by Cooper, Doug
Amanda opened the door and stuck her head out. “What are you doing out here? The video is ending soon.”
Max collected himself for a moment, nodding his head. “Yes, coming.” He looked down the hallway one last time even though Crystal was long gone. He realized he had become the bully he had always hated, more interested in controlling than helping. Taking in a deep breath, he turned and walked inside.
From the TV, soft piano music played as the closing sequence of the kitchen and dining area at the Western filled the screen. The production lines bustled with activity in the background. Oasis guests sat at the table, eating. Crystal and Bill served food to a line of guests snaking toward the door. Les stirred a large stainless steel pot on the stove. Penny sprayed dishes and loaded them on a rack in the dishwasher. Max received the clean dishes on the other side and put them away. Penny’s voiceover was warm and compassionate. “This may not be the jackpot people imagine winning when they come to Vegas, but this is the one the town was built on and the one still available today for those who contribute to one another.”
Dow Jones Close: Closed
Chapter Fifty-Six
Date: Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Dow Jones Open: 17,971.51
Miss C’s Music & Dance had been open almost two months. What had started as one class on Wednesday evening and two on Saturday quickly grew to seven classes following the CBS News Sunday Morning story. The classes were preschool dance, children’s choir, song and dance for theater, jazz and hip-hop, and ballet ranging from ages three to fourteen. The jazz and hip-hop and ballet were separated in two classes, one for ages three to eight and the other nine to fourteen. The song and dance for theater and the older student ballet and jazz and hip-hop classes met three times a week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. The other four classes were held just once per week on Saturdays. Crystal could barely keep up with the workload, and people were asking for more, wanting piano, guitar, and drum lessons and one-on-one tutoring. Max committed to further modifications for additional studio spaces and offered the help of his HR staff in hiring more instructors.
Max was really trying. Crystal could see that. After the Community Money party at Max’s when Crystal and he had it out in the hallway, she did notice a difference, or maybe she just felt better because she was finally able to say how she really felt and for the first time, she knew that he had heard her.
The day after the party Max had stopped by her ballet class. Soft adagio piano music played through the speakers. Crystal was wrapping up the class walking around giving notes from the session to each of the nine to fourteen year olds, who were doing their best to hold first position. Crystal had been so focused on the class, she hadn’t noticed Max come in. This is how it was when she was instructing, and why she was enjoying it so much. The rest of the world faded away, just like when she used to dance. The sadness and pain she used to feel when thinking about her mother were gone. Opening the school, working with the children, and singing and dancing almost every day brought joy back into her life. Her bitterness and resentment waned. The memories of her mother had become comforting companions. When teaching, she would remember the instruction her mother had given her and the stories she had shared from her own teaching at the pre-school. She no longer felt alone. Her mother was always with her, and for the first time in a long while that was a good thing.
Crystal had already let go of what happened the night of the Community Money party, but seeing him, she realized he obviously had not. She walked to the head of the class and curtsied to the students initiating for them to finish with a reverence combining port de bras with curtsies from the ballerinas and a bow from the one male in the class. Afterward they all clapped, and the students talked quietly amongst themselves moving to the side to collect their belongings.
Crystal walked over to the sound system and crouched down to stop the music and cue up the songs for the next jazz and hip-hop class, which was scheduled to start in thirty minutes. She heard the sound of the heels from Max’s short steps on the wooden floor behind her. She just kept fiddling with the buttons and knobs on the receiver. He said, “Seems like the classes are going well.”
Crystal stood and angled toward the square folding table and chairs she used as a desk. “The students are working hard. Good things happen with consistent effort.” She sat down at the table and scribbled down notes in her notebook.
Max followed her, stopping at the table. He gestured toward one of the chairs. “May I?”
“By all means,” Crystal said, not lifting her eyes from the notebook. “You own the place.”
Max climbed up on one of the folding chairs. “I just wanted to come by and apologize for last night. You were right. It was selfish of me. I never thought how difficult that might be for you, how difficult any of this has been.”
Crystal looked up from her notebook. “That’s OK. It’s over now. I survived, and Penny told me it went well, so that’s good.”
“I promise, it won’t happen again,” Max said. “From now on, we’ll make the decisions that affect us, together.” Crystal didn’t say anything. She had heard him but wasn’t sure she completely believed him. Max said, “Which is why I’m here. I have an idea I wanted to run by you.”
Crystal folded her arms and sat back in her chair in a defensive position. “I’m listening.”
Max leaned forward on the table. “I was thinking about how hard the students have been working and with the holidays approaching, it might be nice to have some sort of recital.”
Crystal reacted like she usually did when he proposed anything: she balked at the idea. “This sounds like the party all over again, just another way for you to capitalize on the hard work and positivity of others.”
“That’s not the case at all,” Max said. “I just want the students’ effort to be rewarded and for the parents to see how good their kids are doing.”
Crystal hesitated, thinking what her response would be if it was anyone other than Max sitting across from her. Nope. It was just too soon. She said, “But we’ve only been open seven weeks, and the majority of the students have just joined in the last few. Most of the classes are barely at the organized chaos level, let alone ready for public consumption.”
