Juliana

by Vanda

  “No,” Max said, then addressed the shirtless boy, “A little lower, honey.” The shirtless boy’s mouth drifted down to Max’s stomach. “Virginia’d get all weepy eyed, and I couldn’t take that right now.”

  “Here, Al.” Tommie handed me my Manhattan.

  “You should call her,” I said. “She’d want to know you’re here.”

  “I bought this beautiful boy to comfort me,” Max said. “Isn’t he beautiful?

  “Bought?”

  “I think I shocked her. Did I shock her, Tommie? Well? Isn’t he beautiful?”

  “Very nice. Why did you want me here?”

  “Nice? You must be a bull dagger if you can’t see he’s an Adonis. Look at this chest, smooth as a baby’s behind and speaking of behinds, stand up, honey. Show her.”

  The boy pointed his rear in my direction while Max smoothed down the pants over the area. “See? Tight as an old maid’s twat. Pull down your pants, sweetie. Show her the best part.” The boy turned around, his hand on his zipper, ready to do it.

  “Don’t make him do that.” I stood up.

  “Ooh, is that outrage I see? Tsk, tsk.”

  Tommie refilled Max’s glass. “Shut up, Max, and stop being a bore.”

  “I really don’t mind,” the boy said. “I strip at men’s parties all the time. It’s nothing to me.”

  “See?” Max said. “I’m paying him. Very well, I might add. Aren’t I, sugar lips?” They kissed again. “Oh, wait. It may be Virginia’s money. Does that matter? No. Pull down your pants. ”

  “Stop it, Max,” Tommie said. “We can play games when we don’t have company.”

  “Look, I’m gonna go.” I headed for the door. “I don’t know why you called me here, but—”

  Tommie ran after me. “Don’t go, Al. He’s scared,” he whispered. “That’s why he’s acting like this. He thinks since he’s a homosexual he has to prove how brave he is, that he’s not a sissy like everybody thinks about us, and he’s afraid he can’t do it. You’re here ’cause you’re important to him.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. He’s always saying you’re the smartest, scrappiest girl he knows, that you keep him sharp.”

  “Sure. Tommie, isn’t he your—I’m not sure what you call it, but don’t you mind that he’s with that other man?”

  “Uh, I don’t wanna shock ya, Al.”

  “Shock me, dang it. What’s going on?”

  “Well, Max and I don’t only go with each other. We kinda play around.”

  “So you don’t mind that guy—?

  “Hey, you two,” Max called, his words slurring into each other. “What’re ya plotting over there?”

  Shirl punched through the screen door, marched past Tommie and me and charged over to the couch. She wore her usual dark suit and tie.

  “You. Up,” she ordered the shirtless boy. She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. She peeled off a few like she was a gangster in an Edward G. Robinson movie. “Here. Thanks for your trouble, but you’re about the last thing Max needs right now. You can go.”

  “Hey.” Max tried to stand up but fell back down. “I want him to stay. Later Tommie, him, and me are going to—”

  Tommie jumped up, clapping his hands. “You’re including me with you and him?”

  “Sure, kid.”

  “You’ve been paid,” Shirl said to the boy. “Good-bye.”

  “Aw, Shirl, come on,” Tommie whined.

  The boy put his shirt on.

  “Please, Shirl,” Tommie pleaded. “Have a heart.”

  “Go,” Shirl commanded, and the boy left.

  “You’re a cruel woman, Shirl,” Tommie said.

  “I know.” She pulled Max up by one of his arms. “Now, you’re going to take a shower, and then you’re going to bed to sleep this off because if you’ve got to be a soldier, then you’re going to be a good one. You’re representing all of us, so stop feeling sorry for yourself and get ready for the job.” She yelled over to me. “Al, give Virginia a call and tell her to get over here. Go outside and use the pay phone in the diner on the corner because what I’m going to do in here isn’t something a sweet young thing like yourself should see. ”

  “Sure, Shirl.” Just as I was about to charge out the door, Shirl said, “Tommie, help me get his clothes off.”

