Category Archives: Milford Theatre

Milford Theatre’s “Anne Frank” is a beautiful, poignant and powerful drama.

The sound of rain falling seems to send a chill through the auditorium as the lights on stage rise to a shadowy blue.  Through the small, single door at the back of the stage, we see four figures emerge into the dim light.  They are quiet,  huddled close together; their faces turn about the room, each person taking in the gloomy surroundings; each one affected  differently, yet still holding to each other; a family.  It is a moment with subtle and simple actions, silent except for the rain, yet even without a word, their fears,  their uncertainly and exhaustion is spoken to our hearts and minds.  Something else also,  and perhaps most of all: as this innocent family  enters the annex from which most of them will never emerge a free person, we sense that they are hunted.

Exhausted, rain- soaked and fleeing for their lives, left to right: Anne Frank (Lilly Niehaus), Margot Frank (Anna Lehrer) Otto Frank (Miles Morris) and Edith Frank (Olivia Hubbell) arrive at the secret annex under cover of night. Photo : Tara Johnson. tarajohnsonphotography.com

Thus are we drawn into The Milford High School Theatre Company’s masterful  production of   The Diary of Anne Frank.  Under the direction of Megan Weeks, the drama ran March 2nd and 3rd at the Milford High School Center for the Performing Arts in Highland.  The play, produced by special arrangement with Dramatists Play Service Inc.,  is newly adapted by Wendy Kesselman from the original by Francis Goodrich and Albert Hackett, which is based on the true story as told through the words of teenager Anne Frank in her private diary.

The Franks, father Otto (Miles Morris), mother Edith  (Olivia Hubbell),   daughters Margot (Anna Lehrer), and Anne (Lilly Niehaus) the youngest, are a German Jewish family who leave their home  and resettle in Amsterdam after witnessing the  growth of  anti-Semitism in Germany following  Adolf Hitler’s rise to power.

For a while things go well for the Frank family in their new home:   Otto’s friend and business partner Hermann Van Daan (Alex Lane) helps Otto establish his business in Amsterdam, while  the family settles into their new surroundings.  Eventually however, Nazi Germany invades the Netherlands.  The Dutch surrender, and Amsterdam becomes a German occupied city.

Orders come for Margot  to report to a work camp, and the next day the Frank family goes into hiding in the secret annex connected  to Otto Frank’s business facility; there to be joined by Hermann Van Daan, his wife Petronella (Emily Herman), and their teenage son Peter (Zach Russell).

Assisting the Franks in their flight, and providing their only direct contact with the outside world are Miep Gies (Hailey Eriksen) and Mr. Kraler (Jonah Bellore).

Shortly, Miep and Mr. Kraler present the Franks and Van Daans with the case of another Jewish man, desperate to escape the Nazi’s.  The families agree to accept him into the annex, even though food is scarce and sleeping arrangements are crowded, and so dentist Alfred Dussel (Tyler Capra) soon joins the annex household.

The technical contributions of the student crew were on display immediately.  They  put in long hours along with the members of the cast, and they deserve recognition for the outstanding production to which they contributed their talent and their time.  These students are:  Lead Stage Managers  Faith Weickel and Allysa Decato,  Stage Crew Alexa Cheaney, Student Technical Director Jeremy Hogaboom, Spotlight and Tech. Assistant Zach Damon, Costuming Assistants Maria Weickel and Sam Chmiel, Seamstress Sam Chmiel , who sewed on all of the stars and also helped with make-up, Historian and exhibit creator Tessa Biondo, Hair Stylist Ava Beck, Scenic Painter Rhia Sibson.

Some of the talented students whose artistry and skill went into creating the power, poignancy, and beauty witnessed on stage in The Diary of Anne Frank. Left to right: Samantha Chmiel, Ryan Harvey, Zach Damon(seated), Jeremy Hogaboom, Faith Weickel, Allysa Decato, Alexa Cheaney , and Maria Weickel. Not pictured are Tessa Biondo, Ava Beck, and Rhia Sibson.
Tessa Biondo was the student exhibit historian. Tessa researched and produced the excellent exhibit, including the posters with cast bios and corresponding character bios. The Lilly Niehaus/Anne Frank poster is shown here. You can view and purchase all of the posters at www.tarajohnsonphotograpy.com.

As added preparation, and to ensure her students understood the significance of their undertaking,  director Megan Weeks took the members of the production on a tour of the Holocaust Memorial Center in Farmington Hills. (https://www.holocaustcenter.org/about) and with the coordination of Harriet and Richard Cooper, hosted a luncheon for the students with Holocaust survivors Paula Marx-Bolton, Erna Gorman, and Micheal Weiss.  Hearing first hand accounts of the Holocaust, and getting to spend time with individual survivors made a deep impression on the students.  As one cast member said to his parents before an evening show.  “The pressure is really on tonight,  Paula    (survivor Paula Marx-Bolton,) is going to be there.”  The students wanted to give a portrayal that was worthy of the memory of all those who perished, and to give their best for one who had survived the horror.

Besides her cast and student crew, Weeks was assisted in the production by Acting coach Michelle White, Technical Director Sarah Martin, Costume Manager Melinda Mihail, Seamstress Norma Chmiel, voice over artists Rich Kynast and Michael Last, Executive Assistant to Ms. Weeks, Megan’s own “Mama” Nancy Weeks, and a host of other grandparent and parent volunteers and coordinators.

The Diary of Anne Frank was photographed by Tara Johnson Photography.  All photos included within this work are by Tara Johnson.  These excellent images and many more may be viewed and purchased at www.tarajohnsonphotography.com

 

The story moves on, told largely through Anne’s eyes in wonderfully acted narrative sequences performed by Lilly Niehaus.  Lilly beautifully captures the youth, charm, optimism, and occasional irritability of young Anne.  To Anne, the move to the annex first seems like a “romantic adventure,” and thanks to Lilly’s captivating portrayal, the audience is able to forget for a while the tragedy that  looms, and  to enjoy the warm family fellowship, identify with the mundane tensions that surfaced along the way, and even  laugh along with the occasional moments of humor.

While telling  us the events that happened, Anne’s diary also reveals much about Anne herself,  Her awareness and response to the changes happening as she matures toward womanhood, her fears, her sense of guilt that she was still alive, when so many others had perished, even her own candid admission of her emotional detachment from her mother; all these written thoughts are lifted from the page and translated with charm and grace into spoken word  by Lilly.

Lilly Niehaus shines as Anne Frank. Her portrayal was lovely, lively, warm and enchanting. . .

 

…as her wonderful and varied facial expressions, and her body language attest. Lilly takes us from Anne as an impetuous and exuberant thirteen year old…
…to struggling with feelings of indifference towards her mother Edith (Olivia Hubbel, standing) and resentment of her “perfect” sister…
… to a beautiful and considerate young woman whose genuine care for others is expressed onstage by the gifts she somehow manages to make for each one from the meagre resources at her disposal. While wavering at times, she never completely looses her hope. Lilly keeps us hoping with Anne.

Besides being a  story teller, Anne Frank is also a character in this story.  There are many instances when Lilly Niehaus, in character as Anne the story-teller, is speaking to the audience, invisible and inaudible to the other characters on stage.  Then, whenever  it’s time to join the scene, Lilly switches from  Anne the story-teller to Anne the character, and picks up her dialogue and action with the other performers.  Lilly does this flawlessly throughout the show, never missing a beat.

Lilly Niehaus as Anne Frank “narrates” the arrival of Mr. Dussel at the secret annex. Visible behind Lilly are Hailey Eriksen, Tyler Capra, and Alex Lane. Lilly is not yet part of the scene behind her, and the characters are oblivious to her presence. Lilly made the transition from character Anne to story-teller Anne flawlessly many times throughout the drama. She never missed a beat.

Milford Theatre goers should be familiar with Jonah Bellore.  He has been delighting audiences with his comic antics in such zany roles as Barnaby Tucker in Hello Dolly,  Mr. DePinna  in You Can’t Take it With You  and of course  Bud Frump in  How to Succeed in Business… Jonah is definitely up to the task of toning down his considerable stage  persona to portray the  decidedly unzany  Mr. Kraler.  Jonah’s voice, always clear and articulate, and  typically lively in his previous roles,  maintains the first two qualities, but  for this role he eschews liveliness to take on a still, almost hushed vocal delivery,  as though  beside the sick-bed of a loved one, or wishing to speak something with great reverence.  This seemingly minor alteration contributes to the  glow of goodness about the Frank family. Through Jonah’s portrayal, the audience can hear and believe that Mr. Kraler has deep respect and admiration for Otto Frank and his family.  This production of Anne Frank  certainly benefited from an actor  of  Jonah’s  experience and skill performing the role of Mr.  Kraler.

Trusted friend and protector Mr. Kraler (Jonah Bellore) as one of their only conduits to the outside world, also had the painful duty of bringing disturbing news to the fugitives in the secret annex. Zach Russell, Olivia Hubbell and Miles Morris listen as Jonah relates the unsettling events.
Thoughtful, concerned for their well-being, and earnest. Jonah Bellore’s portrayal of Mr. Kraler left no doubt that he was a loyal friend of the Franks. Jonah is seen here performing with Olivia Hubbell and Zach Russell.
Jonah Bellore as Mr. Kraler. Milford audiences are well aware of Jonah’s stage talent.

Another talented performer from whom audiences have witnessed great things is Hailey Eriksen.  Besides enduring a stay with The Addams Family as Alice Beineke,  and keeping her chin up as Russian Grand Duchess in exile Olga Katrina in You Can’t Take it With You, Hailey was most recently seen making us  laugh as Irene Molloy in Hello Dolly where,  as if her seemingly effortless comedic touch were not enough, Hailey also dazzled us with her beautiful rendition of “Ribbons Down My Back.”  In the role of  Miep Gies, Hailey neither gets to make us laugh nor delight us with her singing , but she does get to give us an excellent  portrayal of courage, empathy, loyalty and steadfastness; again much to the benefit of this production.  The early sequence between Hailey as Miep Gies, and Olivia Hubbell as Edith Frank is a powerful, wonderfully acted moment.  The contrasting and deeply expressed emotions evident on each actresses face, and their whole positioning with each other,  presents a stunning photographic study, as seen in the image below.

