This is book two of a series. Book one is MY FOSTER MOM WANTS A DAUGHTER. If you haven't read it already, start there.
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Angelo's audition at the Arts School was set for two in the afternoon on Monday. In last-minute preparation, he rehearsed Hamlet's "To Be Or Not To Be" speech several more times Sunday night, each time finding himself more dissatisfied with how he was doing it.
Mary Elizabeth thought he'd done fine. Angelo knew the lines, it was obvious since he never missed a word during his repeated speeches.
"Mommy, I can't do this," he said after he recited the scene for the fourth time. "It doesn't feel right."
"What are you saying, sweetie? It sounded fine. You haven't missed a word."
"I feel I'm forcing my voice. It doesn't feel natural."
"It sounds fine, just like Hamlet is supposed to sound. Like a confused, crazed young man."
"That's it! I'm trying to sound like a man. It just doesn't sound right to me. I think I should be reading Ophelia's lines."
"Don't be silly," Mary Elizabeth said. "I know you've been talking like a girl so much in the last few weeks. It must be hard to change back, but you sounded fine. I could hardly hear any of that girlish lilt in your voice."
"Oh mommy, that's just it. I want to sound like a girl. I don't want to be a boy again."
"Well, you are now, again, and you know why. Miss Simms was pretty adamant about you attending school as a boy. You don't want her supervisor finding out and taking you from me, do you? I know I don't. Now read your lines just like you have been practicing, and you'll do okay in the audition, I'm sure." Mary Elizabeth hugged the boy and added, "Get ready for bed. You should get your rest."
"Ok, mummy, but can I wear the pink nightie? Just tonight?"
"No, darling, you know it's better if you're in all boy's stuff. Put on those Denver Bronco jammies I bought for you."
"Mommy. Just for tonite. Can't I wear the pink nightie? Can I, please? Just once more. I'll wear those. boy pajamas tomorrow night, I promise."
Mary Elizabeth relented, she felt sorry for him and decided to let him enjoy one more night. "Fine, just this once," Then, on an impulse, she added, "Let's put your hair up for tonight, too. I love working on your hair."
"Mom, I love you so much."
Mary Elizabeth knew she was probably wrong to provide even these few hours of girl time to Angelo. She had to continue to bring him back into boyhood if she wanted to keep him as her foster child.
When she saw the sparkle in his eyes as she braided his hair and treated him like a teenaged girl once again, she was elated.
"Look how pretty we are," he said, directing her attention to the mirror over the dresser. "Mom and daughter."
Mary Elizabeth kissed him lightly on the lips, twirled a finger through his long hair and let her hand follow down his delicate slender arm, full in the knowledge that Angelo would never succeed in being a boy, as hard as they might try. Yet, she knew they had to follow through on making him a boy. At least to all outward appearances, and that would require all the acting ability Angelo had. And well, it was apparent he had plenty.
*****
The Amanda Wilmington School of the Arts had been founded some 15 years earlier as part of the big city school system. It had been the genius of Ms. Wilmington that made it possible.
She had been a longtime theater teacher in the school system, eventually heading the District's drama program, and she foresaw the need of developing a School of the Arts that could bring out the talent of children from all walks of life, including those from even the most disadvantaged families.
Through her efforts, she persuaded the politicians that formed the School Board and the City Council that such arts focus in a school would not only develop potential artists, actors, musicians, stage production staff, and dancers but would create an atmosphere which would increase interest in academics. It would likely save numerous children in poverty-stricken neighborhoods from a life of despair, drug behavior and hopelessness.
Ms. Wilmington, a tall, somewhat severe-looking woman, was single-minded about her cause. A single woman, who still lived with and cared for her mother, Ms. Wilmington used every tactic possible to achieve her goal of creating the Arts School, and she was eventually successful.
The Arts School became everything Ms. Wilmington envisioned: so far, at least three graduates of the program had become Hollywood actors in movies and on television; a full half-dozen had ended up as fulltime musicians and several were performing with ballet companies across the nation.
In addition, the school became a jewel of the city's school system in academics and the percentage of graduates entering college was highest in the city.
Originally, the school had been a strictly 9th-12th-grade high school, but three years ago the state, after seeing how successful the school was becoming, granted enough money for the school to build another wing and add eight new teachers. Last year the school expanded their enrollment to include 7th and 8th grades.
Competition to be accepted in the school was always stiff. However, nothing about the school's appearance would indicate its successful record.
It was located in a 50's style two-story building, sprawled across a dowdy campus in a failing inner-city neighborhood. It was aesthetically uninspiring, built of the utilitarian concrete block with a faux red brick front.
Angelo was disappointed when he arrived, being driven to the school by Mary Elizabeth. "That's the school?" he asked.
"Yes, honey, but don't let its appearance fool you. It's a good school."
She looked at him, his short stature and fragility were so apparent in his nervousness over this audition. Despite the warmth of the August afternoon, he shivered as he sat in the car.
Earlier this morning, the question of what to wear had become the topic of a heated discussion. Angelo desperately wanted to attend this school as a girl and begged to be allowed to dress the part in female slacks and a blouse, along with girl flats.
