The Phantom of Oz, Installment #7
Plus the cutest dog in the world
Hello! Welcome to Installment #7 of my weekly serialization of The Phantom of Oz. If you missed earlier chapters, you can read Installment #1 here, Installment #2 here, Installment #3 here, Installment #4 here, Installment #5 here , or Installment #6 here.
I am still sick so this installment is a little light on the extra fun stuff. As I mentioned in the last installment, I was sick during the writing of Phantom, too (I’m beginning to wonder about curses and ghosts). I was also late delivering the book, for the first time ever. One of the reasons was my illness, but the other was a nicer reason. We had just rescued a little terrier, who was so anxious that he wouldn’t settle down unless I was paying attention to him. We finally hit a rhythm, and I am happy to report that he is now my muse, encouraging me to write so that he can sit close by.
And now, on to The Phantom of Oz. Happy reading!
Chapter 6
Am I Supposed to Have an Infectious Disease?
“Meet me for lunch?” said the text from Matt.
I wanted to. Near-death experiences make you want to pull everyone you love close. I was grateful I’d been able to spend some time with my brother and Uncle Bob but really wished I could see Matt too. I’d had a long talk on the phone with him last night, but that wasn’t the same as being with him in person.
But I couldn’t do it right now. “I need to try to see Candy,” I texted back. I told him last night that I was worried about her. The conversation had been awkward. I loved them both, but I didn’t like to think about them dating.
“Okay,” came Matt’s reply. “XOXO.”
I texted Candy. Again. “I have an hour for lunch. Sound good?”
This time the reply came right away. “Sorry. Can’t make it.”
“Dinner before my show?”
“Sorry.”
“See my show tonight? I could get you a ticket.”
“Sorry. I—”
I didn’t wait to read the rest of the reply but rang Candy right then. She didn’t pick up. “Candy, you just texted me. I know you’re there,” I said to her voicemail. “Call me. I’ll be waiting.”
Candy did call—an hour later, safely after any lunch break I might’ve had. “I’ve been running all over hell’s half acre and back,” she said by way of an excuse. Southern expressions are meant to be drawled, but Candy spoke incredibly fast, like those people at the end of radio commercials. It sounded weird. “And I am so sorry we can’t get together later.”
I waited for an explanation. She didn’t give me one. “Why not?” I said. “You don’t have rehearsal or a show.”
“I do have a rehearsal. They’re letting us use Center Stage at the Berger this afternoon. We still have to finish a run-through with our new scarecrow. I guess the rest of the munchkins are going to audition there too.”
“Why aren’t you having rehearsal at your next tour stop? Seems way less complicated.”
“The show goes back up on Saturday. Here.”
“What? Where?”
“We’re going to be at The Grand Phoenician. The show is sold out. Everyone wants to see the place where the ghost made the chandelier fall.” Candy laughed, but it didn’t sound real.
“But how?”
“Guess the damage isn’t as bad as all that. They have to repair the ceiling, but they’re not going to hang another chandelier. Other than that, they just have to take out a few damaged seats and bring in some temporary seating. They’re even letting us rehearse onstage tomorrow afternoon.”
That seemed way too soon. Someone with money must be greasing the wheels. “But you have tonight off, right?”
“I promised I’d help with munchkin auditions, since I’m the kid wrangler.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“The Good Witch and the kiddie corraller, that’s me. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you. Not a lot of time to talk yesterday, what with the disaster and all.” She laughed that forced laugh again. It made my heart ache. What had happened to my friend?
“Okay then, drinks after my show,” I said. “We can talk then.”
“I don’t think so. Who knows how late these auditions are going to run and—”
“Candy.” I cringed at the tone of my voice. I sounded like my mom. I took a deep breath and began again. “These are kids auditioning to be munchkins, right? It’s a school night. How late can the auditions go?”
No answer.
“Candy? Are you trying to avoid me?”
“No. I’m just…busy. Some new stuff, maybe some new work. It’s good. Everything’s good.” Hardly. The longer I spoke with her the more I knew everything was not good. “What time’s your show over?” she asked.
“I can get down to Seamus McCaffrey’s by eleven.”
“All right. See you then.” Candy hung up. She didn’t sound happy that she was going to see me. Tough titties. She’d be even unhappier if she knew what I was going to do.
I was going to investigate my best friend.
Watch next week for Installment #8, Chapter 7, Very Curious Business!
And if you haven’t read the first four books in the Agatha-nominated series: