“No yawning permitted, my dear. Swallow this.”
Val did. True. In less than fifteen minutes the combination of joint, champagne, and tiny “up” gave her a rush she’d never felt before. When a couple of columnists stopped at their table and raved about their look Val didn’t feel as shy as usual. One woman asked Val about Nicky and their wedding plans, she answered without hesitation.
“To be quite honest, we feel married now. Of course, we still want the wedding as soon as possible.”
Another columnist was more interested in Nicky than her. He wanted to know if the stories he’d heard about Nicky’s sex life were true. High and having a ball, Val answered dramatically.
“Whatever you’ve heard, just multiply it by ten.”
The whole table roared with laughter as the three amigos hurried back to the dance floor, fleeing from any more questions. Three or four mere mortals had been allowed to join them dancing. Joe, the official timekeeper, decided it was time for their intimate circle to split and hit the Closet Case before it grew any bigger.
They all managed to pile into the limo. Joints came out, followed by white powder. This was carefully balanced on a tiny gold spoon, which Karen carefully placed under the noses sitting closest to her. It was flying time when they arrived at their destination. They were down on the docks in the old meatpacking district. No one was around, but Joe said he knew the way. They went into what looked like an abandoned building. Giggling and nervous, they all jammed into an old freight elevator. Slowly it creaked and complained as it went up and up and finally came to a shuddering stop. Joe pushed up the old metal door.
Deafening music hit them. Strobe lights flashed. It looked like a Charlie Chaplin movie in color. When the flashing stopped, Val noticed one huge wall was covered from floor to ceiling in mirror; the other walls were covered in psychedelic graffiti that glowed in the dark. And the place was packed!
Val couldn’t decide if the person who’d greeted them at the door was a man or a woman. But whatever gender it was, the person had known Karen and Joe and had made a path to one of the empty VIP tables near the dance floor. Screams had gone up when the crowd recognized Val; then just as quickly the initial excitement of her entrance was over, and the dancing started up again.
It struck Val that there were more boys than girls on the dance floor. Yes, boys were definitely dancing with each other. She couldn’t get over the colors, the smoke, the loud music, and the strong smell of patchouli. The whole scene was overwhelming. She had never been that aware of all her senses at one time. She sipped the tequila sunrise that had magically appeared before her, and it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to take it all in. Another roar went up. Val opened her eyes and there was Judy Garland with her entourage making an announcement to everyone within earshot.
“I hear hang-ups aren’t allowed at the Closet Case. Ha ha. I’ll drink to that! The city hasn’t had a good vibe since the last time they cleaned up all the gay bars in town. This is fantastic; we can definitely get our groove on here.”
Everyone cheered in agreement. Val screamed above the music trying to get Joe’s attention.
“What time does all this madness end?”
Joe screamed back.
“This is an after-hours bar, and as the bars in town don’t close till four you can figure on seeing daylight when we leave.”
Time hadn’t entered Val’s mind. It occurred to her that her dear mother would be fit to be tied. She managed to get Karen’s attention.
“I have to call the hotel and tell my mother where I am. She gets worried. I’m not usually out this late.”
Karen smiled, took her by the arm, and led her to an enormous guy who guarded the door. She explained the situation to him and gave him a twenty dollar bill. He nodded, and just like a maître d’ at a fine restaurant, he led them through the crowd to a private room. Two big bouncers with their feet up on the desk, smoking big cigars and watching television, straightened up when the girls walked in. They turned down the volume on the TV. It was surprisingly quiet. Soundproof. A two-way mirror reflected the dancers. From where Val stood, she could see everything going on in the club. The goons were very polite and insisted on dialing her number for her. Embarrassed beyond belief she said, “hello” to her mother.
“Valerie Rhodes, do you know the time? Did you forget about that important appointment at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon? Do you know I haven’t slept a wink worrying to death about you?”
“Yes I know all that, Mummy, and I’ll do it all, I promise.”
Before her mother could say another word Val hung up.
“Whew, that was a mistake.”
“Come on let’s get back to the crowd. Thank you gentlemen.”
Karen gave each of the men a twenty dollar bill.
“No problem. Any time.”
The two heavies put their feet back up on the desk and turned up the volume on their cop show. Karen put her arm around Val’s shoulder.
“Come on; forget it. Here, take a nibble of this little goodie.”
Val didn’t hesitate and swallowed a teeny corner of an orange triangular pill. It was mescaline.
“Good one. Thanks.”
The music hit them like a ton of bricks. Sure enough, the little nibble of the orange triangle did the trick. Mother was forgotten, and the night continued on.
Karen pointed to a man sitting near them.
“He’s important, Val. Be nice to him.”
As they danced, Karen discreetly pointed at a woman dancing next to them.
“She’s a producer, Val, but don’t let her get you in the ladies room.”
“Those two beauties over there are an item and have the hottest boutique in town. They sell some very interesting toys in the back room.”
This went on. It was endless. It was fun. The fact that the crowd was so star-studded and socially salted let everyone there just relax and not be on.
Val loved the way she felt. She wanted to dance all night. That little orange nibble had done its magic. She couldn’t help but wonder what Nicky would say when she told him about her first big night out on the town. The Rainbow Room, a gay after-hours bar, and Judy Garland! Unbelievable.
Going home, the ride uptown was a jumble of bodies feeling no pain. Val didn’t want her night to end, but it had to. She was dropped off at the Plaza, hating to leave the others. They were continuing on to Karen’s for breakfast, which they’d ordered from the limo to be delivered from Reuben’s.
Val floated through the now-empty lobby. The elevator man knew her floor, so luckily she didn’t have to speak. She sneaked into the dimly lit suite and sprawled out on the couch, yet still felt so up. She could hear her mother breathing heavily. She wouldn’t dream of telling her that she snored. Her mother wouldn’t believe her anyway.
Poor Mother. The lady of the mink eyelashes. That was Val’s nickname for her. It was true; Anne Rhodes hadn’t been seen without her lashes for years. In fact, once, when they’d had a small fire at their home in England, she wouldn’t leave the premises until they were firmly in place. Yes, dear Mummy really was a character. When Val lit her last cigarette before sleep, she saw a note propped up next to the ashtray.
“Valerie, I have a wake-up call in for eleven o’clock. I’m just furious with you. If you mess up the audition tomorrow, I will never forgive you. We’ve come all this way, and I am not going to tolerate you ruining everything I’ve worked for!”
Val whispered to herself.
“Even in your sleep you have to have the last word. But you are forgetting one thing, Mummy dear. I’ve grown to like it here too! So dear, Mummy, you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to mess anything up.”
She lay there puffing away, languishing in the luxury of silence. Thank goodness Karen had insisted on giving her a few of those little green jobbies. “In case you have to get it together in the morning,” she’d said. So Val wasn’t worried in the least a
bout the day that lay ahead. She knew a greenie would make her feel just right.
The next afternoon Val took a greenie before her audition and felt more confident than usual. She’d had to sing a song for the producers. That was not her forte—she was a dancer. She managed to make them settle for God Save the Queen of all things. It was the only song she could think of off the top of her head that she knew all the lyrics to. She turned it into a brilliant performance, singing it first like Marlene Dietrich and then like Tammy Grimes. The producers loved what they considered “her original approach,” and hard to believe but true, that clinched her Broadway show.
The business end of things was left to her agents and managers. Val couldn’t have cared less. As long as it meant she could stay in New York, she was happy. Rehearsals weren’t going to start for three weeks, so she’d finally have some free time in the city that had stolen her heart.
After the audition went so well, Anne was sweet once more. She had found an apartment for them on the East Side in the fifties. The news that Val landed the show meant she could go ahead and sign the lease. Karen, who had become Val’s best friend and was welcomed as such by Val’s mother, joined them both for tea at the Palm Court to celebrate their wonderful news.
“This calls for champagne.”
“Thank you, my dear. That would be lovely.”
The bottle was opened and Karen made a splendid speech, finishing with a flourish.
“Here’s to a long run on Broadway for my wonderful new friend Val, and for you both a lifetime of happiness in your new home, New York City.”
“Thank you, dear. That was lovely. Now of course, the hard work really starts. The place needs quite a lot of redecorating.”
“How would it sound to you if Val stayed at my place while you’re dealing with decorators and painters.”
Val nearly choked on her champagne when she heard Karen’s suggestion….
“To tell you the truth, I think that’s a splendid idea. Somehow I don’t see my darling daughter being much help. I’m probably better off doing it alone.”
“Sorry, Mummy. You’re absolutely right I’m afraid. I’d be totally useless.”
“Well that settles that doesn’t it.”
When they’d finished the champagne, Val went up to their suite, packed a few things, and went to Karen’s that afternoon.
The first two weeks at Karen’s went by in a flash. It had been over a week since Val had spoken to Nicky. With the nightlife that ended at dawn, time passed quickly. She tried his number a couple of times, but had no luck. She glanced at the clock; it was 7 a.m. In bed but still wide awake, happy, high, and suddenly missing him desperately, she figured it was 4 a.m. his time and he would probably be home. Ring, ring, ring. Finally a man’s voice answered. He seemed very annoyed.
“Hello. Who is this? Do you know what time it is?”
“Hello, who are you? Is Nicky Venuti there? This is Valerie Rhodes calling.”
Muffled voices came over the miles. Then Nicky’s voice.
“Hi, Val.”
“Hello, Nicky. Just had to say I love you.”
“Good, but it’s four in the morning.”
“Sorry. Who answered the phone?”
“A friend of mine. He’s staying with me for a few days.”
“I miss you.”
“Where did you go? You checked out of the hotel and I didn’t know how to reach you.”
Of course he could have called her agent or manager.
“Sorry, darling. I’m staying with a friend till my mother gets the apartment ready. Oh I didn’t tell you—she finally found one, and if my wishes come true, she’ll take a year to furnish it.”
“What friend? I didn’t know you knew anyone in New York.”
“I didn’t, but now it seems I know a million people. My friend’s name is Karen van Dougall.”
Nicky nearly choked when he heard Karen’s name. Christ! How could that city be so small?
