by Sandra Kring
I led the way, but when we got to the nosebleed seats, and I was sure Mrs. Bloom wouldn’t hear me, I turned around. I looked at their white jackets. “You guys aren’t doctors, are you?”
“No,” one of them said. “Caterers.”
“Good,” I said. “Or Charlie would have had a cow.”
While the guys folded table legs and argued about how many they could carry down at once, I went to the projector room windows to look out, thinking it would be easier to spot Brenda from up high. And I was right. She was on the stage talking to Jay, who was all gussied up like he was an usher or something.
I zipped out of there fast, knowing that if I got behind the guys as they lugged tables down, I’d have to find her all over again.
When I got to the stage, she was trying to make Jay’s bow tie stay in place because it seemed to want to spin like a pinwheel.
I don’t know what kind of mood Brenda was in, but it was a strange one. One I’d never seen before, and couldn’t have described to Charlie if I’d tried. “Hi, Brenda,” I said, as I stepped onto the stage, which was gleaming like it had been saved pristine for tonight. “I came a little early to give you a hand. I know I’m off the clock—I’m just being a nice Little Sister. I already helped your ma some.”
“Then you can help by holding this,” she said, handing me her purse, then twisting Jay’s bow tie one last time. When she finished, she looked out on the theater, above the heads of the people hurrying like ants. “At this point, Teaspoon, there’s nothing left to be done.” She started walking away, moving floaty like that white dandelion fluff when you blow it.
I followed her. “There must be something we should be doing, by the looks of things,” I said. “It’s a real mess here.”
Brenda kept walking. “Hey, Brenda,” I said, looking up at the new curtain that was rolled far above my head. “Did Johnny bring the moons before he left?” Just saying his name made me miss him all over again.
Brenda turned. “Mel dropped them off,” she said.
“Is he going to run the pulley to change them between acts, then?” I asked.
“Maybe. Or someone else will.”
Suddenly Brenda stopped, looking down at herself. “My purse,” she said.
“Here.” I handed it back to her and Brenda opened it quick, swishing her hand around inside, like maybe she was afraid she’d lost her wallet. But it wasn’t her wallet she pulled out and squeezed in her hand as she sighed with relief. It was that bottle of medicine for pain. She tucked it back in her purse. “I should lock this in the safe so I don’t have to keep track of it,” she said.
Some Little Sisters had showed up by the time we locked Brenda’s purse away. A few started running up and down the aisles, and some were hovering around the tables in the back where the guys in the white jackets were shaking out tablecloths and setting out silver platters.
“Brenda!” Mrs. Bloom shouted from over near the dome lights. She had Anne Huxley and Melissa Jakes by the arms. “We can’t have the Little Sisters running all over getting in the way. Why are they here before their Big Sisters anyway? They were supposed to come together.” Mrs. Bloom blew out some mad, then took a big breath. “Herd them up and take them in the back. Start dressing them at five. Is makeup here yet?”
I figured Mrs. Bloom meant the ladies who were doing makeup, not the makeup itself, since she’d brought a big box of the stuff to the Starlight in the first place, so I piped up, “They’re coming at five.”
Mrs. Bloom handed Brenda Anne and Melissa’s wrists and said, “I’ve given Uriah orders to see that the volunteers delegated to assist our main acts are in place by five, too. Check and make sure they’re outside the dressing room doors then, Brenda, since you’ll be down that way. I’m going home to have my hair done and to dress. I’ll trust you to keep things in control here.”
“See my new bracelet, Brenda?” I said as we headed down the hall, five Little Sisters skipping behind us, chattering about how scared they were. “It’s a charm one.” I twirled the chain around so she could see the engraved star. “Teddy said it’s so I can remember every big singing event I have in my career.”
Brenda stopped, her eyebrows bunching like Teddy’s did when he got worried. She told the other Little Sisters to go inside the dressing room and not touch anything, then she took both my hands in hers and squatted down beside me. “Teaspoon,” she said. “When you look back on this night, remember the good things, okay? That you were a star on the stage of the Starlight Theater, and that you shined. Remember it as a happy day, okay? For you, for Teddy, your Ma, Charlie…”
“And you, too?”
