Curtain Up... Act 5

There was no drama between me and Harry at work. I avoided him and his light room and I ignored him if he came in the bar. I stopped going into the theatre unless I had to. I had that small song and dance routine in the first act, but, I changed in the bathroom, snuck in and did it and got back to the bar. I hated that number. I just avoided people for a couple of days and it was easy to do. I'm sure people knew we were fighting, but, we didn't bring it to work.
*
We had a party we'd been planning for a long time, and I saw no reason to cancel it. All of our friends showed up on a Monday night, the theatre was closed and it was a good party. Shirl came with her latest man, he was a good looking idiot. She supported him and his job was to get our party drugs. Mostly pot. Everyone liked Shirl, how could you not? She was up for anything and fit in anywhere like a Chameleon. Jaws came over to try to get DaVeed again and she brought Shoeless George. It was Winter, so, he actually wore shoes. I was glad to see him. Many of the actors were there and some from a rival theatre in the city. That was interesting. No one was expecting it, but, this well known TV personality showed up. He was cast as the male lead in our next prodution and he'd been in town shmoozing up Otto, talking business. Everybody was pretty thrilled. He turned out to be a real nice guy. Gay as all get out, which left the girls out, but, he was sweet.
*
I called Otto and Maurice and invited them. I was sick of Harry telling me I couldn't invite them to our house because they were too "classy." I thought it was stupid. We went to their apartment and it wasn't fancy. They cooked for us, but, Harry wouldn't let me return the favor. Once when I was cooking pork chops for everyone, I wanted to call them and Harry acted all shocked. I was holding a can of peas and he said, you can't feed Otto canned peas! And I said, fine, I'll serve him frozen peas. But, he talked me out of calling them. What the fuck did "sophisticated" people eat? Seemed to me they were just like us, but, with better jobs. This time I wouldn't tell him I was calling them. It was a good party and I wanted them to know they were invited. I was sick of leaving them out, they were my friends! They came out and had a good time. Maurice was hot for DaVeed and fighting Jaws for his attention. They all disappeared for awhile and I think they went and got high. Maurice was giggling and hilarious. Otto was talking with theatre people and Mr. TV star. Felicia somehow got wind of the impromptu guest and showed up uninvited. She was so obnoxious, dressed in a god damned evening gown and fur and dripping diamonds. She claimed she was coming home from the opera and had seen our lights on. Really? Opera on a fucking Monday night? This bitch could out pretentious Jaws. She handed me some fancy ass wine cheese and hand made club crackers that she "just happened" to have with her. I thanked her (I already had cheese and food out) and continued to talk to some of the city theatre people. I was holding the wine cheese. She tried to take over the conversation and suddenly yelled at me,"Are you going to serve that god damned cheese or what, you idiot!" The room went silent. Glasses stopped clinking, guitars became mute. People were staring at her. I said, yes, Felicia. Of course. And I went into the kitchen. She could get away with treating me like shit at work. No one liked it, but, there wasn't much to be done. But, this was my home. How dare she talk that way to me in my own home, when she wasn't even invited??
*
Otto decided to go home after that outburst and she knew she'd gone too far. I stood at the door with him for a bit, thanking him for coming. He told Shirl that I was in the play and she said she had to see that! I said, no, you won't. I play a dimwit. Otto laughed and said, but, you're such a cute dimwit. I shook my head. And he left. Felicia practically begged him to stay, but, he wouldn't. He'd had enough of her. And Harry was on his way to a toot and they still weren't speaking really. Felicia continued to talk and drink and stuff wine cheese in her fat mouth. She had so much food in her mouth she was spitting crumbs on people. It was gross. The more wine she drank the more obnoxious she got. When she finally got the hint that her 'Queen of the theatre' routine wasn't welcome by anyone, she decided to give up and go home. At the door, she leaned over and hissed in my ear, "You are not an actress and you will stay off the stage. I'll make sure of it." She looked like some fat cartoon monster. Our one sided friendship was over and I wasn't going to forget how she'd treated me. Ever.
