Page 54 of The Executioners Three
Thanks to the incredible scraping skills of Agents Harris and Li—and thanks to the terrible memory skills of the entirety of Berm—the Fête du B?cheron unfolded on Halloween without a hitch.
Sure, some of the schoolhouse benches had been replaced by a hodgepodge of lawn chairs from different yards across Berm. And yeah, the stage was crooked and missing the tree that would normally get sawed in half. And okay, the absence of Mrs. Ferris’s jams made everybody cry at least once.
But there was enough hot cider—most of it spiked—and enough Halloween cheer to keep the fête running smoothly. Even the jack-o’-lantern contest went by with only three accusations of bribery and one accusation of sabotage.
Perhaps most important of all, there was so much money flowing from wallets into the Village Historique coffers that Mom was borderline euphoric all day—which in turn made Freddie borderline euphoric as well. Until right now at least, at the final event of the day: the Lumberjack Pageant.
“Call him again,” Mom said, her knuckles pressed against her cheekbones. “He’s your boyfriend.”
But he wasn’t. That was part of the problem here. Theo and Freddie hadn’t defined their relationship , and for all she knew, he might never answer another phone call from her again.
“I have tried six times now.” Freddie glared at her mom, narrowly missing Mr. Binder as the two of them performed a complex line dance of anxiety behind the Lumberjack Pageant stage.
Freddie’s gown swished around her anachronistic duck boots with each step.
“Theo knows what time they’re supposed to be here. ”
“And we are now past that time.” Mr. Binder hugged his script to his chest. Like Freddie, he was dressed in the pseudo-1600s lumberjack gear (he would be playing Lumberjack Number Three tonight). Unlike Freddie, he had wisely added a puffer jacket over his costume.
“Was it all a prank?” Mom asked, her face sagging with despair. “Was it all a part of your wretched war with Fortin Prep?”
That thought had most definitely crossed Freddie’s mind.
How else to explain why none of the Fortin students had shown up tonight?
They’d come diligently to the rehearsals (except Theo, who’d been in the hospital).
They’d accepted their costumes, and they’d all definitely said they’d be here by seven o’clock on Halloween night.
But nope. Not a one was here, not even Theo.
The sounds of the audience billowed against the curtain. They were impatient for the pageant to begin (and, in turn, for the Most Outrageous French Accent Contest to begin).
“Freddie!” Divya zipped around the stage, her eyes huge. She was dressed like a super-sexy (and definitely cold ) skeleton. Right behind her was a nunchaku-toting skeleton who, like Mr. Binder, had wisely chosen to wear a jacket atop her costume.
“What is the holdup?” Divya asked, forcing Freddie to stop pacing. “People are getting impatient, and Kyle actually suggested driving his Jeep into the stage again.” Divya glanced at Laina. “I don’t think he was serious?”
Laina shrugged. “With him, it’s hard to tell.”
“Divya, it causes me great pain to say this, but…” Freddie screwed her eyes shut.
“I fear that it was indeed a prank all along, and now the Fortin students will not be showing up for the pageant. But before we all freak out!” she added, snapping her eyes wide again.
“The show will go on! Frederica Gellar in three acts is still an option. Just give me that script, Mr. Binder.”
She thrust out a hand.
But Mr. Binder did not give her the script. “There are two of us, Freddie. We know the story well enough that I’m sure we can ad lib a show.”
“We can help too!” Divya cried. “I mean, we’re dressed like skeletons—”
“Sexy ones.” Laina grinned at her girlfriend. (Yes, girlfriend, since they had actually defined their relationship.)
“—but that doesn’t mean we can’t help. And I know Cat and Luis’ll help too. And Kyle… well, I’m not sure I’d trust him near the stage.”
“Yeah, no.” Laina made a pained expression. “But definitely the rest of us can help.”
Mom sighed, a sound that was likely the Most Dejected Sound in the history of Dejected Sounds. “I suppose a show is better than no show. And maybe I can put a fifteen percent discount on the cider, so Elliot Harper won’t get cranky and write a mean editorial in the paper like two years ago.”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” Freddie clapped her hands onto her mom’s shoulders.
She was in Prank Wizard mode, on the prowl for the easiest solution with the broadest impact.
“We’ll make you proud. I’ll get this show started as Traveler Number One—all alone and weary of the world.
Laina, you’ll get the rest of our cast assembled.
And Divya, you get your French accent ready because you’re up next as Berme Resident Number Two. ”
As Laina shot off and Divya bent over the script with Mr. Binder, Freddie gave her mom an overly cheerful thumbs-up. Then she rolled her shoulders and stomped up the steps onto stage.
