Out of Breath

Chapter 13

My heart races as I hold the program. How could they do this to me? My increased sweating makes my face sticky. I hope I won't get extra zits from it. I rub the program across my face to dry off my skin. Why am I first?

I thought I was excited about the talent show, but not as the first person. The front three rows of the auditorium are roped off for the performers. They told me to wait behind the curtain as they introduce the show. I can't stop shaking in my hands. I wish I were sitting in the audience, not the first performer.

I am not usually the type to sign up for talent shows. I don't seek out grandiose attention as Clairlion does. But I realize I have a super talent, and I can't pass this opportunity to change the direction this school year is going in. I don't want to spend the rest of it as water-dragon-puke. The year has just started.

The curtain rises. WHAT! I thought they were going to announce me first. They probably did, but I had missed it. My palms are soaked in fear. I wipe them on the side of my swamp pants, but they don't seem to dry. These jeans have caked mud all over them. Maybe I should have dressed up a bit. I don't mind my swamp clothes but standing up here with the whole school watching me, I am conscious of how poorly I dressed, and for once, I wish I was in something new and crisp.

The curtains are fully up as the light blares into my eyes. How can anyone concentrate with such a penetrating, bright light? Its rays shove their way into my pupils with such force that it slams into my brain and almost knocks me down. I can't think. Why can't they turn the lights down a bit? I look out into the audience, and I only see the light. I guess that is a good thing. I will pretend my peers and teachers are not there. My heart thumps into my chest. The applause stops, and it's just them and me.

I stand as stiff as the statues in the Greek family's yard. They live at the far end of the swamp. They are a bit different than us, but different is fun. I like learning about other's cultures.

"Do something!" someone yells in the audience.

"Oh, it's water-dragon-puke." I know that voice. It is Clairlion. This makes me even more paralytic.

"Do you need anything?" A teacher to the right of the stage calls. No one else can see her. I look at her. How tempted I am to just run right off, but that would seal the death of my entire school career, not that I have much farther to fall.

I better do this. I turn around. I have a microphone head peace on.

"My name is..." My voice croaks. I clear my throat.

"Water-Dragon-Puke," someone finishes for me. Everyone in the audience laughs, not with me, but at me.

"...Is Tesla Vandukel. I am going to do a magic show." My voice echoes from the microphone. This is horrible. I can't think with it repeating in my ear.

"Now that is an original talent," Clairlion calls out. I know she is in the first three rows because she is on the talent show program. Why don't the teachers ever punish her? She breaks so many rules.

I rub my hands on the side of my pants. Why won't they dry?

"The first thing I am going to do is pull a surprise out of this box," I say. I had practiced this at home, and I had sounded pretty cool there, but now I just sound like the fool that I am.

I hold up a box the size of a ring box. I feel thick disdain in the atmosphere from my peers as they all wait for me to fail. People shuffle in their seats with lots of whispering and giggling. So far, I have impressed no one. I need to cut through their doubt. I am going to wow them.

With my fingers in the box, I pull up and stop breathing. Time stops. Nothing but silence. No sounds of restless students. I shield my eyes from the overhead lights and look out. The light's intensity burns a hole in my soul. Can't they turn them down a bit? With the light shielded slightly, I see a whole auditorium of frozen kid-statues. I love it! I wish I could keep them like this forever. To the backside of the stage, I have a trunk. I quickly head to it and pull out a giant turtle. I scarcely believed my luck when I found it on my way to the bus stop today. I love new pets, and this one joined me right in time for my magic show. I half expected him to escape, so having him still here is a miracle. With the turtle gripped tightly in my hands, I get back to my spot. His dark green shell has several rings. He must be five years old. I look for the two pieces of tape I had put on the ground just before the curtains had opened. They are to guide me back to my correct spot. I stand in a proper position.