*
The big wigs left and the real party started. Bongs appeared and everyone was laughing. Some actors were playing acoustics and singing and as a joke, they handed me a beautiful twelve string guitar and said, do a number. I'd never played for any of them, I didn't even own my own guitar then, but, I played with my hippie friends, who were there. I'd never touched that guitar before, but, a twelve string is really just like a six string, but, with six more strings. You have to use a heavier finger placement, but, other than that..hey. I strummed it and wow, it was nice. I did a Rondstadt/Eagles tune..Desperado. I hit all the notes. It's not an easy song, but, it's beautiful, if done right. That night I was high and feeling good and I blew it out of the water. Everyone clapped and I did a little bow and handed the guitar back to the real stars. Harry grabbed my arm really hard in the kitchen and said, "you never told me you could sing and play like that." I said, you never asked. And I jerked my arm away and walked out.
*
Having discovered another thing I could do that he couldn't, infuriated Harry. After everyone left he came into the sun porch and picked a fight. He slammed open the french doors so hard, I thought the glass might break and he ordered me to go upstairs to the bedroom. I told him to leave me alone. He was drunk and mean and he kept it up, pushing me around. He sneered, "I guess you'll have to audition for Otto now and sing for him." It was asinine. If Otto had been there, I never would have sang anyway. I was so mad, I said, "I don't have to audition, all I have to do is tell him I can sing and he'll believe me." That wasn't true, I was just pissed and I knew it would get his goat. I went on,"You're just pissed because I sing twice as good as that snotty no talent cunt you're fucking and my pussy doesn't smell like old rotted meat." By this time, he knew he didn't have a prize in her. He knew she was basically fired for being an idiot and all he'd done was make himself look like a slag. He also knew I was really leaving. He ordered me again to "get my fucking ass upstairs." I said, no and he tried to rape me. It pissed me right the fuck off. When people you know do that to you, it's not traumatic like if a stranger does it. It's humiliating, you feel helpless and you feel..so fucking pissed. I fought hard, I threw him off me and ran upstairs and locked the heavy wood door. He pounded on it and broke things, but, he couldn't get it open. Fuck him. He could sleep on the sun porch. I was leaving. I hated him in that moment. I hated his fucking asshole guts.
***

Maurice had invited me up for coffee and gossip one morning and he answered the door dressed in a frilly pink robe, an apron, cold cream mask and pink foam rollers in his hair. I shook my head and said nothing. With him, you never knew. Both he and Otto fucked with your head all the time and left you to puzzle it out. They delighted in that. My kid looked at Maurice and said, "Are you a lady?" I told him, he certainly was. Then the kid observed, "Butter has that face stuff to make her beautiful. It hasn't worked yet." I had to laugh. Maurice scowled, but, little Eric saved himself by saying, "You don't need that Maurice, you look like Mikhail." Maurice flipped his wig. "Mikhail Baryshnikov??" "Oh, you dear child, there's change on my dresser, go get yourself a dollar!" I didn't tell Maurice that Eric had seen Baryshnikov on TV and he meant they wore the same dance pants. Otto came out of his bedroom dressed to the nines and Maurice jumped up to get him some coffee. He loved playing the dutiful housewife (in vain) to his younger roommate. Otto sipped his coffee and leaned on the counter. He rested his chin on hand, elbow on the counter and stared at me with a naughty smile. He was making me nervous. Maurice noticed and said,"Oh, get out, you look like a moon struck pup." Otto laughed and went to work. As he closed the door, I said, "Maurice, sometimes I just don't get men." He said, "You and me both, sister." And we clinked cups. I was halfway down the stairs when it hit me what Maurice was doing. It was a bit from Rocky Horror. That part where Tim Curry is backstage in curlers and drag. Awww, nice try, Maurice, but, you aint Tim Curry. I shook my head. Always a bit. Maybe Otto's act was a bit too. From some old movie. With those two, you never were sure. They entertained me like nobodies beeswax though.
*
Maurice had handed me my itinerary for the day. He did that for me when I had duties besides the bar to keep track of. Today I was to meet the new leading lady for La Mancha at the Amtrac station. She was from New York and had won all sorts of awards and she didn't "do" planes. Maurice said Otto was gaga over her. Gaga? Really? I was out of sorts about it. That's all I needed, watching Otto play his love struck bit to someone else. So far, I had been the only recipient and I liked it that way. Oh, well. I just hoped she wasn't a diva. It was a long ride from the city.