  By the time Max left on Sunday, Shirl had him looking like a proper soldier with his proper fiancée on his arm. Shirl knew Virginia would be upset and might have trouble getting herself home, so she sent me to the station with them.

  Shirl and Tommie said their good-byes at the apartment ’cause Shirl said they were both too obvious and that would make things dangerous for Max.

  Before the train came, Max dropped his rucksack and left Virginia’s side. He walked over to the newspaper kiosk where I was standing, his hat tucked under his arm. How handsome he looked in his uniform, his dark hair slicked back, no longer drooping into his eyes, his mustache neatly trimmed.

  “So, Al, I …” he began. “You know, I don’t usually act that way. Undignified. You know that.”

  “I forgive you, Max.”

  “Who asked you to do that?”

  “I just wanted to.”

  The train roared into the station.

  “Max! Max!” Virginia called.

  “I’m coming.” He ran to Virginia, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and jumped on the train.

  As the train pulled away, Virginia gripped my arm. “Al, he’s gone. He’s gone.”

  I put my hand on top of hers. “He’ll be back.” I hoped I was right.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  June, 1943

  June breezed in and I felt its pulse as I entered the Canteen. It was early, so the tables were empty, and only a few volunteers milled about. I took off my gloves and reached into my purse for the card I’d found on top of my desk at Gimbels. One of the girls said Henry ran in and put it there while I was at lunch.

  Tommie dashed up to me, holding a clipboard. “Okay now, don’t get upset, but one of the acts canceled.”

  “What? I’ve gotta get on the phone.” I hurried toward my office.

  “Wait. I found a replacement.”

  “This replacement is good?”

  “Very.”

  “Okay. I have too much to do to not trust your judgment. Thanks for helping me out.”

  I continued toward my office, passing the “Let’s All Fight. Buy War Bonds” poster, while I pulled the card from its envelope. On the front there was a picture of cupid dancing through the forest. Henry had written. “ME” on its diaper. I laughed.

  “There’s just one thing,” Tommie said, walking beside me. “I tried to call you at Gimbels to see if you minded, but they said you weren’t there so I just—”

  I looked up from the card before opening it. “Juliana.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you. She’s the act I got.”

  There she was. Standing on the stage, leaning against the upright piano talking to the piano player. She wore a white blouse with shoulder pads and her hair held in place by a snood. The War Production Board mandated less material be used in making clothes, so her red, just-below-the-knee skirt length was plain with no pleats.

  “Miss Royle said she could rehearse here,” Tommie continued. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean …” he whispered, “what happened between you two was a whole year and a half ago. When I couldn’t reach you, I felt desperate. I happened to run into her at Childs during lunch and …. Are you okay, Al? You look kinda funny.”

  “Fine.” I hid behind a post.

  Tommie followed me. “Anyway,” he said, “I changed the order of some of the other acts so that we could focus on Juliana since she’s played some good clubs and these others are beginners.” He pushed his clipboard at me. “Is this new lineup okay?”

  Juliana counted, “One, two, three” as she snapped her fingers. Her piano player began the introduction. Juliana winked
at him and began the opening of “I’ll Be Seeing You.”

  My breath got stuck in my lungs. “What am I gonna do?”

  “About what?” Tommie asked. “You don’t like this order?”

  I carefully peered from behind the post while Juliana sang.

  “Al, do you want me to change something on this list here?”

  “I have to get out of here. Walk next to me.” I held onto Tommie’s pants leg. “Walk faster.”

  “That’s hard to do with you hanging onto my pants.”

  “Faster.”

  Tommie walked beside me blocking me from Juliana’s view as I hid my face in my hat. “And people say I act funny.”

  When we got into the stairwell outside, I leaned against the wall. “Don’t tell her I was here. Don’t tell her I even volunteer here.”

  As I ran up the steps, Tommie called after me, “I guess asking her to do this wasn’t a good idea, huh?”