Brenda’s eyes got watery, but she was smiling as she squeezed my hands, giving them a little shake each time she said Yes. Yes. “You remember that it was a very good night for me, too.”
The Little Sisters—me included—ran around the dressing room even if we weren’t supposed to. At least until Miss Gaylor stepped in the room and told us to knock it off in so many words. When the Big Sisters got there, Brenda handed them each an identical little blue box with a thank-you card taped to the bottom, while Mindy hopped beside me because she’d seen Mimi Hines in the hallway. Tina’s and Julie’s gifts came in a striped box, and after they opened them, they gave Brenda a hug. “It was so nice of you to write us such sweet notes and give us such extravagant gifts,” Tina said, waving the little gift card, a thin gold chain dangling from her hand.
“It’s just a little something to say thank you for being Big Sisters,” Brenda said. “And for tolerating me the past couple of months. Mother bought the same necklaces for all the Big Sisters, but I wanted to give my best friends something special.”
“Oh, Brenda. Thank you,” Tina said as she dangled a necklace—a necklace with a sapphire stone that I’d seen on Brenda before—in front of her face like she was trying to hypnotize herself. And Julie, who was holding jewelry that I’d seen on Brenda, too, agreed. “It’s okay, Brenda. We know you’ve had your plate full with the gala. Maybe after today, things can get back to normal again and we’ll see more of each other.”
When the girls scurried off, I said to Brenda. “Did you bring me a special present from home, too?”
Brenda put her hand on the side of my face. “I thought of it, Teaspoon. And I looked. But you know what? I have nothing of any real worth to give you. You already have the most valuable thing a person could have. You have hope.”
“Maybe so,” I said, “but I kind of like that necklace you have on.”
“I can’t believe I saw her,” Mindy said the second Brenda was called away, still hopping and looking at me like I’d been listening to her the whole time.
“Who?” I asked.
“Mimi Hines!”
“Did you talk to her?” I asked.
“No. I was too scared.”
I looked at the clock above Mindy’s head and saw that it would be five o’clock in ten minutes. I grabbed Mindy’s arm. “Come on, Mindy. I need to go meet the ladies who are doing our makeup, because they won’t know where to go. We’ll knock on Miss Hines’s door so you can say hi to her.” I told her I would talk first.
“Right there. That’s where I saw her,” Mindy said, pointing to the door with the MIMI HINES nameplate on it. The person assigned to being Mimi’s helper wasn’t at the door, so I knocked.
“Teaspoon!” Mindy’s giggle was filled with scared.
Mimi herself answered the door dressed in a dark green robe—which reminded me that I’d have to get a nice robe when I got famous. Her head was piled high with brown curls, and a long fat one hung down over her shoulder. She looked real pretty. “Miss Hines,” I said. “This here is Mindy Brewer. She’s a big fan of yours. Maybe you could give her your autograph… or a necklace, or something.” I shoved Mindy into her, then took off.
The Starlight had calmed down some by the time I got out to the main lobby, and everybody in it was dressed fancy as movie stars. Especially Mrs. Bloom.
She w
as over by the doors, right where I was headed, wearing a long black dress with a big brooch tucked between her balloons. She had a mink stole wrapped around her shoulders and folded inside her elbows. A fancy hat sat on top of her French twist. Some women I didn’t know were standing near her, fussing.
“Oh, where did you get such lovely opera pumps, Gloria?” one of the ladies asked.
Mrs. Bloom stretched her leg and set the tip of her pointy shoe on the carpet so the ladies could see it under her full skirt. “They’re from France. Gunmetal-gray. I didn’t know what I’d think of this color, but I do rather love it.”
“Yes, very smart,” a lady in a fur wrapped around her shoulders said, and Mrs. Bloom replied with, “Why thank you, Helen, and your stole is breathtaking.” Helen moved her shoulders side-to-side as she thanked her, making the fur on her stole ripple so that it looked as real as Poochie stirring from a nap. “I’m surprised to see so many women in Borgana and rhinestones,” Helen said, “but I suppose…”
The women nodded and hushed.
I was leaned up against the door, my hands on the glass, popping it open now and then to peer down the street, when I heard Mrs. Bloom say, “Excuse me.” Just like that, she was behind me. “Isabella, get your hands off the glass. You’re making prints. And what are you doing out here in the first place? You should be dressing.”
