Island of Lost Girls - Jennifer McMahon [40]
Holy Christ! Peter yelled. He rushed to the flaming cot and began flailing at it with his wooden sword. The sword itself caught fire. He waved it through the air, which only fanned the flames. At last, he threw it to the ground and stamped on it, the OSheas up and screaming, Do something!Do something!
The sword was extinguished, but the flames were spreading cheerfully along the cot. Peter yelled, Get water! and the OShea boys took off like lightning. Lizzy, who had dropped the mirror, the eyebrow pencil, and even her hook, in the dirt in all the excitement, led the red-headed boys through the woods, shouting, Water, mateys! The ships burning! The OSheas seemed relieved to be sent a safe distance away should any more flaming arrows come from the sky.
Rhonda jumped out of the window at last, grabbed a wool blanket from the other cot, and threw it on top of the fire. The smoke was black and thick, and Rhonda and Peter choked on it, but the flames stopped. Billows of dark smoke filled the stage. It smelled of smoldering wool, like a singed animal.
Peter walked to the edge of the stage, waved his blackened sword at the tree tops in the most threatening gesture he could manage.
Greta! he bellowed, his eyes red and watering. Show yourself!
They heard a cackling from a nearby white pine. Rhonda squinted up through the thick cover of pine needles and saw a flash of red.
Greta Clark, get your chickenshit ass down here! Peter yelled.
Come get me! she taunted.
Peter tucked the sword into his belt, jumped down from the stage, and ran to the tree. He hoisted himself up on one of the bottom branches and began to climb.
You could have burned down the damn stage! The whole forest could have caught fire! he yelled up as he climbed.
Better luck next time! she called down. Greta began to climb too, making her way up toward the top, slowly and surely, with Peter scrambling beneath her.
Youre sick! shouted Peter.
And youre the worst actor Ive ever seen!
Peter paused a minute to catch his breath and plan the rest of his route up.
And I suppose you could do so much better! he shouted up at her. What with your mom being a Hollywood movie star and all! He was nearly to her first perch now, but she was all the way at the top, swaying as she clung to the thin peak.
As a matter of fact, I can. I could act circles around you.
Lizzy and the OSheas came running into the clearing then, carrying buckets of water and squirt guns. They stopped at the base of the stage and looked up into the tree, to the same spot Rhonda was squinting at.
So why dont you prove it then? he asked. Be in our play. Peter was just below Greta now, and the top of the tree bent and swayed with their weight. Greta was quiet for a moment, perhaps securing her grip.
Peter! Lizzy screamed up. What are you doing?
Yeah, she cant be in our play. She just tried to kill us, said Malcolm, running his hand through his hair, checking to see if it had been singed by the arrow.
Rhonda just held her breath, wondering what might happen next.
Why would I want to be in your sucky play? Greta asked.
To prove what a great actress you are! To rub it in our faces. You could be one of the Indians. God knows you can shoot an arrow okay.
Greta frowned and looked through the branches at Peter. I dont want to be a dumb Indian!
What do you want to be? asked Peter.
I want to be able to kill someone!
But no one gets killed in our play. Only Hook at the end. He gets eaten by the crocodile.
Greta thought for a moment, reaching up to adjust the small hat on her head. She wore her bow slung with the string across her chest and ran the fingers of her free hand down from her hat to the string, plucking at it like an instrument.
Then Ill be the crocodile! she called