How Green Becomes Wood

"If none of us are pulled onto stage, it'll be lovely." Dark said resolutely.

"Hey, speak for yourself," Daizi said, "I think as long as I have help getting on and off the stage, I'd be a lot of fun."

"And if they do not try to make you toss anything," Dark said, a joking tone to his voice.

"Yes, and that," She laughed, swiveling around in her seat to face her son, "Once, we went to a Renaissance faire, and we were in the audience of a juggler. I didn't get much out of his act, but Dark and Cooger said it was really impressive. It was getting to the end of his show, his big finale, he was supposed to be juggling flaming batons atop a unicycle, and he needed someone to toss them, before they were lit, up to him. He tried to pick me, and of course I said no, and when he learned why I refused we had a good laugh about it. Could you imagine how that would've gone?"
 
As Dark pulled into the parking lot, Daizi wondered aloud if she'd end up throwing too low or too high. "It's not something I try very often, it's not like I ever really got to participate in gym class, which I'm a little sour about. I probably couldn't play badminton, but they could've gotten a football that made noise when it was kicked. But on the other hand, it meant I never had to change in the locker room, I don't think it would've gone well for me."

"It certainly never did for me," Dark commented as he turned off the car. "And I looked ridiculous in the uniform."
 
Xander tried to imagine Dark looking actually ridiculous in anything. Nope, he could not summon the image. Logically, he knew Dark was a gangly teen just like any other teen - probably more so thanks to his height - but he simply could not imagine the guy who could pull off a lavender suit looking ridiculous in anything. He decided not to comment.

"If you could sport, Mama, what sport would you sport?" he asked instead once they were all out of the car.
 
When he was a teen, evening reaching 6'8, underweight, covered in bruises and bandages, many covering up his own private actions, at the awkward stage of body hair... He certainly was not pulling off the classic t-shirt and gym shorts look, he was all elbows and knees. And the worst part was being tall but skinny meant he had to choose between shorts that were as long as they were designed to be and shorts that fit his waist.

"What sport would I sport?" Daizi repeated, finding his phrasing amusing as she exited the car, "I'm not sure. I really don't know how most are played. I think a racket sport could be fun, or gymnastics, like what your friend does, although I'm probably too tall for that. Or maybe I'd do roller-derby. I bet I'd do well at that."
 
"The things that might have been, right?" Daizi chuckled, unfolding her cane before taking her husband's arm.

"You would be a force to be reckoned with, but you are so dedicated to everything you do, I fear you would end up severely injured," Dark commented, leading their trio towards where the event was.

"You'd still love me if my teeth were all knocked out," She said cheerfully.

"Certainly, because I am not a hypocrite," He looked down at Xander, "Have I mentioned to you some of my teeth are not real?"
 
"No, I don't think that's come up in casual conversation," Xander said mildly, "but I can't say I'm surprised."

A group of people had already gathered at the stage near one edge of the park. It was not a big stage, and it was not particularly well kept up, but banners and rugs and curtains hung all around it had managed to disguise most of the flaws and turn it into what looked like some sort of living room. A couple of people were still positioning the furniture on the stage and chatting with each other and one or two of the audience members.

"It looks like they are creating 'Grandpa's Living Room' on the stage," Xander informed Daizi. "There's a couch and a chair on either end and a coffee table in front of them. All facing us, of course, and I think the curtains are making halls to the back."
 
"That is why I am so adamant about making sure you and your brother see the dentist," Dark replied. For a long time, it was something he was ashamed of, but he had learned to cope with it. It wasn't his fault, after all, he was limited in what he could do to take care of them. "I never needed braces, though, they came in straight, so we have high hopes for Ivy."

"Okay," Daizi nodded, trying to imagine it, but her concept of a grandfather's living room was different from his, "That's interesting, somehow I didn't expect there would be a set for something like this."
 
"The walls are curtains, and I'm pretty sure the furniture are thrift store finds someone vacuumed really well," Xander remarked, squinting at them. "It looks like... Huh. Someone painted background scenes on the curtains. I didn't know you could do that. One wall is kind of crooked, so the lamp looks like its about to fall off the end table, but that's pretty clever for creating more of a setting then they could probably manage."
 
"Can you see well from here?" Dark asked, glancing behind him. A problem with having a son so much shorter than him was figuring out a place where Xander could see, but he wouldn't end up blocking the view of a dozen others. It hadn't been so difficult when it was only him and Daizi going to shows, because her sightlines to the stage didn't matter.