Reminiscent of a masterpiece by William Bouguereau , this stunning composition by Tara Johnson captures the stirring performances of Hailey Eriksen as Miep Gies and Olivia Hubbell as Edith Frank. Hailey listens as Olivia reveals her fear and sense of hopelessness. These two young women convey so much of the emotions of their characters in their facial expressions, but look also at how the placement and position of their hands add even more emotional dimension to the scene. Notice also the depth of details in the costumes, the hairstyles and makeup.
A gift of a pair of shoes from Miep Gies(Hailey Eriksen) thrills Anne (Lilly Niehaus) who has outgrown her only pair.
Spice cake! Miep Gies(Hailey Eriksen) has a surprise for everyone. Left to right: Emily Herman, Anna Lehrer, Hailey Eriksen, Olivia Hubbel, and Miles Morris.

Hermann “Putti” Van Daan  is the source of much of the tension between the characters confined to the annex.  He is sometimes impatient and overbearing, and  does not conceal his displeasure with his son Peter. He is even caught by Mrs Frank pilfering bread from the groups meagre supply.   Despite his flaws,  the actor who portrays Hermann Van Daan still must make him like-able , for  Mr. Van Daan is no villain; he has proven himself as a trusted friend to the Frank family, and is fiercely devoted to his wife.  Milford audiences will recall how  Alex Lane excelled at making the gruff and initially greedy  Horace Vandergelder like-able in Hello Dolly, so it is no surprise that Alex takes on this challenge with a convincing performance, one  that  captures the complex nature of Mr. Van Daan with intensity and controlled vigor.  Such is Alex’s portrayal that  at times it seems one can actually feel, as well as see, his potent facial expressions; yet in quieter moments Alex can perform a simple action like enjoying the smell of the cigarette Anne made for him with a natural ease that makes us believe he is delighting in the aroma.  Alex is also able to portray tremendous vulnerability and tenderness of character such as seen in the  sequence captured in the second photo below.

Someone call Marvel Studious for their next action movie. Those eyes look like they could bore through steel plate! Let us just hope Alex is cast as one of the good guys! Family tension between Hermann Van Daan (Alex Lane), Petronella Van Daan (Emily Herman) and Peter Van Daan (Zach Russell). Alex glares, Emily maintains her ground, and Zach watches with concern.
Another powerful moment on stage with Alex Lane and Emily Herman, beautifully captured by Tara Johnson. tarajohnsonphotography.com
Alex Lane displays his light side in this detail from the berry-eating sequence.

The character of Petronella Van Daan is another challenge.  Mrs.  Van Daan is a devoted wife and mother.  She is possessed of good cheer, and takes on most of the cooking duties without  complaint.  She has a  sense of humor about herself, demonstrated when she produces a chamber pot out of a hat box  while declaring, “A place just doesn’t feel like home without it.”  Yet Mrs Van Daan is also a  flirt, to the point of making Edith and Otto Frank uncomfortable,  and despite her devotion to her husband, she can not help making disparaging remarks about him to the others; her character is also written to display a  marked degree of materialism, a trait not demonstrated in any of the other characters. Like the character of her husband, that of Petronella Van Daan  must  generate tension between the others, while still remaining like-able.  A performer of exceptional skill and range is required to portray such a character effectively.  Last seen  in the title role of Dolly Gallagher-Levi   leading us on a merry, song and dance filled romp  in Hello Dolly,  Emily Herman is just such a performer.  As Petronella Van Daan,  Emily is able to make the audience alternately laugh or cringe, sympathize with, or silently criticize,  her behavior.  She has moments of intense emotional display, and also moments of frivolity.  Emily can engage in fierce dialogue,  or, like Billie Burke in a classic screwball comedy film,  flit about the stage spouting  bits of nonsense.  Her performance seems to flow effortlessly through the various demands of her character; yet another indicator of the great talent possessed by Emily Herman .

Seeming almost to obsess over the fur coat that was given to her by her father, Petronella Van Daan (Emily Herman) was a complex character who also exhibited great caring, humor, and resilience. Emily Herman gave an excellent portrayal, moving through the demanding variances in her character with an ease and poise that made it seem effortless. Emily is seen here trying to dissuade Alex Lane as husband Hermann Van Daan from selling her fur coat.
The widely varying attributes of Petronella Van Daan allowed Emily Herman the opportunity to display her versatility along with her strength as a performer. Left to right: Alex Lane, Zach Russell, Emily Herman, and chamber pot.

 

A toast to welcome Mr. Dussel! Seated, left to right: Tyler Capra, Olivia Hubbell (mostly obscured), Emily Herman. Standing, left to right, Lilly Niehaus, Anna Lehrer, Hailey Eriksen, Miles Morris, Alex Lane and Zach Russell. Notice the depth and quality of detail in the costumes, the hairstyles and make-up, as well as the props and the set decoration.

Alfred Dussel is the last character to join the fugitives in the secret annex, and again his is a complex role.  A dentist by profession, Mr. Dussel is deeply religious, and devoted to his beloved Charlotte, from whom he was forced to separate, and whom he longs to see again.  He is also sensitive about the fear many people have  of visiting the dentist, and he is possessed of a quirky sense of humor that often has him explaining “That was a joke.” ; also, he is highly allergic to cats, a potential problem,as Peter Van Daan has brought his cat to the annex. The role of Mr. Dussel is endearingly  portrayed by Tyler Capra, to whom audiences had already  been endeared  by his portrayal of hopeful bride-groom Ambrose Kemper in Hello Dolly, and xylophone playing Ed Carmichael in You Can’t Take it With You.  Through Mr. Dussels’s  perturbances with Anne’s nightmares, his often unappreciated attempts at humor, and his peeves (“I hate cats!  They give me asthma!”)  Tyler  gives us a like-able and earnest,  yet somewhat awkward man who truly tries to bring comfort and laughter to those around him.

Mr. Dussel (Tyler Capra) provides some not pain-free dentistry for Mrs. Van Daan (Emily Herman).
Already known for his finely trained voice, Tyler Capra here demonstrates his highly trained eyebrow in the rarely attempted single-arch. Mr Dussel is pleased that one of his jokes (“Put some milk on it and let the cat lick it off,” referring to Peter’s first flush of facial hair.) finally went over big…
…well, not so big with Emily Herman as Mrs. Van Daan. Who can blame her for not being amused?

Margot Frank is Anne’s older sister.  Compared to “Quicksilver Anne”, Margot is quiet and reflective.  She embodies mature qualities at a young age, and she excels in her studies, both attributes which Anne is shown to resent for a  time during the play.  No longer an adolescent, and more serious by nature, Margot does not find anything adventurous or romantic about the move to the annex.  She is immediately shown to be deeply  affected by the events taking place.  The role of Margot Frank is played by Anna Lehrer.  Anna has the challenge of portraying a quiet character who is intense but does not demand attention, and who is serious and with high standards, but who also stays out of the  conflicts that surround some of the other characters, and this she does exceptionally well.  The facial expressions  and physical actions which Anna displays are intense and clearly convey the fear that is so deeply affecting her character.  Despite her obvious emotional distress, Margot does not allow this to influence how she treats the others. One of the important exchanges that takes place between the sisters is that in which Margot, the quiet one, defends herself against her sister’s  charges.    Anna Lehrer delivers Margot’s rebuttal’s  calmly,  and with heightened, but controlled emotion.  “I’m not perfect…”, or “He doesn’t walk all over me…” She is not going to back down, but she is not going to start screaming either.  Quiet, but firm.  Passionate, but controlled: a difficult and delicate balance  crafted with insight and quality of execution  by Anna Lehrer.

Night terror! Another of the evocative images created with lighting and excellent performances, and captured for us by the camera of Tara Johnson. Margot and Edith Frank (Anna Lehrer and Olivia Hubbell) huddle in fear to the sound of roaring engines and off stage explosions as British airplanes fly overhead en route to bomb German- held targets.
Another beautiful sequence with Anna Lehrer (right) and Lilly Niehaus as sisters Margot and Anne Frank. The tension that exists between these two characters early in the play soon disappears, and Lilly and Anna give an excellent portrayal of the sisters growing closer together.
Lilly Niehaus (left) and Anna Lehrer performing splendidly as sisters Anne and Margot Frank.
Reactions as loud noises in the shop below interrupt celebration of Chanukah. Is it the Gestapo come to find them, or hopefully a thief? Left to right: Tyler Capra, Olivia Hubbell, Lilly Niehaus, Miles Morris, and Anna Lehrer.

Peter Van Daan is  the teenage son of Mr. and Mrs. Van Daan.  He starts the play interested mostly in his cat, and decidedly not interested in Anne’s attempts to get him to dance and to engage in horse play, as when she teases him by stealing his shoes.  Like Anne however, Peter also matures over the course of the play, and we soon see the two tentatively embarking on a romance.  Zach Russell gives an excellent portrayal of Peter Van Daan.  Zach does awkward when Peter is awkward, he does charming when Peter is charming, and he also does awkwardly charming, or charmingly awkward, as the case may be.  Of course Zach doesn’t merely “do” these attributes, he does them well, he does them convincingly and he does them throughout his performance in some of the plays most charming and hopeful scenes.    Zach’s timing when he trips over the bed  after he tells Anne he thinks she is pretty is impeccable.  Zach and Lily  have a  delightful  on-stage chemistry, something audiences will remember from  their success as Anthony Kirby Jr. and Alice Sycamore in You Can’t Take it With You.  

