“Is she going to be okay?” I asked.
“They’re running tests, but I was just there and she was talking to her parents.”
“She’s one lucky girl.”
“We’re three lucky girls,” Monica said. “If you hadn’t stopped Abby—”
“Let’s not finish that thought,” I told her. “I don’t even want to think about it.” I couldn’t think about what would have happened if Trixie hadn’t gotten me that message. And I couldn’t stop seeing the look in Abby’s eyes as she’d grabbed the coffee, drinking her lethal dose before I could wrestle the mug from her grasp.
I shook my head.
“Nora, you okay?” Monica asked. I’d probably been silent for a bit.
“I will be,” I said.
“You know, everyone would understand if you cancelled the midnight movie. Or at least if you let Callie handle it and went home.”
“I know,” I said. “But I think being around people is better for me. And Fred Astaire might be just what I need.”
Brandon came crashing through the lobby doors just as I was writing out a check to pay the soda machine repair guy. He was flushed with excitement and began shouting immediately.
“Nora! Did you hear? Where’s Callie? Did you guys—”
“Calm down,” I said. “They’ll hear you over the movie.” It was about mid-way through the two-thirty show and we had a surprisingly full house. Or, at least, full for us. By which I meant there were more than eight customers.
“Where’s Callie?” Brandon asked again as the repair guy left.
“With Albert, down in the prop room. What’s—”
He launched himself through the door to the back stairs. I looked around the empty lobby, figured it would okay to leave it unattended for just a few minutes, and ran after him.
I found them all in the prop room, where Callie and Albert had been rummaging around for decorations for the midnight movie.
“Did you find it?” Brandon was demanding of Callie. “Was it you?”
“Brandon, stop yelling,” she said. “What are you talking about?”
“The coin!” he yelled. “They said a group of San Francisco State students found it, and I know you’ve been playing. Was it you?”
“I mean, do I look like I just won ten million dollars?”
He stared at her. “Eleven. It’s eleven million today.”
“I literally only played the game once,” she said. “And I didn’t find anything.”
I perched on the edge of a table still covered in my things from LA. “Where was it?” I asked.
“The doggy diner head,” he said. Which made me think he might be having a stroke, until Albert explained.
“It’s out by the zoo,” he told me. “A large sculpture of a dachshund wearing a chef’s hat that used to be on the roof of a diner. The diner’s gone, but the doggy diner head is San Francisco history.”
“The coin was in its mouth,” Brandon said.
“You mean the cartoon of the coin—”
“The AR of the coin,” he corrected me. “Yeah. But you could only see it if you’d already solved a gazillion puzzles.” He slumped onto the table next to me.
“Well, it looks like you were right,” I said. “There was a coin in San Francisco.”
He didn’t seem to take comfort from this thought.
“It’s over.” He looked a little dazed. “They found one in Cairo this morning. That’s all five.”
I was hugely relieved. I never wanted to hear about the game again. “Finally,” I said, “the madness is over.”
“I mean, until the next game,” Callie said.
Brandon perked up. “Do you think there will be another one? Without S to make it?”
“It made a ton of money,” Callie shrugged. “They’ll figure it out without S.”
I realized she was right. I also realized I’d left the lobby unattended for long enough. Telling Brandon to clock in and start working those extra hours he’d asked for, I left them and took the stairs back up to the lobby.
When I got there it wasn’t empty. Gabriela was there.
“Hi,” I said. “I didn’t know you were—”
The way she was looking at me stopped the words on my lips. She held up her phone, and I saw the messages Trixie had sent on her screen. They’d been automatically sent to her as well as to me.
“Hi, Nora,” she said calmly. “Anything you want to tell me about this?”
Chapter 34
“Is she here now?”
Gabriela looked at me. She knew. She knew Trixie was real.
She looked around the empty lobby. “Trixie? Are you here now?”
“She isn’t,” I said. My voice was so faint I was surprised she could hear me.
“But you’d know if she were,” Gabriela said evenly.
I thrust a thousand images of psych wards out of my mind and nodded.
“And she talks to you?” For the first time Gabriela looked a little freaked out.
I couldn’t speak. I nodded again.
“Okay.” She looked away, and I could see that she was trying to process everything. When she looked back to me there was something else in her expression. Determination.
“Well, then. This changes everything.”
The following Tuesday the lineup changed again, Kristy was released from the hospital, and I received a thick envelope containing all the paperwork necessary to authenticate six glamorous gowns, and prove they were now mine.
“Trixie, do you know what this means?”
“It’s good, right?” She was standing behind me, watching anxiously as I hammered a small nail into the office wall.
“It’s really good. We’re going to have a film festival, and show the movies, and exhibit the gowns, and charge a bloody fortune for it.” I tugged on the nail to make sure it was secure.
