The Slipper by Jennifer Wilde Page A

antics—Jim was a favorite—but Julie could see that Compton was nearing the end of his patience.
    Compton ran his fingers through his luxuriant silver-gray hair. With his craggy, battered features and moody blue eyes, he was an extremely attractive man, and most of the girls had crushes on him. Julie found him rather fatherly, sometimes stern, sometimes warm and teasing, almost always harried, exuding strong authority no matter what his mood. He was a wonderful man, and she still found it hard to believe he had taken such an interest in her. It didn’t seem possible he could think she had a natural talent for acting. Maybe Doug was right. Maybe Compton just felt sorry for her.
    â€œAll right,” he said wearily, “we’ll try it one more time. I want you to get that dollar, Jim. Understand?”
    â€œI’ve been tryin’, man.”
    â€œYou don’t want to give it to him, Bud. You’re not going to give it to him.”
    â€œBut I’m gonna get it, right?” Jim mumbled.
    Compton ignored him. He glanced at Carol and started to say something, then changed his mind. Carol looked disappointed, and Julie could see that she longed to question him. Compton rarely worked as hard with Carol as he did with the other students, rarely criticized her and almost never gave her directions. Perhaps it was because she didn’t need them. Carol had remarkable stage presence, even if … even if she wasn’t always totally convincing when she did a part.
    â€œLet’s go,” Compton said. “Let’s do it right this time.”
    â€œWhy is it so important I get this dollar?” Jim asked. “I mean, am I hungry? Do I need to buy food? Am I a broken-down panhandler, begging for bread? Am I a hood, intimidating an uptight, middle-class couple? It would help a lot, man, if I knew what my motivations were.”
    â€œI don’t care what your motivations are. Just get that goddamn dollar and get off the stage!”
    Compton moved back, patience clearly wearing thin. Carol and Bud took their positions and began to talk. Bud asked her if she would like to go to the country club dance. Carol hesitated and looked pleased and then looked apprehensive and said she wasn’t sure his parents would approve, she didn’t belong to their set. Bud said that didn’t matter at all. Neither of them noticed Jim approach. He crept nearer, looked all around and then grinned a sinister grin. He lunged forward and slung an arm around Bud’s throat, rearing back, strangling him. Carol screamed and slammed a hand over her heart. Bud began to gurgle, his face turning bright pink. “Gimme your wallet!” Jim growled. Bud gurgled and hastily reached into his back pocket and pulled out his billfold. Jim took it and shoved Bud roughly aside. He peeled a dollar out of the billfold, thrust it into his pocket, threw the billfold down and sauntered away. Bud coughed and made croaking noises, his face still pink. Carol wrung her hands. The class applauded wildly.
    â€œHow was that, man?” Jim inquired. “Got the dollar, didn’t I?”
    â€œYou got it, Jim,” Compton said, shaking his head.
    He glanced at the large clock hanging over the classroom door and, looking relieved, dismissed the class. Students got up from their seats and began to slip on coats and sweaters, ardently discussing the scene. Jim Burke swaggered, pleased with himself. He patted Bud on the shoulder and returned his dollar. Julie stood up and put on her old brown cloth coat. She was tying a brown-and-blue scarf over her head when Carol joined her. They always sat together in the back of the room. Julie smiled at her and told her she’d been very good. Carol smiled, too, but it was a hollow smile. Julie could tell she was still disappointed that Compton hadn’t commented on her performance.
    â€œHey, you were somethin’ else,” Jim Burke said, joining