A foul play for all

Backstage at Parkview Community Playhouse, Marlys Winslow dressed her West Highland terrier, Watson, in his Toto costume for the production

The Wizard of Oz.

Peter, who owned the theater, clapped. “He’ll steal the show, Aunt Marlys! Now if my ticket-taker would just show up, we’d be in business.”

“No worries, Peter,” Marlys smiled. “I can always fill in.”

He grasped her shoulders. “Thank you…you’re a lifesaver, as usual.”

After counting the drawer, Marlys opened the booth, just as theater critic Brad Berry walked up to the window. “One adult, please.”

She was tempted to give him a child’s ticket, since Brad still held a grudge against Peter for dating the actress he’d had a crush on— the same actress playing Dorothy in the play that evening. Brad’s bad reviews had cost Peter thousands in revenue. “Hello, Brad. Wonderful evening for a play, isn’t it?”

Brad sneered. “We’ll see.” Marlys bit her tongue and reluctantly pressed the button to dispense a ticket, but the mechanism jammed. “Oh, boy,” she said. “Looks like there are no tickets tonight.”

Brad guffawed. “Nice try. I’ll wait until it’s fixed.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said. “But you’ll have to watch the booth while I find maintenance.” Brad had his faults, but Marlys figured he wouldn’t steal the twohundred measly dollars in the till. She returned with the maintenance man, Orval, and thanked Brad, while Orval opened his toolbox and crawled under the counter. With a click, the ticket shot out. “There you go!”

“That was quick! You deserve a raise.”

Orval scowled. “Tell that to Peter. He says he can’t afford to give me one.”

Marlys handed Brad a ticket. “Ten dollars, please.”

Brad fished a roll of bills from his pocket and peeled off a twenty, then changed his mind and replaced it with two fives. “Hopefully, tonight’s performance will be worth the high price.”

At intermission, Marlys closed and counted the drawer. To her dismay, it was short $100. She searched the booth, to no avail. After curtain call, Marlys asked Brad to join them backstage where Peter had gathered the cast. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve asked you all here,” Peter said. “Marlys is missing money from the till.”

“Don’t look at me,” Cora Katz snapped, seemingly out of character in her blue gingham dress and ruby slippers. “I was in my dressing room this whole time.” “Alone?” Marlys asked.

“Why, sure. The star gets a private room.”

“I saw Cora at the booth before the show,” the Scarecrow said accusingly.

Cora threw a sassy hip. “Getting tickets for my friends. But the stupid machine was broken…peter knows.”

Marlys knew that Peter’s indulgence of the star had created a culture of resentment among the cast. “Brad. Did you see anyone enter the booth after I left to get Orval?”

“Nope,” Brad replied. “But I saw Orval put something in his toolbox after he fixed the machine.”

Orval gasped. “What? Just my tools went in there. How dare you?”

“Well, Orval,” Marlys said tentatively. “You did ask for a raise.”

“I admit I’m short this month, but Peter’s been good to me all these years.”

Peter glared at Brad. “Thanks to you, I can’t afford to give out raises.”

“Stop bickering,” Marlys said. “I know who took the money.”