“Are you going to congratulate me or not?”
Tabby forced herself to turn and face her sister again. Lois was tapping her perfectly manicured, long red fingernails along the arm of the couch. “Well?”
“C–c–congratulations,” Tabby mumbled.
“C–c–congratulations? Is that all you’ve got to say?”
“Wh–wh—what else is th–there to s–say?”
“How about, “I’m very happy for you, Lois’? Or, ‘Wow, Sis, I sure wish it were me getting married. Especially since I’m six years older and quickly turning into a dried-up, mousy old maid.’ ”
Lois’s cutting words sliced through Tabby’s heart, and a well of emotion rose in her chest, like Mount Saint Helens about to explode. How could anyone be so cruel? So unfeeling? She wished now she had never opened the front door. This visit from her sister wasn’t going any better than the last one had. Blinking back unwanted tears, Tabby tried to think of an appropriate comeback.
“Say something. Has the cat grabbed your tongue again?” Lois prompted.
Tabby shrugged. “I—I th–think you’d better just g–g–go.”
Her sister stood up quickly, knocking one of the sofa pillows to the floor. “Fine then! Be that way, you little wimp! I’m sorry I even bothered to stop by and share my good news.” She swooped her raincoat off the clothes tree, grabbed the umbrella with a snap of her wrist, and stormed out the front door without so much as a backward glance.
Tabby stood staring at the door. “My little sister doesn’t think I’ll ever amount to anything,” she muttered. “Why does she treat me that way?”
Lois is not a Christian, a small voice reminded.
Tabby shuddered. Why was it that whenever she felt sorry for herself, the Lord always came along and gave her a nudge? Tabby’s parents weren’t churchgoers, either. In fact, they had never understood why, even as a child, Tabby had gotten herself up every Sunday morning and walked to the church two blocks from home. Without Jesus’ hand to hold, and the encouragement she got from Donna, she doubted if she would even be working at the day care center.
With a determination she didn’t really feel, Tabby squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’ll show Lois. I’ll show everyone.” But even as the words poured out of her mouth, she wondered if it was an impossible dream. What could she, Timid Tabitha, do that would prove to her family that she really was a woman of worth?
Chapter 2
I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Tabby groaned as she settled herself into the passenger seat of Donna’s little red car.
Donna put the key in the ignition then reached over to give Tabby’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s gonna be fine. Just allow yourself to relax and have a good time. That’s what today is all about, you know.”
A frown twisted Tabby’s lips. “That’s easy enough for you to say. You’re always so laid back about everything.”
“Not always. Remember that blind date my cousin Tom fixed me up with last month? I was a nervous wreck from the beginning to the end of that horrendous evening.”
Tabby laughed. “Come on now. It couldn’t have been all that bad.”
“Oh, yeah?” Donna countered as she pulled out into traffic. “How would you have felt if the most gorgeous guy you’d ever met took you on a bowling date, only because your matchmaking cousin set it all up? I didn’t mention it before, but the conceited creep never said more than three words to me all night.”
Tabby shrugged. “That would never happen to me, because I’m not about to go on any blind dates. Besides, have you thought maybe the poor guy was just shy? It could be that he wasn’t able to conjure up more than three words.”
Donna gave the steering wheel a slap with the palm of her hand. “Humph! Rod Thompson was anything but shy. In fact, he spent most of the evening flirting with Carol, my cousin’s date.”
Tabby squinted her eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. It was probably the worst night of my life.” Donna wiggled her eyebrows. “It was nearly enough to throw me straight into the arms of our preacher’s son.”
“Alex? Has Alex asked you out?”
“Many times, and my answer is always no.”
“Why? Alex Hanson is cute.”
Donna released a low moan. “I know, but he’s a PK, for crying out loud! Nobody in their right mind wants to date a preacher’s kid.”
Tabby’s forehead wrinkled, and she pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Why not? What’s wrong with a preacher’s kid?”
Donna laughed. “Haven’t you heard? The pastor and his entire family live in a fish bowl. Everyone expects them to be perfect.”
