When Stars Are Bright

by Amber R. Duell

  “I’m multi-talented,” he says with a wink. “Mainly I’m the piano man, but occasionally I fill in if a dancer or actor is sick. I was actually hired to do hard labor, moving props and things. When they found out I could read music and knew how to play, I got promoted.” He briefly wiggles his fingers in the air between us like they’re touching keys, then folds his hands on his lap and clearly his throat. “So, is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  Nik looks down at his lap and chews his lip before clarifying. “You’re a… that you can sing.”

  I press further into the wall and watch his face. “I enjoy singing, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m a great talent. It’s just something I do for myself when I’m alone.”

  Nik checks the door over his shoulder. “Walter wouldn’t have gone through all this to get you here if you weren’t a— good. If you weren’t good.”

  “Who knows what he would’ve done?” I swallow another spoonful and it hits my stomach like a brick. “Is he really gone?”

  Nik inclines his head. “They left within the hour and aren’t allowed back.”

  I exhale slowly. One nightmare down, one to go. I barely remember what normal feels like but it feels within reach. I can stop worrying if Walter will hurt me or what he has planned next.

  “Jackie says you’re Dutch.”

  I hold my hand to my mouth as saliva builds along with my nausea. “Yes. Where are you from? Not here?”

  “Nowhere. Everywhere. My family never stayed in one place long.” He inhales, letting it out slowly through his nose. “Listen—”

  A sharp knock stops him from saying more. Augustine shuffles into the room, her cane clacks against the loose hardwood floor.

  “Good, you’re awake,” she chirps.

  Nik jumps to his feet and holds the chair out for her to sit down. “For a few minutes now.”

  “Perfect timing.” She falls into the seat with a grunt. “Wait outside.”

  Nik gives me a final look before stepping into the hall and closing me in with Augustine. All semblance of inner peace goes with him.

  “Let’s start again.” Her smile is stiff. “I’m Madam Augustine.”

  “Lina Holt,” I mutter.

  “It looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle, Lina Holt. We both are.”

  The orange scent from her room clings to her. It’s not as overpowering as the source but a cold sweat breaks out on my skin at the memory. I focus on my bowl. Looking at her makes me more nervous. She sees too much, and she already has the upper hand. I need her help, that much is obvious, but I don’t want her to see how desperate I am for it. I’ll lose all power to negotiate if she knows.

  “Irena and her horrible son are gone,” she continues. “You’re welcome to recover here.”

  Recover. That gives me a day, maybe two, and then what am I supposed to do? She already made it clear she doesn’t want me to go to the police. “I have nowhere else to go,” I admit. If I run off on my own, without money, I could end up in worse trouble. Jackie and Nik both said she might help me so it’s worth a try. “But, I wanted to talk to you about getting home.”

  “You look like a sweet girl,” she says.

  That’s never a good start.

  “So small.”

  Insults. The best way to win friends.

  “But, the world has gone to pot. I don’t have funds to spare to get you passage.”

  It was worth a try, but the disappointment still stings. “I understand.”

  She holds her hand up to stop me. “Is it true? Can you carry a tune? And I mean really carry it, not flounder about like a fish out of water.”

  I gape at her. Never have I met anyone so blunt. “I’ve been told I can.” It’s all I can think to say.

  “Many terrible singers have been told they can sing.” She leans on her cane. “Would you mind letting me hear a small sample?”

  I glare at the door behind her, wishing Nik would come back and save me. “Right now?”

  “It’s important I hear for myself before we continue this conversation.”

  “Why?” She already said she couldn’t help me. What else was there to say? “I’m not interested in staying on.”

  She exhales sharply. “Humor an old woman, won’t you?”

  Willingly sing in front of someone? A stranger? My body shudders. Even if I want to, I’m not sure I’m feeling up to it. My throat is dry and scratchy, and I’m still weak but maybe if I sound horrible, we can put all this nonsense behind us. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise it’ll be any good.”