  From the subway, I went straight to my apartment. By Jupiter had closed ’cause Ray Bolger went to Europe to entertain the troops. Aggie got hired for the Schubert’s road show of Desert Song so I had the place to myself. I dropped onto the couch and looked at my hand. I was still gripping Henry’s card. I looked at the Cupid on the front and then slipped my thumb between the two edges to open it. The card said, “I love you. Marry me.”

  I stood and propped the card up on top of the Victrola. I went to the phone. “Miss Cowl? Alice. I’m a little under the weather today. I hope it isn’t too much trouble if I …. Thank you.”

  I hung up and stared at Henry’s card. I slowly unbuttoned my dress letting it fall to the floor. In the back of my brain somewhere I heard Juliana singing “My Romance.”

  “No,” I whispered to the singing. I left my dress where it fell and went into the bedroom. I pulled my slip over my head and dropped it onto the floor. I flipped off my shoes and pulled down my girdle. I grabbed a hunk of bedspread, blanket, and top sheet and yanked them down. I got into bed and pulled the bedspread, blanket, and sheet over my head.

  I awoke startled by the phone ringing, but I think it’d been ringing for hours. I threw the blanket off me. It was hot. I looked over at the window. Dark out there. I couldn’t see a thing even though I hadn’t closed the blackout curtains yet.

  I went into the other room and picked up the phone without turning on the light. “Henry, I’m fine. Sleeping. Maybe the grippe. You’d do that for me? What time is it? No, sleep. You have to work tomorrow. Well, if you really want to.”

  Henry was coming over and I was glad of it. He was worried about me. That was nice of him. I was about to turn on the lamp when I remembered—the blackout curtains! I ran into the bedroom, threw on my robe, and drew the curtains. I was about to close the curtains in the parlor when I stopped, seeing the blue star Aggie had hung in the window for Dickie. I said a quick prayer that he was safe and drew the curtains shut. Our blackout curtains had colorful stars all over them. Aggie wasn’t content with normal blackout curtains. She had to have the special ones from Bloomingdales.

  Before taking my shower, I opened the bottom drawer of my dresser and found a small box. Next to it laid the unsigned program from the first time I met Juliana.

  “Did you want me to sign that?” she had asked.

  “Oh, yes, would you?”

  “No,” she said. “I’ll sign it when we know each other better, when it will really mean something.” Flip flop in my stomach. I took out the box lying next to it. I’d had the diaphragm for a few months now. Aggie told me about getting one—how I had to pretend I was married with a fake wedding ring from Woolworths so the doctor didn’t give me a boring lecture on morality. Tonight, seemed the perfect night to use it. Right after I said yes to Henry’s marriage proposal.

  “So how was it?” Aggie asked over the phone.

  “You’re calling me all the way from Chicago to ask me that? This is costing you a fortune. Shouldn’t we talk about something more important?”

  “This is important. How was it?”

  “I also wrote you about the Canteen giving us a party and about Henry giving me a nice ring, and this is what you call about?”

  “We only have three minutes so tell me—was it good?”

  “As if I have some basis of comparison. ”

  “I mean …. Look, we’re friends, you can tell me. Did his foot get in the way?”

  “We were supposed to use that?”

  “Stop being funny. Did his being crippled make it more difficult?”

  “How should I know? Can we talk about something else?”

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me. Sometimes the first time isn’t so good. Did it hurt a lot?”

  “Aggie!”

  “It hurt me a lot. I screamed so loud I almost traumatized Dickie for life.”

  “Oops, look at the time. Henry’s picking me up for a late lunch before we go to the Canteen tonight.”

  “Where’s he taking you?”

  “Lindy’s.”

  “Ooh, Lindy’s. Have a piece of cheesecake for me.”

  I hung up the phone and walked over to the window. Henry had been kind and as gentle as he could be. Under the circumstances. Maybe next time …. Oh, what difference does it make? That part of my life isn’t important. Any girl would die to spend her life with Henry. And I won’t ever be called a spinster. What a relief.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I wiped down one of the counters while an unknown colored girl sang “Heat Wave” with an unknown colored band. I’d been trying for weeks to get Ethel Waters with no luck.

