Shooting Stars 01 Cinnamon

by V. C. Andrews

  Then the spotlight went out. "What the..."

  There was just enough light from the aisle lamps for me to make my way back to them and for us to find our way to the exit doors. When we looked for Madame Senetsky, we saw no one.

  "I don't understand," Mommy said. "Where is she? What are we supposed to do now?"

  Miss Hamilton shook her head.

  "I don't know any more than you do. I'm sorry."

  "This is a ridiculous way to treat people. Who does she think she is?" Mommy cried. "Hello! Anyone here?"

  We waited a moment and then Mammy said. "Let's get out of here." We stepped out in the bright sunlight, all of us squinting.

  "You were wonderful. Cinnamon," Mommy said. "If that woman had any insight, she would see it."

  "Yes. you did great," Miss Hamilton said, "I'll call Edmond."

  "Don't bother to waste your time and money," Mommy said. "She must be some kind of a nut or sadist. Let's have some lunch." she added. "and enjoy the rest of the day."

  We did enjoy it. In the restaurant Mommy did an imitation of Madame Senetsky sitting in the rear of the theater. She seized her hair and pulled it up so tightly, her eyelids stretched. Miss Hamilton and I laughed. I knew the both of them were trying to make me feel better and I appreciated their efforts and pretended not to be bothered.

  But I had left that theater feeling so exposed, so embarrassed. It was as if a doctor had asked me to undress and then left me naked in the examination room.

  On the way home. Mommy and I decided we wouldn't tell Grandmother Beverly anything. If we did, she would just gloat and chant how right she was about such schools and why it was a great waste of time and money. We told Daddy I performed well and we'd see. but I had no hope. He wasn't feeling much better and went to sleep early that evening.

  The next day Miss Hamilton called to tell me she had phoned Edmond Senetsky and he had told her that was the way his mother conducted her auditions. She didn't have the patience for small talk and she didn't see the point of conversation before or after the audition. The audition was all that mattered to her. As to my chances, he repeated his admonition that there were dozens of candidates parading past her this week. She had seen six the day I was there. In fact.

  Early the following week. I completed my application to NYU and to some state schools the guidance counselor had recommended for me. I was busy studying for tests. Acting began to drift back toward that place reserved for fantasies and dreams in my mind. Every day I entered her class. Miss Hamilton's eves widened a bit in anticipation, but one look at my face told her I had no news, and soon she stopped anticipating any.

  In the end Grandmother Beverly was probably right. I told myself. Just because she said everything in a hard, cold manner didn't mean it wasn't couched in truth. The thing is it was harder to accept reality when someone like Grandmother Beverly, unhappy with reality herself, presented it to you or forced it on you. What did she dream about now? I wondered. When she laid her head upon her pillow and closed her eyes, what helped her sleep? What were her secret wishes and hopes? Or was her head always full of warnings and skepticism, turmoil spiraling forever behind her closed eyelids?

  "Pity her," Mommy kept telling me now. It was as though her bout with her own demon and trouble had made her a far more compassionate person, full of little mercies instead of little terrors. In my heart of hearts. I thought she might even pity Daddy if she knew what I knew.

  She still suspected something. He was more distant with every passing day. I feared the coming of his confessions and what it would bring down on this fragile house and family.

  And then the letter came, the letter that would force so much truth upon us we would nearly drown. Mommy was waiting for me in the Eying room with it when I came home from school. She called to me and she held it out. unopened.

  "It's come," she said.

  "Why didn't you open it?" I asked taking it from her.

  "It's yours, honey, yours to open."

  I tore the envelope and pulled out the papers.

  The letter was so dripping with presumption and arrogance that I was sure it had either been written or directly dictated by Madame Senetsky herself.

  Dear Ms Carlson:

  You are to report to the Senetsky School of Performing Arts on July 7 at 10 A.M.

  All tuition costs must be paid at that time.

  Below is a list of required clothing and attached is a list of rules to follow while you are residing at the school. Any violation of any rule, no matter how small or insignificant it might appear, will result in expulsion and the forfeiture of tuition paid.

  The contract is included and must be signed and returned by a parent or legal guardian within twoworking days of receipt of this letter.

  Yours truly,

  Madame Senetsky I handed it to Mommy and she read it quickly, burst into laughter and then stopped abruptly and considered.

  "I don't know if she's a madwoman or what. She treats us like nothing and then accepts you."

  "What should I do?"

  "Well, you'll go, of course. It's what you wanted, isn't it?" I shook my head.

  "I don't know. I'm so confused."

  "Of course you'll go, honey. This is a great opportunity."

  I went right to the phone and called Miss Hamilton, She was so happy, she started to cry. I told Mommy and she cried, too. All of us were crying and it was supposed to be a happy, wonderful moment.

  A few minutes later, we heard the front door open and stepped out to get Daddy.

  "What's up?" he asked. Mormny handed him the letter.

  Daddy's expression as he read the letter and immediately afterward told me he was not only not expecting it, he was hoping it would never come. His low-keyed. "This is nice." took Mommy by surprise. too.

  "Nice?" she countered. "Nice is all you can say?"

  He glanced at me and then forced a smile.

  "Well. I mean it's nice to have options, to be wanted in many places."

  "Options? This isn't the stock market. Taylor. It's your daughter's future," Mommy snapped.

  He nodded. I never saw him look this uncomfortable, not even in the mental clinic.

  "I know that. I'm referring to all the choices she can have. It takes some thinking. You want to be sure you make the right decisions for yourself. Cinnamon," he told me. "Let's review it all, consider everything. That's all I'm saying," he told Mommy.

  She smirked and stepped back.

  "You've been listening to your mother too much. Taylor."

  "Well, she's not all wrong. I bet if you looked into it. Cinnamon, you'd discover that most successful actors nowadays started at something else first. It's a very difficult, challenging thing and you might be better off attending a regular state university or something and getting a well-rounded education. While you did that, there would be nothing to stop you from going out for the plays and building experiences. right? Then, if you were still inclined to pursue it, you could audition again' ," he said as if it was as simple as fastening a seat belt.

  Mommy shook her head,

  "Why are you saying these things now, Taylor? Why didn't you say them when Miss Hamilton told us about the performing arts school? Why didn't you say them before we took her to the audition? Why didn't you say them all these days that have gone by since?"

  Daddy looked pained.

  "From what you told me about it. I have to admit. I never expected this," he said holding up the letter.

  Mommy plucked it from his fingers.

  "You should have had more faith," she said and turned away from him. "I'm getting dinner together. Your mother hasn't come back from the dentist yet."

  "Oh? I thought she had a four o'clock appointment. She should have been back by now."

  "Maybe she's shopping for a new bedroom set for us," Mommy muttered and walked off.

  I stared at Daddy. His shoulders sagged, there were heavier bags under his eyes and he looked tired and pale. I didn't want to feel sorry for him. but
I couldn't help it. He glanced at me and saw something different in my eyes. It made him look twice.

  "I'm sorry if I upset you with my suggestions, Cinnamon. And it's not something Grandmother put into my head. It's only meant to be sensible.'

  He started up the stairs, lifting his legs as if each weighed as much as his whole body. I saw him take a deep breath at the top and then continue toward his bedroom. I turned to go to the kitchen to help Mommy with dinner, but just as I did. I heard a loud thump from above. For a moment. I just stood there. listening. Then Mammy came back into the hallway. "What was that?" she asked.

  I shook my head and lunged for the stairway. When I reached the top. I saw my father on the floor, lying on his side. His right leg twitched as he struggled to get up.

  "Daddy!" I screamed and ran to him. Seconds later. Mommy was at my side.

  His eyelids fluttered.

  "What is it. Taylor? What happened?" Mammy asked him.

  "Got dizzy." he said. He tried to rise again and Grimaced, "Pain," he said touching his chest.