  She waves her hand dismissively. “Go ahead. Something snappy.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something I might regret later. Augustine may be pushy but I’m not in a position to make enemies, so I start singing the same song Walter heard in the barn. At first, my voice is tight and my diaphragm aches when I tighten it. I close my eyes against the discomfort, concentrating on the lyrics, and let my body take over.

  I picture Christian pulling me away from the beam. Our kiss against his car. The way his eyes shone when I agreed to go to the garden party. His playful grin when he hinted we’d be engaged soon. It’s easy to pretend I’m singing for him instead of a crabby old woman. If I ever see him again, I won’t be afraid to let him hear me.

  “Enough.”

  Suddenly I’m back in the small room wearing Jackie’s itchy dress. “Sorry. I was a bit off.”

  “A bit off?” She laughs, her face morphing into something much friendlier. “If that’s you a bit off then I dare say you’ll be a star.”

  I blush. My life goals don’t include a stage. “Thank you,” I mumble. “But I—”

  “Here’s the thing. This whole situation is difficult. On top of your little scandalous affair, firing Irena left me without a singer for the show next week.”

  I try not to assume what she’s hinting at because it can’t possibly be what it sounds like. “I’m sorry. I hope you’re able to replace her, but I didn’t have any part of Walter’s scheme.”

  “You have no money for a ticket home, and I have none to spare. Hopefully we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Stay on with Nova Troupe while we’re in New York. I won’t have to scramble to replace Irena, giving me time to find someone suitable. You’ll be kept safe while you’re here and can earn money to pay your way home.”

  I pause. The thought of earning money never crossed my mind, let alone a way to make it. That takes time and I’ve been gone too long already. Even if he hates me now, Christian will send enough to get me home if I can get him a message. That could still take days though. If I say no to Augustine, what will my next option be? To live on the streets? This could very well be the best offer I get. At least it will keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach.

  “I’d like to make a phone call,” I say cautiously. “So my family knows I’m safe.”

  “There’s no phone here, but the theater has one. You can ask the manager when we go for rehearsals,” she says.

  I press my lips together at the mention of practice. I haven’t agreed yet. I should. Why aren’t I jumping at the chance? It’s not forever. I can force myself to sing in front of an audience if it means getting back to the people I love.

  “I’d like to send a letter, then.” It won’t be an instant connection, but I can’t wait another day to send word to them. As long as something’s on the way, I’ll feel better.

  Augustine fiddles with the curved head of her cane. “I’ll have stationary brought to your room after lunch.”

  I bite the inside of my lip and clutch the thin quilt to keep myself from clawing my skin again. “Okay then.”

  “Splendid.” She beams. “I’ll start planning your act. Naturally, our patron will want some input on the matter.” She surveys my head. “How do you feel about cutting your hair?”

  My mother likes my hair long. I like it long.
It doesn’t matter what’s in fashion—short hair makes me look ten years old. “No.”

  She grunts and pats the blankets over my legs as if I were a petulant child. “Rest up.”

  When she bustles out of the room, she leaves the door wide open. Nik leans against the opposite wall. Augustine smacks his chest with the back of her hand, laughing. “A Symric!” she cackles. My breath catches at the joke about Walter’s fairy nonsense. “I have to tell John.” Her laugh continues until a door opens at the end of the hall.

  At the sound of it slamming shut, Nik lifts his chin to meets my gaze. His eyes are dull and haunted.

  “Welcome to Vaudeville?” I ask with a quiver in my voice.

  He pales.

  “I kept the broth down,” I say.

  “Good.” He steps forward and grabs my door handle. “That’s… good.”

  A sense of dread tugs at my gut. I know Christian will help as soon as I talk to him. It won’t be long until I’m able to bury my face in his chest and feel the safety of his arms around me. I have to believe he’ll accept my apology. I have to. But, for now, I won’t cry. I’ll stay strong for him, and my mother. There will be plenty of time to breakdown when I’m home.