“If Alex is perfect, then what’s the big problem?”
“I said, he’s supposed to be perfect. Most of the PKs I’ve ever known are far from perfect.”
Tabby chuckled. “I have a feeling you really like Alex.”
“I do not!”
“Do so!”
“Do not!”
Their childish banter went on until Tabby finally called a truce by changing the subject. “Which workshop are you going to register for at the seminar?” she asked.
Donna smiled. “Chalk art drawing. I’ve always been interested in art, and if I can manage to use my meager talent in that form of Christian ministry, then I’m ready, able, and more than willing.”
Tabby glanced down at the scruffy little puppet lying in her lap. “I sure hope I won’t have to talk to anyone. Unless I’m behind a puppet box, that is.” She slipped Roscoe onto her hand. “If I’m well hidden and can talk through this little guy, I might actually learn something today.”
“You’re just too self-conscious for your own good. You’ve got such potential, and I hate to see you waste it.”
“Potential? You must have me mixed up with someone else.”
Donna clicked her tongue. “Would you please stop? You’ll never build your confidence or get over being shy if you keep putting yourself down all the time.”
“What am I supposed to do? Brag about how cute, smart, and talented I am?” Tabby grimaced. “Take a good look at me, Donna. I’m the plainest Jane around town, and as I’ve reminded you before, I can barely say two words to anyone but you or the day care kids without stuttering and making a complete fool of myself.”
“You want people to accept you, but you don’t think you can ever measure up. Am I right?”
Tabby nodded.
“That will all change,” Donna insisted. “Just as soon as you realize your full potential. Repeat after me—I can do it. I can do it. I can do it!”
Tabby held Roscoe up and squeaked, “I can do it, but that’s just because I’m a dumb little dog.”
The foyer of Alliance Community Church was crammed with people. Tabby gulped down a wave of nausea and steadied herself against the sign-up table for the puppet workshop. She was sure that coming here had been a terrible mistake. If not for the fact that Donna was already in line at the chalk art registration table, she might have turned around and bolted for the door.
“Sorry, but this class is filled up,” said a soft-spoken older woman behind the puppet registration table.
“It—it—is?” Tabby stammered.
“I’m afraid so. You might try the ventriloquist workshop.” The woman motioned toward a table across the room. “If you like puppetry, I’m sure you’d love to try talking for two.”
Tabby slipped quietly away from the table, holding Roscoe so tightly her hand ached. There was no more room in the puppet workshop. Now she had a viable excuse to get out of this crowded place. She turned toward the front door and started to run. Pushing her way past several people, she came to a halt when she ran straight into a man.
“Whoa!” his deep voice exclaimed. “What’s your hurry?”
Tabby stared up at him in stunned silence. She was rewarded with a wide smile.
Her plan had been to make a hasty exit, but this young man with soft auburn hair a
nd seeking green eyes had blocked her path.
He nodded toward the puppet she was clutching. “Are you signed up for my class?”
Her gaze was drawn to the stark white piece of paper he held in his hand. “I—uh—th–that is—”
“I hope you’re not self-conscious about using a hand puppet instead of a dummy. Many ventriloquists use puppets quite effectively.”
Tabby gulped and felt the strength drain from her shaky legs. The guy thought she wanted to learn ventriloquism, and apparently he was the teacher for that workshop. The idea of talking for two and learning to throw her voice did have a certain measure of appeal, but could she? Would she have the nerve to sit in a class with people she didn’t even know? Could she talk for her puppet without a puppet box to hide behind? Maybe I could just sit quietly and observe. Maybe I’d never have to say a word.
As she studied the handout sheet she’d just been given, Tabby wondered what on earth had possessed her to take a ventriloquist class, of all things! She felt about as dumb as a box of rocks, but as she pondered the matter, an idea burst into her head. Maybe she could do some short ventriloquist skits for the day care kids. If they liked Roscoe popping up from behind a desk, how much more might they enjoy seeing him out in plain view? If she could speak without moving her lips, the kids would think Roscoe really could talk.