The dawning of affection. Peter Van Daan (Zach Russell) realizes, and stumbles to express, a feeling he didn’t have before for Anne Frank (Lilly Niehaus). Zach’s and Lilly’s faces and,their body positioning, add so much charm and innocence into this sequence. Notice Zach’s hands!
“Our attic.” Anne and Peter are still shy, but their talks are longer and more frequent. Through Lilly and Zach, the audience could feel them yearning to express themselves. Notice the delicate positioning of their hands.  Notice also the effect of the moonlight streaming through the attic window.
So much is going on here! A minor skirmish arises over who will cut the spice-cake. Each performer is in character, acting and re-acting to each other and to the rapidly moving scenario. Marvelous performances by everyone, splendidly captured by Tara Johnson. Left to right: Lilly Niehaus, Zach Russell, Alex Lane, Emily Herman, Tyler Capra, Anna Lehrer(mostly obscured), Olivia Hubbell, Hailey Eriksen, Miles Morris(with back to camera).

Edith Frank, wife of Otto, mother of Margot and Anne is already emotionally exhausted and near the breaking point when the play opens.  Through Edith is expressed the fear that many of us experience as we face difficult times in life.  Hers is a relentless character to portray, one that allows the performer little opportunity to come up into the light, but demands  they stay down in the dark, where doubt and hopelessness dwell.  Such a character demands a performer of strength, of sensitivity, and of endurance, to remain for most of the performance in a role with almost no bright spots, where almost every emotion she was called upon to display, were it to be  expressed in mathematical terms, would be less than zero.  Such a performer is Olivia Hubbell in the role of Edith Frank.  Olivia’s facial expressions are haunting, her wide and terrified eyes seem to sense some as yet unseen horror.  Her voice as she expresses her fears that all is hopeless is desperate, frightening, and ragged with emotion. Olivia’s portrayal of Edith’s violent rage when she finds Mr. Van Daan stealing bread is explosive, dynamic, and frighteningly convincing.   Even her own daughter Anne rejects her early in the play, putting even more strain on Edith while  providing more opportunity for the audience to witness the strength of Olivia’s portrayal.  The times Olivia does get to display a smile or to appear relaxed are like gentle breezes scented with flowers amid the vicious winds that torment her character.

Here is another excellent study of Olivia Hubbell’s powerful portrayal of Edith Frank, this time as husband Otto Frank(Miles Morris) listens with quiet concern.
Already near the breaking point at the outset of the play, Edith Frank (Olivia Hubbell) reacted with anger and outrage when she caught Mr. Van Daan (Alex Lane) stealing bread. Here we see Olivia Hubbell’s volcanic portrayal, while Alex Lane as Van Daan reacts with surprise and remorse. Lilly Niehaus and Anna Lehrer as Anne and Margot, watch in stunned disbelief while Miles Morris, as Otto Frank, attempts to calm his wife’s angry passion.
Olivia didn’t get many chances to smile during the play. Here she does so, tenderly, as she receives the gift,( which signals the healing of the rift between Edith and Anne) which daughter Anne has given her.

Otto Frank: husband, father, successful man of business, liked by his associates and friends, loved by his family, and respected by all.  Despite all this, Otto is  humble; a patient and listening leader, who sees the worth in all around him, and who is not afraid to express admiration  and gratitude to those who look up to him.   The role of Otto Frank is performed by Miles Morris, and like every member of the cast, Miles gives an excellent portrayal of a challenging and complex character.  As Otto, Miles  maintains a deliberate calm throughout most of the play.  He is seen at various times  reassuring others, or looking up from his reading to monitor the tense moments that flared up between characters, wisely weighing whether to intervene, or to let events play out.  Yet when danger threatened, Otto was decisive, and quick to act to protect his family, such as the night  loud noises erupted from the work space below, it was Otto who rushed out through the door to find the cause.     Through Miles’  portrayal of Otto Frank, we see  the complex nature of a figure in authority who is not authoritarian, a leader who listens more than he speaks, and a man who has earned the respect of all around him but who doesn’t need to keep proving  it.  He is a man  burdened with the care of those around him, but above all who loves and cares  deeply for his family and all humanity (“If we can save even  one life, we must try” as he urges the others to allow Mr. Dussel to share their secret hiding place).

Father Otto Frank (Miles Morris) comforts daughter Anne Frank (Lilly Niehaus) by telling how her courage and hope have inspired him.
“The house is shaking!”  To the effect of bombers roaring overhead, Miles Morris and Lilly Niehaus huddle together in this powerfully evocative image. Besides the look of dread etched on their faces, notice their eyes gazing through the roof to the same imaginary patch of sky as the deadly danger passes overhead.

 

Near the end of the second act  Miep Gies hurriedly enters the secret annex.  She is flush with excitement.  At first there is trepidation.  Is it bad news?  No, not bad news, the invasion!  The invasion?  Yes,  the invasion!  For the first time  in the play hope dawns, suddenly and over everyone.  Miep has brought a map, and on it they trace out the Allied advance, city by city, until it will reach–Amsterdam!  They turn on the radio so thoughtfully provided them by Mr. Kraler, and the voice of General Eisenhower announces that Allied troops have landed on the beaches of Normandy, and proclaims that the liberation of Europe has begun!  Liberation!  We too are carried away with the elation of the moment, yearning for the tragic end to be averted, silently urging the Allied armies to advance in time.

 

Tracing the Allied army’s advance–to Amsterdam! Tyler Capra, Lilly Niehaus, Anna Lehrer, Miles Morris, Hailey Eriksen, Zach Russel, Emily Herman, and Olivia Hubbell pour over a map after Miep Gies(Hailey Eriksen) brings news of the invasion.
Liberation is at hand. “Listen! That’s Eisehower!” Now that the invasion of Europe has begun, it seems the war may finally end soon. Left to right: Tyler Capra, Anna Lehrer, Lilly Nieuhaus, Miles Morris, Hailey Eriksen, Olivia Hubbel, and Zach Russell.

After this is a calm sequence.  Everyone, even Edith Frank seems relaxed.  The characters display a  sense of hope that we have not seen before.  They are enjoying fresh berries and are relishing the imminent prospect of the end of the war, and freedom from being hunted.  Freedom to return to their normal lives.

While this may look like an image of Tyler Capra, Emily Herman, Alex Lane, Olivia Hubbell, and Miles Morris relaxing on stage during a break at a dress rehearsal, it is actually these performers in character looking like they are relaxing as they enjoy the luxury of fresh berries and anticipate the even sweeter prospect of the war’s end. This hopeful sequence ended tragically with the arrival of the Gestapo.
In the attic, Margot(Anna Lehrer), Peter(Zach Russell) and Anne(Lilly Niehaus) enjoy their own picnic.

Suddenly the stage goes dark.  We hear the effects of troopers storming the house.  Shouting;  the  crashing  of a door being broken down.  On stage, a scream.  More effects of men shouting, sounds of confusion, struggle. Capture.  From out of the darkness we hear Lilly’s voice give out a piteous, terrified scream;  “Pim!”  (Anne’s nickname for her father.)  Then, silence.

The darkness continues.  Some in the audience begin to stir. Is this the end?  No, not the end.    The stage lights come up dimly, but enough to reveal the annex, devoid of human life. Through the small single door at the back of the stage enters a solitary figure.  Otto Frank.

At this moment some kind of energy, or an aura seems to charge the very atmosphere of the auditorium, as if everyone  is suddenly filled up with the same compelling awareness.  Something momentous is unfolding onstage.  Something terrible, something filled with unbearable pain,  something everyone  dreads, yet which no one can resist.  Even before he speaks, his body emanates grief: his posture, the tilt of his head, the position of his arms and hands.  His hands.  We watch as he reaches out, his fingers  tenderly playing over an object, or a piece of furniture, each one connected to  a person he once knew…a person now gone, forever.

The haunting scene as Otto Frank (Miles Morris) enters the annex, alone. Each object he touches is a connection to a loved one lost, and reminds us of his pain, and the overall tragedy. Notice the deliberate, tender touch of his fingers to the lace table-cloth.

 

Already the audience is grieving with Otto Frank.  Not a word has been spoken.

To say that The Monologue belongs to Miles Morris would be an incomplete statement.  It also belongs to every member of the cast, to every member of the crew, to the authors, to Megan Weeks, Michelle White,  Melinda Mihail, and Sarah Martin, to Holocaust survivors Paula Marx-Bolton, Erna Gorman, and Micheal Weiss,  to Harriet and Richard Cooper, to many  grandparents and parents who volunteered to make this production. It belongs to the millions who perished, and the millions more who survived, but suffered. It belongs to every one of them because they brought The Diary of Anne Frank to this moment.

This moment  is for one performer to deliver.   Alone, glowing in the dim blue twilight,  the performer is on the stage.  Suffering issues from his whole person.   Miles Morris delivers the moment.  His voice, deep and clear,  is  filled with terror at each awful word  it speaks.  In sentences choked  with anguish, Miles tells of their betrayal by an unknown informant, the detention, the railroad journey in a cattle car, the separations… then, one by one, the deaths; his friends, Hermann and Petronella Van Daan, Peter Van Daan, Mr Dussel…Edith…Margot… Anne.  It is soul- shattering, heart-breaking.  The house is in tears. Miles cradles one of Anne’s shoes, his face tortured with pain.  He discovers Anne’s diary and reads aloud her words “Despite everything that has happened, I still believe people are good at heart.”  Protectively grasping her diary, like a delicate living thing,  Miles moves back to the door.  He takes the scarf Anne had made for him, lovingly caresses it to his cheek, then gently wraps it around his neck. With a final grief-stricken look at the annex and the memories, he turns and disappears.

Cradling Anne’s shoe, Miles continues revealing the tragedy.
The suffering expressed on his face…
…The tenderness of his grasp on Anne’s diary…
..clinging to the diary and the scarf Anne made for him, a final agonized glance at the annex… Miles Morris brings “The Diary of Anne Frank” to a close.  The house is in tears.

Strong, silent men are grateful for the darkness to hide their tears.  Other men and women, less silent, struggle to control their sobbing, while some young women do not struggle, but burst into open weeping and continue to do so for thirty minutes.  They have not merely watched a play; they have experienced something sublime.

From beginning to end, The Milford High School Theatre Company’s production of The Diary of Anne Frank  is an amazing performance.

