by Kat Shepherd
Emily’s eyes followed the actors playing the other parts on stage, and turned back to Maggie. “Can you at least tell me why not?”
Maggie bit her lip. “I can’t explain. Just please don’t do it. Please.” Her friends gathered around them, forming a protective circle.
“Maggie, I have to go on. I don’t have an understudy, and this is one of the most important scenes in the play.”
Maggie took a deep breath. “Emily, I’m asking you to trust me, just like I’m trusting you. Just stay here with me, please. It’s for your own safety. I promise you it will be all right.”
Emily’s eyes were clear as she looked down at Maggie. “Okay. I trust you.” She let Clio and Maggie lead her to a folding chair near the rear curtain. Maggie looked up at the catwalk. It was empty. Had Vivien understood?
Emily’s cue came and went, and no one appeared on stage. Maggie’s stomach twisted. The actress playing the maid spoke again, her voice louder. “Lo you, here she comes. This is her very guise…” Vivien entered the scene from the other side of the stage carrying a lit candle. Maggie tensed. What if the other adults weren’t able to see her? Vivien crossed the stage in silence. The other actors shifted their positions, adjusting to the last-minute blocking change, but they continued in stride. Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. It had worked.
Vivien paced the stage, every inch the mad queen. She stood in the spotlight and looked down in horror at her bare hands, the skin young and fresh again in the light’s glow. “Here’s the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.” Maggie held her breath, gripped by the performance. Vivien truly was a star. Maggie felt a pull in her heart when she thought about all that could have been.
The play continued, and Maggie went back to Emily. Emily squeezed Maggie’s shoulder. “What a talent! Where did she come from?” Maggie didn’t answer.
They watched the rest of the play from the wings, and when it came time for the curtain call, Emily went to stand, but Maggie grabbed her hand and pulled her back to her seat. “Not yet,” she said.
When Lady Macbeth took her bow, it was Vivien, not Emily, who swept forward to receive the crowd’s adulation. The crowd roared as the spotlight shone down upon her, and roses—fresh, red roses—landed at her feet. Vivien took a final, sweeping bow, and her red gown and veil collapsed like a paper lantern, hollow and empty. A scattering of dust and dried rose petals sifted across the stage, and even from the wings Maggie could smell a whiff of perfume. The startled cast jumped backward, but the audience roared even louder, thinking the actress’s disappearance was part of the show.
But Maggie knew better.
Vivien had become a star at last.
CHAPTER
23
AS THE CURTAIN began to close, Emily gripped Maggie’s shoulder tightly, her face pale. “What just happened? Who was she?”
Maggie took both of Emily’s hands in her own and looked intently in her eyes. “She was you, okay? That was you on stage. You did the whole show, and you and Kawanna planned a magic trick at curtain call to give the show a little more buzz. Do you understand? You have to say that it was you.”
“And if I don’t?” Emily asked, eyes wide.
Maggie shrugged. “No one will believe you.”
Emily looked at the four girls. “I don’t know what just happened, but I have a feeling I should thank you.” She touched Maggie’s cheek and hurried off to greet the cast as they walked off stage. “What did you think of our little magic trick?” Maggie heard her ask, as the rest of the cast buzzed excitedly around her. Emily really was a terrific actress.
“Should we make sure my auntie knows the little cover story you just concocted?” Clio asked. “And tell her how the nursery got trashed?”
Maggie grimaced. “Oh, yeah. We should probably go talk to her.”
It wasn’t hard to find Kawanna. She and Irene, the director, were surrounded by a crowd of admirers. Kawanna had changed out of the simple black clothes she wore backstage and into a vintage 1920s gold-beaded gown with a matching silk head scarf. Sparkling gems dangled from her ears and at her throat, and she looked like she had walked straight out of an old Hollywood movie. Gone were the anxious lines around her face. Her coppery cheeks were glowing with happiness. When she saw Clio and the others coming, she waved to the crowd, saying, “Now, you know a good magician never reveals her secrets!” and ducked away to join the girls.
Kawanna led them downstairs into a quiet corner where they wouldn’t be overheard. “That was some curtain call,” she said. “I guess that means you were successful?”