From her seat at the back of the classroom, Tabby let her gaze travel toward the front. The young man with short-cropped auburn hair had just introduced himself as Seth Beyers, owner and operator of Beyers’ Ventriloquist Studio. He was holding a full-sized, professional ventriloquist figure with one hand.
“I’d like to give you a little rundown on the background of ventriloquism before we begin,” Seth said. “Some history books try to date ventriloquism back to biblical times, citing the story of Saul’s visit to the witch of Endor as a basis for their claim.” He frowned. “I disagree with this theory, though. As a believer in Christ, I take the scriptural account literally for what it says. In fact, I don’t think the Bible makes any reference to ventriloquism at all.
“Ventriloquism is nothing more than an illusion. A ventriloquist talks and creates the impression that a voice is coming from somewhere other than its true source. People are often fooled into believing the ventriloquist is throwing his voice. Ventriloquism has been around a long time. Even the ancient Greeks did it. Romans thought ventriloquists spoke from their stomachs. In fact, the word ventriloquism comes from two Latin roots—venter—meaning belly, and loqui—the past participle of the verb locuts, which means to speak.”
Seth smiled. “So, the word ventriloquism is actually a misnomer, for there is really no such thing as stomach talking. A ventriloquist’s voice comes from only one place—his own throat. Everything the ventriloquist does and says makes the onlooker believe his voice comes from someplace else.”
Positioning his foot on the seat of an empty folding chair, Seth placed the dummy on top of his knee. “Most of you will probably start by using an inexpensive plastic figure, or even a hand puppet.” Gesturing toward the dummy, Seth added, “Later on, as you become more comfortable doing ventriloquism, you might want to purchase a professional figure like my woodenheaded friend, Rudy.”
Suddenly it was as though the dummy had jumped to life. “Hi, folks! My name’s Rudy Right, and I’m always right!”
A few snickers filtered through the room, and Seth reprimanded his little friend. “No way, Rudy. No one but God is always right.”
“Is that so? Well, in the dummy world, I’m always right!” Rudy shot back.
Tabby leaned forward, watching intently. Seth’s lips didn’t move at all, and the sound supposedly coming from Rudy Right was nothing like the instructor’s deep voice. If common sense hadn’t taken over, she might have actually believed the dummy could talk. A child would surely believe it. Kids probably relate well to what the dummy says, too.
Yanking her wayward thoughts back to the happenings at the front of the room, Tabby giggled behind her hand when Rudy Right accused his owner of being a bigger dummy than he was.
“Yep,” spouted Rudy, “you’d have to be really dumb to wanna be around dummies all the time.” With the wink of one doeskin eye, the woodenhead added, “Maybe I should start pullin’ your strings and see how you like it!”
When the laughter died down, Seth made Rudy say good-bye then promptly put him back in the suitcase from which he’d first appeared. With a muffled voice from inside the case, Rudy hollered, “Hey, who turned out the lights?”
In the moment of enjoyment, Tabby laughed out loud, temporarily forgetting her uncomfortable shyness. Everyone clapped, and the expert ventriloquist took a bow.
“I see a few of you have brought along a puppet or dummy this morning,” Seth said. “So, who would like to be the first to come up and try saying the easy alphabet with the use of your ventriloquist partner?”
When no one volunteered, Seth pointed right at Tabby. “How about you, there in the back row?”
Her heart fluttered like a bird’s wings. She bit her bottom lip then ducked her head, wanting to speak but afraid to do so.
Seth took a few steps toward her. “I’m referring to the young woman with the cute little dog puppet.”
If there had only been a hole in the floor, Tabby would have crawled straight into it. She felt trapped, like a caged animal at the Point Defiance Zoo. She wanted to tell Seth Beyers that she wasn’t ready to try the easy alphabet yet. However, she knew what would happen if she even tried to speak. Everything would come out in a jumble of incoherent, stuttering words, and she’d be completely mortified. Slinking down in her chair, face red as a vine-ripened tomato, she merely shook her head.
