Rejected Writers Take the Stage

by Suzanne Kelman

  Twenty minutes later, the table was cleared away, and the audition team was all back in the theater for the afternoon session. Before we got started, Doris gave us some final instructions.

  “We’re looking for some good voices for our leads. We seem to have a lot of ensemble people, but right now only Marcy would work as a lead, so let’s see if we can find someone this afternoon.”

  From the wings strode Ernie, wearing his hat and spats. As he entered, he took on a whole new persona, transporting us back to an era gone by. He strutted forward with his cane under one arm and his top hat in the other. Doris tutted and Ethel echoed it.

  He got himself into position in the center of the stage and hit a dramatic pose, then started singing “Mr. Bojangles” a capella. He had a surprisingly rich, deep, resonant voice that reached out to us, embracing the whole space. He had great command of the stage, and it apparently wasn’t his first time performing. Even Stacy sat up and seemed impressed. He continued to sing and then went into a soft-shoe shuffle with some really fancy footwork. He was in a different world. He continued to sing and dance, ending on a crescendo that could have brought down crystal chandeliers.

  We couldn’t help ourselves, breaking into warm applause at the end of it. He broke into a broad grin when he heard it and took his time to complete a long, low bow. Then, as he straightened up, he added, quick as a whip, “So, where do I pick up my check?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  GIRLY SHOWS & FLORA THE BOLD

  Flora was in the bathroom, splashing water on her face as she listened to the sound of Ernie singing from the stage. It was pretty impressive, she thought. She knew she was going to have to sing too. With Dan’s arrival and everything that was going on with Marcy, she’d kind of put it in the back of her mind.

  But now there was no getting away from it. She was going to get up on that stage. She knew she didn’t need to do it if she really didn’t want to, but after Marcy’s display that morning, she had felt something rise up inside her. Something she was starting to get used to, boldness and fearlessness, spurred on by her painful mixed feelings for Dan. As she looked at her dripping face in the mirror, she decided something. She was not going to sit by and let her boyfriend be seduced by another woman. He had tried to talk to her all day, and she hated herself for not being able to tell him how she felt. She was in pain all the time, so she decided that after the audition she was going to confront him, no matter what. After all, he was her boyfriend.

  She stopped washing her face for a moment and looked at herself again in the mirror, realizing that was the first time she’d really thought of Dan as her boyfriend. Yes, she’d toyed with the idea of it since they’d met, even said the words out loud to Mr. Darcy, but now it was a real, taken-for-granted thought in her head. It gave her strength. She was going on that stage to show the world and the likes of Marcy Campbell that she was not afraid anymore. She dried her face, walked out of the bathroom, and practically ran into Marcy as she did.

  On seeing Flora, she did not look impressed. “Oh, it’s you, Florence,” she said with indignation.

  “Flora,” she responded, swallowing. “My name is Flora.” She said it with less conviction than she would have liked, but still, she was proud of herself.

  Marcy flicked her eyes at her as if she were saying whatever and pushed past her into the bathroom, saying offhandedly, “Excuse me. I have to get ready for the dance audition.”

  Flora felt that new feeling of boldness. The old Flora would have slunk out into the foyer, nodding her head and cowering. But this new Flora, the one fighting for her boyfriend, found her voice, saying, “Yes. I’m getting ready for my audition too.”

  Marcy stopped dead in her tracks, a bemused look on her face. “You’re really auditioning, then?” she asked, saying it with such a lack of belief, it was as if she were asking Flora if she was going on a trip to Mars. Then she added with contempt, “For what?”

  Flora felt the anger rise up into her chest. “The role that you want!” she said with conviction and exited the bathroom, leaving Marcy openmouthed and staring at the closed door as she went.

  Flora got into the foyer and blinked. Had she said that out loud? Had she just stood up to Marcy? It felt good.