“Yeah,” Maggie said. “But things got a little … complicated.” She and the other girls filled Kawanna in on what had happened as they walked her to the nursery. The dollhouse sat in a broken heap in the corner, and shattered mirror glass lay scattered across the floor. Horrible was nowhere to be seen. The little door in the wall hung open on its hinges, a crumbled hole behind it. “What do we do about all of this?”
Kawanna nodded slowly as she looked around the room, thinking. “I’ll figure something out.” Her face curled with distaste as she eyed the hideous murals and sad, claustrophobic ceiling. “I tell you, this has got to be the worst nursery design in history.” The girls all laughed. “For now, let’s collect this broken glass, and we’ll figure out the rest at the shop tomorrow.”
The girls carefully swept up the mirror shards and collected them in a cardboard box. “Where do we keep them?” Maggie asked. “I don’t think we should leave them here.”
“Well, I don’t want them in my house,” Rebecca said.
“Me neither,” Clio added.
Tanya picked up the box. “I’ll take them; I don’t mind. I’d like to study them.” She carried the box out, and the other girls followed. The crowds were starting to thin out, but Maggie could hear people lingering upstairs in the lobby, still raving about the opening night success.
Maggie took one last look at the dark nursery. It had been a close call, but they had done it. They had broken the Night Queen’s power over the Twilight. The curse had been broken. She turned away and into the golden light where her friends were waiting.
* * *
The next afternoon, Maggie stood eagerly behind the Creature Features counter. For once in her life she was the first to arrive, and she wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. Maggie hovered next to a white cardboard box that she had placed next to the empty silver platter that was usually loaded with doughnuts. The CLOSED sign was on the door, but a moment later the front bell chimed as Clio, Tanya, and Rebecca piled into the store.
“Where’s my auntie?” Clio asked, sliding her backpack off and folding her wool peacoat on top of it.
“She went to get the tea,” Maggie said. “She’ll be back in a sec.”
Rebecca pulled off her puffy down jacket and hung it carefully on the coat rack near the door. “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the box.
“It’s a surprise,” Maggie said, trying to hide her smile.
Tanya tugged off her fingerless gloves and unwrapped the multicolored striped scarf from her neck before tossing both on the floor. “I love you, Mags, but I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises.”
The girls heard footsteps coming down the hallway from Kawanna’s little apartment at the back of the shop, but something sounded wrong. They could hear a low wail that grew louder, and Kawanna burst through the doorway, her hand wrapped in a bloody dishrag.
“What happened!?” Clio cried.
“I was cooking, and the knife slipped,” Kawanna moaned. “I think I need to go to the emergency room!” She unwrapped the bloody dish towel, displaying a single brown finger, cleanly cut at the base.
Rebecca screamed. “Quick! Apply pressure!” She grabbed a handful of napkins from the countertop.
“We need ice!” Tanya yelled. She ran toward the doorway to Kawanna’s apartment and bumped into the wall.
Maggie turned green. “I
think I’m going to pass out,” she wailed.
“Hold up.” Kawanna closed the towel again. “I think I’m feeling better. Let me check again.” She put the bloody dishrag on the counter and opened her hand. It was completely unharmed. A familiar twinkle appeared in her eye, and a grin stretched across her face.
“Are you kidding, Auntie? You were pranking us?!” Clio swatted her aunt’s shoulder. “Not. Funny.”
Rebecca shook her head and clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “That has got to be your worst prank yet.”
Maggie collapsed against the counter. “I know, right? I seriously almost barfed!”
Kawanna unfolded the dishrag and held up the rubber finger. “New inventory. Just came in this morning! Pretty cool, huh?”
“No,” Tanya said flatly, and everyone laughed. It was good to see Kawanna back to her old self again.
Kawanna wiped her hands on a spare napkin. “The fund-raiser was a huge success. I feel like a giant weight’s been lifted off my shoulders. The mayor found me last night, and he said the council decided that the theater is worth keeping. They aren’t going to tear it down, so it looks like the Twilight is finally safe.”