  I looked up just as Juliana walked onto the stage. What’s she doing here again? I didn’t reschedule her. Where’s Tommie? I scanned the room. If he thinks he can suddenly be in charge …!

  She wore a black bow tie with a tuxedo shirt, black tails, and pants. Her hair was pulled back and she wore a top hat on her head. The men hooted and whistled as she moved to the center of the stage. The pants showed off her curves.

  “Hey,” Henry called. “Let’s watch this.”

  “Uh, no, I have to get this—”

  “Come on.” He took the rag out of my hand. “This’ll be good. I love impersonator acts.”

  He pushed me through the rows of tables. “But Miss Cowl—”

  “Won’t mind.”

  We sat down in a front row table. Juliana turned toward me, her eyes taking me in, as she sauntered over to the piano player. He started again with a new introduction.

  As she strolled away from him, she began singing, “My Funny Valentine.” She looked right at me. I looked down at my hands.

  “Hey,” Henry whispered, “she’s looking at you.”

  “No, I don’t think ….”

  She moved toward the edge of the stage, still looking at me as she sang.

  “See? She is. It’s a game. Smile back at her. ”

  I didn’t dare look up.

  She stepped off the stage and stood right at our table. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Look at her, Alice,” Henry whispered. “She’s trying to get your attention.”

  She sat down at our table. The audience howled with laughter as she flirted with me pretending she was a man and singing. With everyone watching, I had to look up and pretend I thought it was funny, too.

  She leaned toward me as she sang. Oh, no, she’s going to kiss me. In front of everybody. In front of Henry. She’s going to ruin my life. She stood and stepped back onto the stage to sing the last of the song.

  When she bowed, the audience clapped, and all I could think of was getting out of there. Henry followed me. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure, I need to clean up. Where did that rag get to?”

  “Here.” Henry handed it to me. “You’ve never seen the film Morocco, have you?”

  “No. What is it?” I scrubbed the spotless counter harder.

  “I keep forgetting how young you are. It came out in the thirties before the Hays Code and they started censoring everything. I w
as only a kid myself, fifteen or sixteen. Marlene Dietrich wore a man’s tuxedo, and she kissed a woman right on the mouth. I think Juliana was doing an imitation of that. All in fun.”

  “Yeah. Fun.”

  Henry went off to clean the bathrooms. I wiped the tables.

  “You were so funny,” Tommie said, leaning on his broom. “The way your face looked all embarrassed like that, a person might think you still had a crush on her.”

  “How dare you? I’m engaged. What made you think you had any right to book her again on your own.”

  “Pipe down. Miss Royle booked her. Miss Royle’d never seen her before, but when she saw her last week she liked her and asked her to come back. Geez.” He went off in a huff to sweep on the other side of the room. I went back to wiping tables.

  “Alice, would you be so kind as to direct the new musical fellows to the room for accommodating their instruments?” Miss Cowl asked. “Numerous letters and wires desire my cautious deliberation.”

  “Sure.”

  I walked over to the band where they were packing up. “Look, guys, if you go through that door there’s plenty of room for your stuff.”

  A familiar voice from behind said, “So commanding.” I turned, knowing it was Juliana. “I like that,” she went on. “A woman who takes charge.” She wore a wraparound, lime-green dress with three quarter sleeves, all WPB regulations on new fashions. I just kept wearing my old dresses.

  “I’m engaged,” I said.

  “And I’m married. So?”

  “I can’t. ”

  “You can’t what? Be friends?”

  “I can’t be friends with you .”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause when I’m around you … I … don’t even know you.”

  “You know me. Oh, but you mean details. Like my favorite color and how many pets I had as a child. Why don’t we go out to lunch tomorrow? We can fill in some of those details.”

  “Hello,” Henry said, coming toward Juliana. “I thoroughly enjoyed your act tonight.”

  She extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. uh—”