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January 26, 2007 / TildeWill

There’s a Friday between me and Saturday

Aside from some disconcerting news at lunch time from my mother, today worked out to be story tale quality sans wicked witch.

Once upon a time, there was a fencing instructor. He was “crazy, charismatic, and chivalric”. One fine Thursday this instructor, Will, was joined for lunch by his mother as is customary every few weeks. Their usual meeting generally involved traveling the great lands of Lafayette to eat their meal at any one of the fine dinning establishments. However, on this particular occasion, they decided to remain at the dwelling place of Will, where he prepared a meal of fine Italian cuisine.

The conversation wandered, as it always does, from the goings on in his brother’s life, to his father’s work, to fencing, and everything in between. Will was particularly delighted when his mother inquired about the “date” he had eluded to in the email he had sent earlier in the week. “Her name is Blair, she’s a history student at IU”, he said. He secretly thought about her minor in English, and how he’s always had a fondness for women studying the liberal arts. He told his mother of the evening’s plan to attend the Jefferson Players’s Audition for Murder, a dinner theater type show that was to have some audience participation as well.

Will knew that the fair lady would be making a journey of considerable length to accompany him on this date, and that she would be returning to her home that evening as well. This was no small commitment on her part and he wanted to ensure she was treated with the respect she had well deserved. Will arranged to have a corsage made up in hopes that it would help the lady feel as beautiful as Will saw her to be. He was also aided by his trusty companion, Josh, who graciously accepted Will’s instructing responsibilities for the evening; a most generous act on Josh’s part.

Blair arrived in good time and the pair made their way to the performance hall. The trip, though not long, was filled with several stories of times gone past, and fond memories. Upon entering the dining area, much to Blair’s surprise was an old acquaintance of hers. Will followed along as she rushed to greet her friend and her family. They sat down and the show begun, though not as they perceived it.

The players joined them at the table, and others still brought them drinks with pirate-like zest. Soon the meal was done and Will was asked to do a Russian impression, something he has played with many times as part of his profession, but never for strangers. Mid-show, Will was invited on stage to “audition” for the role of a KGB officer. The role and lines were quickly explained and Will was ushered back stage to don a trench coach and was armed with a pistol. Excited by the prospect of being part of this production (and by the chance to elicit a smile from the comely Blair), Will forgot most of the instructions given to him only moments before.

The director waved him out, and out he came with a leap! “THIS IS THE KGB, RISSIAN POLICE! WE HAVE FOUND YOU MARISHKA!”, an excited Will proclaimed to the audience. He looked to the director, both for approval and guidance, for he knew at some point, he was to fire the pistol in his hand, but he did not know when. The director’s face quickly explained that Will was supposed to wait for a cue that had not come yet. “I have ‘jump de gun’, yes?”, he asked with a smile. The audience, being a forgiving group, enjoyed a good laugh.

Hand in hand, Blair and Will returned to his house where they concluded the night with some conversation and smiles. Blair soon departed, too soon for Will, though he knew he would see her ‘fore the morning dove would coo thrice. A thought which brought him no small joy as he waved farewell to that person which he finds to be admirable.

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