A Midsummer Night's Scream

computers and go away?“
    “Not quite. The secretaries and junior editors have to stick around, I imagine. I wanted Melody to have the manuscript before she disappeared on her vacation.“
    As their Mongolian beef arrived and the appetizer plates, looking as if they’d been licked clean, were taken away, Jane asked, “So what’s this project you have in mind?“
    “It started when Paul purchased a run-down theater, thinking he could renovate it into a place to keep food supplies for all his restaurants in the Chicago area.“
    “So?“
    “He started getting bids for cleaning it up. And it appeared to be too expensive. He’s even more obsessed by cleanliness of food storage than the government agencies are. He’d have had to tear the building down and start from scratch. He didn’t want to make the investment in doing that, much less waste the time it would take. So he donated it to the community college’s theater department. It was a good tax break for him.“
    “It’s not like Paul to buy property without thoroughly investigating it, is it?“ Jane asked.
    Shelley grinned. “That wasn’t the real reason he bought it, I have to admit. But never let him know I told you this. It used to be a movie theater and it was where he saw the first film he ever watched. A black-and-white cowboy epic. He still remembers that as one of his best childhood experiences. The building was due to be leveled to make a parking lot.“
    “Paul is sentimental?“ Jane was astonished.
    “Only about a very few things and people. Thank goodness, I’m one of them,“ Shelley said, coming close to blushing.
    “I still don’t understand how this theater thing involves us,“ Jane said warily.
    “The college is putting on a play, and we’ll cater the food. The rehearsals start at six and go to nine forty-five. Most of the students and teachers involved won’t have time to have dinner between their last class of the day and the rehearsal.“
    Jane frowned. “We’re not supposed to cook anything, are we? If so, count me out right now.“
    “No, it’s just snacky stuff for halfway through rehearsals. Sandwiches, chips, soft drinks. On paper plates. I’ve hired ten different caterers to try out, so it’s not always the same kind of food.“
    “Where on earth did you find ten different caterers?“
    “In the phone book. I ignored all the fast-food places that would bring stuff that anybody could drive through to eat. Then I asked twenty of the rest to send me references with the name of the organization and the name and telephone number of the person who’d hired them. Fifteen replied.“
    Jane should have known that Shelley was well prepared.
    “How long does this go on? Ten whole days in a row?“ Jane thought it sounded really boring.
    “No,“ Shelley said. “We only do five a week. The students get out of class at noon on Saturday. And they get Sundays off to do all their homework.“
    “Do we have to hang around? Do we collect all the paper plates and plastic spoons?“
    “No, the caterers do that. We merely supervise. And we get to sit in on the rehearsals.“
    “Why would we want to do that?“
    “Because I’ve run through most of the most expensive caterers around here for Paul’s annual dinner for his managers. I want to try out some new ones.“
    “I meant, why would we want to watch the rehearsals? Eating is fine.“
    “I thought it might be interesting,“ Shelley said. “I’ve never seen anything being rehearsed. Do they change things as they go along? Are there some scenes that look good on paper and just don’t work—“
    “I don’t like amateur theater,“ Jane interrupted. “We don’t have to sit through the whole rehearsal every evening, do we?“
    “What’s wrong with amateur theater?“
“The actors are—well—amateurs. They always overact. They shout and gesture madly so they can be heard and seen from the back row.“
    “How do you know this?“
    “I took a theater class in college,“ Jane admitted. “I thought it would be a slam-dunk class I could ace. Instead, I had to attend, and review, every single play and opera the school and local community produced. It was among the most annoying, stupid things I’ve ever done to myself.“
    “Don’t worry. We don’t have to show up early. The snacks are served around eight P.M. We can arrive at seven-thirty. I’d like to watch, though. You could take your laptop and work on your next book in the greenroom, if you’d