To every member of the cast and crew, to Megan Weeks, to every person who gave their talent and their time and their energy to this production:  Well Done.  Not as an afterword, but as a final word, Thank You.

The cast of The  Milford High School Theatre Company’s 2018 production of “The Diary of Anne Frank.” (left to right) Emily Herman as Petronella Van Daan, Alex Lane as Hermann Van Daan, Zach Russell as Peter Van Daan, Lilly Niehaus as Anne Frank, Miles Morris as Otto Frank, Olivia Hubbell as Edith Frank, Anna Lehrer as Margot Frank, Tyler Capra as Alfred Dussel, Jonah Belore as Mr. Kraler, Hailey Eriksen as Miep Gies.

 

Although the Franks were  born in Germany, and Otto had fought  in the First World War, this record of life long citizenship and loyal service offered the Franks no protection from the Nazi regime.    During World War One, Jews like Otto Frank not only fought for their country as loyal Germans, but their valor was recognized by the Prussian/German military establishment. 

 The Ordern Pour le Merite, commonly referred to as the  “Blue Max” was Germany’s highest award for bravery in the face of the enemy.   Recipients of the Blue Max became national heroes,  and were widely celebrated .   Jewish aviator Wilhelm Frankl  volunteered for duty in the German Air Service at the outbreak of World War One, and on August 12, 1916,  Frankl became just the ninth airman to earn the prestigious  Pour le Merite.  To highlight the significance of this achievement, Wilhelm Frankl earned the Blue Max  five months before the war’s most famous ace , Manfred von Richtofen, the legendary “Red Baron,” was accorded the same honor. ¹

Following his death in action in April 1917, Wilhelm Frankl, having earned the highest honor for bravery which his nation could bestow, was  given a funeral with military honors, complete with German officers and soldiers, carrying  floral wreaths , trailing his hearse.  Graveside, these German  soldiers can be seen standing at attention and saluting as Frankl’s casket is lowered into the earth.¹ 

¹ (Bronnenkant, The Blue Max Airmen, Volumes 1 and 3, Aeronaut Books)

Anne Frank, having committed no crime, spent the last two and a half years of her life as a fugitive from the government of her native country.  She died in captivity, under brutal and inhumane conditions. She was buried in a mass grave.

Only fifteen years separate the end of the German regime that could and did bestow the highest of honors upon the descendants of Abraham,  and the rise of the German regime capable of systematically and deliberately treating them with the lowest of  inhuman cruelty and contempt, even to the point of attempting to exterminate them. 

Fifteen years is less time than Anne Frank lived.

Fifteen years is less time than  any of the daughters and sons , granddaughters and  grandsons who gave this performance of The Diary of Anne Frank have so far lived.

Fifteen years is a very short time.

Today is one day.

 

Copyright 2018 r.k.morris

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 13 (Campfire Creepers 3)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery – comedy script.  Click here to start at the beginning

Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

 

Ilinca:  Well, you tell me what kind movies you see about Transylvania, I tell you how much like Scramsylvania.

Lou:  Which movies?  Let’s see, first there’s Frankenstein.

Ilinca:  Ya, is lot like Frankenstein.

Lou:  The Wolf-man?

Ilinca:  Is lot like Wolf-man too.

Lou:  And Dracula?

Ilinca:  Is like Dracula most of all.

Lou;  Oh.  I was afraid you were going to say that.

Ilinca:  Why?  What is trouble?

Lou:  Oh, no trouble.  I just want to make sure I understand what you’re talking about, without jumping to any false conclusions on my own.

Ilinca:  You mean like jack ass?

Lou:  That’s exactly what I mean.  Now, can you give me an example of what you mean when you say your home is like the movie Dracula?

Ilanca:  Example?  Sure, you remember Borga Pass in Dracula story?

Lou:  Borga Pass?  With the wolves and the strange noises in the night and  the mysterious coach driver?

Ilinca:  That the place.  People from our village, we walk by Borga Pass all the time.

Lou:  How — how is your home like the Wolf-man?

Ilinca;  You remember gypsy who tell fortune of Larry Talbot?   ‘Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.’?

Lou:  I wish I didn’t, but I do.

Ilinca:  We got gypsies tell same fortunes today.   Tourists love to come hear gypsy tell scary fortune.  Same gypsy woman as tell Larry Talbot fortune still live near village.  She hundred and twenty-nine years old,   She no longer tell fortune though.  Her daughter, she tell fortune now, she only eighty-three years old.

Lou:  That same gypsy, her daughter, tells the same fortune to tourists today?

Ilinca;  All the time.

Lou:  Do you get many tourists in Scramsylvania?

Ilinca:  That depends on how you look at it.

Lou: On how you look at it?

Ilinca:  Sure, if you look at tourists coming into country, you see plenty of tourists.  But, if you look at tourists leaving country, you not see so many.

Lou:  Oh, I get it, they come in, but they don’t get out.

Ilinca:  That’s right.

Lou:  What am I saying?  They don’t get out!  Werewolves, vampires!

Ilinca:  Anything else you want to know about Scramsylvania?

Lou:  I’ll probably wish I never asked, but how is Scramsylvania like the movie Frankenstein?

Ilinca:  Why you wish you never ask?  Scramsylvania like movie Frankenstein for simplest reason.  Nothing scary.

Lou:  No, nothing scary?

Ilinca:  No.  No Borga Pass, no gypsies telling scary fortune.

Lou:  I’m awful glad to hear you say that.

Ilinca: Sure you glad,  Wait till you hear rest:  is simply from window of  house I can see  ruins of tower where Baron von Frankenstein put together pieces of dead bodies and bring monster to life.

Lou:  From your window you can see the ruins of the tower where Baron Frankenstein put together the pieces of dead bodies and brought the monster to life?

Ilinca:  That’s right.

Lou:  And that’s not scary?

Ilinca:  Sure, nobody seen monster for a long time.  Not like Dracula and were-wolves.

Lou:  Nobody has seen the Frankenstein monster for a long time?

Ilinca:  No, he usually  come out after big thunderstorm, you know, I think lightning get him charged up.  Then he go roaming around countryside, looking for his Bride.

Lou:  All these years, he still roams around the countryside, looking for his Bride?  Hasn’t he found her?

Ilinca:  If he find Bride, why he still roam?   Be pretty silly monster(to self) or else dirty, no good wolf, always chasing some blonde Betty. (to Lou)  No, I think she play hard to get.  Nobody seen Bride of Frankenstein for many years.

Lou:  Aren’t you scared you’ll run into the Frankenstein monster one night while he’s out roaming?  I mean, what do people do?

Ilinca;  We take precautions.  We got precautions against all the monsters.

Lou:  You do?  What are they?  I’d like to know, in case I ever run into one of them.

Ilinca:  Well, first for Frankenstein monster, he is afraid of fire, you remember?  So in village in Scramsylvania, we all carry torch with us all the time.

Lou:  A torch, all the time?  Do you have it with you now?

Ilinca: Sure I got.  Is not lit, but I show you, here it is.

Lou:  That’s a torch?  That looks kind of small.

Ilinca:  Is convenient travel size.  Big torch  at home, not fit in bag.  So, I carry torch all the time, just in case of Frankenstein monster.

Lou: Okay, just so I don’t forget, you carry a torch  just in case of Frankenstein monster?

Ilinca:  That’s right.  Then there are the were-wolves.  For the were-wolves we got the silver bullet.  You remember how the only way to stop the were- wolf is with  silver bullet?  Let me see, it  here somewhere. . .ah, here it is, see silver bullet.  I carry all the time, just in case of were-wolf.  Then for Dracula and other vampires, we got the cross.  She, here is cross, I wear around my neck.

Lou:  I see, you carry the silver bullet just in case of were-wolves, and wear the cross  just in case of vampires.

Ilinca:  Well, the silver bullet I carry  only in case of were-wolf, but I wear cross anyway,  vampire or no vampire.  Still, is nice to know vampires afraid of cross.

Lou:  Okay, I get it.

Ilinca:  Look here, Lou.  I got extra silver bullet.  You like to take extra silver bullet?

Lou:  A silver bullet?  For me?

Ilinca:  Sure, to protect you, in case of were-wolf.

Lou:  I think I’d better not.  I could get in a lot of trouble carrying a silver bullet around at school.

Ilinca:  You no carry round at school.  School is in daytime.  Were-wolf only come out at at night, after sun go down, and moon in sky.

Lou:  Really, only at night?

Ilinca: Sure, you no remember movie?

Lou:  That’s right, they only come out at night, like in the movie.

Ilinca:  Ya and only on nights of full moon, not so much to worry about as vampire, could come out any night.

Lou:  That’s right.  Oh, Thank you Ilinca, you’ve made me feel a lot better already.  Were-wolves only come out during a full moon; that’s only a few nights a month.

Ilinca:  Sure, like tonight.

Lou:  Tonight?  There’s going to be a full moon tonight?

Ilinca: Ya, Full moon is tonight.

Lou:  Are you sure?

Ilinca:  People live in Scramsylvania always sure when is going to be full moon.  That’s why I double-check, make sure I got silver bullet before sun goes down.

Lou: Come to think of it  Ilinca, I would like to take that extra silver bullet, if you don’t mind.

Ilinca: Sure, here  is bullet.

To be continued. . .

Copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 7)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery-comedy script.  Click here to read Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 6 (Campfire Creepers 3)

Mystery comedy script. Click here to start at Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

 

Uncle Charlie:    I’m beginning to think now it would have been better if I’d taken the vacuum cleaner in to Max first thing.  It is a bit inconvenient lugging this thing around.

Bonita:  Can’t you drop it once we get inside the wax museum?

Uncle Charlie:  Say that again Bonita.

Bonita:  Oh, I didn’t mean to drop it literally.

Uncle Charlie:  Of course, I know what you meant, but you’ve just hit on the solution.  Drop it, that’s the key!

Joan:  The key to what?

