Teddy Bear Teardrops (Random Little Piece Done After I Saw the Musical Wicked)

Teddy Bear Teardrops

Each player is within a harmonious ballad. Each motion they make a dance for which intrigues the audience. Mine is a minor role upon the board- a word here, a word there. Quietly I cooperate with my friends upon the stage of change and life. Yet, when one makes a misstep I do my best to help them regain their footing. However, though my efforts yield remarkable results for which amaze the audience, I slowly fade into the distance, the backdrop swallows me as though I never was. My good deed forgotten, the finale comes; the audience is lifted from their seats in awe as they cheer. It is the finale for which they remember, not my simple gesture for which saved the routine, yet I am pleased with the knowledge that I could help. Backstage is where I attempt to divert the attention from myself and the helping hand for which I had in the performance by congratulating all others equally and fairly- giving none more recognition than another- yet the cast bids me a large ‘thank you’ and many congratulations. I realize that, though my part was small, I stepped up to the challenge of performing beyond the call of duty, but I still wish to be recognized as human- not a godly figure. Silently, while all attention is diverted from myself, I slip out of the room and onto the pavement of the alleyway where our fans wait for their stars. I am not recognized by the fans, so I escape without giving away a single autograph- I prefer it this way. Then, I begin my trek home as none other than myself- no longer a player upon the stage, but a human being for which none give a second glace. With my part as another fully concealed, I smile. I smile, that is, until a little girl makes here way up to me, calling out: ‘Miss! Miss! Please wait!’ I pause and turn, she is seven and carrying a teddy bear with one hand, a pamphlet from the show with another. I wonder where her parents are, and as I begin to ask, she says four words to me: ‘You were the best,’ before turning and running back toward the door where the rest of the cast has begun to exit. I whisper a simple ‘thank you’ and watch as she slowly fades off, into the distance, the best of all the characters upon that night’s stage, her teddy bear waving me good-bye and winking, a smile plastered upon its face and a teardrop of happiness slipping down mine.