Raising the Stakes Read Free Page B

improv team is together, happily brainstorming and acting out some scene ideas at practice. Mr. J. has given us barriers as a theme, so Mark, Vern, Nigel and Asha are on their hands and knees, Faith, Ziggy and I are above them, and little Hanna is kneeling on Ziggy’s back, pretending to be Éponine from Les Misérables , singing “At the Barricade.”
    Mr. Jeffries calls time.
    “Uh-oh,” I say, getting an idea. “Guys, all of a sudden my arms are really tired.” I begin to shake. “They’re starting to give out!” Ziggy and Faith both grin at me and join in, wiggling and making the top of the pyramid quiver.
    “Mine too,” calls Mark from the bottom row.
    “And mine!” adds Nigel.
    “Ahhh! Wait!” Hanna cries, giggling. But our human pyramid is already leaning badly, and the eight of us collapse in a heap of laughter.
    Hanna grins at me.
    “You brat!” cries Asha. My eyes flit to her face to make sure I haven’t roused her quick temper. But she’s grinning too. It’s good to be back with my improv family.
    Once we’ve recovered, I turn to Hanna. “Nice work!”
    “Yes, good progress, Hanna,” Mr. Jeffries says. “Way to throw yourself into the scene.”
    “Get it, Hanna?” says Mark. “ Throw yourself into it?
    “Thanks, Mr. Jeffries,” Hanna says, flashing him a grateful smile. She’s our team’s only grade-nine student, and although she seems shy and not very confident, she’s full of surprises. Like, she’s got this powerhouse singing voice that she didn’t bother to mention when she tried out for the team.
    “All right, let’s work through a few full Theme events,” Mr. J. says. “See what you come up with, and how you can make your strengths work for you. What do you need to remember for Theme?”
    Our two senior team members answer right away.
    “No puns,” offers Nigel. “Explore the whole idea of the word.”
    “Use our bodies to show where each mini scene takes place,” Asha says.
    We take turns listing reminders that Mr. J. has drilled into us. Instinctively the team begins to drift into a clump. We know what’s next.
    The huddle. The bond. The moment you feel like, no matter what your differences, you truly belong. A cluster of eight ordinary kids who together can do anything. Sounds corny, but that’s exactly how it feels.
    We get in a circle and throw our arms around each other’s shoulders. I look from face to face—from Vern’s serious one to Nigel’s eager grin, from Faith’s eyes, open wide in anticipation, to Hanna’s, squeezed shut as she waits. Energy zips around the huddle. Sure, it’s not the crackling electricity we feel at a competition, but we’re keyed up. Muscles are charged and neurons are already firing as we wait to hear whatever our coach throws at us.
    “Okay,” says Mr. J., “your theme is…strength.”
    That final word is like a gunshot. A jolt of adrenaline rushes through me. Mark is already spitting out, “Samson and Delilah, in the Bible. His strength was in his hair. She had it cut off.”
    “A circus strongman,” I say.
    “With giant barbells,” adds Ziggy.
    “Maybe guys impressing girls at the gym?” offers Hanna.
    We’re quiet but intense, speaking as quickly as we can, firing ideas into the center of our circle and trying not to talk over one another.
    “Obi-Wan telling Luke the force is strong in him,” Vern says.
    “Strength in numbers,” says Nigel. “like a union, maybe.”
    “Or an army in a battle,” Faith adds.
    “Or both.” That’s Asha. As our team’s best and most experienced improviser, she decides which ideas we’ll use. Always. I watch her dark eyes and serious face as she assesses each suggestion, nodding at some, frowning at others. I know she’s also planning who’s the right person to be what character and which ideas should come first and last.
    “Strong fumes,” says Nigel. “Maybe ammonia, knocking people out.”
    “Right, and covalent bonds between atoms, in chemistry,” Asha