“I know. But I’m waiting for the ladies who are going to do our makeup. They won’t know where to go.”
I didn’t see Mr. Morgan, but Mrs. Bloom did. “Uriah, come here,” she snapped. Then she told him to wait for “the makeup girls” and to show them back. “And you go get dressed,” she told me. Then she hurried off to trade compliments with more of her friends, I suppose.
“Who am I waitin’ for, Teaspoon?” Mr. Morgan asked.
“The Taxi Stand Ladies. You know. Those two ladies who hang around across from The Pop Shop, where you stand if you need a lift in Ralph’s taxi. The fancy ones. They’re doing our makeup.”
Mr. Morgan’s eyes got huge. “Mrs. Bloom hired those two?”
“Nope,” I said. “I did. I chose good, didn’t I?”
Mr. Morgan nodded his head slowly, his mouth grinning wide. “Oh, yeahhhhh,” he said.
I thanked Mr. Morgan and was ready to run off when the door opened. In walked Leonard Gaylor, tuxedo-spruced and carrying a bunch of red roses. I gave him a glare, and he walked past me. Fast. Probably because he was afraid I’d attack his ankles again.
“Leonard!” Mrs. Bloom called, tossing her head back. As I hurried past her, I could hear her telling a new group of women what a “patient dear” Leonard was while Brenda was busy putting the gala together. “…and then to bring flowers,” she said. “How sweet of you.” It was enough to make me want to bite Mrs. Bloom right above her gunmetal opera pumps!
The hallway leading to the dressing room was so crowded that I had to squeeze my way through. I got in between the side-by-side doors that had LES PAUL and MARY FORD on them when some man stepped on my foot. Hard. And while I was hopping in place and checking to make sure my shoes didn’t get scuffs over the shine, I heard Mr. Carter, the emcee, say to someone, “I don’t understand. They certainly should be here by now, you’d think. I’ll talk to Mrs. Bloom.”
The whole room was sparking like lightning when I got back to our dressing room and found Brenda. The Big Sisters were dressed and huddled in front of the mirrors, checking their hems to make sure their slips weren’t showing, or pushing bobby pins in the parts of their hair that wanted to poke out. Most of the Little Sisters were twirling in their skirts, fanning their faces and each other’s.
Brenda was pulling my dress over my head, being careful not to wreck my hair, when the Taxi Stand Ladies came in. I had to wait for the dress to drop so I could make sure it was them. Walking Doll had on the same suit Charlie and me had seen on Thornton Street, proving it had been her. She wasn’t wearing her mole, but she was wearing her locket. The Kenosha Kid was dressed in a suit, too—even though I thought they both should have had on their silkies, which were fancier. Their legs were even in nylons, and their hair was twisted on their heads, Mrs.-Bloom-style.
They stood in the doorway at first, and Mrs. Gaylor hurried to them. Probably because she thought they were mothers of Little Sisters, and it was the rule, for tonight anyway, no mas could be in our dressing room, just Sisters. “They’re our makeup ladies, Mrs. Gaylor,” I shouted over the noise.
Mrs. Gaylor led the Taxi Stand Ladies to two chairs alongside the table where she’d handed out fans. I watched them and waved fast. Tina and Julie were watching them, too. Leaning close to whisper in each other’s ears.
Brenda was patting my hair into place, since I told her not to brush it or it would just get poufy. “Brenda… the two at the table,” Tina said. “Julie and I just figured out where we’ve seen them before. My God, Brenda. Do you know who they are?”
“Our makeup ladies,” I said.
“Brenda,” Tina said, her face tipped down, like she didn’t want anybody to even read her lips. “They’re the whores that hang on the corner of Fifth and Washington. The ones our mothers are trying to have run out of town. Remember them? My God!”
Whores? The Taxi Stand Ladies didn’t have any babies!
Brenda just jiggled my barrette a little to make sure it was tight, then she told me to go get my makeup on.
