The Calling
Page 13
“Nathan, I heard you sing ‘The Impossible Dream.’ Your voice is amazing. You sang it better than our lead ever did. Nathan, please, show them.”
Matt spoke up, “Let’s hear you, Nathan. Come on up. People, let him through.”
I grudgingly stood and started to make my way onto the stage. All the while, Isabella is applauding me. “Isabella, why are you doing this?”
“To save this production and all of our asses!” Laughter broke out from a few of the cast members. Matt started applauding as well. Slowly the whole cast joined in.
I am standing there in the center of the stage and sweating buckets. Facing Mr. Shadowman in a pitched battle is preferable to facing this crowd. Looking out at this audience I saw they are not from my imagination; they are all too real!
“Just like you sang it when no one watched,” Isabella encouraged.
I did it exactly as before. I held the memory of seeing Richard Kiley perform this song. I added my own beliefs about what the lyrics mean to me. I didn’t try to sing the song. I let the song use my voice as its medium. When I finished, the whole cast was quiet. Do I hear crickets? After a long breath of a moment, everyone started cheering. My God. They liked my performance. Miracles do happen. First, Isabella stood next Theresa, followed closely by Matt. One by one, the whole cast stood. I was dumbfounded. I haven’t received this much applause since I used the big boy potty for the first time. My face feels hot. The spotlight must be giving me a sunburn. The cast started climbing up onto the stage, and I was soon overwhelmed by hand-shakers, cheek-kissers, and back-patters.
Once the crowd died down, Matt came up to me and asked, “Can you, and are you willing to do it?”
“What the Hell? I can’t be any worse than your last lead.”
Matt chimed in with, “I don’t know. You could freeze on stage. The house is sold out, and they expect to be entertained. The paying public can be harsh. Theater people tend to be supportive of each other, as long as they aren’t up for the same part. Well, we’ll see. What we couldn’t sell, we gave away. We need butts in the seats if we are to have any chance of going out on a high note. Come with me to the office. We have paperwork to do. I don’t suppose you have an agent?” I shook my head. “If you sing tonight just as well, you’ll receive a stack of business cards from a bunch of agents. I’ve invited a number of them along with several critics to tonight’s performance.”
We completed the paperwork quickly. I examined the pay schedule for the lead and considering it will be “one and done,” it will be the most I have been paid for one night’s work except for that time in Las Vegas. But as they say, “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
As Matt filed away the paperwork, he said, “There are a ton of things to do to be ready for tonight’s performance. Your costume will need to be fitted, for one. Luckily you are close to the same size as the rat who abandoned this sinking ship. After that, I’ll go over the blocking with you. Next, we will do a rehearsal of the whole enchilada.”
“I’ll have mine without guacamole.” Matt gave me a quizzical look. “Avocados, I hate them. In fact, I don’t care for Mexican food in general.”
“Nathan, how can you live in San Diego and say that?”
I expounded to Matt, “The taste buds want what the taste buds want.”
Matt chuckled a bit and said, “Oh, you’re going to fit in just fine. Theater people tend to be a little strange and unusual, and you have those qualities in abundance.” I nodded my agreement. “Keep your phone on you. If I need you, I’ll text you. Speed and accuracy will be our catchphrase for the day.” Matt clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “This is going to be a blast.”
I added, “Yes, it will. It will be like one of those old Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland movies where they save the day by putting on a show.”
“Okay, enough chit chat. Head down and see Theresa. She will do what is necessary for your costumes to fit properly. When you're done with that, text me, and I’ll meet you on stage to give you the blocking. Off with you.”
I wasted no time getting to Theresa in a smallish room with a sewing machine, a dressmaker’s mannequin, and bolts of fabrics in the show’s colors. “Nathan, I was beginning to worry. I don’t have a lot of time to make the changes to the costume. Well, let me see what I have to work with.” She had me stand still while she took my measurements. It is all business-like. “Okay, I think I have some trousers that will fit.” She left the room for a second and came right back. “Here. Try these.” I started to leave for the restroom to change, when Theresa piped up with, “No time to waste. Try them on in here.” I hesitated. Theresa asked, “Are you shy? Here I’ll turn my back.”