  Ernie was just leaving the stage when Flora entered the auditorium. He glided into the wings with surprising agility for his age and build. Flora watched from the back and smiled. Then she saw the group taking notes on their clipboards. Annie had joined them, as only a couple of people had decided to audition in the afternoon, and she was knitting something pink, probably for Stacy’s baby. It made Flora smile. Annie was a sweet soul. As she watched Annie’s rhythmic clicking of her needles, she reminded herself that this was why she was doing all this—to help Annie keep her farm. After Flora’s parents passed away a few years ago, the Rejected Writers’ Book Club was the closest thing she had to a family.

  Taking a deep breath, she marched down the aisle and then backstage to where Dan was standing, watching. He looked almost boyish from behind, his head cocked to one side as he looked down at a clipboard Doris had handed to him. Flora thought once again how lucky she was to have him. He had just jumped in to help them with the audition, and she was pretty sure this was his first taste of show business. After all, he was a mechanic. She loved his easygoing, helpful self-confidence. Her heart softened. She wanted to reach out and give him a chance to explain what was going on. She walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist.

  For a second he jumped back and, seeing it was Flora, relaxed, taking a deep breath. Then he took her by the arms and pulled her in close to him as he whispered into her hair, “Thank goodness it was you. For a second I thought it was . . . someone else.”

  Flora knew he meant Marcy, even though he didn’t say her name. Then she realized he had just taken away any last doubt she had about him. Surely if his body could react like that just because he thought Marcy was hugging him, it was pretty obvious that he really didn’t care for her.

  Flora nodded at him, and with her newfound boldness, she walked assertively onstage. As she got into the center, she looked out into the auditorium. It was hard to see anything; the stage lights were so bright. She felt a wave of panic come over her, but she willed herself to stay rooted to the spot.

  Doris’s voice floated up to her. “What are you going to sing, Flora?”

  Flora stopped and thought for a minute. It had completely slipped her mind that she should have prepared something. She looked to side stage nervously, and she could see Dan encouraging her. She looked out into the lights again, but her tongue appeared to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. She suddenly felt very small. Then, as she started to panic, she heard something. It was the sound of Annie’s knitting needles clicking a little melody of its own, and it comforted her and reminded her again why she was there.

  She suddenly remembered that in third grade, she had learned the music from The Wizard of Oz, and she was pretty sure she could still remember all the words to “Somewhere over the Rainbow.” Couldn’t she? She moved nervously from foot to foot. Her silence was deafening her.

  Another voice came out of the darkness. It was Marcy’s.

  “I could go next if she isn’t up for it,” she said. “I have my dance routine ready to go.”

  That was all the encouragement that Flora needed. She opened her mouth and let out the sound. It started raspy and quiet at first; then as she became braver, she started to sing “Somewhere over the Rainbow” with gusto. She was surprised by her own voice. She knew she was singing, but somehow it didn’t sound like her. She kept going, all the time her voice and confidence becoming stronger with each line. This was actually fun. She threw back her head as she continued to hit the top notes and hear them soar as the sound of her voice filled the stage. She came to the last line and finished on a high crescendo and took a huge breath in.

  Nothing moved or stirred in the theater for a second. Even Annie’s needles appeared to have stop
ped clicking together. For a split second, Flora thought it was so bad that they didn’t know how to respond. Suddenly, she could hear clapping, slowly at first, then louder. And from the side of the stage Dan shouted, “Bravo!” She smiled and felt tears of relief prick her eyes.

  She started to walk off the stage when Ernie met her halfway and extended a hand to her, saying, “You better take your bow, young lady—you were a mighty fine performer—and then allow me to escort you off.”

  Flora bobbed her head toward the audience and then, taking his arm, she was more than happy to leave the stage. Had she done it? It felt good. Oh, yes it did. Flora had sung, and apparently she wasn’t half bad.

  As she entered the wings, Dan embraced her, and Marcy, standing there for her dance audition, was boiling over with what appeared to be jealousy. “Very nice,” she spat out, though her tone did not match the sentiment.

