“Names?”
“They’re with us.” MJ waves us toward the theatre. It’s almost eight.
The guy nods for us to go ahead. He’s sitting with a tablet just inside the lobby.
MJ pushes the theatre door open wider. Ashley and I cross the lobby and go in quietly.
“I’m glad you made it,” she whispers.
The theatre is empty, the director and a couple other people sitting halfway back. We go the long way round, behind the director, and find seats at the far end, in the seats on the side.
MJ picks up her knitting. “Is this too much of an angle?”
I wave my hand to say “no”.
The place has a muffled feel, like the pads on a piano, where the hammer hits the string. A clodding, echoless feel.
“Can you all see alright?” That’s MJ. She puts down her loom and her needles. It’s a picture of a house she’s working on. She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who would knit, but you never know.
“Is Brooklyn back there?”
“Yes. She’s—“ but MJ stops.
We’re all whispering but we’re whispering real loud. You can hear us all across the theatre. The director looks at us.
MJ just nods to finish her sentence.
“Alright everybody make sure your cell phones are off.” Kind of a canned voice, a shallow voice. That’s the director.
Somebody next to him says something into a walkie-talkie and the lights go out.