Short

by Holly Goldberg Sloan

  Gianni turns to me and says, “Let’s start with Baby.”

  Now here is the really weird thing: I don’t get mad that he calls me Baby. I like it. I say, “Baby is ready!”

  Olive smiles.

  Shawn Barr then glances up from the picnic table and calls out: “Baby is ready!” I can see that they are all sharing looks, and somehow I know that I’m always going to be Baby to them now.

  Gianni holds the seat belts and points for me to step into two areas. He’s looking at Shawn Barr as he says, “We’ll need to make allowances for the weight of her costume, and then once we have the suspension angle we can discuss deceleration and choreography. I’m guessing she weighs less than one-quarter of maximum load.”

  I have no idea what Gianni is talking about, but it’s really professional.

  After I’ve got my legs through the belts, Gianni pulls another strap and that attaches to a clamp I can’t see between my shoulder blades. Two more of the belts go under my armpits. They also hook in the back.

  Gianni says, “How’s it feel, Baby?”

  I don’t know if I should tell the truth, which is that I feel like a fly trapped in a spiderweb. Even though I can move my arms and legs, I’m all wrapped up.

  I just smile big and say, “Baby feels great!”

  Gianni turns his attention to Olive, and she gets clipped into her own tangle of straps. Gianni sounds different when he talks to Olive. I can hear it in his voice. “These harnesses will have more padding once we’re able to set your size.”

  Olive nods. Her whole face is happy, most especially her eyes.

  I’m thinking that if we weren’t both so small we wouldn’t have this amazing chance to be in the play. And also we wouldn’t be working with Gianni, and from the look on Olive’s face, that’s really amazing too.

  After we are all clipped into what Gianni calls our single-point harnesses, the other two guys come over and they attach wires to the hooks that we each now have on our backs.

  Shawn Barr has his head on his pillow, and he gets a thought that makes his face wrinkle up. “Baby’s a minor. Did her parents sign a release?”

  Charisse starts to look through papers on her clipboard.

  I shout, “I brought back all of the forms the first day. My mom printed them out and she signed everything.”

  This seems to be enough.

  I’m thinking that because Shawn fell off the ladder, he’s more worried about an accident. But Gianni leans close and he says, “Don’t worry, little ladies, you are in good hands. I supervised the backstage crew of Peter Pan in San Francisco for a three-month run.”

  I smile. I can’t imagine why people would run for three months, especially dressed up like Peter Pan. But if he was in charge of that group, he has to have skills.

  Next Gianni, with just one hand, lifts me up by the hook on my back. All the straps tighten, and I have to fight my natural instinct to scream WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

  I also have to keep from shouting WOW! YOU ARE STRONG!

  I send my arms out wide like airplane wings, and I tilt my body left, then right.

  It goes over great.

  Shawn Barr is propped up on an elbow, and he says, “Baby was born to fly.”

  Gianni then clips a wire to the hook, and I watch as the other two guys step forward. They both have on gloves, and they are holding the other end of the wire, which loops into something up high that I can’t see.

  Gianni says, “There are counterweights up above, Baby. It’s the catwalk where the technical stuff happens.”

  I wonder if they call it a catwalk because the first time they made it a cat ran across, or maybe because you have to be as good at climbing as a cat to go up there.

  I decide not to ask. I know there are no stupid questions, but this feels like a bad time to get into the exact meaning of new theater vocabulary.

  Right overhead the man in the cat’s area does something, and I hear his voice:

  “Line set. Single purchase.”

  The two guys on the stage look up. One of them says, “Hold.”

  Gianni nods and says, “I’m not going to set a tag line. It’s just a raise.”

  The two guys understand. Olive is watching, and I see she’s not blinking, which means she doesn’t want to miss any of the action.

  Gianni’s voice is calm in my ear. “Baby, I’m releasing.” He then says, “Ready for trust.”

