The Pineville Heist Read Free Page B

gentleman. He wore baggy skater clothing, and his shaggy dirty blonde hair hung in his eyes. Out of character, every move he made was slow and indecisive, but when immersed in his role, Mike became a quick, decisive leader.
    Pete had stepped in as Hamlet in Aaron's absence, and he was a poor replacement. Perhaps to challenge the name given him, Peter George Cornelius III, Pete outfitted himself entirely in black and was poked full of more holes than seemingly possible. Three lip rings, a bull nose ring, two eyebrow barbells above each brow, and one large gauge lobe stretcher in each ear were the more prominent piercings, but he boasted of others in places no one–except maybe his girlfriend -wanted to see.
    Pete breathed an audible sigh of relief as Aaron approached to take back the Hamlet role. “Thank God, man. Miss Becker is a slave driver,” Pete said as he left the stage, winking exaggeratedly and blowing kisses at Miss Becker as he took his seat next to his equally holey girlfriend, Charlotte.
    The class laughed at Pete's antics, and Miss Becker hushed the class. “That's enough class. Let's get down to work. We only have a few days until opening day, and we still haven't gone through the entire dress rehearsal.”
    Miss Becker turned her attention to Aaron and Mike. “Ready to take it from the top of Hamlet's death encounter?”
    Mike nodded and threw himself into the Horatio role before Aaron could respond. “Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. Here's yet some liquor left.”
    Aaron jumped in, saying, “As thou'rt a man, give me the cup. Let go; by God. I'll have't—”
    “By heaven,” Amanda interrupted.
    “What?” asked Aaron.
    “As thou'rt a man, give me the cup. Let go, by heaven. I'll have't,” Amanda corrected.
    “Oh. Okay,” said Aaron. “By heaven. I'll have't. Oh good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, absent thee from…from…from…”
    Aaron began thumbing through his sodden book while the students around him whispered. He tossed his book aside in frustration and plucked Mike's from his hands. Aaron furiously sought the line, and when he found it, he forcefully pointed at the line in the book and yelled “Felicity!”
    “Aaron, are you prepared for Monday's opening?” Amanda asked, her brow furrowed in concern. “Pete can always step in as understudy.”
    Aaron glanced at Pete, who looked as horror-stricken as if he'd been offered up as a sacrifice to the Gods. “No, I know my lines,” Aaron said quickly. “I just blanked on 'Felicity'.” Aaron paused a moment before continuing. “Will you be there Monday to prompt lines if we get stuck?”
    Amanda opened her mouth to answer just as a loud rattling cough erupted from the doorway. Amanda looked to the interruption in relief. Sheriff Jay Tremblay was standing there, filling out the doorframe. Even at 54-years-old, he cast a terrifying silhouette, with his tall looming stature, domed bald head and untamed black moustache draped over his crookedmouth. Having caught Amanda's attention, he adjusted the fit of his hat and checked the holster strap over his Colt 45 pistol.
    “Alright, gang, put away your scripts and props and listen up. Sheriff Tremblay has been kind enough to drop by and give us a few words,” Amanda said, clapping her hands together.
    Aaron and the other cast members quickly took their seats. Amanda nodded her head for Tremblay to proceed.
    Tremblay looked around the various boys and girls, as if he were scanning them for criminal records, or even inclinations of criminal activity. He raised his furry, graying eyebrows, like a pair of caterpillars growling at each other as they battle for the coveted position of the bare skin in between the eyes. Then, with another rattling cough, he finally spoke, “Don't take drugs.”
    A geeky student, complete with black glasses, braces and acne, let out an unfortunate