Circle the Soul Softly Read Free

for sure, I knew.
    The bed had been stripped and pushed to the side. His robe was folded on top. The table where his meds had sat was empty—the prescription bottles and other paraphernalia swept off into a plastic bag tied with a knot and dropped on the floor. I felt like something had sucked my insides out; I remember wondering how I could be so completely empty and still able to stand up. I stood paralyzed—my brain registering details as my thoughts rolled themselves out in slow motion:
    My father is dead.
    I will never see my father again.
    This couldn’t have happened.
    It’s happened.
    I won’t ever hear his voice.
    I’ll never touch him.
    My father is dead….
    I will never see my father….
    â€¦and endlessly on.
    I knew right then there was no way in the entire world I could live through this. No way at all.
    Except, I did.
    One hour after the next, and then a day and a week, a month, a year, and now—just about exactly two.

FIVE
    I’m cast.
    I’m Maggie.
    I’m in the play.
    The list is posted in the hallway of the theater. I cannot believe I am actually seeing my name—I check it five times. Nine parts, nine actors, one A.D.—and one of them is me . First rehearsal is this afternoon.
    All day long, I’m new. Nothing can bother me. I don’t care if people talk to me or if I have a place to sit at snack. I kinda like that I get a dirty look from two older girls walking by, because I remember them from the audition. At snack Layla says, “Congratulations.” My hippie-biker science teacher pats me on the shoulder and tells me he heard I got into the play. I go to the theater at lunch to pick up my script. Tess gives me a huge hug. I manage the entire day without running into anything. At three fifteen, I’m sitting in a circle with six other kids I don’t know, and the Hollywood Three.
    â€œKeep it simple and keep it true, ”Tess warns. She twists her long hair into a knot in the back of her head and sticks a pencil through.“This play cannot be melodramatic. Find the humor.”
    â€œRight, that should be easy,” says David, the guy playing my husband.
    I don’t know the play, but I laugh with everyone else.We read. I am taken into the story so completely it’s hard to believe almost two hours go by before we close our scripts.
    â€œDamn,Tess,” Jake says.“We’re doing a play on death.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” David argues.
    â€œEverybody’s dying, dawg, what do you think it’s about?” Jake challenges him.
    â€œLife, basically.”
    I don’t say anything, but I agree with David.
    Rehearsal’s over, and I have time to be amazed at how good all the actors are. I can’t help but smile at them as we pack up. Everybody but Stacey smiles back. She obviously doesn’t like that I got into the play, and right now I don’t particularly care. The girl playing Layla’s mother introduces herself—her name is Frazier. David tells me I’m an amazing actor and offers me a ride home. He figures we should get to know each other since we’re going to be husband and wife. The assistant director hands us each a rehearsal schedule, and Tess gives me a hug as we leave.
    In the car David explains he’s been at this school for three years and that he had mono in tenth grade, which is why he’s in eleventh grade now instead of twelfth. I tell him my life story, at least the part about my mom getting remarried to a Beverly Hills accountant and us moving into a huge house in Brentwood. He asks if I miss all my friends from Santa Rosa. I lie and tell him yes, and then I make him laugh by describing my asshole brother. I figure talking about my dad can wait
until I know him better. He offers me a ride to school in the morning, since he only lives four blocks away. I say sure and we pull up in front of my house.
    I have to blink a couple times before