A Walk With the Past

Chapter Two

“No, Tom. No. I need more. More!” The director’s irritated pace across the stage echoed in the empty theatre. “More pinash. More zest. You’re Puck, for God’s sake! Show some of that mischief you’re famous for!”

Gregory Doran was known to be a very demanding director. He was considered one of the greatest Shakespearians of his generation, and Tom was more than honored to be working with him. It devastated the young actor to continuously let him down.

“Apologies, Gregory,” Tom offered for the umpteenth time.

He tossed aside a white hand towel used to wipe his sweaty brow. Tom made nervous tugs at his fingers while walking back and forth across the stage and shooting quick glances over at Doran.

It wasn’t like Tom to be so… off.

He was always good at memorizing his lines, and it was easy for Tom to slip into his characters.

 But he was distracted as of late. Very distracted.

That woman kept showing up out of nowhere.

Tom caught a glimpse of her hat in a crowd as he walked down the streets of Stratford-upon-Avon after rehearsals. He pushed through the men and women to catch up with her, but just as the last body was moved from his way, Tom found there was no one there.

He saw her from his hotel window one morning. As Tom watched the sun herald a new day his eyes fell to the street below and there she was.

Same green coat.

Same cloche hat.

The lady was staring directly up at him, and Tom felt an icy tingle rush over him. It was the first time he got a full view of her face, and even from a distance Tom could see that she was indeed a most beautiful creature.

Reluctant to tear his eyes away, Tom wanted to call out to her but the window was closed. He hesitated just a moment, looked down to unlatch the window and throw it open, but when Tom’s eyes went back to the street she was gone again.

Day after day Tom was bothered by some vision of the mystery lady. It began to eat at him more and more, and the actor now found it quite difficult to focus on much of anything else.

Just this morning, while running over lines with some of his co-stars, Tom looked out from his position on stage to find her sitting in the audience.

“Do you know that woman?” he asked the man playing Oberon.

The fellow looked out into the dimness of the theatre to where Tom nodded. He squinted, and then turned back to Tom with a baffled look on his face.

“No one there,” the man told Tom with a tone that suggested he was a bit foolish for even asking.

Tom’s eyes shot back out into the theatre seats. Sure enough, they were all empty.

“Tom!” Gregory’s frustrated voice snapped the actor back to reality. “Act Two, scene one. From the top. Again!”

Doran’s arm rolled through the air with a dramatic signal for them to begin. From opposite sides of the stage the woman playing a Fairy, and Tom as Puck, entered the scene.

“How now, spirit! Whither wander you?” Tom’s voice rang out.

Four hours later they finally broke for lunch around two in the afternoon. The entire cast was in a somber, almost foul mood from Doran’s multiple tirades and verbal abuse throughout their rehearsals. Tom was especially downtrodden. He was blowing his chance to carry such a big part at the world’s most famous Shakespearean theatre, and Tom berated himself for his shortcomings.