Uncle Charlie:  The key to your unknown young admirers shyness.  Bonita’s timely utterance of the word ‘drop’ reminded me of a similar case in my high school days; a young man by the name of Willoughby Bunsteader was secretly enamored of a young woman by the name of Graveline Potts.  He could never muster the courage to speak to her, or even approach her, until one day  between geometry and Spanish class she dropped her protractor.  Willoughby seized upon the opportunity and rushed forward, scooping the protractor off the floor with great dexterity and returning it to Miss Potts.  Her smile and warn thank you, combined with his own sudden action, instantly dissolved Willoughby’s prior reticence, and, almost at once he became a most ardent suitor.

Joan:  Most ardent?  You mean like sending flowers?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, flowers.

Joan: And chocolates?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, in the heart-shaped box and all.

Joan:  Wow.  And writing poems to her?

Uncle Charlie:  Well, perhaps not that far, after all no young man likes it to be known that he writes poetry, unless of course he has a British accent, or perhaps a rugged-looking scar on his cheek.  Willoughby however spoke with as pure a Midwestern twang as the best of us, and his cheeks still looked as soft as a babies bottom.  Bold as he may be in bestowing flowers and chocolates, he knew ’twas best to give poetry a pass.  Theirs was a great high-school romance, and it didn’t end there either.  They stayed together all through college and were eventually married.  They have seven children together.

Joan:    All  because a girl dropped her protractor.

Uncle Charlie:  Exactly my dear, and I say what worked on Willoughby may also work on your young man.  All you need to do is drop something.

Joan:  I haven’t got a protractor on me at the moment.  Here’s a pen, do you think that would work?

Uncle Charlie:  Sure, anything like that.

Joan:  Here goes.  Drops pen to ground.

Enter two young looking teenage boys.  One stops, picks up pen, and hands it to Joan.

Young teenage boy:  Here you go m’am.

Joan:  Thanks.

Exit two teenage boys.

Joan:  Did you hear that?  He called me m’am.  What do I look like, somebodies grandmother?

Uncle Charlie:  Probably a couple of freshmen.  You know how everyone else in high school looks so much older when you’re a freshman.

Joan:  Freshman or not, I think he needs to have his eyes examined.

Lou:  Look, here come two seniors, both of them starters on the football team.  Try it with them.

Joan:  Okay, here goes again.  Drops pen as two high school senior  boys enter.  One picks up pen and hands it to Joan.

First senior:  Here you go, you dropped this.

Joan:  Thank you.  Say, you guys are on the football team, aren’t you?

Second senior:  That’s right.

Joan:  You know, I go to all the home games.

First senior:  That’s great.  I remember I loved going to all the Milford home games when I was in middle school too.  Well, we gotta go.

Second senior:  Yeah, bye little girl.

Exit two high school senior teenage boys.

Joan:  Did you hear that Uncle Charlie?  Little girl!

Uncle Charlie:  Don’t lose heart Joan.

Joan:  You know the problem with me?  I’ve got no feminine charm.   I’m just a dud.

Uncle Charlie:  Nonsense my dear. None of those was the right boy.  You wait, you’ll see when your young man comes along. Now on to the wax museum.  Once I introduce you to Mort, I want you to finish telling me about the strange noises and things going on at the Little Theatre.  I think if there really is anything going on there, he can be of help in solving the mystery.

Lighting shifts to a different part of the stage, where Cesar is seated at a bench as Ilinca enters.

Ilinca:  There you are, you good for nothing.  Where have you been all this time?

Cesar:  My darling, I have been here the whole time, I swear it.

Ilinca: Doing what, watching all the pretty girls go by?

Cesar:  I have watched not even a single one.  I have been sitting here listening.

Ilinca:  Listening, eh?  To what have you been listening for so long?  Is there some concert going on?  I hear nothing that could keep you here for so long just listening.

Cesar:  Shhh.  If you will just be quiet, I will explain everything to you.  Now, come, sit down beside me.  What I have to say will give you something to think about, then you will be glad I sit here for so long.

Ilinca:  Always you give me plenty to think about, but  never it makes me feel glad.  Always you give me  great big headache, chasing after the pretty girls.

Cesar:  Me?  I never chased after a one.

Ilinca:  No, never a one.  Maybe two or three or four! Who knows how many?

Cesar:  Ilinca, believe me, I never chase after the pretty girls.

Ilinca:  Aha!  So you admit you notice how pretty are all the girls!

Cesar:  Me?  No, I notice no such things.  All the girls look all the same to me:  no pretty, just all like, like my mother.

Ilinca:  Your mother is very beautiful woman.

Cesar:  Sure, but she is my mother, I no notice such a thing in my own mother.  That’s the way I see all the other girls. even if other people see pretty girl, I see just the same as my mother.

 

To be continued …

 

Copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 6 (Campfire Creepers 3)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery-comedy script. Click here to start at Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Bonita:    What a time to be dressed up as a gorilla.  Poor Mortimer.

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, poor Mortimer.  It seems a sector of the dragnet reached the village of Milford just as trick or treating was in full swing.  Mortimer, I understand, had climbed a tree in order to re-enact the scene in which Mighty Joe Young rescues a child from a burning building.   Afterwards Mort told me he thought the boy he had selected was willingly helping him with the re-enactment by climbing up the tree in front of him so he could be rescued.

Bonita: Was the child trying to help Mortimer with his re-enactment?

Uncle Charlie:  No, the poor thing was frightened out of his wits.  Apparently he had never seen Mighty Joe Young,  he believed Mort was a real gorilla.  The boy  was climbing the tree to  escape.

Bonita:  Oh no.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh no is right, for that is the moment when the search party arrived.

Joan:  Oh no.  Did they –did they–?

Uncle Charlie:  I’m afraid they did.  The trooper, I am told was an expert marksman.  Mortimer went down on the first shot.

Bonita:  Oh, how terrible.

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, and then as the crowd approached his still, silent body, lying on the cold, hard  ground, someone noticed the gap between his costume and his headpiece.  A brave person stepped forward, and to the astonishment and horror of all, removed the mask, revealing the face of poor, dear Mortimer.

Bonita:  How awful.

Uncle Charlie:  I am told several women went into hysterics, and strong men fainted.

Bonita:  Where did they shoot him?

Uncle Charlie:  Just over there, on Hickory Street.

Bonita:  No, I mean where, where did the shot hit him?

Uncle Charlie:  Well, as I said, the Trooper was an expert marksman.  He got Mortimer right in the fleshy part.

Lou:  The fleshy part?

Bonita:  What I think Uncle Charlie means Lou, is the behind.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right my dear,   you have found the mot juste: the behind.

Lou:  The behind?    Would that be anything like the derriere?

Uncle Charlie:  What’s this Lou?  La Belle Langue?

Lou: No Uncle Charlie, it’s French.  Remember I was telling you I know some French words?

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, French, of course.  My mistake.

Lou:  That’s okay Uncle Charlie, we all make mistakes.  Although I am a little surprised you didn’t know that derriere is  Frenchwhat with your bows and all.   I mean, everybody knows derriere, it’s practically the first thing they teach you in French class.

Uncle Charlie:  Practically the first thing, you say? I take it then that you have French as a foreign language class this semester.

Lou:  Me? No.  My friend Lenny is taking French.  He passes the important stuff on to me.

Uncle Charlie:  Your friend Lenny you say?

Lou:  That’s right.

Uncle Charlie:  Some day you must regale me with the full story of this linguistic wizard, but for now, let us resume our tale.

Bonita:   Uncle Charlie, I don’t understand, how did one shot in the fleshy part bring Mortimer down so suddenly?

Uncle Charlie:  Because of course they had dosed the tranquilizer dart for a four hundred pound adult male gorilla, when actually they were firing at  a one hundred and thirty pound teen-aged boy.

Bonita:  Oh, a dart!   Uncle Charlie, I wished you would have made that clear from the beginning.

Uncle Charlie:  Didn’t I child?  My dear, I am sorry.  Of course it was just a dart, and dear old Mortimer was right as rain again in a few days.

Lou:  I bet he gave up on making such real looking costumes after that.

Uncle Charlie:  To the contrary Lou, when Mortimer thought about how so many people had been convinced he was a real gorilla, even trained veterinary professionals and the State Troopers,  he realized he had a special gift.  Mortimer turned his gift into a  trade, and after going away to study chemistry for a few years, started his very own wax museum.

Lou:  Did you say your friend Mort studied chemistry, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  I did.

Lou:  Is he good at it?

Uncle Charlie:  Mort is, I am fairly certain, a genius at chemistry, among other things.

Lou:  Oh boy, maybe I can get him to help me with my homework.  That stuff is hard.

Bonita:  So Uncle Charlie, when you say  a wax museum, do you mean with life- sized figures of famous people?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s the kind.

Lou:  People like George Washington and Abraham Lincoln?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes.

Bonita:  And Julius Caesar and Cleopatra?

Uncle Charlie: Yes.

Huntz:  And Louis Armstrong ?

Joan: And Amelia Earhart?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s it, exactly.

Huntz:  Oh boy, I would love to see that.  It’s too bad your friend Mort moved away.

Uncle Charlie:  Who said anything about Mortimer moving away?

Huntz:  Didn’t you just tell us he started his own wax museum with all those live-sized replicas of famous people?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes I did.

Huntz:  Well then he must have moved away;  there was never anything like that around here.

Uncle Charlie:  Of course there was, and is, Huntz.  Haven’t you ever heard of the Milford Wax Museum?

Huntz:  Milford Wax Museum?   I never heard of such a place.  Where is this wax museum?

Uncle Charlie:  It’s right over there, across Main Street.

Huntz:  I don’t  remember ever seeing a wax museum on Main Street.

Uncle Charlie:  You’re not alone, Huntz.  The fact is, most people don’t know of its existence either.  Besides his talent as an artist with make-up and wax, Mortimer is also possessed of a very peculiar gift — a gift of camouflage, or, illusion.

Joan:  Illusion?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, Mortimer somehow manages to make his wax museum seem invisible to the casual passer-by.

