separate dressing rooms that made us feel as if we were actual actors, as opposed to students.

My costume, which was kept at the Playhouse, was already in the dressing room. Earlier in the rehearsals we'd had our measurements taken so that they could be altered, and I was getting dressed when Eric walked in the door unannounced. Eddie was still in the dressing room, putting on his mute bum's costume, and when he saw Eric he got a look of terror in his eyes. At least once a week Eric gave him a wedgie, and Eddie kind of hightailed it out of there as fast as he could, pulling one leg up on his costume on the way out the door. Eric ignored him and sat on the dressing table in front of the mirror.

"So," Eric said with a mischievous grin on his face, "what are you going to do?"

I looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"About the play, stupid. You gonna flub up your lines or something?"

I shook my head. "No."

"You gonna knock the props over?" Everyone knew about the props.

"I hadn't planned on it," I answered stoically.

"You mean you're going to do this thing straight up?"

I nodded. Thinking otherwise hadn't even occurred to me.

He looked at me for a long time, as if he were seeing someone he'd never seen before.

"I guess you're finally growing up, Landon," he said at last. Coming from Eric, I wasn't sure whether it was intended as a compliment.

Either way, though, I knew he was right.

In the play, Tom Thornton is amazed when he first sees the angel, which is why he goes around helping her as she shares Christmas with those less fortunate. The first words out of Tom's mouth are, "You're beautiful," and I was supposed to say them as if I meant them from the bottom of my heart. This was the pivotal moment in the entire play, and it sets the tone for everything else that happens afterward. The problem, however, was that I still hadn't nailed this line yet. Sure, I said the words, but they didn't come off too convincingly, seeing as I probably said the words like anyone would when looking at Jamie, with the exception of Hegbert. It was the only scene where Miss Garber had never said the wordmarvelous, so I was nervous about it. I kept trying to imagine someone else as the angel so that I could get it just right, but with all the other things I was trying to concentrate on, it kept getting lost in the shuffle.

Jamie was still in her dressing room when the curtains finally opened. I didn't see her beforehand, but that was okay. The first few scenes didn't include her anyway—they were mainly about Tom Thornton and his relationship with his daughter.

Now, I didn't think I'd be too nervous when I stepped out on stage, being that I'd rehearsed so much, but it hits you right between the eyes when it actually happens. The Playhouse was absolutely packed, and as Miss Garber had predicted, they'd had to set up two extra rows of seats all the way across the back. Normally the place sat four hundred, but with those seats there were at least another fifty people sitting down. In addition, people were standing against the walls, packed like sardines.

As soon as I stepped on stage, everyone was absolutely quiet. The crowd, I noticed, was mainly old ladies of the blue-haired type, the kind that play bingo and drink Bloody Marys at Sunday brunch, though I could see Eric sitting with all my friends near the back row. It was downright eerie, if you know what I mean, to be standing in front of them while everyone waited for me to say something.