Page 87 of The Voice We Find

My jaw hinges open. But once again, she holds up her hand to stop me from speaking.

“I’ve Googled you, Sophie. I’ve watched your published auditions, and I’ve seen you act and sing on stage. I wasn’t wrong about you. You’d be an incredible asset to any production team no matter what role you took on. God’s given you a tremendous voice, and I think His plans reach beyond the limits of acting on a stage.”

I blink back tears. “I ... wow. Thank you. I don’t even know what to say to all that.”

“You don’t need to say anything. Deaf theaters are rare and often difficult and expensive to facilitate, which is one of the reasons there are only a handful of them in the nation. But their existence is what gives us hope and inspiration to try.”

I sit on a rolling staircase, a bit shell-shocked that this is coming on the very same day as Dana’s email plea for me toplease use this link to schedule your live callback auditionfor the sake of a “dream opportunity” she’s told me very little about.

“Will you tell me how they work?” I ask Portia.

The sparkle in her eyes intensifies. “We’d select a show that canfairly represent deaf actors—who will play deaf characters on stage using American Sign Language—and hearing actors who will use spoken or sung English during the performance. The goal is to create a cohesive, innovative experience that would once again bridge the deaf and hearing communities. Theater, much like books and music and art, has always been about connecting audiences through the magic of storytelling. And we want the voice ofthistheater to be inclusive enough so that the stories shared here can be understood by everyone.”

“That’s a beautiful vision.”

“It is beautiful, yes—” she sighs warily—“but I’d like you to spend some time in prayer before you give me an answer. I’ll be honest with you; this dream of ours won’t be able to pay you what your expertise deserves, not at first. And while it’s fun to dream and discuss show possibilities, there will be a lot of research and planning that will have to come first.” She gestures around to the backstage. “For starters, we’ll need to make this area accessible for a deaf actor. The lighting isn’t conducive to communicate with ASL so we may need to research specialty headlamps so signing hands have the visibility they need to be seen. And then there’s safety concerns that will need to be addressed, as well as finding the right LED screen for the supertitles that will be projected above the stage to interpret for both the hearing and deaf audience members. And then,” she says, taking a huge breath, “we’ll need to find and secure an ASL theater interpreter willing to take on a show.”

I nod, thinking back on a few weeks ago when Portia had mentioned different types of interpreter needs in ASL. I’d been shocked to learn that a live theater interpreter requires no less than seven years of training and experience. Apparently, it’s an extremely rare talent to find. From the short video clips she’s shown us in class, it’s also a physically and mentally taxing profession. Even still, I could imagine how rewarding such an investment would be to the Pimentels’ overall vision.

“I’m guessing you’ll need to raise quite a bit of funds for all that,” I venture.

“We will,” she agrees. “We’ve just started brainstorming.”

“What are your top ideas so far?”

“Perhaps another dinner show or something similar to what we did this summer with the one-act plays. Whatever we do, it’s important we make it as accessible as we can to both the hearing and the deaf in our community. I’d love to run a private audition for a handful of one-act entrants willing to work with partners—an actor and an ASL proficient interpreter. I was thinking I could advertise it to all my students and drama teams so we could get a good variety of comedy, singing, dialogue, and skits.”

“That’s brilliant, Portia.” And just like that, my mind begins to whirl. “What about a winter showcase?” My eye catches on the fake Christmas tree in the corner. “We could plan it for December. That way we could have an inspirational theme behind it all since people tend to be a bit more generous and open to community gatherings around the holidays. Maybe we could even find a way to announce the fundraiser at church?”

“See?” She smiles. “You’re already an asset to this theater.” A worry line creases her brow. “But do you really think we could pull it off that soon? We’d only have six, seven weeks max and you already work two jobs and have a boyfriend who I hear is rather fond of you—”

“I can make it work.” There is no possible way I’d miss it. Portia has fast become an incredible blessing in my life, and more than that, she and her family are a blessing to so many in this community—especially to a teenage girl I’ve grown to love like a sister.

With a promise to pray about everything else she mentioned, I hug her good-bye and begin my chilly trek to where I parked August’s car. Only when I get there, I’m not alone.

“Hi,” Gabby says with a wave. “Would you mind taking me home? I know it’s out of your way, but I was hoping we could talk.”

I don’t even have to consider my answer. “Absolutely. Did you let Portia know you didn’t need a ride tonight?”

When she assures me she did, I unlock the car and engage the seat warmers. Temperatures are only in the low-fifties, but aftersuch a long summer of sunshine and warmth, I’m definitely feeling the change in seasons.

As I pull onto the main street, I mentally prepare for a Tyler-dominated conversation, when she hits me with “Did Portia tell you about her dream for a deaf theater?”

I hesitate, not knowing how to respond at first. Portia didn’t specify confidentiality during our backstage conversation, but—

“It’s not a secret,” Gabby confirms quickly. “I helped her brainstorm some fundraiser ideas a few nights ago, and she mentioned she was going to talk to you.” I see her bite her lip nervously out of the corner of my eye. “I’ve been hoping she’ll choose to do another one-act showcase.”

I breathe a little easier and nod. Perhaps the reason Portia took me backstage was more about her asking me to consider a future at the theater. “It sounds like you’ll get your wish. We’re going to shoot for a winter showcase in December.”

“Really?” Gabby clasps her hands under her chin, and I can tell by her quick response time while in the shadows in her brother’s car that her aids must still be in from class. “I know there are some incredibly talented actors in the community, but ... but I want to audition.”

“Then you should,” I say automatically. I saw the girl on a live stage, and she was absolutely wonderful. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to do a dramatic retelling of something I experienced—using ASL.” She pauses again, causing me to spare another glance in her direction. “And I’d like you to be my voice.”

“You’d like me to ...be your voice?” I nearly swerve out of my lane.

I can see her nod out of the corner of my eye, and I feel the same type of pressure building in my chest as I did that first morning in church listening to the parable of the lost sheep.

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