Lou:  Invisible?  You mean like the Invisible Man?  How does he do that?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s a mystery, Lou.  I only know that he does.  Many is the time I’ve caught myself walking right past Morts wax museum without even seeing it.  I sometimes  get a chill wondering how he does it.  Very mysterious.

Huntz:  Uncle Charlie, you have to show us this place.

Lou:  Are you kidding, Huntz ?  That place sound creepy.

Joan:  And eerie.

Uncle Charlie:  Does it to you?  But of course you’ve never been there.  I have been through Mort’s wax museum many times, and I find it neither creepy, nor eerie, just mysterious.

Lou:  I’ll take mysterious and leave it alone.

Uncle Charlie: You mean you are not interested in seeing the Milford Wax Museum?

Lou:  What, a place that disappears right here on Main Street?  You bet I’m not interested.   What if it disappears when we’re inside?

Uncle Charlie:  It doesn’t disappear Lou.  Like I said a moment ago, it simply seems invisible, but it’s right there the whole time.  We’ll all be perfectly safe.

Lou:   Sure, sure, perfectly safe in an invisible wax museum.  And  another thing I just thought of:  I bet he even has a chamber of horrors in there.  All those wax museums have a chamber of horrors.

Uncle Charlie:  You mean with wax figures of those monsters?

Lou:  Yeah, Frankenstein’s monster, and the Wolf-man, and Dracula.

Uncle Charlie:  I must be truthful with you Lou, he has all of those, and more.

Lou:   You’re not getting me into any wax museum with guys like the Frankenstein monster and the Wolf-man and Dracula inside.

Uncle Charlie:  But then you will miss seeing the Bride of Frankenstein that Mort completed just last year, she is stunning, and life-like,  if that term applies in this case, to the finest detail.  I am told that in the right light, and if a person is the least bit imaginative, Mort’s figures  actually appear to move.

Lou:  To move?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, to move.  One friend told me that as he walked past the figure of the Wolf-man he could have sworn he felt a hairy hand, or a paw upon his shoulder.  Another friend said that once, as he was looking at  Dracula, he could  feel the vampire’s eyes boring in to his own, then, as he hurried away, he could feel the flutter of bats wings practically bush his face in the darkness.

Lou:  That does it!  Chemistry homework or no chemistry homework, I’m not going into any wax museum that has hairy hands that grab you, and vampire eyes, and bats and who knows what else!

Uncle Charlie:  But Lou, wait until you hear this:  Last time I saw Mort he was working  on a new project for the gallery, but he was keeping it’s identity a secret.  Don’t you want to find out what it is?

Lou:  No thank you, I’ve had enough.  Between the strange things going on at the Little Theatre, and Halloween just around the corner, I don’t need any life-like monsters to help  keep me  awake at night.  I’m doing that right now all by myself.

Uncle Charlie: Suit yourself Lou, but you’ll be missing out on a great experience.

 

To be continued. . .

 

Copyright  2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

Campfire Creepers 3–Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 5r)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Click here to read Campfire Creepers 3: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum(part 4)

Click here to start at Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

 

Uncle Charlie:  Well spoken, Huntz.  Now, if you and Bonita will allow me to proceed without revisiting the tale of the vacuum cleaner and the locket, I would like to make sure I understood something Joan said a few moments ago about the middle school play.    Lou are you not helping with the play this year?  I thought you liked the theatre.

Lou:  I like it okay as long as I’m onstage or in the booth, but I don’t like being backstage at the Little Theatre during rehearsal.  It’s too dark.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, come on Lou, with all those kids around ?  You aren’t seriously frightened in the dark at the Little Theatre.

Lou:  It’s not just that I’m scared of the dark.  It’s getting pretty close to Halloween and I can’t  help thinking about monsters and things whenever I’m alone.  Besides that, there are other things.

Uncle Charlie:  Other things?  What other things, Lou?

Lou:  Strange noises for one thing.

Uncle Charlie:  It seems I remember there are always strange noises backstage during rehearsal and set building.

Bonita: This is different, Uncle Charlie, and it’s more than just noises too.

Uncle Charlie:  Like some of Lou’s vivid imagination, perhaps. And you’ve got it too, Bonita?  Tell me which monsters you’ve been thinking about, Lou?

Lou:  Usually the Frankenstein monster, or the Wolfman, or Dracula.

Uncle Charlie:  Hmm, the classics.    Do  the kids still dress up as those  characters at Halloween?

Lou:  Oh sure,  every year I  see a lot of vampires, a Frankenstein monster or two, plus the occasional werewolf.  There are some new ones though, that aren’t based on monsters.  I know this one guy who’s dressing up as  a gorilla this year.

Uncle Charlie:  You’ve just reminded me of a friend of mine.  When we were both about your age, he dressed up as a gorilla.  Are any of you familiar with the motion picture Mighty Joe Young?

Joan: Isn’t that the one about the girl  who gets talked into bringing a giant gorilla back  to the states with her by a promoter or something?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s the one.  Well, Mortimer, that’s my friend’s name, though he usually went by Mort,  Mortimer had a real affinity for that gorilla Joe, practically hero worship, so I suppose it’s no surprise that he dressed up as a gorilla for Halloween that year.  His costume was all homemade and most convincing.  Mortimer was already adept at making things out of old discarded items, and doing all kinds of special effects with stage make up and such.  He put together the fur covering of the gorilla from worn out women’s coats, and in the dark on Halloween night, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between my friend Mort and a real gorilla.

Huntz:  Really, it was that good?

Uncle Charlie:  Well, so I was told.  You see, I never actually witnessed  Mortimer in character as Mighty Joe Young on Halloween night.  I was bobbing for apples and drinking cider at your Aunt Elizabeth’s parents house that night, so all of my information is purely second-hand.  But I did see him try it out in the daytime on the thirtieth.  Yes, he was very convincing.

Bonita:  It sounds like you friend Mortimer must have been the hit of Halloween that year.

Uncle Charlie:  I suppose he would have been, if that circus hadn’t been passing through the area.

Lou: Circus?  There was a circus here in Milford?

Uncle Charlie:  In Highland to be precise.  Their caravan had stopped in front of  Highland Junior High School due to mechanical trouble with one of the trucks.   During the stop, their gorilla, King Conga, I believe was his name, escaped.

Huntz:  Did he break out by bending the bars of his cage?

Uncle Charlie:  No.  I was informed that King Conga was a highly trained and very intelligent gorilla;  he distracted his keeper by throwing banana peels up on the sidewalk to the school.  Every time the keeper would come back with an empty peel, the gorilla would toss another peel further up the sidewalk.  Finally, when he put one practically right on the front step, and while the keeper was going to retrieve it, the gorilla slipped his lock and made good his escape.  As his good fortune would have it, he almost immediately discovered a skateboard that had been left there by a careless student earlier in the day.  Upon his return to the cage, the keeper was stunned to find it empty, and as he ran to the front of the truck to alert the others to the missing gorilla, he saw King Conga riding south on John Street, still eating bananas and strewing the peels as he went. Well, the keeper raced after Conga on foot, but the gorilla already had a considerable head start, and was making good speed on the skateboard.  By the time the keeper reached Livingston Road, the banana trail ended.  In the dark, it was impossible for him to tell whether the gorilla had gone east or west on Livingston, but the keeper later told reporters that he was almost certain King Conga stuck out his left arm to signal a turn before he disappeared in the darkness, in which case the gorilla  would seem to have turned east on Livingston.

Lou:  Wait a minute!  Wait a minute!

Uncle Charlie:  Yes Lou?

Lou: You say there was a gorilla riding a skateboard down John Street in Highland?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, Lou.

Lou:  And he rode all the way down to Livingston, and then signaled for a left turn on Livingston?

Uncle Charlie:  You follow the narrative precisely.

Lou:  And you expect us to believe that?

Uncle Charlie:  You think he turned off on Ruggles?  I find that highly unlikely, remember the trail of banana peels–

Lou:  Okay, okay, never mind.  So the gorilla turned east of Livingston Road.  What happened next?

Uncle Charlie:  The circus people notified the local authorities, who  hurriedly organized  search parties consisting of trained veterinary specialists, local police, the Oakland County sheriff, and even  the State Police.    It was on the radio and everything, very big news for our little community.  I remember hearing the broadcast announcement just as I came up soaking wet with an apple in my mouth.  “Police mount dragnet to search for escaped gorilla in Highland.  Animal last seen heading in general direction of Milford.  Trick-or-treaters advised to use extra caution, and avoid large, hairy characters.”

to be continued . . .

Click here to read Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 6 (Campfire Creepers 3)

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

Campfire Creepers 3: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum(part 4)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery -comedy script. Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three–Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 3)

 

Uncle Charlie:  Joan, Joan, I must apologize, for I don’t think I made myself sufficiently clear a moment ago.  What I meant to convey was that while I am sure this young man exists, in theory and in fact somewhere, I am not however aware of his identity nor of his particular presence nearby at this  moment.

Joan:  Oh, so you don’t know who he is?

Uncle Charlie:  I am sorry dear, no.

Joan:  Oh well, thanks anyway Uncle Charlie.  It’s just like I said before, no boy ever gives me a second look.

Uncle Charlie:  Nonsense Joan, your young man is just shy, like Lou is with Emily.

Joan:  Like Lou?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, and he’s probably someone you see everyday at school, and you have no clue he has a crush on you, like Lou.

Joan:  Like Lou?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right.  Why I wouldn’t be surprised if any day now he finally gets the nerve and walks up to you and speaks.

Joan:  Like Lou?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, like Lou.

Joan:  I don’t know if I want to be gargled at, Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie:  Not exactly like Lou my dear, just in principle.  Perhaps your young man is not a gargler.   For all we know, he may be a goggler.

Joan:  A what?

Uncle Charlie:  A goggler;  one who goggles.  To goggle: to stare with bulging or wide open eyes.  While Webster’s doesn’t comment on this specific, I always think of a goggler as being speechless while goggling.  Certainly you’ve seen that look:  the bulging, blank eyes, the dumb expression, the sagging jaw, the gaping mouth.  That’s the look of a shy young man gazing upon his adored object.  Surely you’ve seen that look on some boys face Joan.