"No Angelo, you're not wearing girl's clothes to that school," she said. "They know you as a boy and a boy you are going to be."
"But mommy . . ."
"There is no more argument here," she said, raising her voice in frustration. It was the first time she had yelled at Angelo and she felt bad about it, but he had to recognize how important it was to make an outward appearance that he was male. Yet, she had agreed to let him wear the dark purple, collarless shirt, which was emblazoned with a metallic trim. It was truly a unisex blouse and would provide a sense of artistic quality that might help with the judges at the audition.
He wore dark slacks, which were long enough to hide the fact that he wore pumps, with two-inch heels, as a way of adding height to his diminutive stature. Mary Elizabeth wanted to argue about him wearing the pumps since she knew it would cause him to walk in a most feminine manner, but she relented.
Now, as she was leaving him, to wait in the lobby while he entered the theater for his audition, she merely warned him, "Angelo, make sure you try to walk like a boy."
She kissed him on the forehead and sent him off into the theater then joined the other parents who were also awaiting their child's auditions.
"You have a lovely daughter," said one of the parents, a tall, short-haired woman with rimless glasses.
Mary Elizabeth looked at her for a moment, wondering whether to correct the women's impression. She decided not to, and answered, "Thank you."
For Mary Elizabeth, it was a tortuous hour of waiting, fearing that Angelo would not be accepted, perhaps because he was not macho enough to be a credible male actor, or that he would stumble in his recitation, or because of some unexplained bias by the judges.
She reflected back to the same feelings she felt as her own sons competed on the football field, suffering shame when they might fumble the ball or miss a tackle and constantly fearful that they might be seriously injured.
She knew it would be critical for Angelo's future that he be accepted in this school since it was the only one where a boy with such girlish tendencies might have a chance to be comfortable. If he failed, Angelo would be forced into the neighborhood high school, where he'd face constant bullying, teasing, and humiliation.
"Oh, here comes your daughter," said the tall woman. Mary Elizabeth had been reading an e-book on her Kindle and had failed to notice that Angelo had exited the theater and was approaching her.
She looked up and realized that Angelo truly did look like a girl, wondering how she would handle the situation with the tall woman.
"How did you do, honey?" she asked as she rose to great Angelo.
"I think I made it, mommy." His voice was high and excited and completely girlish.
"Congratulations," said the tall woman. "And what is your name, dear?"
"Angela. It's Angela," repeated Mary Elizabeth quickly before Angelo could reply.
Angelo looked at Mary Elizabeth with surprised but quickly broadened in a smile.
"Well, that's good for you," the woman said. "Did you see my son, Todd? He's a tall boy."
"Yes," Angelo said, sticking to his high feminine voice. "I think he's auditioning now."
Mary Elizabeth offered best wishes to the woman and grabbed Angelo's hand, taking off for the office where they would complete arrangements for enrollment.
"Did that woman think I was a girl, mommy?" Angelo asked as they walked down the hall.
"Yes, she did, right from the moment we came in, and I can't say I blamed her. I should have dressed you only in boy clothes, and cut your hair."
"Oh, mom."
"You still prance about like a girl, in spite of everything we've done. Everything we've had to do."
"I can't help it, mommy."
They were told to wait in the hall for a few minutes while the admissions office completed another student's enrollment.
"Mommy, the judges in the, they loved me. I did the Hamlet speech without any mistakes."
"Wow, that's wonderful, honey."
"Then they asked me if I had memorized anything else, and would I perform it for them. I said, I only knew Ophelia's speech, before she drowned."
"Oh, did they want to hear that, too?"
"Yes, mommy. I said it, and they loved it even better than my Hamlet speech."
Mary Elizabeth felt a knot grow in her stomach. Why, why, did Angelo agree to recite a female part? She was sure he had done that part with great credibility.
"One of the judges said, they thought I could do both male and female parts, and another said she thought I'd be a good actress. That's the word she used, actress."
The boy's joy was unbounded as he described how well he was accepted in that audition, as a female actress, and Mary Elizabeth knew that there were great difficulties ahead if he was to remain with her, and not surrender to his girlish ways.
"And what is your daughter's name, Mrs. Dayton," asked the admissions person, just glancing up as they entered the office. "Oh, this is Angelo Davies, Miss Joyner. He's my foster child."
"Angelo," the woman said looking up, studying Angelo a bit more closely.
"Oh, Angelo. You're a boy. I'm sorry, I didn't get a good look at you, dear."
"That's OK, Miss Joyner, I need to get his hair cut before school starts."
"Well, we have lots of long-haired boys in this school, but it would help, I guess to make him fit in as a boy."
Miss Joyner smiled, but it was a false smile, indicating she was not too fond of the less-gender-conforming, artistic types that filled this school. There was obvious disdain in her eyes as she viewed Angelo's feminine appearance and a cold, but most proper manner characterized the interview.
It was also apparent she wanted this to end as soon as possible, a view shared by Angelo and his foster mother. Mary Elizabeth hoped the teaching staff would be more tolerant.