“That’s awesome!” Maggie said. She shifted uncomfortably. “But is the theater, you know, safe safe? Like safe from the Night Queen?”
Clio smiled and pulled a small red book out of her backpack: Tales of the Night Queen. “I think so. Listen to this:
In Queene’s fair fist her servant held
To her dark will is he compelled
If servant can the Queene defy
Then foul will fall and hope is high
Her power fades like morning dew
And joyful life begins anew.”
The others’ faces broke out in huge grins, but Maggie was still in the dark. “Um, in English, please?”
“The poem says that whatever the Night Queen creates must obey her, but if any of her minions can break free of her will, then it strikes a crucial blow to her power, bringing hope and new life back to the places she once held,” Kawanna explained.
Maggie blinked. “Oh. Wow. So Vivien and Horrible both helped save the day? I never thought that little stinker was anything but trouble.” She took a deep breath. “I know I’m going to regret saying this, but it looks like you were right about him, Becks.”
Rebecca tossed her braid behind her shoulder. “You should know by now, Mags, I’m pretty much right about everything.” Maggie laughed and rested her head against her friend.
“Rebecca wasn’t the only one who got it right,” Clio said. “Maggie, how did you know that letting Vivien perform would break the curse?”
Maggie thought for a moment. “I know it sounds funny, but that night when we caught Vivien rehearsing, I saw something in her face. Her expression was—I’m not sure how to explain it—but it looked … like there was a piece missing from her, and then she found it again. I just knew she needed that missing piece. She deserved a chance to get it back.”
Kawanna’s warm brown eyes looked at Maggie with deep affection and pride. “I knew you were just the right person for the job, Maggie. I’m so, so proud of you.”
Maggie beamed. She reached for the white box and carefully opened up the lid. “That reminds me, I ordered a little something special today.” The girls gathered round as Maggie unboxed a beautiful cake decorated to look like the Twilight’s facade. CONGRATULATIONS, KAWANNA! was written across the marquee. She looked at Rebecca. “I hope you’re not mad that I didn’t ask you to do it, Becks, but I wanted to surprise everybody.”
“Are you kidding?” Rebecca asked. “There’s no way I could make something this good!” She grinned. “Not yet, at least.” She leaned closer to examine the detail on the icing. “Where did it come from?”
Maggie smiled shyly. “I bought it with my babysitting money.”
Kawanna’s eyes were damp. She put a hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “Thank you, honey. That means a lot.” She looked up as the bell at the front door jangled. “And I sure am glad you brought this cake, because I invited a few extra guests today!” Ethan waved as he walked into the shop, followed by Emily and Juniper, and finally Nobi and Val.
Maggie’s face lit up, and she ran over to give them all hugs. Juniper gave her an extra squeeze. “I missed you, Juni B!” Maggie said. She ushered everyone in, and Rebecca started slicing and serving up cake as Emily and Kawanna disappeared to the back to bring out the rest of the food.
Maggie was pleased to see Nobi and Val were already chatting with Ethan and Clio, while Tanya crouched down next to Juniper, nodding at something the little girl was saying. Maggie looked at her expanding circle of friends and felt a burst of pride. She may not be as brainy or organized as they were, and her drama club project had been a hopeless flop, but she knew how to help people, and she knew how to be a good friend. Juniper ran over and hugged her legs. And I’m a pretty good babysitter, too, Maggie thought.
Emily laid platters of crackers, cheese, and cut-up veggies on the counter, and Kawanna poured juice into snakeskin-patterned paper cups. After a few moments she clapped her hands, and the room grew quiet.
“Maggie’s not the only one with a surprise today,” Kawanna said. She and Emily exchanged a secret smile. “Dr. Gujadhur came up to Emily and me after the show last night, and mentioned that a certain persistent young lady and her friends had petitioned him to start a drama club.” Maggie felt her cheeks grow hot, remembering the stack of signatures sitting uselessly on his desk. “In fact, he said it was a shame that Sanger Middle School can’t host the club, so he asked if Emily might be willing to start a youth drama program at the Twilight.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “Really?! No way!”