She did turn around, and I did as well. Dropping-trou, I changed into the costume pants. I pulled up, zipped, and fastened the trousers. I turned back around only to see Theresa watching me with the help of a mirror I had failed to notice. Her gaze met my eyes. I felt my sunburn returning. “You peeked!”
She smiled, “You caught me. Sorry. Nice butt, though. Too bad you’re wearing a wedding ring. I might have enjoyed a little feverish groping in the costume closet,” Theresa looks as if she is waiting for me to say something. After a brief moment, she said, “I’m all done with you here. Your costume will be ready before the curtain goes up.”
“Thanks, Theresa.” I started to turn to leave when Theresa spoke up.”
“Nathan, you love your wife, don’t you?”
“Very much so.”
“You weren’t even tempted to convince me your marriage didn’t matter?”
I smiled at her, “Oh, I am a little tempted. It has been quite some time since a pretty young woman has left me so blatantly an opening. I like it when a woman tells me what she wants. I am so clueless when it comes to what that is. It is a pleasant change of pace when I don’t have to guess.”
Theresa laughed a bit, “Your wife is a lucky woman. You’re the first married man who has failed to take me up on the offer.”
“So, it was a test of sorts. You didn’t mean it. Well, my ego stings a bit.”
“No, it wasn’t a test. I enjoy an occasional heavy petting and kissing session. In a traveling group, as we are, it is difficult to form relationships outside of cast members, so satisfying drives and urges is about all one can do.”
My phone alerted me to a text message. “Matt is waiting for me on stage, so I need to make haste,” I told Theresa. “This has been an enlightening conversation.”
Rushing to the stage, I found not only was Matt there but the whole cast. They showed me all my marks and cues. Everyone was very helpful. Good vibes were raining down on everyone, and there was electricity in the air.
Once we finished, Matt spoke to the cast, “Okay, thanks, everyone. Great job! Let’s break for lunch. Be back here in an hour, and we will have a dress rehearsal.” The whole cast broke up into small groups and headed off the stage. I headed to the janitor’s closet to break out my lunch; it was nothing fancy: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some graham crackers, and an apple. As I dined on my repast, Isabella stood at the threshold and knocked on the open door. Looking up at her smiling face, I motioned for her to enter. In her hands was a clear plastic to-go container with a salad in it. She opened a folding chair and took a seat. “What brings you here?” I asked.
“I thought you might like some company for lunch. I also wanted to make sure we are good. I broke my promise and put you on the spot.” She opened her salad and started eating.
Quickly swallowing the bite of sandwich in my mouth, “We are fine. I’m afraid my filling the lead is giving everyone false hope. I am pretty nervous, and my acting skills are untried.”
It is Isabella’s turn to swallow fast before talking. “You’ll do fine. Everyone is excited. It is like opening night all over again. I guess in a way it is.”
After finishing a bite of my apple, I asked, “What are you going to do about your cursed Barbie? The more I think about it, the more I don’t like it.
Sure, it’s helping you now, but there is always a price. There is no free lunch in this world.” I motioned with my eyes to her wrapped hand.
Isabella tried to hide her hand under her salad. She bent her head down and said, “In my heart, I know you are right. It shocked me to see it attack someone else. I never thought it would hurt anyone.”
“I’m a big boy, and I have faced worse in my life.” The briefest of memories flashed in my mind. The memory of Da’von, in the shell of Mark Galos, throwing me across my living room and into my entertainment center.
“Nathan, are you okay? You grimaced.”
“Yes, I am fine. Thank you for your concern.” I must deal with Da’von. How long do I have? I still don’t know what to do.
We finished our lunch and tossed the waste in the trash. It was pleasant to eat lunch with a friendly face. We stood to head to the stage, but as Isabella turned, I grabbed her hand and pulled the wrapping away from it. My stomach turned as I saw her wounds. Her hand was covered with lesions too numerous to count. Each cut was inflamed and weeping purplish pus. “Look what that thing is doing to you.” Isabella refused to look at her hand. “Can you even use it?”