The instant she pushed through the curtain, though—upon which was the painted scene of a snowy logging settlement—the whole crowd went silent. It didn’t matter that the stage light wasn’t on; Freddie was hardly invisible.
And wow, there were a lot of people out there. The entire town, of course, with Bermians clustered into any space beside the heaters that they could fit. In fact, this might be the most crowded the fête had ever been.
Which was great for Mom’s annual budget. Not so great for Freddie’s sudden onset of stage fright—a sensation she’d never felt before. Then again, she’d also never been called to perform on the stage where she’d nearly died and watched her not-a-boyfriend nearly die too.
It was kind of a lot. Even if no one else here remembered what had happened, Freddie sure did.
Someone coughed. Freddie’s eyes shot to Steve, dressed as a ghost with white strips of cloth all over his body that made him look more like an unraveling mummy than a proper haunting. He was mouthing something Freddie couldn’t decipher.
Then a phone rang. A doodle-loo doo, doodle-loo doo that transported Freddie back into Mrs. Ferris’s attic before her whole life had unraveled.
Then someone in the crowd dropped an f-bomb in a way that suggested they’d just spilled hot cider all over their pants.
Then, Freddie realized what Steve was trying to tell her. HE IS ALMOST HERE! That’s what her stepdad was mouthing—and also why he was now pointing toward the Village Historique’s distant entrance.
Where sure enough, if Freddie squinted past La Taverne, she could just make out a stampede (or was it a herd ?) of lumberjacks thundering this way. At the front, jogging in a way he absolutely was not supposed to be jogging, was Theo.
In seconds that felt like lifetimes, Theo and the other Fortin students pushed right through the audience to reach the stage. Meanwhile, Freddie could hear Mom and Mr. Binder and Divya all cheering from behind the curtain.
The audience was actually cheering too, as if they thought this was all part of the show. And Freddie supposed it could be. Didn’t pro wrestlers go storming through the crowd before a match? Maybe lumberjacks should do the same.
With only a slight limp to betray his pain—and a flush on his cheeks that wasn’t from the cold—Theo climbed the steps onto stage.
He looked entirely too gorgeous in his costume, and Freddie found herself annoyed by this fact.
She looked ridiculous in her gown. Meanwhile, he pulled off a French b?cheron as easily as he pulled off a Fortin Prep uniform or a pair of khakis and his Vans.
Even in the hospital, he’d looked good in a papery hospital gown. It was deeply unfair.
“I know,” Theo said as he came to a stop before her. Teenage lumberjacks streamed by, aiming for the curtain. “I am so sorry.”
Freddie’s face scrunched up. “You’re sorry for looking hot?”
Now his face scrunched up too. “Um, no. For being late.”
Right. Duh.
“Although,” Theo continued with a sly smile, “I’m glad you think I’m hot.”
“Pshaw.” Freddie swatted the air. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Porter. But why are you late?”
The stage rattled as more members of the cast rushed by. And Theo sighed. “My fellow students thought it would be funny to skip as a prank. So I opted to divulge my lineage as an Allard Fortin to them and then threaten them all with expulsion.”
“Can you do that?”
“Of course not.” Theo grinned. “But what good is a fancy name if I can’t use it?”
“Well, my mother and I thank you. Even if it does confirm my suspicions about you.”
His eyebrows lifted. “And what suspicions are those?”
Freddie slid her hand into his, so she could tow him toward their starting spots on the stage. “That you’re actually a Very Good Human Indeed. And in case you can’t tell, I am saying that phrase as a proper noun, so you know it’s serious.”
Theo laughed as they came to a stop over two taped Xs. “Then I should warn you, Gellar, that you might reconsider your opinion of me once you see how thoroughly I plan to kiss you.”
Freddie flushed. A delighted flush that made her stomach flip not once, not twice, but thrice . “Well, in that case, I guess we’re both Very Bad Humans Indeed, since I plan to do the same.”
Before Theo could respond to this, the stage light flashed on. The audience cheered, and finally—finally—the pageant began in earnest.
As did the accompanying contest, which Freddie was absolutely determined to win this year. Starting right now.
“LET US BEEGIN!” she cried, flinging her arms wide while the people of her town hooted and hollered and clapped like the wild b?cherons they were. “WELCUMMMM TO ZEE VILLAJJJ EE-STORRRR-EEECK! WE ’OPE YOU ENJOY ZEE SHOW!”