The Hanging Hill

81

The librarian escorted Meghan and Zack into the rare books room, where their mothers had just been.

“These are the playbills from every show presented at the Hanging Hill Playhouse over the past forty years. Maybe in one, we’ll find a producer’s note explaining the acting company’s name choice.” She gave Meghan the 1970s and Zack the 1980s. “I’ll tackle the sixties myself. You two would find the hairstyles far too amusing.”

For half an hour, Zipper snoozed under the table while the three of them flipped through magazine pages.

Zack worked through the shows done between 1980 and 1985. Put On Your Shoes. County Fair! My Man Stan. Still nothing about why they were called the Pandemonium Players.

He opened the program for a musical called Flipperty Gibbet. He scanned the title page and the cast list, then moved on to the cast biographies—short paragraphs of theatrical credits, tucked around yearbook-sized photographs of the actors in the show.

One of the photographs made Zack freeze.

An actress named Susan Potter.

“Here we go,” chirped the librarian. “Found it. Nine teen sixty-nine. The world premiere of a rock opera called Chaos City. ‘We’ve chosen to call ourselves the Pandemonium Players to celebrate the inspired chaos that guides all theatrical journeys.’”

She was beaming.

Meghan was smiling, glad they’d finally found Zack’s answer.

Zack didn’t say a word.

He just kept staring at the photograph of the actress named Susan Potter in a playbill from the summer of 1985.

“It’s my mother,” he said softly.

“Judy?” asked Meghan.

“No. My real mother.”