HAPPY HOUR 5PM-7PM MONDAY-FRIDAY CONGRESS SQUARED RESTAURANT & BAR WWW.CONGRESSSQUARED.COM 157 HIGH ST. • PORTLAND, ME D e c e m b e r 2 0 1 8 9 5 the arms. Petey was short for his age and she was tall for her age, but the costume was still baggy. Her dress bunched up around her thighs. A tail somehow suspended from the back of the neck area. Though she cinched the belt with its plastic sword and scabbard to the smallest size, it sagged on her hips. The mouse head—with its long snout, tall ears and large eyes—was twice the size of her head, but when she lowered it onto her shoulders and tightened the chin strap, she could see through the slits. She could see out, but no one could see in. Boiling in the fur costume, she con- tinued down the hall toward the side en- trance and was about to step outside to fill her lungs with fresh air when she saw her grandfather on the landing with his back to her. His black tails rode too high. The wispy strands of hair circling his crown seemed to have been painted on with a shaky hand. He turned and she saw the confusion in his face—Petey would have parked on the street or in the front parking lot and come through the side entrance like all the other actors. Her grandfather leaned toward her. He seemed to know something was wrong but didn’t seem to understand what it was. A red fire alarm hung just inside the door. As Bridget reached over and rested her fingers on the white handle, her grand- father followed the length of her arm to the wall. She pulled on the handle, the ringing blasted, and her grandfather’s eyes watered as if they had been whipped by the wind. For the first time he looked the way she had always felt. The cast from backstage—Clara, the sugar plum fairies, the mouse soldiers, and all the others—rushed through the door, sweeping Bridget with them. She hur- ried down the steps, around the corner, and across the street where she took off the mouse head and breathed in the cold. By the time she turned around, the side- walk and parking lot had filled with fami- lies from the audience mixed with the cast. Some of the kids in costume stood with their parents, Clara leaned on her boy- friend’s shoulder. Bridget’s grandfather craned his neck to search the crowd. Bridget unzipped the costume, which fell to the ground like a wet towel after a bath. Though she was surrounded by peo- ple, no one noticed her. She looked where they were looking, at the dark point of the steeple, and she waited to see if flames would rise into the sky. n