  "Don't move. Taylor. Don't try to get up. I'm calling for help. Stay with him. Cinnamon," Mommy told me and hurried to the phone in their bedroom.

  I lowered Daddy's head gently to my lap. His lips looked blue, but he kept his eves on me and forced a smile.

  "It's all right," he said so low I could barely hear him."I'll be all right."

  I could barely see him through the glaze of tears on my eyes. "Listen," he said. He beckoned me closer.

  I leaned as far as I could.

  "I'm sorry about all I said. I'm proud of you, proud they want you. It was the cost, but we'll find a way." he promised. He closed his eyes.

  "The paramedics are on their way," Mommy cried coming from the bedroom. "How is he?"

  "I don't know," I said. She knelt beside him.

  "Taylor. I'm here. I'm with you." she said grabbing his hand and holding it with both of hers. She wiped strands of hair from his forehead. His eyelids fluttered and then opened.

  "Sorry," he said.

  I couldn't help but wonder what his apology included.

  Epilogue

  Daddy didn't die, but he was diagnosed with a heart problem serious enough to require a pacemaker. Grandmother Beverly blamed his condition on Mommy, of course. She didn't come right out and say it, but she dropped her hints around the house like rat poison.

  "It's no surprise," she remarked when the diagnosis was made. "Not with all he's had on his mind these days."

  "Any man who carried his burdens would have dropped dead long ago."

  "He was always a healthy man, but ever since I moved in here. I've seen him dwindling, eaten away."

  Finally, one night before Daddy came home. Mommy was the one who dropped her fork on the plate and turned to Grandmother Beverly with critical eyes after she made another one of these remarks.

  "Beverly," she said. I knew something hard was going to follow because she rarely called her Beverly. "I think you should seriously consider moving out of here, finding your own little place."

  "What? You can't be serious," Grandmother Beverly said smiling. "Why, you need me more than ever around here now."

  "I need you less than ever," Mommy retorted. "We need our own lives, without any interference and certainly without any static. You don't like this house and you are not happy living here. Because you're not happy, you do everything to make everyone else miserable.

  "Maybe if you're living somewhere more to your liking, you'll be more satisfied. We'll have you for dinner often, of course, and you can visit whenever you like,"

  Grandmother Beverly nodded.

  "I should go. I really should teach you a lesson and leave."

  "Please, teach me," Mommy replied softly.

  Grandmother Beverly looked at me and I looked down.

  "Very well. I'll take one of those garden apartments where Mrs. Sakslives."

  "Good choice," Mommy said and picked up her fork without skipping a beat.

  "Taylor will be upset," Grandmother warned.

  "Well, we'll tell him it's what you wanted, won't we?" Mommy asked her with a smile. "That way, we won't risk his being too upset, okay, Beverly? I know that's what you want too.-'

  Grandmother Beverly pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. "He married you against my wishes; he should suffer the consequences of his actions."

  "We all do. Beverly," Mommy said. "We all suffer the consequences of our actions in the end."

  I held my breath,

  Grandmother Beverly rose, looked at us, and went to her room.

  Two days later, she was moved out of the house, and a day after that. Daddy came home.

  Despite all that had happened and all the commotion and tension. Mammy had remembered to sign and send in the letter of acceptance to Madame Senetsky. I was surprised when she told me.

  I was worried, too. because Daddy had revealed the financial burden was his main concern. Madame Senetskys school was twice as expensive as a private college and there would be other associated expenses as well.

  One afternoon, almost a week after Daddy was home. I came home from school and saw he was sitting on a chaise longue out back, getting some sun. Mommy was still at the supermarket. I wandered out and sat across from him. He looked like he was sleeping, but he opened his eyes immediately.

  "Hey," he said.

  "Hey."

  "How's it going? School's coming to an end."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Graduation is always an exciting time," he said. He stared ahead for a moment and then he looked at me. "I've got to tell you something, Cinnamon, When I was being taken into the operating room for the pacemaker. I had one great fear.'"

  "What, Daddy?"