*
She wasn't a diva. Leslie Banks was the loveliest actress I had ever met. She was over forty, who knows how much, actors never give their real age, and she was pure class. She wasn't beautiful, but, she had a good face and a lean tall dancer's body. She was very nice to me. Leslie was well known in theatre circles, but, our star, the Don Quixote, was the television personality. His name was going to draw big. She was playing Aldonza opposite him. Well, imagine my shock when I saw her in action at rehearsals and realized who the real star was. It was her show..no doubt. She was incredible, no wonder Otto was gaga. We all were. I was star struck for the first time in the two years I had been there. I have to tell you that since then I have seen fifty Aldonza's, but, I have never seen that part done like Leslie did it. So, I know it wasn't my youth and inexperience. She was a true star.
*
When the final dress rehearsal took place, I sat in the empty front row near Otto, as usual and I watched. It was his peacock moment and he loved to see my reactions. And I loved giving him that. In La Mancha there is a gang rape scene. Otto had set it up like a ballet, but, a really violent ballet. Aldonza (Leslie) was brutalized. It was so graceful, yet still so realistic that several actors had gotten real injuries before the choreography was worked out. It touched me deeply and I was shaken. Otto grinned. Then our Aldonza appeared, torn, bloody, ravished and she sang to Quixote, "Look At Me, Look At Me!" Leslie was out of control. She bled on the stage. She yanked out her hair, she collapsed on her knees declaring herself a whore. Her rich voice was full of tormented emotion. The whole thing tore my heart out. I started to cry, tears ran down my cheeks and I could not control it. Otto looked at me and did a double take. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. He said, "Don't fret Daisy, I give her multiple orgasms in the next act." I hit him in the arm and got up to leave. I was humiliated. No one, NO ONE, had ever seen me cry. I was one tough cookie. Otto grabbed my hand and pulled me back to my seat. He whispered, "You know what I love about you, Daisy? Sometimes, you let me know why I'm here." It was a great compliment and confidence. Otto was not a man given to saying intimate things lightly. He softly kissed my hand and I was glad the actors could not see into the dark audience with the stage lights up. It was the first time I had seen Otto physically touch anyone. He was not that sort of person. Somehow I managed to get through the play without buckled knees. I had it bad by this time. He had undone me.
*
There was a small bit in the play that I really adored. It was the Moorish dance number. It had a Gypsy belly dancer who seduces Quixote and steals him blind. I thought it was just the cutest. Otto had done away with the dumb Gypsy singing and had the orchestra take over with flutes and drums. The music was haunting and seductive, it rose and fell and then crashed into life at the end. I loved it, but, I wished that part was mine. The actress in it was a good ballroom dancer, I liked her a lot, but, she was not pretty. Poor thing. She was clearly uncomfortable in the skimpy costume. It was the one time I thought Otto might have miscast. She was not sexy. She'd gotten the part because she was a dance teacher and Maurice had beefed it to the hilt for her. I kept thinking what I'd do with that part. I knew I could do it better. I'd watched Otto direct enough. I could make it funny. Duuh, big dream. I wasn't an actress. Still..ever since we'd been to the Greek place, I'd been fascinated by belly dance. It was all isolated muscle control and I did it at home, in the bathroom, when no one was around. I could snap a towel on my hips without moving anything else. Heh. Anyway, fat chance for me and anyhow, Mr. TV Star was the main character, certainly not a belly dancer.
*
The next day I was lugging beer cases and Otto wasn't leering like he usually did. He loved it when I carried heavy things, it turned him on. So weird. Anyway, I wondered what was up? Otto was telling Maurice he would NOT cut a number, it was essential to the play. He said, "That part lets the audience connect with Quixote, it pulls them into the vulnerable part of his insanity. It stays." I looked at Maurice and he said, "Oh, that damn actress who plays the belly dancer broke her fucking ankle." Otto said, "Find someone, now!" And he left the building. It was opening night! Maurice was stressed and screeching, "What the fuck do I do?" There were no understudies for small parts. I said, "Maurice, put me in that part." He said, NO. "Maurice, put me in that part!" NO. I followed him down the hall begging, something I had never ever done. I thought most of the actors were ridiculous ego heads in real life, and I wouldn't lower my tough street self to their begging level. But, this part was made for me! "Maurice, please..put me in." NO. "Maurice, it's a little tiny part!" NO. It went on until he lost it and hissed, "You don't even have a fucking belly!" It cut me deeply, because he meant I was too skinny and not sexy and sensuous. Of course I had no belly, I weighed in at 105 pounds and worked like a lumberjack! My day uniform was a button up boy style shirt over tight faded bell bottom jeans and boys suspenders. I always wore a good minimizer bra too. But, underneath, I had double D's and a twenty inch waist. I'm sure Otto noticed how I was built, but, Maurice was a Queen. He'd never noticed. He could see I was hurt when he snapped at me and he said, "Daisy, I'm sorry, I am so fucking stressed." I told him it was okay and I headed back to the bar. He called out, "Well, go get the fucking costume on." And I yelled and hugged him. He said, "Eww, ick. Well at least you don't need a wig, your hair will work."