  I can feel his hand let go of the hook, but I stay suspended in the air, and then I rise up a few more feet. It’s not exactly flying. It feels more like dangling, and for a second I see myself as a fish. Somebody put a worm on a hook, and I swallowed the whole thing. But I’m not being pulled through water toward a man in a boat with a wooden club: I’m swaying in the air.

  I keep my arms wide, and then I shout down, “I’m a flying monkey!”

  Shawn Barr shouts back at me, “Baby, the monkeys don’t speak!”

  I surprise myself and yell back, “This one does!”

  I’ve got a view of everyone below me, and they are laughing. I realize that this is the first time I’ve seen the world this way.

  Everyone is looking up at me.

  Grandma Mittens says that life is all about learning lessons, and that if you aren’t properly taught the first time, the next test on the same subject will be harder.

  I’m learning a big lesson right now, which is that the same thing can be rotten one day and then amazing the next.

  Here I was worried that I’d have to dance, and instead, I’m learning to fly.

  Of course I won’t be able to do this around my neighborhood, but I feel like I’ll probably dream forever about being suspended by wires and moving in the air.

  I’m not going to need anything for my scrapbook to remember today.

  After Olive and I have both been lifted up in the harnesses a few different ways, everyone has an idea of how this will all work. We don’t show fear or throw up or do anything unprofessional when we are doing the fly work.

  I have no idea how long it all takes, because I’m so excited about what’s happening it makes the clock inside my head stop. But at some point, Shawn Barr says, “Let’s wrap it up for the day! We’ve kept the girls too long.”

  Olive and I are lowered to the floor of the stage, and I think they all agree we’ve had a good first flying monkey rehearsal.

  We take off the gear, and Gianni says that we looked very comfortable with “wire work.” Next we get the news that we will be going to the night rehearsals, which are separate from the Munchkins. I have to tell my mother I will need to stay later than Randy.

  I’m two years older than him and can handle this extra stuff.

  I can’t wait to let Piper and Kaylee know, even though so far I haven’t sent one letter to Piper at camp and Kaylee is still on her baseball stadium tour.

  Once Gianni stops talking, Olive whispers to me, “We can now put this on our résumé. It’s pretty impressive.”

  I nod, but I don’t have a résumé.

  When I do get a résumé it will go in my scrapbook. Maybe I’ll glue Olive’s in there too. And the man and woman who work up in the catwalk. We’ve been told they are named Flynn and Toby. The names Flynn and Toby sound like dogs. I already like both of them.

  Before we are excused, Gianni uses a measuring tape to figure out how long my back and legs are. It’s the first time I notice that Olive has pretty short arms and legs. We are exactly the same height, but my arms and legs are longer than the ones she has. Then I realize this is what makes her look different. It’s not just that she’s four feet nine inches. I guess I could see this before, but now it’s been pointed out by the facts of the measuring tape. I miss a lot of obvious things.

  Gianni writes down everything he needs, and then he says, “Thank you, ladies. That was a great first day.”


  I answer, “Thank you, Gianni. We feel safe in your hands.”

  This makes everyone laugh, but I was being serious and also I was trying to sound adult.

  I don’t tell them the truth, which is: That was super-exciting but also super-scary, and the rig is not what I would call comfortable. Plus, I wish someone had asked if I needed to use the bathroom before you put me in the air.

  FIFTEEN

  Olive and I turn to go, and Shawn Barr calls us over. He’s tired because it’s hard work directing a play when you’re lying down.

  He says, “Baby, we have a costume designer for the show. He’s no Adrian Greenberg, but he can work a sewing machine.”

  I smile because I’m really liking the name Baby.

  He continues, “The lady who made your shoes and your flowerpot hat, what’s her story?”

  I don’t answer right away, because this is a complicated question. Also, I don’t know her story. I settle on, “She lives down the street from me.”