She shook her head. “Nathan, please, can we go to rehearsal?” She took her other hand and tried to pull me along.
“No. I can’t stand by and let it eat you alive.”
“Why do you care what it does to me?”
“Why shouldn’t I care? There are a great many things I care about but can’t change. This I can. I am not unfamiliar with otherworldly things. I will dispose of it.”
“Nathan, there is no time. We have to go to rehearsal.” I hated to admit it, but she’s right. Other people are depending on us. I nodded my head and followed her to the stage.
As everyone took their places, Theresa came up to me. “Here, let me do your make-up for you. Stand still.” She firmly applied some grease paint foundation and set it with powder. Next, she started doing something to my cheeks and eyes with a sponge. I began to feel like one of the doll heads students use in Beauty School. Before too long, she finished. She showed me a hand mirror. “What do you think?” In the mirror, I gazed upon my reflection. My complexion now had a pallor. My cheeks and eyes looked sunk-in. It all gave me a gaunt look. “Remember, you put on the beard and eyebrows on stage. Place them on like it is something you have done a thousand times before.”
I didn’t have the will to explain to her about my memory. I intoned, “Yes, dear,” in the dull monotone of a beaten man.
She lightly slapped my arm. “Don’t be that way.” Theresa gently rubbed my arm where she had slapped. “It’s only a rehearsal but break a leg.” I always wondered the origin of that phrase. As I was about to ask, Matt walked through the backstage area commanding everyone take their place. I took mine.
After the orchestra finished the overture, we started in earnest. It is amazing. I may even be able to pull this off tonight. Everything went smoothly. It is as if we had all been doing this together for months. The curtain closed. We are done. Isabella grabbed my hand with her uninjured one and guided me to the side of the stage. When the music stopped, she pushed me out onto the stage. “Go to the center and take a bow.” The overture started up again as I walked out.
It felt awkward. We didn’t block this part. I managed to make it to center stage without tripping. Voices from the cast told me to bow, so I did. After another bow, Isabella came on stage and took a bow. She clasped my hand, and we bowed together. The curtain opened up. Isabella pulled me to the side, and each player stepped forward and took a bow while the music continued. Next, she goaded me to walk out to center stage again. The man who played the innkeeper took Isabella’s other hand. I heard a brief and almost imperceptible cry. The woman who plays Antonia, Don Quixote’s niece, took my free hand. Isabella started to bow again, and the whole cast followed. I finally got a clue if not a little late. Isabella pretending to kiss my cheek whispered I should motion to the orchestra, which I did. We all took a few steps back, and the curtain closed. A cheer went up from the cast. There was a round of congratulations. My endorphins raged through me, and my ego was about to bust.
The music stopped. The curtains opened. The house lights came on. Matt began shouting, “People, people settle down. I have some notes for everybody. Take seats.” Everyone started leaving the stage and took up seats in the auditorium. When I took my seat, Isabella and Theresa flanked me on each side. “Well, people, this is the time I tell you where you could improve and what to work on.” The general murmur of excitement stopped cold. “But I can’t. You all were spot-on.” Another cheer rose up. After a couple of moments, Mike raised his hands to quiet the cast. “And what about our Don Quixote?” An even louder cheer went up. “I dare say, Nathan, if you had been our lead all along, we would have had sell-out crowds all over this country. We might have even been able to revive it on Broadway!” More cheers. “The curtain goes up for real at 7:30 sharp. Be back in time to give our next audience the show of their lives!”
Everyone started filing out with all those who passed close to me, giving a few words of encouragement. Sitting there taking it all in, I noticed both Isabella and Theresa staying in their seat. Each one, in turn, started giving the other the eye.
“Theresa, you can do the final fitting of Nathan’s costume later. I need to talk to my leading man.” After the stare-down, Theresa stood and walked the other way out of the auditorium mumbling some choice words. She spoke them under her breath, but clear enough for Isabella to hear. I guess the pecking order wins out in any conflict in the theater. I’ve never been a big enough pecker to pull that kind of power play.