Kawanna’s eyes sparkled. “Yes way! And that’s not all. Your principal was so impressed with your efforts that he even offered to speak to the town council about using some of their arts funding budget to pay for it!” Maggie, Nobi, and Val screamed and hugged one another. Then they ran over and hugged Emily and Kawanna.
Kawanna gave Maggie a high five. “You must have made quite the impression on him!”
Maggie laughed and struck a pose. “Well, if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to make an impression!”
* * *
A few months later Maggie and her friends wandered the Twilight’s fully restored lobby. The nursery was still under construction, but the rest of the theater’s renovations were nearly complete. Maggie had been visiting the Twilight a lot in the past few weeks, and it no longer felt like a terrifying place that filled her with dread. In fact, it was starting to feel a little bit like home.
She led her friends across the lobby to where a large sign said CELEBRATING A FORGOTTEN LEGEND. Beside it were a few glass display cases and some framed pictures on the wall. “Kawanna and I have been working on this,” she said. “What do you think?” The exhibit held costumes, keepsakes, clippings, and photos, all in celebration of the lost work of Vivien Vane. Maggie pointed to a gold compact and matching lipstick tube. “This was her signature lipstick color, Phantom Red. The color was created just for her, you know.”
“This is incredible,” Val said, admiring the exhibit. “It’s almost like you really knew her.”
Maggie and her friends shared a secret smile. “Yeah, it kind of feels like I did.”
Before they walked downstairs to check out the new restaurant, Maggie peeped her head into the dark auditorium.
There, in the middle of the stage, stood the ghost light, shining once more. The lamp glowed in the darkness, guiding all lost spirits safely home again.
EPILOGUE
THE BELL JANGLED on the door of the old junk and salvage warehouse just outside of Piper. The proprietor looked up from his fishing magazine and wiped a hand across his bushy white mustache. “Can I help you?”
The couple looked around. “Maybe,” the woman said. Bakelite bangles clattered down her wrists as she pushed her gray-streaked dark curls out of her face. “We’re both artists,
and we make sculptures out of repurposed materials. We’re just looking around, hoping to get some inspiration.”
“Hmm,” the old man said. “Can’t say I know much about that, but I will tell you we just got a shipment of new stuff from Piper. They’re renovating that old movie palace out there. Could be a few things from that haul might interest you.” He led them over to the back of the warehouse near the cargo door. “Haven’t had much chance to go through it, yet, so feel free to poke around.” He stood nearby as the couple picked through the broken velvet seats, the old film projector and canisters, and a few other odds and ends.
Suddenly, the woman let out a cry of delight. “Oh, Eli, come see!” She was bent over a wooden crate of broken mosaic tiles in shades of silver, white, and midnight blue. She held up a piece. “Look at the detail on this! Is that a woman’s face?”
The man came over for a closer look. “Extraordinary!” He reached into the crate and rummaged around, hissing as he cut his finger on a single shard of mirror that was mixed in with the tiles. He picked it up. “This looks like part of an old diamond dust mirror.” He held it to the light, and something flashed in it, golden like a falcon’s eye. “It’s awfully cloudy. It must be really old.”
“This is perfect,” the woman said. She looked up at the proprietor. “How much for the whole crate?” He named a price, and she pulled out her wallet. “We’ll take it.”
The woman picked up the crate. “I think this will be our most memorable creation yet.”
Acknowledgments
The Los Angeles Theatre was the crown jewel of the movie palaces that lined Broadway in downtown LA. Completed in 1931, this architectural masterpiece was open for only a few months before its owner filed for bankruptcy, and the theater closed later that same year. This was the inspiration for the fictional Twilight Theater of this story. You can read more about its fascinating history at http://www.losangelestheatre.com/history. I first explored the theater in much the same way Maggie discovered the Twilight: wandering the floors and exploring its near-empty rooms, none of which had yet been renovated. My imagination went absolutely wild, and I fell in love with every inch of that magical place. I am forever grateful for the Broadway Theater Group and City Councilmember José Huizar’s Bringing Back Broadway initiative for working so hard to restore, protect, and preserve buildings like the Los Angeles Theatre.