Trixie clapped. “Oh, Nora! What fun!”
I went over to the desk and unwrapped a photo that I’d had enlarged and framed at a shop near Union Square. I took it over to Trixie and hung it on the nail.
“Oh,” Trixie said softly.
It was the photo of her mother with Albert’s mother and grandmother, standing outside the Palace.
“Gee, Nora. This is wonderful.” She reached out to hover her fingertips above the image of her mother’s face. “I just can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.
“Who’s being ridiculous?” Callie was standing in the doorway. Trixie gave a startled squeak and went poof.
“What?” I said to Callie. It was always a great comeback.
“Who—Never mind. Have you seen this?” She held up her phone.
“What is it?”
“They just announced who’s got the lead in the new franchise based on those Scandinavian books.”
“Right, with the fjords,” I said, waving my hand. “I know.”
“I don’t think you do.” She passed me her phone.
Priya Sharma to Helm New Franchise
In a gender-bending piece of casting that has us beyond excited, Hampton Productions announced that the damaged ex-CIA reporter at the center of the eagerly anticipated adaptation of the bestselling Scandinavian Quartet will be the kick-ass beauty Priya Sharma.
This should be interesting, as Sharma previously dated Otis Hampton, head of Hampton Productions, before leaving him for her current beau, Ted Bishop, who was reportedly a contender for the part himself. All the action may be behind the scenes on this one!
It was a while before I could stop laughing long enough to explain to Callie what was so funny.
“But Otis totally screwed you,” she protested. “You had a plan.”
“I had a partner with the attention span of a goldfish,” I said. “We’re talking
about Otis Hampton. The odds were never great that he’d have had the patience to stick to a plan for more than a day or two. Why do you think I insisted that Ted send the dress receipts before he got the offer?”
“You knew this would happen?”
“Not this,” I admitted. “This is twisted on too many levels for me. But I knew that if Otis saw a chance to screw Ted sooner, he’d conveniently forget anything we’d ever planned. And wow, does this screw Ted. I can just imagine what this is doing to him.”
Callie grinned. “I mean, it must be killing him that Priya got the part.”
“But he can’t say a damn thing about it without looking like a jerk,” I said.
“Which he is.”
“Which he very much is. But he can’t afford to look like one when he’s standing next to her on red carpets.”
“How long do you think they’ll last?” she asked.
“That’s Otis’s concern, not mine. I just have to figure out what leverage I have now to get Ted to give me that damn divorce and get out of my life forever.”
As if I needed more incentive to get that damn divorce, Hector picked me up after the last show that night.
“Hey, have you heard from Gabriela?” he asked as we went around the theater turning off lights and checking the locks.
“Um, why?” I’d heard from Gabriela about fifteen times a day since telling her about Trixie. She was working like a madwoman on a new ghost-accessible prototype. One that could change Trixie’s whole world.
“She hasn’t been answering her texts,” he said.
“I’m sure she’s just busy,” I told him as we got to the lobby. “She told me she’s coming to Friday’s midnight movie.” Coming with a present for Trixie, I hoped.
I flicked off the last of the lights and opened the panel by the lobby doors to set the alarm.
“Hey,” Hector said, “have I ever told you how good you look in the light from the emergency exit sign?”
“You’re a true romantic,” I told him.
“Yes I am.” He was about to prove it when my phone pinged with a text.
“Maybe that’s Gabriela now,” I said, slipping from his grasp.
The text was not from Gabriela. It was from Otis Hampton.
I guess I should apologize for switching the plan about Ted. I couldn’t help myself. But I want to make it up to you, so I got you a gift. It’s information. You know how you thought I bought Tommy’s share of the theater? I found out who really did. You’re not going to like it. The new owner of one-quarter of the Palace is Ted.
I stared at the phone.
“Nora?” Hector said. “Is everything ok?”
I looked up at him. “No.”
Everything had just gotten a lot more complicated.
Blog Post: The Band Wagon
1953
There are some people who say The Band Wagon is the best musical MGM ever made. There are other people who will duel to the death for Singin’ in the Rain. Personally, I don’t think “best” is something even worth discussing. Just watch and enjoy.
And you will enjoy. Because what you’ll find here is maximum Fred Astaire. Maybe he wasn’t at his physical peak (he was fifty-four when he made it) but he is at his most self-aware. Director Vincent Minelli didn’t try to gloss over Astaire’s age. He leaned into it. There’s a lot about a performer’s insecurities in this one, and a lot about what it takes to earn your place on the stage. There’s also a massive amount of show-biz fun.
To the plot! When we begin, Tony Hunter (Astaire) is edging into has-been territory. He’s been out in Hollywood making musicals, but his top-hat-and-tails type of dancing isn’t in fashion anymore. He knows the times are passing him by, and he’s largely resigned to it.
