"Okay."

He was acting kind of strange for sure, I thought. Now, though, with the stage and the day before us, I didn't dwell on the issue.

Nor did I have much time to do so.

"Hello, Rebecca!" called a voice from behind me.

I turned.

There stood Peter.

Peter Harrigan!

"Peter?" I said, voice no doubt betraying disbelief.

"None other!" said the dashing fellow behind me. There was a big smile on Peter Harrigan's long face. His adorable wave of hair hung down over his forehead, draping over his dark eyes. Those eyes that were focused now, only on me. "My you're looking - very bright today, Lucy! Resurrected from the grave!"

"Yes. Uh - sure," I said. I remembered to laugh a bit. He'd made a sort of joke. I should laugh. Right. I felt I should say something witty now, but it just didn't come out. Peter looked very handsome and dashing in a nice striped blue sweater that fitted snuggly over the top of his neatly creased cream slacks. He had on some kind of cologne that smelled very nice indeed. Just enough civilization to it, just enough maleness. My hormones got up, curtsied, and danced with his pheromones.

"What's the occasion?" said Peter.

"Just - uhm - a bit of a lark I guess."

"Trying on a different character?"

"Sure," I said. "Sure, I guess you could say that."

"Well, you look very, very nice indeed."

"Why thank you, Peter!"

"Might I sit with you and your friend...uh..."

"Harold."

"Harold. Hello, Harold."

"Hi," said Harold, a bit aghast at the whole business.

"Sit with us? Uh - yes. Why not?"

Peter skipped around happily and sat right across the table.

I turned around and looked at him.

He looked terrific and dashing, and the fact that he was looking at me, paying attention to me was quite staggering.

"The play is coming along very well, isn't it?"

"It's my first, so I really can't say," I said.

"You're going to see it, aren't you Harold?" said Peter.

"Many times, I'm sure."

"Good. Anyway, Rebecca, I spoke to Mr. Crawley yesterday. He's very excited. He's definitely entered us in the state competitions."

"Peter! That's terrific!"

"Yes, indeed it is! And best of all - I'm having a smashingly good time! You know, Mr. Crawley was right. I get a lot more stage time as Van Helsing than I would have as Dracula. And it...stretches me some. It gives a whole new vista to my sense of what I can do. What I can accomplish as an actor."

"It certainly puts more ham on the menu," said Harold acidly.

"Oh yes, of course. But that's part of the fun. Don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know, I'm not an actor," said Harold "Say, pardon me intrusion here....but I was rather wondering... I always see you two together in the mornings and other times I guess. Are you two...dating?"

"Oh no!" I said, maybe too quickly. "Were just really good friends!"

"Okay. I see. I understand. That's great, that's great. I have a lot of good friends too. I was just checking. I wouldn't want to do anything....awkward."

"Awkward?" I said.

"Yes. I mean, like ask you to go to a movie with me, or go out to dinner - or the prom or something like that."

"Uh - no. Like I said, we're just good friends," I said. "You could ask me out, Peter," I said. I smiled. "But if you did, I'd still have to say yes or no."

He blinked. "Oh. Sure. Of course."

"So - is that what you're about to do?" I teased. "Ask me out."

Peter Harrigan looked taken aback. "Well- I often try to get to know the other people in the productions I'm in better."

"That sounds like a good idea," I said. "And I'm sure there are quite a few acting tips you can give me -"

Suddenly, seemingly from out of the blue, a tall figure leaned onto the lunch table, looking directly at me.

"Rebecca!"

It was Emory. Like me he wasn't dressed in his usual black attire. Rather, he wore a suit and a striped red tie. His hair was neatly combed.

"Emory," I said, surprised.

"Rebecca, I've got to speak to you. Right away!"

CHAPTER TWENTY.

HERE WAS HAROLD Lumpkin, my faithful attendant, sitting by my side. And then, Peter Harrigan, my erstwhile crush arrives, hinting about the possibility of some kind of boy-girl date. Finally, who should appear, but my current flame, Emory Clarke - with a demand.

Needless to say, I was overwhelmed by all the attention.

Somehow, though, I managed to overcome my shock.

I looked up.

"Emory! What's going on?" I said.

"Something I need to talk to you about. Alone, I'm afraid," he said. Suddenly looking very formal - and demanding - he stepped around and held out his hand.

Very bemused, I took it and allowed him to help me up.

"Excuse me, Peter," I said. "Maybe we can talk later."

"Oh sure, Rebecca," said Peter, obviously unused to anything resembling rejection and inattention.

Emory led me over to an alcove near the stage, right behind a limp American flag. He looked over to the group, and clearly judged the position was well out of earshot.

"What's happening, Emory?" I said.

"Rebecca, you look - very nice," he said.

"Well thank you, but you dragged me all the way over to tell me that I look nice?"

"No. Something very important is happening."

He paused for a moment, as though gathering himself together. He looked very sweet and handsome, I thought.

"So tell me, tell me, Emory!" I smiled encouragingly.

"It's President Johnson. President Lyndon Johnson. He's coming today!"

"The President? Today?"

"Yes. The dedication. It's going to be at Noon, out in the new courtyard between the regular school and the vocational school. Looks like they worked all weekend to set it up."

"He's going to make a speech?"

"Yes. His helicopter is coming at 11:30 AM. Ceremony is at noon and that's when he makes his speech. All the radio and TV networks will cover it."

"Oh how exciting!" I said. "Sounds like quite the day for Principal Canthorpe. But what's that got to do with me?"

"Well, Daddy's going to be there."

"Senator Clarke?"

"Yes. And he wants you, Rebecca, to be there too. "

"Me? What, at the ceremony?"

"Yes of course. There will be selected students in the audience at the ceremony. The teachers have already handled that. It will be a short ceremony and even though its cold, it's a nice day outside, and they've cleared away most of the snow in the courtyard and set up a stand and seats. Heavy coats, of course, will be de rigueur. Yes, you can come to the ceremony, my father has provided clearance for you. But there's also going to be a waiting room where LBJ will be until the speech, and then a short reception with local politicos and the school superintendent and such. Daddy wants me to be there. And Daddy wants you to be there!"

"Me?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"He was quite impressed with you, Rebecca. Daddy wants to introduce you to LBJ!"

"To the President? He wants to introduce me to the President of the United States of America?"

My mouth must have dropped and my eyes gotten wide because Emory laughed.

"Yes. That's right."

"Oh my God! I don't know if -"

"Oh LBJ can be a very courteous guy. And he just loves pretty young women! He can be very, very gracious. Daddy said, *Emory, that's the kind of girl I'd like that old goat Johnson to see you with. It would make me so proud to have you there by my side with that delightful Rebecca Williams!'"

"You'll be there too?"

"Of course. Why do you think I've got my Sunday go to meetin' duds, as we say down home."

The full impact of the invitation suddenly hit me.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

"Rebecca. Are you okay?"

I managed to suck in a nice deep breath.

"Yes. Yes, Emory." I thought about that for a moment, then changed my mind. "Actually, no. No Emory! The President of the United States! They want me to meet Lyndon Johnson!"

"Oh, he's all formal when he's giving speeches, but I assure you when he's backstage it'll be Uncle Lyndon at the barbecue. You'll do great!"

"You can understand though why I've got some nerves here."

"Perhaps you should wear your blond wig. I'll introduce you as Lucy."

That unfroze me a bit. I laughed.

"Okay," I said. "Very well. I'll do it."