The Glow of the Spotlight: My Journey with Rebecca

Rebecca stays in character through the whole scene, stirring a pretend potion in a big pot and muttering a chant she’s clearly making up as she goes. Her hair, half fallen from its ribbon, straggles over her face, and she peers at us through it with a glare fierce enough to pass for a real witch’s. She feeds bread crumbs to the pigeons in their cages, pretending the birds carry some kind of magic, and Benny hovers close by, still eyeing her warily.

In a small voice, Benny asks whether the birds could really help us if they’re caged up like that. I tell him not to worry, that these particular birds have special powers, hoping it’s enough to settle him. Rebecca doesn’t catch the exchange, too deep in her mutterings to notice. I look back again at Rebecca. She is creepy! I can see why Benny is frightened of the sudden change in his sister.

Then I look up and Benny is gone. I call his name, louder the second time, but nothing answers except the pigeons stirring in their cages. Rebecca drops her character at once, pushing her hair back from her face. Neither of us noticed him slip away.

We search the rooftop, checking behind the stacked, weathered boards near the door, but Benny is nowhere to be found. A cold worry settles low in my stomach, and Rebecca and I simultaneously remember Mrs. Rubin’s warning about the low wall. We rush over and peer over the wall to scan the street below. Wagons and automobiles roll past at their usual pace, with no sign of anything unusual, and Rebecca and I trade a look and both let out a breath of relief.

Rebecca guesses he must have quit rehearsal and slipped downstairs, though neither of us can explain how he’d have opened the heavy door unnoticed. She heads down to check the apartment and sends me to search the cellar, describing a door at the end of the hall near the building’s entrance. We split up and hurry off.

The cellar door is narrow, its metal latch rusted, and a musty smell wafts out the moment I ease it open. I call Benny’s name into the darkness below, my voice thinner than I mean it to sound, but no one answers. I creep down the stairs anyway, one hand on the shaky railing, wishing I’d thought to bring a lamp.

At the bottom, a thin ray of light through a tiny window shows me a shape huddled in the corner, and I hear something like stifled sobbing. I call out again, and this time Benny answers, and my heart finally slows enough to let me breathe. He’s curled on the dirt floor, head down, arms wrapped tight around his knees.

I kneel beside him and rest a hand on his shoulder, asking if he’s hurt. Between sobs, Benny explains that he knew the pigeons couldn’t help in the cages. So he went to go find Pasta to help us escape Baba Yaga. But when he picked her up, he got scratched. He shows me a thin scratch on his hand. I wipe his eyes with my sleeve and gather him into my arms.

Footsteps sound on the stairs above, and Rebecca appears, out of breath from running down the stairs. She rushes over and wraps her arms around both of us, and I explain what happened with Pasta. Benny sniffles and Rebecca jokes that we should’ve told Pasta she was to be in our play.