  Shawn Barr shuts his eyes and I guess organizes his thoughts. He opens them and says, “I’m thinking maybe your friend could help out. There’s a budget for costumes, and we might have some money for a specialist. The flying monkeys could be her start.”

  I have no idea what Mrs. Chang would say about this. I think she’s right now working on the rest of my Munchkin costume. Would this make her happy? How do I know?

  I say, “Maybe Olive could go with me and ask her.”

  Shawn Barr likes this, because he says, “Yes, in person might be better than over the phone. And in my current condition it would be hard for me to pay her a visit. I deputize Olive.”

  Olive stays quiet.

  I follow her eyes. She’s still watching Gianni. He has gone up a ladder and he’s doing something with the wires. I think he’s very talented.

  I say, “It would be great if Olive and Gianni went to see my neighbor. If Mrs. Chang wants to help, she’ll need to know what to do with the hook in the back of the monkey costumes, and he’s the flying expert.”

  Olive nods in a big way. “Yes, that’s a smart idea, Julia.”

  Shawn Barr shrugs. “He’s on payroll. Sure. He can go.”

  I can see that Olive is happy.

  I seal the deal with, “I’ll call Mrs. Chang and set it up.”

  The truth is that I’ll have my mom do that. I’m just a kid. There’s too much information for me to write down.

  I then add, “I’ll get back to you with the plan, Shawn Barr. You can count on me.”

  Our director smiles. He doesn’t do this very often, and it changes his whole face. It makes his eyes shine. I wish he smiled all the time, because this is a great look for him.

  I feel like this is my moment to ask the question that’s been pushing down on me. I say, “Is it too much for me to be the lead dancer and also a flying monkey? Maybe someone else should get that dancing assignment . . .” My voice trails off into nothing.

  Shawn Barr shakes his head. It’s not a yes or a no. He says, “Your job is to lead by example. Nothing more. Just show the other kids how it’s done.”

  My voice is still pretty low. “Okay. But I don’t think I’m the best person with my feet.”

  Shawn Barr laughs now. “You’re all in, Julia. That’s what matters.”

  He lifts his big notebook and adds, “From time to time you can look over my notes. You might get some insider knowledge. How about that?”

  Gianni comes down from the ladder, and I can see that he’s listening. He raises an eyebrow. “Baby, you got nothing to worry about.”

  Shawn Barr then gives me a wink and says, “Agreed. You’re a helluva kid.”

  No one has ever said that about me before, and it feels great. Now I wish my little brother was still in the theater, because then he could report back to my whole family about this conversation. But he’s outside. Probably singing.

  I want to let Shawn Barr know that he has made the right choice putting so much trust in me, and so I say, “You are the first person who really takes my mind off of Ramon.”

  As soon as I say this it feels like a big mistake. I hope he doesn’t ask about Ramon, because I think I might still cry if I had to talk about him to people who never met him.

  But I’m very lucky today because Shawn Barr only nods, and the next thing I know the two stagehands are carrying him away on the picnic table. They move things. I wonder if they signed up for moving the director? I guess if you are a “stagehand” you’ve got to move whatever is there.

  Olive waves good-bye to Gianni.

  I do the same thing.

  We turn and start for the back door, and Olive then asks, “Who is Ramon?”

  I should have figured she’d be paying attention.

  I answer, “He was my dog. He died on May fourteenth.” I then add, “I’m glad that he didn’t die on February fourteenth or I’d never in my life have a good Valentine’s Day.”

  “Valentine’s Day is overrated,” Olive says.

  I’m not sure what she means, but I say, “Yeah, totally.”

  Outside, my mom is in the car waiting.

  The look on her face says that she’s been there awhile.

  Randy is in the front seat, which isn’t right, but I’m so happy about being a flying monkey I don’t even scowl. I turn and give Olive a hug. I say, “I’ll work on setting up a time for us to take Gianni to see Mrs. Chang.”