  Flora floated down into the auditorium where the rest of the girls sat. Doris nodded at her with a look that seemed to hint at a newfound respect, and Annie grabbed her arm.

  “Very good, Flora,” she said with a giggle. Then quietly under her breath, “You are sure going to give that Marcy girl a run for her money.”

  Flora smiled, and for the first time since Marcy had appeared in town, she felt her confidence rise.

  Marcy didn’t let Flora bask for long. She was already on the stage, standing in the middle, tapping her foot when the group looked up. Her expression demonstrated that she was more than a little put out.

  “I’m ready to perform my dance audition now,” she said in a demanding tone, obviously trying hard to pull any attention from Flora, who was now settling herself down in the audience.

  “Oh goody,” mocked Stacy sarcastically. “We’d hate to miss it.”

  The rest of the group sniggered. Not waiting for any further encouragement, Marcy placed her iPod and speakers on the same stool, and not even waiting for Dan this time, she pressed the “Play” button. The music exploded into life and filled the theater with the cabaret number “Hey, Big Spender.”

  Marcy embodied the sensual tone of the music, slinking around the stage so provocatively it even made Annie stop knitting as she watched, aghast. At one point, Marcy pulled a full-length pink feather boa from the same bag that had made an appearance that morning. She minced off into the wings, and when she came back to center stage, she had it around Ernie’s neck as she pulled him back out. He looked like a more than willing victim. He chuckled as he matched her movement and tried his best to dance as she cooed, “Hey big spender, spend a little time with me.”

  “Well, I never,” Lottie said, her pen in midair. She looked down at the clipboard and murmured, “I don’t think I have a box to check for that.”

  Once Marcy finished, all that could be heard was silence. Even Doris’s admiration appeared to be waning.

  Finally Doris spoke. “Thank you, Marcy, for that”—she appeared to be fighting for the right words to frame what we’d just seen, then settled on one—“routine. We’re going to talk it over, and we’ll let you know which part suits you.”

  Marcy just picked up her iPod and clicked off into the wings, leaving Ernie still onstage with her boa draped around his neck.

  He looked out into the audience and said, “I think I’m going to enjoy being in your girly show.” Then Marcy stomped back on, pulled her boa from his neck, and disappeared.

  At the end of the day, Lavinia talked her sister into auditioning for the witches’ roles, and she pulled her onstage, where they performed a very comical version of the song “Sisters.”

  At the end, Lottie giggled uncontrollably, saying, “Momma used to make us perform that for our relatives every Christmas. I always thought it might come in handy one day.”

  After the audition, Dan approached Flora gingerly and asked if he could walk her home. She nodded, and they slipped out into the crisp afternoon together. They walked through the town in silence. When they arrived at her door, Mr. Darcy was at once at their feet. Flora picked him up and went inside. She hugged her cat defensively. She felt tired, tired because she hadn’t slept much with all the excitement of the audition, but also tired of not knowing where she stood with Dan. Maybe she’d just have it out with him once and for all.

  Dan stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She knew he probably sensed that Flora didn’t want him any closer as she stared blankly out the window.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, the concern apparent in his tone.

  It’s now or never, she thought. At least she would know one way or the other, and she could move on, move past this. She turned to Dan and looked at him. Telling him was going to be harder than she thought.

  “I went out the other night . . .” Her voice cracked a little, but she pushed on. Dan looked at her, bewildered. She continued, with more conviction, “I went out to the movie theater.”

  Dan looked surprised. “I wish I’d known,” he said. “I was at the movie theater the other night too!”

  She interrupted him. “Yes, I know.”

  Dan seemed taken aback by her response. “You saw me?” he asked.

  “Yes.” But she couldn’t say any more. The words just caught in her throat.

  Dan looked confused. “If you saw me, why didn’t you say hello?”