“Nathan, you were amazing out there, and we really clicked.” She paused for a moment then said in a serious tone, “I know you mean well, but I need my little lucky charm. I don’t know why it attacked you, but it has never hurt anyone else but me. Please leave it be. We have this one performance tonight then I will be rid of it. I promise.”
“It goes against my better judgment but alright. I don’t like it. That thing is hurting you, so this one night then I will get rid of it. Deal?”
“Deal.” Isabella pretended to spit in her hand then offered to shake. I pretended to spit in my hand. We shook hands. Isabella left.
I looked at my cell phone for the time. I crossed referenced the bus schedule with the time in my mind. I had enough time to return home, tell the family, and grab a bite before heading back. I texted Charlene I am heading home with a surprise. She replied with, “No flowers please.”
After another boring bus ride, I heard my daughter running towards the front door, all the while yelling, “Daddy’s home. Daddy’s home.” When she rounded the corner and saw me, she busted-up laughing. She turned around, still laughing and ran back the way she came. She began yelling, “Mommy, come see Daddy.”
“Okay, Moiraine, what so funny?” My wife said this as she walked into the room. She looked up to me and started laughing too. “Oh, Nathan, what are you doing?”
“I came home to see my family and grab a quick bite to eat before I head back to work. What’s so funny?”
“Well, Nathan, you are covered in make-up. It looks pretty funny.” Char said, snickering as the words came out. “Is this your surprise? You started to wear make-up?”
“No wonder everyone was giving me such weird looks on the bus.” Moving to glimpse myself in the hall mirror. “Oh my! I forgot to remove it before I headed home,” laughing too. I can remember everything, but if I don’t take a moment to remember, I’m as clueless as anyone else. Mo came back into the room, and the instant she saw me, she started laughing anew. Trying to regain a shred of dignity, I announced, “I am the new lead of Man of La Mancha for this one last performance.”
“Nathan, you’re pulling our legs. This is one of your strange ideas for what passes as a joke.”
“I’m a little hurt.”
“Oh my, Nathan. I’m sorry, but you have to admit this sounds like one of your jokes.
”
“That may be, but it is the truth. They are paying me and everything,” I said with a touch of mocking in my voice. “Say, Char, can you fix me some eggs? Nothing fancy. I don’t want to go on stage with an empty stomach.”
“Okay, Nathan, on two conditions. First, refill the salt cellar for me. The salt is on the top shelf, and I didn’t want to get the stepladder out. Second, wash your face.”
“Alright, I should have time to reapply the make-up before curtain up. I’ll need to take the car. The bus doesn’t run that late.” After washing my face, I retrieved the salt from the top shelf while Char was fixing all of us breakfast for dinner. The salt had fused into a solid block, so to refill the cellar I had to break it up. A simple problem easily solved.
Our breakfast for dinner consisted of simple scrambled eggs, toast, and a medley of berries with yogurt. After dinner, I began watching the clock closely. I knew it is going to be a photo finish to get to the theater in time. “I need to go, ladies,” I announced as I stood by the front door.”
The heartwarming sound of Moiraine running to me filled the house. “Huggies, kissies, kissies, huggies.” Scooping her up, I obliged her to my heart’s content.
Charlene came walking up behind Mo. After I put Mo back down, Char leaned in and kissed my cheek. I miss her lips. Char said, “I’m glad this performance is a onetime thing. I don’t want you to go back to working nights. I have been enjoying you having a fairly normal work schedule.”
“Yes, me too.” Taking a step out the door, I turned back then announced in my best dramatic voice, “The theater awaits!” In a normal voice I stated, “I’m not sure when I’ll be home. There may be a cast party, and I should at least make an appearance.” Charlene nodded her understanding.
Turning the key in the ignition, I heard nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
Crap, I haven’t been paying attention to Jezebel like Karma said I should. “I’m sorry, girl.” I gave the dashboard a little pat.” Who loves you?” She still wouldn’t start. The bus will take too long, and I’ll have no way home afterward. I pulled out my cell phone and called for a taxi. No sooner than I finished the call, then a cab was waiting for me. Wow, is Karma driving? Crawling into the back of the cab, I told the driver where I need to go.