  “Does that mean I can try something for dinner?” I ask.

  Nik looks away, nods, and shuts the door without another word.

  “Knock, knock.” Nik’s voice floats through the door.

  I straighten, letting the heavy curtain fall back over the window. It’s been an hour since I first looked outside, watching people move about their town. Women hold their children’s hand as they walk down the street and dogs wander about yards. A few older vehicles passed by in the morning but it’s been mostly bicycles since. The other houses I see from my window are like this one—beneath the need for repair lay the bones of impressive homes—and the yellow house directly across the street has at least four families living under its sagging roof.

  “More broth?” I call back. The dinner Nik promised me the night I woke up had been more of the same. A huge disappointment but for the best. Yesterday I graduated to crackers and cheese.

  “Something better.”

  It’s not hard to beat a bowl of flavored water, but I admit to feeling stronger now. Hopeful, even if the normal, everyday things outside put a cloud of jealousy over my head. Augustine took my letter to Christian, though, promising it would go out with the first post. My mother is too proud to ask for help, but Christian isn’t spiteful. He’ll let my mother know I’m okay even though I broke things off. It’s a small weight off my shoulders—a pebble chinked away from the boulder.

  I swing open the door. “Please tell me you’ve found some kerrieschotel in the kitchen.”

  “I have no idea what that is, but I do have these.” He wags his eyebrows, holding up a white rectangular box in each hand. Three smaller ones, wrapped in brown paper are tucked under his arms. “Can I come in?”

  I step aside, glaring at the boxes. “What’s all this?”

  “It’s a surprise, Canary.” He sets them down carefully on the bed and steps back to stare at them with me.

  The bright glint is back in his expression and a little tension fades away knowing he’s not upset anymore. Asking the cause of his sullen mood isn’t worth risking its return, and I need a friend here if I’m going to keep my sanity. Jackie hasn’t checked in on me all weekend so he might be all I have.

  I keep staring at the boxes as if they contain unknown horrors. “I’m not much for surprises.”

  Nik crosses his arms, and I catch a whiff of his slightly spicy musk. “Who doesn’t like surprises?”

  I watch him shift his weight from the corner of my eye. Sometimes surprises are honest and good. Other times they come with strings or implications hidden behind shock value. If I have to guess which kind of surprise this is, I bet on the latter.

  “Who’s it from?” I ask, ignoring his question.

  He shrugs. “Augustine, I assume. Jackie did all the shopping. I’ve never seen her so excited to go into the city before.”

  I glare at the boxes again, wanting to tell him to take it all back. Unfortunately, that would be rude, and I need Augustine. There has to be a hundred other girls able to replace Irena, but they’ll have to wait until I’m gone. I need this. At least until Christian comes through. The voice in the back of my head needs to stop screaming at me and get on board with the plan—even if it does make a valid argument against trusting these people.

  “Augustine didn’t have money to get me a ticket home, but she had money to send Jackie shopping?” I ask.

  Nik cringes. “Like I said...”

  “Complicated.” I can barely see through my anger. It feels like my body will explode into bits if I don’t find a way to release it.

  “Go ahead,” he urges. “The anticipation’s killing me.”

  “You’re too excited about this,” I seethe.

  “I have a feeling it might make you feel better and if anyone needs it, it’s you.” He reaches for the first box. “Allow me.”

  Folded neatly beneath tissue paper are two dresses. The first a deep blue cotton with tiny red rose buds. The v-neck is trimmed with white ruffles that reach to the hip on one side, on the other is a square pocket, and the same trim accents the sleeves. The second is a light pink day dress covered with tiny white polka dots. A matching piece of fabric is tied around the waist in a bow. Beneath them, edges of silky white undergarments are visible. I quickly pull the dresses back over them before Nik can see.

  “Clothes?” I say flatly. My teeth clamp down on the inside of my cheek until it hurts. “Why did she buy these?”