Max leaned back and hopped down from the chair. “Well ultimately it’s your decision. I’m not going to push. If you think it’s too soon, then we can wait. Maybe do something in the spring.”
Crystal looked at him skeptically, wondering if this wasn’t just another tactic to get what he wants. “I do. What if the results don’t meet the parents’ expectations? I just don’t want a bad showing to kill the momentum we’re building.”
And that was the last she had heard about it from Max. It was actually Les who convinced her to have the recital. What Les had to say would always be worth a little bit more to Crystal. He never had an agenda; he just let things unfold, asking questions to allow someone’s perspective to shift rather than pushing it in a direction by saying what he thought. When Crystal was complaining one morning about Max showing up at class and pushing her to have the recital, Les asked her point blank, “Why does having a recital scare you?”
Crystal said, “I’m just worried the kids aren’t ready, and it’ll hurt their confidence and they’ll want to quit, or their parents will think it’s a waste of time and pull them out.”
“Is your fear really based on their feelings and actions or your own?” Les asked in his even and calming tone. He likely had more he could’ve added, but he didn’t. That was just Les. He always knew how to pick the one question that cut to the core of the issue and let the person sift through all the scenarios and rationale.
Crystal considered his words. It wasn’t as if this were a preview or opening of a show like she was accustomed to from her theater days. There wouldn’t be critics in the audience looking to grab attention with snarky reviews. These were just kids l
ooking to have fun and hopefully just parents happy to see their children having fun, although she did remember some pushy dance moms who had much grander views of their children’s talents than were really there. Crystal said, “I guess maybe it’s a little bit more about my fear. I mean, I’m still really new at this. In front of the kids, I feel fine. But what if the parents see through me? I don’t really have any training to be an instructor.”
Les said, “But you grew up in a home infused with music and dance and have put thousands and thousands of hours into perfecting your craft. Aside from maybe some directors you have worked with, how many people have you met that actually know more than you do? I doubt any of them will be in that room, and if they are, they will see your brilliance and passion.”
“I guess in the end it’s about the students,” Crystal said. “I’ll ask them. If they want to do it, we’ll do it.”
Of course the answer from the students was a resounding yes. Any opportunity to shine in front of their parents and friends was a welcome one. The children became so excited and energized by the idea that Crystal actually felt guilty for having considered not doing it. The students’ attention and effort in classes also improved once they had a goal. In addition, the sign-ups for new classes scheduled to begin after the first of the year had filled by the middle of the month. Max had been right, but Crystal would never admit that to him.
While the studio facilities were brand new and state of the art, they weren’t suitable for a recital. There just wasn’t enough room to put on a show and provide seating for spectators. Max used his connections with the City of Las Vegas to arrange for the Office of Cultural Affairs to procure the auditorium at the Historic Fifth Street School.
Originally called the Las Vegas Grammar School, the school had been built in 1936 to accommodate the increasing population due to the Hoover Dam construction and legalization of gambling. It had been referred to as the Fifth Street School almost since its inception, due to its location on Fifth Street, which was renamed Las Vegas Boulevard in 1959. After the school closed, it sat empty for several years before the city redeveloped it, preserving the mission style building and getting it added to the National Register of Historic Places. It was also conveniently located across the street from Bill’s place at the Juhl so Crystal didn’t have far to travel to and from the rehearsals and performances.
Tickets for the recital were ten dollars in advance and fifteen the night of the show. Children accompanied by adults got in free. Les and Bill ran the concession stand, with all the proceeds going to the Oasis. The program was scheduled for an hour and a half with each of the seven classes performing for three songs and a fifteen-minute intermission. Penny teased Crystal about the length of the dance sets being three songs. She said, “Which stage you training them for, the one you started on or the one you ended up on?” Crystal laughed it off. It was only six months ago, but she was so far away from it all. She had hardly even thought about those days anymore. It seemed like another life. When she had started stripping, she put her real life on hold, and now that she was ready to resume, she let go of it as if that person had never existed. The last thing she was going to do was allow the timeout she had taken for a few years ruin twenty-plus years of hard work and dedication.
Four hundred folding chairs were arranged in rows of twenty across the lacquered hardwood floor of the auditorium. A red velvet curtain covered the thirty-five-foot opening of the stage. Crystal and Penny and several of the parents spent most of the day of the recital decorating and setting up for the show. The students arrived at four to do final rehearsals. Most of them had never performed in an auditorium, so Crystal wanted them to experience the feeling of being behind the curtain when it opened.
During the rehearsal, many of the students froze looking out at the auditorium full of all the empty chairs. She told them it would be easier when the chairs were full, the lights were on the stage, and the auditorium was dark. She knew from her own experience that the first time feeling all the eyes on you and not being able to see anyone was actually worse. The pressure of the moment is what pushed you through…for most people. There were always a few who couldn’t block it out and would run off stage, but she didn’t tell them that part.