Joan:  I don’t know Uncle Charlie,  goggling sounds almost as bad as gargling.  Do you suppose there’s a nice boy out there somewhere who would just be able to talk?

Uncle Charlie:  Of course there is dear.  I must bend my mind to this matter to help you from being discouraged.   A change of subject is what I need for the moment.   Tell me what else has been going on in your lives.

Joan: Bonita and Huntz and I are helping out with the middle school play.

Lou: Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes Lou?

Lou: What are you doing with that?

Uncle Charlie:  This?  The vacuum cleaner?

Lou:  Yes.  Why are you carrying a vacuum cleaner around downtown Milford?

Mill Valley Vacuum and Sewing. Main Street, Milford, MI

Uncle Charlie:  Well I have to take it to Max to have it serviced.

Lou:  Max?  Who’s Max.

Uncle Charlie:  Max is the man who owns the vacuum shop here in Milford.   Your Aunt Elizabeth  asked me to take it to him to have it fixed.  She can’t stand the terrible noise.

Lou:  This fellow Max, he makes a terrible noise?

Uncle Charlie:  No Lou!  The vacuum cleaner makes a terrible noise.  I’m taking it, the vacuum cleaner, to him,  Max, so he can find out why it’s making the noise and fix it.

Lou:  Okay.  I get it. The vacuum cleaner is making a terrible noise and you are taking it to get it fixed.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right.  Now Joan, you were saying–

Lou:  Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes  Lou?

Lou:  It looks like something is about to fall out of your pocket.

Uncle Charlie:  Thank you Lou.  I wouldn’t want to loose that.

Lou;  What is it, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  What, this?  This is a locket.  Your Aunt Elizabeth asked me to take it to Charlie to have it repaired.

Lou:  Now let me get this straight:  you’re taking that locket in your pocket to have it repaired by Charlie, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, that’s right.

Lou:  Joan, I think something has upset Uncle Charlie, he’s talking about himself in the third person.

Uncle Charlie:  No, I’m all right Lou.  I’m not Charlie.  Charlie is the jeweler to whom I’m taking the locket.

Lou: You’re not Charlie, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right Lou.

Lou:  Joan, I think you better stay with Uncle Charlie while I go for help.

Uncle Charlie:  No Lou, Charlie is not me.  I’m you’re Uncle Charlie.  Charlie is an entirely different person.

Lou:  Now he thinks he’s two different people.  Oh, poor Uncle Charlie.  Wait till Aunt Elizabeth hears about this.

Charlie’s Jewelry Creations, Main Street, Milford, MI

Joan:  Lou, I think what Uncle Charlie is trying to say is that there is another man, also named Charlie, and that man is the jeweler to whom our Uncle Charlie is going to take Aunt Elizabeth’s locket to be repaired.  Isn’t that right Uncle Charlie?

 

Uncle Charlie:  Exactly, my dear.

Lou:  Oh, is that it?  Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, if only I had made myself clear from the beginning.  Ah, here are your cousins now.

Enter Bonita and Huntz.

Uncle Charlie:  You two are just in  time .

Bonita:  Hello everybody,  I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.

Huntz:  Yeah, sorry we’re a little late.  What are we just in time for, Uncle Charlie, is something the matter?

Uncle Charlie: Nothing the matter, Huntz, it’s just  your arrival is very timely in preventing me from being pulled deeper into a dizzying verbal vortex of confusion.

Huntz:  Say that again, Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie:  To put it another way, I am practically reeling from the linguistic contortions that accompany any attempt to carry on a conversation with Lou and Joan.

Huntz:  You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves.  Show me the bruises Uncle Charlie.  If only I had some liniment, I could give you a nice rub down.

Bonita:  Huntz, Uncle Charlie said contortions, not contusions.

Huntz:  Contortions?  You mean like those people who twist their bodies up like a pretzel?

Bonita:  That’s right.

Huntz:  Uncle Charlie, I didn’t know you were a contortionist.

Uncle Charlie:  I am not a contortionist Huntz.  I was speaking figuratively about mental contortions.

Huntz:  Mental contortions?  Oh, I get it:  confused, twisted, and seemingly pointless reasoning as the result of a misapprehension of  a word or phrase.

 

to be continued . . .

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 3)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three– Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part2)

 

Joan:  A bow?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, a beau.  Oh, I don’t mean to embarrass you and put you on the spot like this.  I just thought maybe you or Bonita might be able to give Lou some advice to help him ease into speaking to this young lady.  Put it out of your mind dear, I’ll just wait for Bonita.

Joan:  You don’t have to wait for Bonita, Uncle Charlie.  I can help.

Uncle Charlie:  You mean you have a beau?

Joan:  One bow?  Heck, I’ve got two.

Uncle Charlie:  Two At the same time?

Joan:  Sure.  One bow doesn’t do a girl much good.

Uncle Charlie:  No?

Joan: No.  I’d look pretty silly walking around with just one bow, wouldn’t  I?

Uncle Charlie:  Would you?

Joan:  Sure.  A girl in high school has to think about these things.    She can’t just run around with bubble gum in her hair and marker on her face and just one bow like she could in middle school.

Uncle Charlie:  She can’t?

Joan:  Of course not.  I made that mistake my freshman year, but I’ve got it figured out now.

Uncle Charlie:    Let me make sure I have this straight, Joan.  You have not one beau, but two, both at the same time, simultaneously?

Joan:  That’s right.

Uncle Charlie:  Do they know about each other?

Joan:  That’s kind of an odd question Uncle Charlie.  I don’t think they know anything.

Uncle Charlie: You don’t think they know anything?  How can you make such a statement?

Joan:    After all,  they’re  just a couple of inanimate objects.

Uncle Charlie:  Inanimate objects!  Joan, I am surprised at you.

Joan:  Why Uncle Charlie?  Mom always taught me not to be materialistic about things.

Uncle Charlie:  Not materialistic about things?  Joan, a beau is not a thing.

Joan:  It is according to Mother.

Uncle Charlie:  Your mother, my sister, said that?  What else did she teach you?

Joan:  Mom taught me plenty.  The first thing  you’ve got to learn is how to wrap the little buggers around your finger.

Uncle Charlie:  Wrap them around your finger!?

Joan:  Sure, otherwise how do you expect them to behave?

Uncle Charlie:  To behave!  Like they were an obedient dog or a trained circus seal!

Joan:  Hardly like that Uncle Charlie, but if they don’t stay in their place, honestly, what good are they?

Uncle Charlie:  What good are they?  Joan, my dear, please tell me that you don’t mean to say a beau has no intrinsic value to you.

Joan:  Of course it does Uncle Charlie, as long as it stays in its place.  But Mom also taught me not to get too attached to them, and not to get upset if  one breaks.

Uncle Charlie:  If one breaks?  Of course you’re speaking figuratively my dear, as in breaking one of your beaux hearts.

Joan:  That’s a good one Uncle Charlie.  A bow hasn’t got any heart.

Uncle Charlie;  No brain and no heart!  What is the younger generation coming to?

Joan:  We’re thrifty Uncle Charlie.   Mom taught me that too. You’ll like this:  she said if one breaks that I should put it with the other one, tie ’em both together, and make two smaller bows so I’ll learn not to be so rough on the next pair.

Uncle Charlie:  On the next pair!  You’d think you were talking about shoe laces.

Joan:  I am taking about shoe laces Uncle Charlie.  What did you think I was talking about?

Uncle Charlie:  You were talking about shoelaces?   Shoelaces. Of course, then it all makes sense.  You see, Joan, the word beau I  was using is a French word, —

Lou: Uncle Charlie, I know some French words.  Would you like to hear them?

Uncle Charlie:  Later perhaps Lou, I am trying to explain something to Joan.  As I was saying Joan, beau  is a French word meaning boyfriend.  I assumed you also knew , so when you started talking about your bows, I mistakenly thought  —

Joan:  Uncle Charlie!  Don’t tell me you  thought that  when I was talking about wrapping my shoelaces around my finger,  you thought I was telling you how I treat my boyfriend?

Uncle Charlie:  Two boyfriends.

Joan:  Two?  Imagine that, a spare.

Uncle Charlie:  Of course it was all just a silly misunderstanding.

Joan:   Silly?  It’s ridiculous, I mean,  I’m not greedy.  I would settle for just one.

Uncle Charlie:  Naturally —

Joan:  On second thought,  a spare boyfriend might  come in handy in case the first one gives me the slip, I mean, in case I break up with the first one.  Wait a minute, who am I kidding?  Me, talking about boyfriends, when none of the boys in school as so much as given me a second look.

Uncle Charlie:  I’m sure you must be mistaken about that my dear.

Joan:  I don’t think so Uncle Charlie. I keep trying to catch just one at it, but no luck.

Uncle Charlie:  Still, I’m positive that right now there exists some young man who’s been giving you plenty of second looks.

Joan:  Really, right now?  Don’t let him get away.  Lou, how does my hair look?

Lou:  Your hair looks fine.

Joan:  Really, you’re not just saying that?

Lou: Why would I just say that?  Your hair looks fine.  It looks like your hair always looks.

Joan:  But my hair always looks a mess.

Lou:  What do I know  about fine hair from hair that’s a  mess?  I don’t pay much attention to your hair.

Joan:  I’ll bet you pay attention to Emily’s hair.

Lou:  Ah, but Emily is Emily, and you are my cousin.

Joan:  Of all the times to be stuck with an uncle and a boy cousin.  Oh, if only Bonita were here already. What a girl needs at a moment like this  is reinforcements.

 

To be continued …

Click here to read Campfire Creepers 3: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum(part 4)

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part2)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Uncle Charlie:  Always a pleasure Lou. But now enough about these other young women.  Tell me about your Emily.

Lou:  Uncle Charlie!

Uncle Charlie:  Yes Lou?

Lou: What you just said.

Uncle Charlie:  What I just said?

Lou:  Yes.  It was music to my ears.

Uncle Charlie:  Ah, you mean ‘tell me about your Emily’?