“I guess the little lady’s not quite up to the task yet,” Seth responded with a chuckle. “Is there someone else brave enough to let us critique you?”
One hand from the front row shot up. Seth nodded. “Okay, you’re on!”
An attractive young woman with long red hair took her place next to Seth. She was holding a small boy dummy and wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “Hi, my name’s Cheryl Stone, and this is my friend, Oscar.”
“Have you done any ventriloquism before?” Seth questioned.
Cheryl snickered. “Just in front of my bedroom mirror. I’ve read a book about throwing your voice, but I haven’t mastered all the techniques yet.”
“Then you have a bit of an advantage.” Seth flashed her a reassuring smile.
Tabby felt a surge of envy course through her veins. Here were two good-looking redheads, standing in front of an audience with their dummies, and neither one looked the least bit nervous. Why in the world did she have to be so paralyzed with fear? What kept her locked in the confines of “Timid Tabitha”?
“Okay, let’s begin with that easy alphabet,” Seth said, breaking into Tabby’s troubling thoughts. “All the letters printed on the blackboard can be said without moving your lips. I’ll point to each one, and Cheryl will have her dummy repeat after me.”
Cheryl nodded. “We’re ready when you are.”
Seth moved toward the portable blackboard positioned at Cheryl’s left. “Don’t forget to keep your mouth relaxed and slightly open, biting your top teeth lightly down on the bottom teeth.” Using a pointer-stick, Seth began to call out the letters of the easy alphabet.
Cheryl made Oscar repeat each one. “A C D E G H I J K L N O Q R S T U X Y Z.”
She’d done it almost perfectly, and Seth smiled in response. “Sometimes the letter Y can be a problem, but it’s easy enough if you just say ooh-eye.”
“What about the other letters in the alphabet?” an older man in the audience asked. “What are we supposed to do when we say a word that has B, F, M, P, V, or W in it?”
“That’s a good question,” Seth replied. “Those all get sound substitutions, and we’ll be dealing with that problem shortly.”
Oh, no, Tabby groaned inwardly. This class is going to be anything but easy.
> “Let’s have Cheryl and her little friend read some sentences for us,” Seth continued. Below the easy alphabet letters he wrote a few lines. “Okay, have a go at it.”
“Yes, I can do it.” Cheryl opened and closed her dummy’s mouth in perfect lip sync. “She had a red silk hat, and that is no joke!”
Everyone laughed, and Cheryl took a bow.
Seth erased the words then wrote a few more sentences. “Now try these.”
“I ran across the yard, heading to the zoo. I need to get a key and unlock the car.”
Tabby wrestled with her feelings of jealousy as Cheryl stood there looking so confident and saying everything with no lip movement at all. Tabby sucked in her bottom lip and tried to concentrate on learning the easy alphabet. After all, it wasn’t Cheryl’s fault she was talented and Tabby wasn’t.
“That was great, Cheryl!” Seth gave her a pat on the back.
She smiled in response. “Thanks. It was fun.”
The next few hours flew by, with only one fifteen-minute break for snacks and use of the restrooms. Tabby’s plan had been to sneak out during this time and wait for Donna in the car. The whole concept of ventriloquism had her fascinated, though, and even if she wasn’t going to actively participate, she knew she simply couldn’t leave now.
By the time the class finally wound down, everyone had been given a video tape, an audiocassette, and several handouts. Everything from the easy alphabet to proper breathing and sound substitutions had been covered. Now all Tabby had to do was go home and practice. Only then would she know if she could ever learn to talk for two.
Chapter 3
You’re awfully quiet,” Donna said, as they began their drive home from the seminar. “Didn’t you enjoy the puppet workshop?”
“I never went,” Tabby replied.
“Never went?”
“Nope. The class was filled up.”
“If you didn’t go to the workshop, then where have you been all morning, and why are you holding a bunch of handouts and tapes?”
Time to Laugh Romance Collection Page 2