  “We tried to salvage your dress but it was too far gone, and you can’t keep wearing that.” Nik picks at the shoulder of the borrowed dress hanging limply from my body. “If you’re going to be here for awhile, you’ll need something to wear.”

  But that was the dress Christian gave me. I dig nails into my palm. “Where is it? My dress.”

  He has the good sense to appear regretful as he informs me, “Thrown away. I tried to save it for you, but it was too late.”

  Thrown away. My heart sinks. All I feel now is sorrow, heavy and foreboding. It’s only fitting, I suppose, since I threw Christian away before Walter took me, but I want my dress back. I want Christian back too, but that dress… it’s the last piece of home here.

  “Canary?”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “I won’t be here for awhile, and I can’t afford this.” I can’t afford anything.

  He meets my gaze for a brief moment before looking away. “I don’t think she expects you to pay for it.”

  “How... kind of her,” I say carefully.

  “I wouldn’t say it’s purely selfless,” he admits. “She’ll want you to be presentable as part of the troupe. Appearances and all.”

  “A temporary part of the troupe.” I chew on my lip. “So, it’s like an investment, then.” Maybe I should’ve asked Christian for a bit more than fare in my letter. I drag the second box to the edge of the bed, dreading what I’ll find inside. “And this?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure.” He pops his thumbs joints inside his fists. “It’s probably your performance dress.”

  “This is what I’ll wear to sing?” I glare down at the box with a flutter in my stomach. I almost forgot the stage is in my near future.

  “I’ve got news about that, too.”

  I take a deep breath and hold it. “I’m not sure which I’m more afraid of.”

  He cocks his head, and I flip open the lid. Bright white lace stares back at me. I lift it out by the shoulders and give it a shake. It reaches the floor with small silk roses above frilled sleeves. It’s stunning, but it won’t be on me.

  “I can’t wear this.”

  Nik takes the dress carefully, studying it. A silk under layer peeks through the lace. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “I’ll look like a child playing in her mother’s clothes.”

  N
ik laughs and lays the gown carefully on the bed. “You’ll look great. And you’ll sound great, especially working with me.”

  “What?” I can’t peel my gaze away from the gown.

  “I’ll be your pianist. We start rehearsing tomorrow for the show on Friday so I hope you’re a fast learner.”

  “Tomorrow?” A cool sweat springs up on my forehead. I’m not ready. I can’t be prepared for a live performance in a handful of days. It takes time to build courage, and I’ve barely registered the situation. Will I even be able to practice in front of Nik? What was I thinking agreeing to this?

  “Breathe, Canary.” He takes my upper arms gently and waits until I’m looking him in the eye. “Don’t worry. We’re in this together, yeah?”

  No! No one is in anything with me. They all belong here. They want to get up on stage and entertain people. None of them know what it’s like to be here by force, but I hold back for fear of hurting Nik’s feelings. He’s been nothing but nice, even if he mislead me at first. I take a deliberate breath to show him I’m listening.

  “Better?” he asks.

  “No.”Maybe a little.

  He rubs at his chin. “Let’s forget about all this for a little while and do something fun. We both need it.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I ask. Maybe burying my troubles will help—whether or not it’s possible is another thing.

  He bops me on the nose. “Get changed and meet me in the hall.”

  Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I have to be miserable. Right? There’s no point moping around until Christian comes through. What will that solve? Nothing, and I need to get out of this room before I go stir-crazy. I hurry out of Jackie’s green dress and fold it on the chair to return to her later. My skin drinks in the air, finally free of the scratchy wool.

  The blue dress is feather-light in comparison. It fits perfectly, the hem hitting mid-calf. I’ve never worn such smooth stockings in all my life. Pulling the twine off the first smaller box, I tear through the brown paper and find a pair of tan heels with laces crossing up the front. Inside the second is a white cloche hat with satin trim and a pair of matching gloves. I push it aside and peek into the third brown box—cosmetics. Still paler than usual from my whole ordeal, I spare a few seconds to put a splash of color on my cheeks.