  Olive nods. “Call me with the plan.” She then heads off down the sidewalk. It’s possible she’s skipping, which would be sort of strange considering she’s an adult, but she’s the size of a kid, so that probably gives her extra freedoms.

  The first thing I do once she’s gone is move Randy out of the front seat and take my spot next to Mom.

  I then explain about the flying monkeys and the fact that I have to go to night rehearsals. I’m disappointed when all my mom says is, “Is that safe? I don’t know how I feel about you being suspended by wires.”

  “Of course it’s safe!” I say. “Gianni was running Peter Pans in San Francisco and he’s here because he’s an expert.”

  From the backseat Randy says, “Who’s Gianni?”

  I answer, “He’s the flying guy. He put me and Olive in single-point harnesses.”

  Randy nods like he knows what that means. I was in a single-point harness and even I don’t know what it means.

  Mom then says, “You’d think they’d want to talk to a parent about something like this. I can see using your friend—”

  I interrupt her, which is not polite. “Olive. Her name is Olive.”

  Mom continues, “I can understand using Olive because she’s an adult. You’re a child.”

  I don’t like the way that sounds, but I need Mom to understand how much this means to me. I try to keep my voice from getting all high and whiney, which happens when I’m upset.

  I say, “It’s totally safe and they asked if you’d signed the paperwork and you did do that and we turned it in the first day.”

  Mom’s not giving up. “I didn’t know that the release meant they could fling my kid around in the air.”

  Randy pipes up, “Is that what they did?”

  “No. That’s not what happened. There are three people on the ground and two in what’s called the cat’s area and Gianni was holding me along with the wire! Shawn Barr was directing the whole thing and he’s a super professional from Pigeon Forge.”

  I must sound convincing, because Mom seems to calm down.

  She exhales long and slow, and then says, “Okay. I guess I didn’t understand. You like it? It’s what you want to do?”

  “It’s ALL I want to do. Forever and ever.”

  I’m not sure why I added the last part.

  I’m not the kind of person who thinks very much about my future. I know I wouldn’t want to be lifted
up and down in that harness for the rest of my life, but if it meant hanging out with Olive and Shawn Barr and now Gianni, well then, maybe I’d consider a career hanging on wires.

  What I like is having people call me Baby, but in a sweet way. I like having a special part.

  Then it’s like a lightbulb goes off, and I remember that Mrs. Vancil was always talking to us about our potential. I look over at my mom and I try to sound as determined as I can manage. “I feel that being part of this show, especially playing two different roles and learning how to do wire work and fly, is helping me reach my true potential.”

  You can tell by the crack of the bat, which in this case is my mom sucking in a mouthful of air: It’s a home run!

  Mom puts on the brake and there isn’t even a stop sign or a red light. We sort of experience a mild whiplash. She looks over, and I see something in her eyes that makes me realize maybe she’s been worried about me. I see a kind of relief in her stare.

  She says, “All right then, Julia. You’re a flying monkey.”

  I make a fist and pump the air. Score!

  I’m so happy. I shout, “YES! I am a flying monkey!”

  In the backseat, Randy leans forward and says in a very matter-of-fact way, “And I’m Mayor of the Munchkin City.”

  SIXTEEN

  Dinner starts with Mom announcing to the table that I’m learning to fly.

  It’s the first time my older brother, Tim, has joined in for a common topic in what feels like years, but is probably only a few weeks. He’s actually interested in how I will move around in the air.

  His first question is, “Does it hurt your crotch to wear the harness?”

  I shake my head, even though the truth is that the inside of my legs and my armpits are sort of sore from the straps.

  I hate the word “crotch.”

  There are a whole bunch of words I can’t stand, and I’m not sure if it’s the sound of the word or the meaning. An example of this is that I hate the word “puberty.” It’s just not a fun word in any way.

  I also don’t like the word “mucus.”

  I avoid saying these words, and what’s good is that there are many ways to get a point across, which I guess is why language is important. Maybe it’s why language was even invented.