Mindy had her makeup put on first, and when she was done, she found me in line. “She gave me her autograph, Teaspoon. On one of those glossies. She wrote on it, too. For Mindy Brewer, my pretty little fan. Best Wishes, Mimi Hines. Brenda put it in a safe place for me.” Mindy was smiling, and she wasn’t even covering her mouth, which was a good thing or she would have smeared her Taxi Stand Lady lips.
I sang “Sisters” to myself as I waited in Walking Doll’s line, twirling when the dance steps required it. When the room stopped spinning, I saw Tina whispering in Mrs. Gaylor’s ear. And Mrs. Gaylor’s hand going over what little balloons she had, just like Mrs. Fry did when she got a worry or a scare, only Mrs. Gaylor didn’t have a hankie.
Before you knew it, most of the Big Sisters were gawking at the Taxi Stand Ladies and standing back like they were scared of them. But not the Little Sisters, who beamed as Walking Doll and The Kenosha Kid painted their faces and told them how beautiful they were. Even if some weren’t.
“You excited?” Walking Doll asked me as she rubbed red in circles over my cheeks.
“You bet,” I said. “It’s my debut. And my ma’s coming. You can meet her, since I didn’t get a chance to bring her to the taxi stand yet. She’s going to wear a dress from a boutique.”
Walking Doll sure was happy for me. So happy that she popped a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t scratch or rub your face now,” she said as she pulled the bib thing she’d strung around my neck off and rubbed a spit-licked thumb over my forehead.
I hurried to check myself in the mirror. Whoo-ee! I was wearing Taxi Stand Lady makeup, and Teddy couldn’t even make me scrub it off.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Brenda said if we were quiet, we could keep the door open so we could hear the whole show until our spot. I got Poochie-growly, though, when those girls wouldn’t shut up and Mrs. Gaylor closed the door before the orchestra even finished tuning their instruments. “It’s just a bunch of noise. What’s there to listen to anyway, Teaspoon?” Rebecca said.
But it wasn’t just noise. All messy sounding or not, it was the beginning of the biggest day of my life, and I wanted to hear every single sound it had in it so my ears could remember it forever.
I ran to the door and laid my ear against it, pausing once to yell “Shut up!” to the Sisters, who were still gabbing and racing around, their noise drowning out almost every sound the orchestra made, but the drums and horns when they got loud. I clamped my hands over my mouth so I wouldn’t squeal out loud when the orchestra started the song Benny Goodman did, “Sing, Sing, Sing,” even though Louis Prima was the one who wrote it, l
ike Jay said.
When I couldn’t take it no more, I searched out Brenda, who was standing off by herself, as sleep-dreamy looking as a just-fed baby. “Can’t I please sit outside the door? It’s my debut night, Brenda, and I can’t hear nothing with all the racket going on in here.”
Brenda opened the door for me. “Hey, how come…,” some Little Sister called to Brenda before the door shut behind me.
I leaned against the wall, my hands clasped behind me, bumping in time to the music as I pictured my movie-star ma out there with Teddy and Charlie and the rest of the crowd, seated, after eating pinwheel sandwiches, sipping punch, and mingling with all the respectable townsfolk, waiting for me to light the stage of the Starlight Theater.
“Hey, Pip Squeak,” Jay called as he came rushing down the hall. “Get Brenda.” Boy, even when he was only walking fast, Jay looked like he was tap dancing.
I stuck my head in and called for Brenda, and when she came out, he told her she had to get to the stage because Mr. Carter was ready to introduce her and her mother. “We’ve got to stay on time. Five minutes for your mother’s welcome message, and then the intro to our first act.”
I was just about to follow Jay and Brenda, figuring I could watch from the side of the stage, when Mrs. Gaylor poked her head out of the room and peered down the hall. “You stay put, Teaspoon,” she said, “or you’ll come inside.” I crossed my arms over my scratchy dress and promised not to move.
I couldn’t hear every word Mrs. Bloom said, but she was welcoming everybody to the “new” Starlight Theater, and talking about the exciting show in store for them. She sure did brag Brenda up something fierce, saying how Brenda was responsible for the spectacle they were about to see. While the crowd was still clapping, she shouted into the mike, “From me and my wonderful daughter… enjoy the show!”
I didn’t make plans to head down to the stage. It just sort of happened. I was listening to the music, and my feet danced me all the way down there all on their own.