Annie Jr: a view from backstage

I put my finger to my lips, and immediately my little protégé shrinks back, mimicking my gesture and ducking a little further into the shadows. Any second now, eight orphans are going to come belting off the stage, and those of us whose costumes are head-to-toe black will replace them in the darkness that follows. It is our job to unstick the self-made bunkbeds and carry them out into the alley in as little time as possible. During yesterday’s practice – the first with the actual beds and screens – it took us nearly 5 full minutes. About 3 minutes longer than desired.

My stomach is in knots, and for the tenth time, I whisper to Jacob and John exactly what their duties are when the lights go off. For the tenth time they humor me and nod dutifully before peering back through our makeshift window to spy onto the world of a 1930’s orphanage. Seeing the eagerness on John’s face, I allow myself a second to fully engage in the musical notes being declared on the other side of the fabric curtains. Lyrics from “It’s a Hard Knock Life” alternate with bucket slamming and sponge swinging. Sweet little Molly starts barking out orders, and it’s comical to see the others pretend fear as they scramble for mops, brooms and sheets. One broom falls over, and I make a mental note to throw it onto the bed before we take it out. The actresses playing Kate and Duffy seem to be in fine form today, their faces hardened and their voices clear. A fleece of red curls pops up above the rest as Annie jumps onto Pepper’s back, and the final chorus rings out over the captivated audience. Cheers ensue.

That is when the lights go out, and I’m jerked back to the immediacy of the present. Jacob, John, and I bolt out onto stage. My foot catches on a metal pail and sends it flying, but fortunately, the continued clapping of our adoring parents and colleagues masks the noise. Beds are jerked apart, sheets flung over shoulders, and beds whipped off the stage in just over 2 minutes. Sweat beads coat my palms, making me nearly lose my grip on the beds. When the music cues and the lights flood the set once again where Annie is getting ready to sing “Tomorrow,” I exhale deeply before glancing at the list of what will come next. Just as I’m getting ready to whisper-yell new instructions at John, I catch the look of wonderment on his face. It’s so perfect, so pure. His mind is fully engaged with the scene unfolding before him, even if he’s seen it multiple times in practice. Annie demands to be watched, heard, and enjoyed. My heart physically softens. The instructions can wait, at least another 2 minutes or so. Rather, I take a seat, breathe deeply, find my own hole in the fabric to peek through, and join John, ever the dark shadows behind the scenes.