"I think they're called a scrim, and sometimes they're sold with designs already printed on them," Daizi commented, not knowing when or how she learned this information, "Theatre that's really scrambled together is so endearing, I think."
 
"Yeah, I'm good," Xander assured him. More people came to join the crowd, and the presumably crew (or cast or both) left the stage. "A scrim? Sounds like a fighting style or a weapon. Looks like they are getting ready to start. There's some people gathered around the back now. I can occasionally see one peeking out or moving around. Maye they should have added a couple of scrims off to the side."
 
"Some shows purposefully have actors move around and peek out," Dark mentioned, watching the actions carefully, "It makes the show feel less produced and more grounded, even if the actions of those people are scripted."
 
"Feels distracting," Xander said bluntly.

The MC came on stage then, cutting off any further conversation. He was an older man with a broad grin and a booming voice that carried over the grassy area despite the lack of microphone. He pointed out the small groups of wooden benches clustered awkwardly in front of the stage with plenty of space between each group but encouraged that since seating was limited (Xander guessed only maybe twenty to thirty people could sit at a time depending on how small they were and willing to share personal space) that those who could stand or sit on the grass or blankets should do so. Thankfully, the ground did slope slightly downward toward the stage, so those at the back could theoretically see over other people's heads. While everyone shuffled around to find their preferred seating arrangement, the MC prattled on quickly about the troupe, who they were, where they'd come from, and other plays they'd done in the past as well as upcoming plays. The season was nearly over for them with only one play planned for the immediate future and casting calls being made for future plays. Xander wasn't paying much attention.
 
Daizi listened carefully, leaning against Dark so she could be more comfortable, and he held her up gladly. Unlike Xander, they did both play close attention, even though they didn't think it was likely they'd see more of their shows or audition with them.
 
The MC thanked everyone for their time, and the show started.

Two older men - perhaps fifties - came out onto the stage bickering about something, being in the middle of a conversation as they climbed up on stage. Xander studied them intently, giving far too much intensity for two guys arguing about where to go on vacation. As they argued, a third man who looked about sixties came on. They added an opinion, and from the dramatic looks the first two gave him, it was clear they weren't expecting him to come along. The third man inserted himself smoothly, casually, giving vibrant descriptions of possible destinations with flair while behind him one man was miming killing the interloper while the other was attempting to calm him down.
 
As the action transpired, Dark did his best to whisper anything visual to Daizi without irritating anyone around them, which was always a delicate balance, although since they were all outside, it was a little less stressful this time, since the general atmosphere was relaxed and those not watching the show were also talking.
 
There was a lot of talking in the play, and the actors projected well, but physical humor also played a large part in the show. Thankfully, most of it was fairly easy to summaries in a few short sentences. The plot seemed to be the three men trying to decide about a vacation, but then it took a strange turn when two other people - a younger couple - came to them and, through the course of casual dialogue - revealed that not all was as it seemed in the neighborhood. There was a mystery afoot! The neighborhood was mostly made up of the over-fifty age group, and while not young, the older residents seemed to be moving out at a suspicious rate. Many were getting sick, but why? Young people were moving in, but they all seemed to be innocent enough. How strange! And rather trying on the suspension of disbelief, but all of the actors were charming enough that it didn't matter. They would even occasionally comment on random people in the audience while pretending to be looking out the window. When an elderly gentleman made his way by using a walker, one commented on how, "There goes old George on his rounds! He never misses, rain or snow. I wonder if he'll ever figure out that it was me rattling his trashcans that night and not a raccoon? I had to get rid of the evidence before my daughter found out I'd taken up smoking my pipe again." (The response to that was, of course, "Did you get rid of the interior of your house? Because the whole place smells like a tobacco shop! How are you going to hide that in a trash can?")

At one point, one of them pointed toward Xander. "Look! That young man there! I bet he could give us a few clues about Henry's so-called 'illness!' Young man, will you come here? I want to talk to you!"

Xander didn't move. He just glared.

The actor shuddered. "Did you see that, boys? That young fellow nearly set fire to my britches with that look! Kids these days! I swear, in my day, we didn't have nearly that amount of fire power. We had to resort to words."

"The sass gets stronger with every generation," agreed one of the others, nodding. "It's awe-inspiring, is what it is. When we were his age, we'd have only dreamed of being able to have that level of sass!"
 
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