Lou: That’s it! Say it again please, Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie;  Very well.  Tell me about your Emily.

Lou:  Thank you.

Uncle Charlie: Well?

Lou: Well what?

Uncle Charlie:  Aren’t you going to tell me about her?

Lou:  Didn’t I already tell you that she’s sweet and doesn’t laugh at me and is a cutie-pie, and oh, did I mention that I think she’s wonderful?  My greatest dream right now is to take her to the homecoming dance.

Uncle Charlie:  She sounds like a wonderful girl Lou.  How does she feel about you?

Lou: I don’t know.

Uncle Charlie:  You don’t know?  Well then, what was her response when you asked her to the dance?

Lou:  I don’t know.

Uncle Charlie:   You mean you haven’t asked her?

Lou: No.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, I get it, cold feet.

Lou:  How’s that?

Uncle Charlie:  I said ‘cold feet’.

Lou: Oh, cold feet?  I don’t know.

Uncle Charlie:  What do you mean you don’t know?

Lou:  Well, I mean, I’ve hardly even spoken to Emily, and I would feel kind of silly asking her to take her shoes off.

Uncle Charlie:  Not her feet, Lou, yours!  Cold feet is an expression that means you lost your nerve .

Lou: Oh, lost your nerve is cold feet?  I think I’ve got cold body.  I don’t even think I ever had the nerve to tell Emily how much I like her to lose it in the first place.

Uncle Charlie:  I’m sure that makes sense somehow, if we only had the time to figure it out.  You say you have at least spoken to her?

Lou:  Yes, well, I guess you could say I have.

Uncle Charlie:  Hmm, you guess I could.  What did you say?

Lou: Not much.

Uncle Charlie:  Did you tell her your name?

Lou: I tried, but I had a little trouble.

Uncle Charlie: What exactly did you say?

Lou:  I think it was something like Urk.

Uncle Charlie: Uk?

Lou:  No, Urk.

Uncle Charlie:  You tried to tell her your name and all you said was Urk?  How do you get Urk from Lou?

Lou:  I’m not sure, Uncle Charlie, but I think the L kind of got stuck in my throat, did a back flip and came out the other side as an rk.

Uncle Charlie:  So does this girl even know your name?

Lou:  Oh sure, she’s heard the teacher call on me.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s a start at least.  And does Emily ever talk to you?

Lou:  Does she!  Her voice is like the voice of an angel.  Her words are like music from heaven.

Uncle Charlie:  Now we’re getting somewhere.  What does this angelic voice say to you?

Lou:  Well, one day she say ‘Hi Lou”, and another time she said ‘How are you today?’. Oh, and wait till you hear this, just the other day she told me she thought I gave a good answer when the teacher called on me in class.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s pretty strong stuff, I can see why you’re all a twitter.  But from what I can tell you’re leaving this poor girl to do all the talking.  You say you haven’t been able to tell her your name, but have you at least been able to speak her name?

Lou:  You mean Emily?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, Emily.

Lou:  I just spoke it just now.

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, but that’s to me.  What about to her?  Does she sit near you in your class together?

Lou:  Yes.  Emily and I sit right next to each other.  Sometimes our desks practically touch.

Uncle Charlie:  Fine then.  I want you to pretend that you are sitting at your desk in class, and that I am Emily and I am sitting at my desk right next to yours.

Lou:  With our desks practically touching?

Uncle Charlie: More than that Lou, with our desks actually touching.  Now remember, we’re pretending that I am Emily, and I want you to look at me and speak my name, just like you would in class to the real Emily.

Lou:  Okay, here goes, just like I would say to the real  E-grgglee. . .

Uncle Charlie:  Try that again Lou, I didn’t quite get it.

Lou: Grggle. . .s.s.s.(hic. . .hic)

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, this is fine.  You two would make  quite a couple at the homecoming dance.  All you can say is Urk and make gargling noises.  Your ability to carry on a conversation with this poor girl will be severely limited, unless by some chance she speaks cave-man.

Lou:  I’m sorry Uncle Charlie.  Maybe I’m just hopeless.

Uncle Charlie:  Never give up hope, my boy.  There must be some way to help you with this debilitating shyness.  What we need is the feminine perspective on this.  Joan, do either you or Bonita  have a beau?

 

To be continued. . .

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three–Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 3)

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (Act One, part 1)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Cast of Characters:

Uncle Charlie,

Four cousins:

Joan,  niece of Uncle Charlie, a student at Milford High School

Lou , nephew of Uncle Charlie, also a student at MHS

Bonita, niece of Uncle Charlie, student at MHS

Huntz, nephew of Uncle Charlie, student at MHS

Cesar:  a handsome young  (mid-twenties) visitor from Carpathian Mountains

Ilinca, betrothed to Cesar, attractive young (early to mid-twenties), high -spirited woman from Carpathian Mountains.

Grigore (Uncle Grigore),  uncle of Ilinca

Mort (Mortimer), childhood friend of Uncle Charlie.  Artistic and chemical genius, owner of mysterious Milford Wax Museum. 

The Professor, Sinister man behind the plot.

Plamen, frightening henchman of the Professor.

 

Setting:  The gazebo in Center Street Park in Milford MI.  Daytime , early autumn.  Uncle Charlie, Lou and Joan.  Uncle Charlie is holding an upright vacuum cleaner.

Uncle Charlie:  Imagine running into you two like this.  I wonder if Bonita and Huntz are around her somewhere, perhaps looking for Pokémon, like all these other people?

Joan:  They should be around any minute.  We told Bonita and Huntz we would meet them here at the gazebo.

Uncle Charlie:  Well then, what shall we do when the gangs all here?  I have a few moments between errands.  Tell me, what has been going on with you two since our last get together at the corn roast?

Joan:  You know, Uncle Charlie, same old thing:  another school year.

Uncle Charlie: Ah,  a fresh year to start learning anew!

Lou:  And homework.

Joan:  New classes, new teachers, catching up with old friends.

Uncle Charlie:  Picking up the threads with old acquaintances, making new ones–

Lou:  And homework.

Joan:  Then there’s the choir.  We’re just getting started, but there are a lot of concerts and other events throughout the year.  It’s going to be very busy.

Uncle Charlie:  Ah, the wonderful, wide spectrum of the performing arts: vocal music, the theatre, the band;  the spectacle of the marching band performing during halftime, or marching down this very street  for the Thanksgiving Parade;the intellectual rigors of debate, the science clubs and competitions;  the vast range of the athletic arena: the gridiron, the court, the diamond to name but a few, the heroic efforts, the thrilling victories, the heartbreaking defeats–

Lou: The homework.

Uncle Charlie:  Lou, you seem to have a one track mind.

Lou:  I don’t have a one track mind Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie:  My dear nephew, the whole time Joan has been telling me all about the many things going on in her sophomore year of high school,  all you have been able to contribute to the conversation is  ‘homework’.  If that isn’t a one track mind, I’d like to know what is.  What is this strange obsession you have with homework, aren’t you  getting enough?

Lou: Not getting enough!  Are you kidding?  Everyday I take my homework to school with me.  I drop the homework off with my teachers in each one of my classes.  I always feel  kind of sad because I worked so hard on it, but I tear myself away and say bye-bye to the homework and I start to feel pretty good, but then every day when I leave school to go home–BAM– I’ve got more homework.  I just can’t seem to shake it.

Uncle Charlie:  Lou, am I to understand that you think you have too much homework?

Lou:  Uncle Charlie, you never spoke a truer word.

Uncle Charlie:  Why Lou, I’m surprised at you.  Homework is like the pick and shovel to the goldmine of knowledge that rewards those who work for it.  Imagine yourself as a prospector–

Lou: A what?

Uncle Charlie:  A prospector.  Prospector.  You know what a prospector is, don’t you?

Lou:  Sure, Uncle Charlie.  A prospector is the guy who stands in front of the judge and jury and tries to prove the guy on trial  did it.

Uncle Charlie:  No, no, that’s a prosecutor.

Lou: I thought prosecutor was a kind of  ham.

Uncle Charlie:  No, that’s prosciutto.

Lou: Pros – what now?

Uncle Charlie:  Prosciutto.  Prosciutto.

Lou: Gazoontyke.

Uncle Charlie:  I didn’t sneeze.  I was trying to tell you the name of that ham.

Lou:  Oh yeah.  What was it again?

Uncle Charlie: Prosciutto.

Lou: Can you spell that?

Uncle Charlie:  Let’s see. P as in pineapple, R as in rosebud, O as in ostrich, S as in sasquatch, C as in cutie–

Lou: Is cutie a real word?

Uncle Charlie:  Alright then, cute, cutie, cutie-pie, take you pick.  Now where was I?  Ah yes, I as in incoherent, U as in unintelligible–

Lou: That reminds me of a girl.

Uncle Charlie:  Incoherent, or unintelligible?

Lou:  No, what you said before that.

Uncle Charlie:  Sasquatch reminds you of a girl?

Lou;  No, in between.  Cute, cutie, cutie-pie, take you pick.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, I see.  There is a certain young lady to whom you are particularly attracted?

Lou: Yeah, and I think she’s sweet too.  And you know what else?  She’s about the only girl in school who doesn’t seem like she’s about to bust out laughing every time she looks at me.

Uncle Charlie:  What do you do to elicit such a reaction from the rest of the female contingent of your school?

Lou:  Nothing!  That’s just it.  Emily, that’s her name, Emily is the only girl in the school who takes me seriously.  She’s almost  the only one who doesn’t make me feel the biggest, dumbest dope in the whole place.

Uncle Charlie:  Possibly Lou you are being over critical of the other young ladies’  opinion of you.

Lou:  You think so Uncle Charlie?  Boy, I sure hope so.  Some days it’s awful hard to go to school when you feel  like you’re just a big jerk.

Uncle Charlie:  But you’re not a big jerk Lou.  You know that.

Lou:  Yeah, I know. Thanks for reminding me,  Uncle Charlie.

 

To be continued . . .

 

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three– Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part2)

 

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris