“Bud. The show must go on.”
“How much longer are you here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Al, don’t bullshit me. You know exactly.”
“Three weeks or a month. I need to get back to my life. This was my vacation. I go on vacation and get run through with a sword. Christ.” They both laughed at this.
When the laughter had died down, Bud asked the inevitable question. “What are you gonna do about Edith. You two are really great with each other. The best.”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to see anyone else. She doesn’t want to see anyone else. I think I might ask her if she wants to come to California with me. If she wants to stay here, I’ll ask her if she wants to do the long-distance thing.”
“The long-distance thing? Does that come with some kind of commitment?” If Bud’s eyebrows got any higher, they would have flown off his forehead.
Al reached in his pocket and fumbled around. He pulled out a small box. “I got her a trinket. It’s a promise ring. Is that too high school?”
Bud held his hand out and took a look at it. It was a one-carat black diamond, GIA-certified on a platinum band. “Jesus, Al, I’d promise myself to you for that. What is it?”
Al told him then said simply, “I love her.”
“Tell her. Give her that. I just want an invite to the wedding.”
“If it ever happens, Bud, you can even be a groomsman.”
“Deal. I’m happy for you.”
“OK. I’m the big man on campus now, so I gotta scoot. I’ll be back plenty once we open. Things are just gonna get busy fast.”
82
It was opening night. Al was in a tux, and Edith was in a beautiful black gown with an open back and the front connected to a round collar-like neck. It was amazingly attractive. “We need to get to the theatre a little early. I contracted a local artist to paint something on the wall of the theatre lobby. It’s my last night as Artistic Director, so I thought I’d flex my A.D. muscles a little. Come on. Smed is waiting for us.”
They were on the ride over, and Edith said suddenly. “I want to have a serious talk with you later. It’s not necessarily bad, but we need to have it. I think you know that. So, after you open. Before and during, it’s all about you. I never knew theatre people worked so hard, getting stabbed notwithstanding.”
“I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”
“Are you kidding? I’m like the only girl I know whose boyfriend has been stabbed with a sword and lived to tell the tale. I should get some street cred for that, man.”
“I think if you mention that you slit the guy’s Achilles tendons with an eleven-inch Bowie knife, you’ll have all the street cred you need.” He leaned over and kissed her.
They pulled up at the theatre and Smed came around to let them out. Al even allowed himself to be helped from the back of the car. He had a fifty for Smed tonight. “Thanks for the ride, Smed. Little something extra for you. You are appreciated. Happy opening.”
“Please break a leg, Mr. Al. Have a wonderful night, Miss Edith.” He tipped his cap and went to the driver’s side of the limo. He drove silently into the night.
“Please be honest and tell me if it’s too much. It’s in the lobby.”
“What is it?”
“Come see.”
They walked into the lobby and he pointed to a large wall that had, up until this morning, been blank. Now it read:
This is a safe space.
Please feel free to be yourself. We welcome you as you are. No one here will be turned away because they are not good enough. We all hold what is best and worst in heaven and on earth. You are important and you are valued.
In memoriam of those we lost.
“Well?”
“It’s beautiful, Al. You hit the nail on the head. If people had just acted that way with Bannerman, things would have been different.”
“Bannerman was damaged. He would have had problems, no matter what. He just got pushed too hard at the wrong time. It does make you wonder what would have happened if he would have found family here instead of…what he found. You OK out here for a moment or two? I want to go wish everyone good show and all that.”
“Take your time, but I do look pretty hot, so I wouldn’t take too long.”
“I hear you.” He kissed her then headed up in the elevator.
Frieda was frantically doing last-minute business at the desk in the office. Al came in. “Office is closed, lady. Bar is open. Go snag Edith from the lobby and get yourselves a drink. I think we’re gonna kill at the bar tonight.” They were, in fact, sold out, which meant the bar would be jumping.
“You probably should have asked me about painting the lobby, but I love it, so you’re off the hook. Scotty Mac left this morning. You’re right; he is quite a guy.”
“I figured you thought so. Your business meeting lasted five days.” It had lasted five and a half days. He’d spent some time debriefing Scotty Mac, but after 5:00pm every night Scotty Mac and Frieda were conspicuously absent. Frieda seemed quite a bit more relaxed in the last few days, as well. To top it all off, he’d told Scotty Mac about Edith, and he’d met her. He told him about the ring and his intention, and all Scotty Mac said was, “Mazel tov!”
He went around to all the actors and backstage folks wishing legs to be broken and reminding everyone to have fun. It was a good show, they just didn’t know it yet. He finished with Sunny. She was all in black and in SM mode. He had to physically stop her as she went zipping along. “Hey, lady.”
“Oh! Hey, Al. Just up in my head.”
“I wanted you to know that you’ve done a great job with everything. I’m in your debt.” He took her hand. “You will always have a home at the Majestic. If anyone says no to that, they’ll have me to answer to. Break a leg, honey.”
Much to his surprise, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “You’ve made my life better, Al. I feel like you helped me become a better person. Thank you.”
“The pleasure has been mine entirely.”
Al left her there and made his way to the rapidly filling bar. He got a thumbs up from Lisa behind the bar. She was slinging drinks at a pace that should have been illegal. The bar was going to be a smash hit. She’d also executed a physical transformation to the space. It felt like an old Chicago neighborhood bar. It was perfect.
He finally found Edith and Free. They were finishing their drinks. The lights blinked on and off. “Shall we go find our seats?
Frieda laughed. “I think I can show you where they are.”
They found their seats and waited with bated breath for the curtain to rise. Finally, the lights dimmed, a safety announcement came on, the lights came up, and three shrouded figures were capering in the moonlight:
When shall we three meet again? It had started. They were off to the races.
83
The crowds had all filed away. Congratulations were flung about. A bunch of people were going to a local watering hole. Al and Edith were repeatedly invited and assured they were “awesome,” “the bomb,” and all manner of other things.
Al saw Frieda. “You gonna lock up, Free?”
“I got it. You kids toddle along. Great job, Al. That was the best thing we’ve done in a long time. At least one reviewer was here, and he was laughing at intermission. I think we’re in good shape.”
“Thank you, Frieda. For everything, I thank you. I’ll be here Monday to help Marty into the transition. He seems like a different guy. I think things will work well for you here.”
“How much longer are you hanging out?”
“A few more weeks. I’m not done here yet.” He looked at Edith when he said this. She blushed and looked down.
“OK, get out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Al and Edith walked out. He took off his tux jacket and put it around her shoulders. “Can we walk toward the water a bit?” He asked. She simply nodded and walked beside him.
&nb
sp; After a few minutes she stopped and turned to him. “I need to know, Al. I need to know what happens now.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I have a couple of options from my end, but I’m open to anything. If you tell me to get lost…well that would totally bum me out, but short of that…”
“Yeah?”
“You ever been to California?”
“I’ve been to Southern California. LA. I hated it.”
“Northern California is pretty great. And the north coast, Oregon and Washington, are amazing. I know you still have some school to finish, but we have schools in California, and I have a dog who would love to meet you. I think you’d like my folks. Shit. I’m babbling. You wanna come out?”
“You mean visit, come out for a length of time, or live with you?”
Al reached in his pocket and pulled out the platinum band with the black diamond on it. He took her left hand and held the ring hovering over her left ring finger tip like some gesture of spiritual coitus. “This may seem old fashioned, but this is a promise ring. I thought it might be a little too early for an engagement ring. I just know I don’t want to be with anyone but you. If you don’t want to come live in California, come visit. I’ll visit you. If we can survive long distance, we can survive being together. I love you. I’m open to anything you want. Just say the word.
She reached up with her right hand, grabbed his wrist, and slowly made the ring descend on her left finger completing a spiritual, physical, and ritualistic circle echoed by the band of platinum. “Promise. I promise. I’m yours as long as you want me, Al. I want to finish up here. School. I’m done in December of next year. I’ll have summer school, but that keeps me on track for my goals. After that, I’m OK with moving out to find a law school in California.”
“Wanna come meet my parents?”
“When?”
“If we leave in two weeks instead of three, it’s your spring break. We can flip around for a week.”
“I have until Wednesday of the following week because of some weird school thing they’re doing. So a week and a half? I’m in.”
“My mom is going to be so happy. I told her about you and she hasn’t stopped asking. Just remember, I fell off a platform and onto a piece of steel that was propped up just off stage. My mom does not need to know I’ve been sword fighting.”
“You wanna go to the bar with everyone?”
“No.” said Al. “You?”
“I’d like to go home, make love, and then fall asleep in your arms. Does that work for you?”
“Fits me like a glove. I still have my hotel room. I’d like to stroll a little. Let’s sleep there, then we can do morning coffee at your place.”
“Sounds yummy.”
So they walked arm in arm. Al’s mind was drifting to the people who had died because they were careless and crass. All the violence and pain. His mind settled on Gill. He’d come around at the end. He chose his path, but deep down, his authentic self was good. A good man who got on a bad path. He could relate. He left Chicago and the people here once. He was going to do it again, except this time, he’d miss some of them--many of them.
They turned into the Double Tree, and he let the memories settle in his mind and heart. While they waited for the elevator, Edith pulled his face toward his and kissed away the few reluctant tears that had escaped while he was thinking about times and people past. He took solace in Edith’s arms, and she in his. They’d been connected from the very beginning of all of this, and they were together now. It made sense and it felt like home. That was good enough for now.
84
The show’s run went well. They got two stellar reviews, and by the time Marty returned, they were alive and crackin’. The new financial arrangements were working wonderfully. The theatre was actually gathering together a “prudent financial reserve” in case they produced a flop, which happened from time to time in all theatres.
Al had picked Marty up after his spin-dry. He had decided to skip the full rehab and instead start going to see a counselor twice a week.
“I’ve always had issues, Al. You know that. I just hid behind too much work. If you work every day, all day, then go home, have two martinis and pop a couple pills, you never have to think about your problems.”
“I’ll give you a while before I slap you around about the Bannerman thing--if I ever do. I think you’re carrying enough guilt over that for everyone who isn’t here anymore. I’ll leave it at this: we all do shit in our lives that is unacceptable to our own sense of right and wrong. It isn’t how guilty you get, or how badly you beat yourself up. It’s all about how you redeem yourself and get back into the light.”
Al had picked him up in the Boxster. He thought they’d take in a little Lakefront Drive, then go back to his little apartment. Marty surprised him by asking, “Is that why you do what you do, Al? Are you trying to get back into the light?”
Al didn’t answer for a long time. Just after Marty had given up thinking he would get an answer, Al said, “Short answer or long answer?”
Marty considered, then said, “Well, Alistair, we have the whole lakeshore; how about the long answer?”
“I see something going wrong with life and I have to make it right. Not all the time, but when it is discordant with what my insides scream is good and right for the people involved I care about.”
“Do you always work for people you care about?”
“No. That’s the struggle. That’s my darkness. Sometimes I do things to settle scores, level playing fields, bend or mend rules. It sometimes takes me to dark places. Then I have to fight to get back into the light. I can never seem to find the ‘sweet spot’ in life. I’m always over-shooting one way or another.”
Marty was quiet again for a little while then said, “What was the short answer?”
“Yes.” Said Al as he turned to Marty and gave him a sad smile. Mart put his hand on Al’s for a short second. It wasn’t sexual. It was just a small gesture of support from two people from the theatre tribe.
Al found a parking spot in front of Marty’s place. It was a thirty-minute zone and open. Al pulled in, thinking he’d just spent about a year of parking karma on snagging the spot. Marty started to get out, and Al stopped him.
“A little news for you. You might not like it, but it’s how it is. Frieda and I, with the help of a lawyer, reworked the operating structure. I alluded that it would happen on one of my visits with you. We did it without you. Sorry, but tough shit and all that. Also, if you start using, Frieda has the power to send you on temporary or permanent vacation. I don’t know if you are an alcoholic. Not my call. You can have a drink or two if that’s your thing. If it gets out of control, your ass is gonna be flapping in the wind, and Uncle Al won’t be here to bail you out again. That was a one-shot deal. Can you handle that?”
“Yes, Al. I may not like all of it. I really hate change, but something had to give, and I forced the situation. I accept that. I imagine I’ll be talking about that in therapy. Can we go up?”
“I’ll go up with you.”
Al and Marty went into his apartment. Edith and Al had come in and cleaned the place up some, then Al had hired a service to come and deep-clean the place. The fridge was stocked with healthy food. The bar and medicine cabinet were empty. “I’ll see you at the theatre, OK?”
Marty extended his hand, and Al shook it. “This is going to sound limp, but thank you, Al. Thank the gods you came out, but thanks for all you did once you got here. You literally saved my ass.”
“Prove it was worth the trouble, that’s all I ask.” And Al left.
Al had welcomed Bud home from the hospital. He was wearing a back brace and walking with two of those crutches that wrap around your forearms.
“You still have me on speed-dial, right?” Al asked. They were enjoying a pork shoulder that Al had cooked in their kitchen for Bud’s welcome home meal. He made cream gravy, rice, and steamed asparagus with tomato Hollandaise sauce.
“Yes sir,
and I intend to use it. Probably often.”
“Good. Just know I gave it to Betsy, so if you get out of control, I’ll know and can come kick your ass.”
They had made good on the promise to get Betsy to the theatre. She had taken a girlfriend from her new part-time job. She loved it, and Al arranged season tickets for the two of them in perpetuity. As long as they wanted, they had free tickets. Saying goodbye to the three of them was hard, but Al would keep in touch and vice-versa.
Frieda told Al she was going to stay at the Double Tree for another twelve months on her new salary, then go buy a swanky small place that was all hers. “I’ve lived in a hotel so long, I really don’t need a lot of room, but adults with good jobs generally don’t live in hotels.”
“No. Living in hotels is not for up-and-coming professionals. You’re gonna be great at this. What am I talking about? You are already great at it. A word of advice?”
“Shoot.”
“Now that you have a secretary and reasonably normal hours, get a degree in theatre management. They’ll probably waive a bunch of your classes. You said you had taken all your general education classes, so it would just be classes in the major. They might even count your work here toward units. They’ll probably have you student-teach or make you take kids for work study. Whatever. It’ll come in handy in ten years. Trust me. You’re not destined to stay here forever. You’ll end up somewhere a little bigger with a far larger salary and much more visibility. Who knows? You might even teach someday. Lecture over.”
She felt like this was probably their last private chat before he left. She walked around her desk to him. He stood. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. She pushed her body firmly against her. He could feel her body pressing and yielding, but it wasn’t overtly sexual. It was just an absolutely sincere hug. She broke away from him and said, “Al, I don’t believe I’ve ever said this to a guy I like, respect, and find attractive, but I’m glad we didn’t sleep together. You and E are perfect together.”
“Me, too. No regrets. Ever.”
Hog Butcher: 2nd Edition Page 45