Astaire’s first number, “By Myself,” sums up where he sees himself. There’s no fuss for him when he arrives at the station. That’s okay. He makes his way by himself, reflecting on his situation. But this is Fred Astaire, people! Just walking along the platform he’s dancing. Picking up a random book, he’s dancing. And all the while musing in a song. “No one knows better than I myself, I’m by myself, alone.”
But, the thing is, he isn’t. Because his two old friends, who happen to write Broadway musicals, are there to meet him after all. Lester and Lilly Marton, played by Oscar Levant and Nanette Fabray, have written their best play ever, and they’ve lined up the hottest director on Broadway, Jeffrey Cordova (Jack Buchanan). Cordova is currently producing, directing, and starring in a ponderous production of Oedipus Rex. Sure, he’s never directed a musical, but what could go wrong? (Lots, as we’ll find out later.)
Tony is in, but he’s also shocked at the carnival atmosphere on his beloved 42nd street. (One wonders what he’d make of it now.) You know what he needs to perk himself up? A shoeshine. I defy anyone to watch the “Shine on My Shoes” number and not feel better. About anything you can name.
As much as I adore Astaire when he’s all glammed up, I do love his solo novelty numbers like this one. Anyone up for the firecracker dance in Holiday Inn? That’s right you are!
Moving right along, Cordova casts the highbrow ballet dancer Gabrielle Gerard (Cyd Charisse) as “the girl” in the show. She’s got “fire, charm, and beauty,” but is she right for the part? Before they meet, Tony confesses that he’s wildly intimidated to dance with such a talented—and tall—classical dancer, and Gabby confesses that she’s wildly intimidated to dance with a Broadway legend. I have to point out that in this scene, Gabrielle’s black lace dress (with scattered sequins and a dark green underskirt) is reason enough to cast her in anything.
The two dancers meet, and it isn’t good. “I used to see all your pictures when I was a little girl,” Gabby tells him. Whoops. They’re both about to walk out on the whole thing when Cordova swoops in and steamrolls them. This show is happening!
Rehearsal montage! Costumes! Dancing! Fred Astaire in a little red neckerchief! The only problem is that Tony and Gabby still aren’t meshing. Tony’s part keeps getting smaller and smaller, until he finally loses his temper and walks out. But when Gabby shows up later at his hotel, wearing a white dress with a micro-pleated skirt that was just made for dancing, you get a whiff of a reconciliation in the wings.
And it happens, in a gorgeous number set to “Dancing in the Dark” (the Schwartz & Dietz one, I hasten to note, not the Bruce Springsteen one) somewhere in Central Park. There are no vocals, because this isn’t about words. The dancers are communicating across their two different styles. And it’s lovely.
Suddenly it’s opening night. New Haven! Here we go! It’s going to be great! It’s going to be…It’s…It’s…not good. Very not good. Disastrously not good. It’s overblown and self-important, much like its director. In the lingo of the time, it lays an egg.
Which causes the cast to wonder…Hey, why didn’t they do that fun, light, entertaining show they originally set out to do? Could they still turn this show into that show? Reworking it on the road? They can! And they will!
What follows are some of the best numbers in all of Hollywood musicals. One after another, as they reimagine the show, moving from town to town. Philadelphia, Boston, Pittsburgh, Baltimore…with new numbers in each of them.
Don’t even get me started on the classic top hat and tails number “I Guess I’ll Have to Change My Plan.” It’s just two guys on a simple set, putting over a simple song with the kind of elegance that may not exist in our sorry old world anymore. It’s perfection, and a triumph of Astaire’s style.
There’s also a triplets novelty number that will sound stupid no matter how I describe it, so I won’t even try. But trust me, it’s stupid good.
Then we’re back in New York. And we’ve got a finale! It’s a lurid pulp mystery set to dance—a murder mystery in jazz. Tony is the hard-boiled gumshoe and Gabby is the innocent blonde in innocent blue as well as th
e femme fatale in red fringe and sparkles. This number is a technicolor dream that perfectly captures what was going on in dance in 1954. It’s heaven. And even more heaven if you’re lucky enough to see it on the big screen.
But will the revised show be a hit? More importantly, will Tony still be alone? Going his way by himself? Or has he built a community? Has he made a home for himself in this new world that didn’t think it needed him anymore? For that answer you’ll have to watch the movie. Watch the movie!
That’s Entertainment!
I love a show about show business. I love the cheesy pep talks on the first day of rehearsals. (“We enter with nothing but a dream, but when we leave, we’ll have a show!”) I love the kids in the chorus hanging out by a piano in their hotel room. And I love the whole notion of watching egos and chaos become art. Which leaves me thinking…hey kids, why don’t we put on a show?
Movies My Friends Should Watch
Sally Lee
THE END
(Book #3)
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