The ballet students went first, followed by the theater song and dance group, then the jazz and hip-hop, the preschool dance, and the children’s choir wrapped up the show. She used songs from Giselle, the Nutcracker, and Rosamunde for the ballet; “Hard-Knock Life” from Annie, “Join the Circus” from Barnum, and “Freak Flag” from Shrek for the theater set; “Yeah” by Usher, “Mambo No. 5” by Lou Bega, and “Swagger Jagger” by Cher Lloyd with the jazz and hip-hop group; “Good Ship Lollipop,” “I Feel Pretty,” and “Penguin Cha Cha” for the preschool dance numbers, and finished off with a compilation of holiday songs by the choir. The pace of the show was set with the ballet music to ease into the evening, the theater songs to offer some humor, the jazz and hip-hop to pump up the energy, the preschool dance to lighten the mood and pull at the heart strings, and the holiday songs to round out the evening and put everyone in a festive spirit. Of course there were an assortment of stumbles, wardrobe malfunctions, forgotten and flubbed lyrics, and stage fright, as would be expected, but they only added to the charm and endearment of the show.
After each of the groups filed onstage to take final bows to the standing crowd, calls for Crystal echoed until she emerged onstage to take her well-deserved bow. She was honored and humbled, feeling her face reddening from the raucous reception. Of all the curtain calls she had done, the one for the show she hadn’t even performed in meant the most. But it was the person who strode down the aisle carrying a bouquet of roses that unleashed the tears. It was her old agent and family friend Maura, whom she hadn’t seen since her mom’s funeral.
She stared at Maura in shock, almost as much as if her own mother had been standing in front of her. She closed her eyes and shook her head, opening her eyes slowly to see if the picture had changed.
Maura presented Crystal the flowers, tears welling in her own eyes. “You did good, kid. Your mom would be so proud.”
Crystal swallowed hard, fighting off the emotion. “But how? Who?”
“Old Maura might be retired but she still has her connections. Let’s talk after, kid. We have a lot to catch up on.”
Crystal bent over and hugged Maura, almost pulling her up on stage in her own excitement. Maura squeezed her back. The auditorium swelled with applause.
When the last of the parents filed out with their wired performers still buzzing from the show, Crystal walked out from backstage and sat on the front edge, looking at Penny and Maura sitting together. With her legs dangling over the side, she leaned back, propping herself up with her arms. “Aha, now I see who your connection is, Maura. How on earth did you two ever connect?” She bounced her legs against the stage.
“It really wasn’t that hard, actually,” Penny said. “I remembered you talking about Maura before, so I asked Damon to see if he could track her down. She retired a few years ago, but she had a bit of a reputation as a tough negotiator in her day so some of the older agents in his firm knew of her right away.”
Maura said, “What can I say? I guess I’m unforgettable.”
“That you are.” Crystal hopped off the stage. Bill and Les entered through the doors from the lobby, walking down the aisle toward them, after closing down the concession stand. Crystal asked, “How’d you make out tonight?”
Les patted the side of the steel box tucked under his arm. “Over five hundred in sales and almost another three in donations.”
Bill held an unwieldy cardboard box pressed against his chest. When he got to the front, he dropped the box on a chair, shaking the contents back and forth. “Anyone hungry?” He took out a bag of peanut M&M’S and ripped open the package.
“Famished,” Crystal said. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” She rummaged t
hrough the box and pulled out a bag of Twizzlers.
“Let’s all grab a late dinner and celebrate,” Penny said. “Where’d Max go?”
Les said, “He had to run to get to a late meeting, or maybe it was to get ready for an early one in the morning. I can’t remember. You know Max, always on the go.”
“If Maura’s in, I’m in,” Crystal said. “Bill, you’re coming aren’t you?”
“Think I’ll call it an early night, too,” he said, chomping on a mouthful of the M&M’S. “I’m tired, and with all the candy I ate tonight, I could probably stand to skip a meal or three.”
Les reached over and rubbed Bill’s belly. “I’m surprised we turned a profit with Billy minding the store.”
“Just doing quality control.” Bill emptied the rest of the bag into his mouth.
“Actually, I’m going to have to pass, too,” Les said. “I have a full day tomorrow.”
“Party poopers.” Penny stuck out her bottom lip at them. She turned to Maura and Crystal. “Looks like it’s just us girls.”
The group said their good-byes with promises to meet at the Oasis in the morning to help with breakfast. The ladies went back to Siegel’s 1941, the twenty-four-hour restaurant at the El Cortez. Penny had gotten Maura a free room at the hotel from the connections she developed while filming part of the Community Money piece there. Siegel’s had vintage décor and archival artwork, hearkening back to the time when Ben Siegel and Meyer Lansky were calling the shots at the casino. The atmosphere, emotion from the evening, and three glasses of wine that Maura had during dinner triggered an onslaught of stories from LA, New York, and Las Vegas covering the sixties to the nineties, when Maura, as she put it, “finally had to settled down.” Crystal knew Maura had never been married, but she hadn’t been aware of her wild and colorful past. Maura mixed in stories about Valeria and Crystal as a young girl. Some of them Crystal remembered, and some were new or she had forgotten.