“Do you know her?”
“Yea, I know her. She’s pretty heavy company.”
“She’s fabulous. I just adore her.”
“Listen, I‘ve got some great news. That’s what I’ve been trying to reach you about. I’m coming to the city for some location shoots. I’m not sure of the date yet.”
“Nicky, that makes it all perfect. I’m sure Karen will let you stay here. There’s miles of room, and I’m going to show you a New York you won’t believe.”
“Okay, you’re on. See you.”
“Go back to sleep, love, and say hello to your friend for me. Tell him I hope to meet him when I get out to the coast.”
“The coast? You sound so American already.”
“I was always quick at catching on, or don’t you remember? If you don’t, I’ll remind you when you get here. Pleasant dreams.”
It was a nice hang up. For Val anyway.
She happily lit her final cigarette of the day. As she started to undress, she caught sight of her reflection in a full-length mirror. She liked what she saw, except for the slight bow in her legs. She had to laugh at herself when she immediately corrected this by standing in a different position. At least her mother would have approved. She’d pointed out all her faults since the day she was born, or so it seemed.
On the West Coast, Nicky put down the phone and nervously lit a cigarette. He glanced at the mirror above his dresser and saw the reflection of the boy sitting up in his bed, and by the look on his face he was ready to kill. Steve Prentiss was his name. He’d been a steady addition to Nicky’s life since before the film in Italy. Nicky had managed to make him still go along with his Val situation by promising it wouldn’t have to go on for much longer. When he saw Steve’s face, he knew he was about to blow his top. Nicky didn’t want a hassle. He had too much on his plate as it was. And now Karen van Dougall of all people. That was the last name he’d expected to hear. He made a quick dash for the bathroom, locking the door behind him. When he stepped into the shower, he hoped beyond hope that Steve would be gone by the time he came out.
CHAPTER 4
A Hit and a Miss
Three weeks at Karen’s had been an education. Val had learnt a whole new vocabulary since her exposure to the gay-straight-bi scene of New York City, and that described most of Karen’s friends, who were interesting, to say the least. There was always another invitation to another must-attend charity affair, gallery opening, or new club that couldn’t be missed. They got along extremely well. So many of Karen’s acquaintances where famous or infamous that Val felt at ease with them, accepted for herself rather than for who she was. Karen’s stash of pills and grass helped. She always seemed to have something on hand to make Val feel happier or sleep better.
Val’s picture still smiled from every newsstand in the city, and privately she still got a big kick out of it, yet she’d come to enjoy the feeling of being what she considered an ordinary person. The city helped; New Yorkers were used to walking down the street and seeing a famous face. Everyone had their own agenda and getting across town took most of their time and energy, seldom leaving them time to waste on something as trivial as another person.
When Val’s agent called and said she was booked on The Tonight Show, her usual nerves weren’t so apparent. Before she went to the taping, she took a greenie with a new yellow pill Karen had introduced her to: Valium. She loved the way she felt on that setup.
The show was taped live in the early evening. Joe went with her to work his magic. He watched her on the monitor in the Green Room. Her blonde hair framed her face, and when the camera went in for a close-up, her enormous eyes—accented with dark blue shadow and false eyelashes—were as blue as Paul Newman’s. Joe had chosen her wardrobe: a royal-blue, silk charmeuse, low-cut blouse with no bra; a black, suede hip-hugger miniskirt; royal-blue tights; and platform, ankle-strap shoes. She pulled it off, looking young, hip, and yet somehow sophisticated.
Her dry sense of humor came across immediately, especially when she described t
o the host, Johnny Carson, how different the English and American languages really were.
“I recently told a friend I was going to have a lay in. I honestly thought they knew I meant I was going to stay in bed. Well they didn’t.”
This got a big laugh.
“That wasn’t the worst of it. I then asked another friend to help me lay the table.”
She didn’t have to finish. The audience roared. Joe was sitting in the Green Room with the other celebrity guests who were waiting to go on. He sat listening as some really big names raved at the way she handled Johnny and the audience. They all agreed she had that special charisma that no one can learn or buy. “The camera loved her” was one cliché that in Val’s case was one hundred percent true. The show went off without a hitch with Johnny asking her to “please come back soon”—a line that most guests would have given their eyeteeth to hear him say.
As soon as Karen had heard Val was doing The Tonight Show, she’d planned a get-together at her place for the viewing. Whenever a party of any significance was thrown, the word on the New York grapevine traveled faster than the speed of light. Before you knew it, someone who knew someone invited someone who knew someone else, and at least two hundred of your nearest and dearest arrived at your door, ready to party.
The first arrivals that evening were designers accompanied by models wearing their latest creations. It was a spectacular fashion show. Afro’s had never been bigger, platforms had never been higher, pants had never been tighter, colors had never been more vivid. It was a feast for the eyes. The nonstop parade began: girls with boys, boys with boys, girls with girls, plus a few interesting loner types who wandered in and seemed happy to claim a corner and be voyeurs for the night. Some artists from the Village, still in there paint-spattered jeans, brought their rich patrons to taste a real New York City party. The onslaught didn’t stop.
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