  “I didn’t actually see you at the movie. I saw you afterward, when you were at the Nook with . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say Marcy’s name.

  Dan filled in the blanks. “Marcy,” he stated. “If you saw me, why didn’t you come in and have a drink with me?”

  Flora turned away from him. This was going to be easier to say if she wasn’t looking at him as she said it.

  “Because when I saw you, you and Marcy were . . .” She still couldn’t say it. Her voice cracked again as she nervously petted Mr. Darcy furiously.

  But Dan knew instantly.

  “You saw her kiss me, didn’t you?” he said, his face now flushed. All at once, he was across the room, and he spun her around to look into her face.

  Her lower lip trembled, and she fought back tears. She looked deeply into his green eyes, eyes that seemed so full of concern but also relief.

  “Flora,” he said with conviction, “that was nothing.”

  Flora’s eyes flashed, and she looked out the window again, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone. “It didn’t look like nothing.”

  Dan turned her chin gently back to find his gaze, then watched her intently.

  “I love you,” he said with real emotion. She felt the breath catch in her throat as he continued. “Do you not know that?”

  The tears now flowed freely down her cheeks. She had wanted to hear this, wanted to believe him, but she still wasn’t sure if she could trust him. She needed to know.

  “If you love me, why were you kissing her?” She tried to sound angry, but she was losing steam. Dan pulled her toward him slowly and held her tightly. Mr. Darcy purred contentedly between them.

  Dan whispered gently into her ear, “I wasn’t kissing her. She kissed me. She took me by surprise. She was talking about a play we were in together, and the next thing I knew she was kissing me. I have no real understanding why, because to be honest with you, I wasn’t listening to her. Flora, you need to know I have no feelings for Marcy, other than as a friend. She means nothing to me. You, however, mean the world to me.”

  She was sobbing quietly now into his shoulder. This was what she’d wanted to hear. As he said it, she felt her whole body relax into his. It was like a large weight had been lifted from her. He held her close for a minute and stroked her hair.

  “All I’ve thought about since I got here was spending time with you, and Marcy has just been so demanding.”

  Pulling away and looking around the room for a Kleenex, Flora continued to sob dispiritedly. “So why did you bring her, then?” She sniffed as she dropped Mr. Darcy onto his favorite cushion and blew hard into a tissue.

  “I didn’t re
ally have much choice. She’s considering moving up here, she told me, though I have no idea why. This seems like the last place in the world that would be a good fit for her to live. She thrives in the excitement of the city.”

  “Have you considered that she might just be here because of you?” Flora asked bluntly.

  Dan appeared to consider her words. “What would I have to do with her decision?”

  Then it appeared to suddenly hit him. “You think she’s interested in me?” It was as if he hadn’t considered this possibility before now. He said it almost more as a question to himself than to her.

  Flora nodded her head.

  Dan started to laugh. “That’s crazy. She’s my friend’s little sister, and besides that, even if that was the case, it’s ridiculous and futile because the reality is, I’m already head over heels in love with someone else.”

  He pulled Flora into his arms again and, without hesitation, kissed her long and passionately, pulling her even closer to him. She wanted to ask him more, but she melted in response to his touch, his urgency mingled with her own.

  Breathlessly, she finally pulled away, and they laughed together tenderly. He locked his arms around her waist, and her stomach rumbled. She laughed nervously. “I’m so glad that’s cleared up because, as you can hear, I am starving.”

  “Let’s go and get something to eat?” he asked. “My treat.”

  “I would love that.”

  After they had eaten at the Crab, they went out for a long walk on the beach. As they stared out at the water, Flora suddenly remembered something.

  “Dan, what was the surprise you talked about? I’ve been hoping it wasn’t Marcy.”

  Dan shook his head. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you this. Now, I don’t want you to get too excited because nothing is finalized yet, but it looks like I might be able to be up here in Southlea Bay for a few months.”

  “What?” shrieked Flora. “How come?”