  "That I would die without telling you something, something I had to tell and something I couldn't tell your mother. I was afraid of what it might do to her. I'm still afraid."

  I held my breath.

  "I did something wrong a while back and I had to work my way out of it, I'm ashamed of it. but I realize you're old enough to know that your father's not perfect. No one's perfect. When you're young, you can believe the people you love are perfect and that's fine. It makes the world seem safer, but you're about to go out into the real world, the competitive cold world and you'd better know it's not a walk in the sun."

  "I know it isn't, Daddy."

  "Yes, I think you're a much smarter, more mature young lady than most your age, and I've got to credit your mother for that. She's done a great job with you while I had my face buried in stocks and bonds."

  He paused, looked away and then spoke softly.

  "Some time ago, I used a client's investment money to speculate on a stock I was sure would have a very big return. It would have, if something hadn't come up that caused the Food and Drug

  Administration to call back the company's product. I lost most of the money and I had to confront the client and tell her."

  "Her?"

  "Yes. She's a wealthy woman, a widow. The reaction she had and what she wanted was quite unexpected. I was prepared to borrow on life insurance policies, the house, everything and anything, but she knew she had me in a box. What I did would cause me to lose my license and be thrown out on the street."

  "What did she want. Daddy?"

  "She wanted me to pretend... to pretend she was someone I admired... loved," he said. "She had a fantasy and I had to be part of it for a while. Finally, I was able to restore her funds and break loose of her hold on me." He shook his head. "Crazy thing is, she wasn't upset. She was satisfied and has gone on to another fantasy. She even still invests with my firm."

  "Why did you tell me this. Daddy?"

  "When I was faced with the possible end of my life. I felt I had to get it off my conscience. The other day when Grandmother Beverly visited me, she told me about an accusation you had made and that got me thinking. Why did you tell her that. Cinnamon?"

  Now it was my turn to look away. He waited. Tears were building
under my lids.

  "One day I cut school..."

  "Yes. I remember that."

  "And Clarence Baron and I went to the city to spy on you. I thought you were trying to get another job or that you were in some financial trouble."

  "I was."

  "But that's not what I thought it was," I said. "I followed you to a coffee shop and saw you kiss a woman on the lips."

  "Ah," he said. "You're not going to believe it. but I had the feeling I was being watched. Your mother's and your spirits," he muttered. "This house..." he said looking up. "So that was it."

  "Yes, Daddy."

  "Well, I'm glad we had this talk," he said. "I hate secrets between me and the people I love. I can only imagine how terrible you must have felt and how angry, but you couldn't have hated me more than I hated myself."

  "I never hated you. Daddy," I said. "But I was angry."

  "Sure. You should have been. I would have been. too. I say I hate secrets. but I don't see any good in telling your mother about this."

  "That's up to you. Daddy, you and Mommy."

  He nodded and smiled.

  "You are very mature and very perceptive. I'm glad you're going to that school. Cinnamon."

  "What about the cost?"

  "Well," he said. "I had a good talk with your Grandmother Beverly and she agreed to free up your trust."

  "She did?"

  "Yes," he said laughing. "Your mother was right about her. She's happier living somewhere else, anywhere else but in this house," he said.

  "Do you hate our house?"

  "Hate it?" He thought a moment. "No. I used to be afraid of it, afraid those spirits of yours would get me. Maybe they did. I deserved it if they did. But, the place kind of grows on you," he said.

  He rose.

  "I'd better go in. Your mother will be home any moment and I want to help her."

  "I'll be there. too.-

  "Naw, don't worry. We can handle it." he said. He stood there looking at me.

  And I ran into his arms and we held each other for a long, precious moment.

  "I love you, baby," he said. "And you make me proud, very, very proud."

  He kissed my forehead and walked into the house.

  I sucked in my breath and started for the hill. When I got there. I looked at the tombstones and then I rushed forward and pulled the stick out of the ground. I dug like a mad dog until I found my charm necklace, the one Daddy had given me. I brushed it off and put it back on quickly.