*
Oh my Gawd! I got the part! I went down to the dressing room and got the costume, and took it to the women's bathroom where I always dressed. Oh my gawd, it was nothing but, a teeny tiny gold bikini with a see through skirt attached. It had gold bangles all over the bra and the butt. They rattled when you shook them. I undressed and put it on. The bottom rocked, it dropped down low on my hips way past my belly button, showing curves. The bra top was too small. I ripped out the padding the dancer had sewn in it, and it was still too tight. Sigh. I arranged the girls the best I could, I had cleavage nearly to my chin. I reckoned that could be parlayed into a comic bit. I tousled my long hair and let it fall down my back. I ran to the stage where Maurice was working and said, "Hey big boy", and posed. Maurice dropped a pencil he'd had in his mouth and it rattled on the stage floor. He was speechless. Then he said, "Jesus Christ, Daisy, where did you get those?" I said, I grew 'em just for you. "Well"...he said.. "damn! " (I have to point out that this was before anyone had implants. You either grew 'em or you didn't.) Maurice quickly put me in my place by saying "You will do as I say, Daisy, this is professional theatre and no back talk." I told him he was the boss on stage. I promised.
*
I took my place on stage, with no Quixote or Sancho, no orchestra and no donkeys, just some chorus gypsy men. And Maurice ran through the routine. Shit, shit, shit. I may have had the tits, but, I was clearly no dancer. It was way hard. Why hadn't I noticed all the fancy choreography Maurice had shoved in it? He had built the part for a dance teacher. The belly dancing was a piece of cake, but, the rest of it..oh, fuck me. He used dance directions, like, half step, left step, toe step, half turn, shuffle, toe, leap. I had no idea what he was talking about. But, I memorized the verbal directions. He ran through it twice and then he got pissed and said, "You're going to fuck this up and Otto is going to blame me!" I swore to him that I'd get it. Then he got this queer look on his face and said, "I don't have time for this shit. Improvise. Or..you can go bother Mr. TV Star to rehearse with you." Then he swished off. I was so shocked. Maurice and I were friends, but, he was always so jealous because of the attention Otto gave me. I realized he was willing to let a stage bit go into the shitter for spite. I would look like an idiot and that's what he wanted. He figured it was such a small part, only Otto and the critics would notice. With Leslie's talent and Mr. TV Star's name carrying the production, I'd just look like a forgettable ass. It was so unprofessional. If Otto had found out he pulled that, he would have been all over his ass. But, Maurice knew me well. He knew I would never tell. And that nasty bit about going to Mr. TV Star! No one in chorus bothered the stars, especially one like him.
*
Well, Maurice had played his hand, but, I wasn't going to give up. I'd show him. I actually got up the guts to go upstairs and knock on the stars dressing room door. I told him the situation and instead of being a diva asshole, he was a super nice guy. He took me out into the wide hallway and we rehearsed. We had no music, but, we improvised. He really was nice, we got to talking and laughing and when the part came where I put his hands on my boobs he did it discreetly. I said, hey, if your willing to go for it, so am I! He said, he was up for it. In fact, he loved it. We made that part so lewd, if I hadn't been so excited, I would have gone red in the face. We had a blast with it. And I learned the dance. All of it. Maurice could suck it, I was holding my own. The dance teacher had had six weeks to perfect it. I had one afternoon.
*
That night I stood backstage waiting for my cue and I was so nervous my palms started sweating. Oh, my, gawd, who did I think I was? I wasn't a fucking dancer! I was a fool! This wasn't a school play, it was a professional theatre with real stars! I was an idiot! The closer it got, the more panicked I became. But, then, the strangest thing happened. A calm came over me and as my cue came on the last thing I thought was, oh well, at least Otto will see me in a bikini...and Felicia can suck on that. It made me laugh as I hit my mark. A soft pink spotlight hit me as the main characters had dialog. During that part, I could improvise my belly dance and I knew how to do that. I couldn't see the audience, but, I felt them looking. I had their attention. All eight hundred of them. The main spotlight hit me then, which was my cue for the choreography. I had never done it to music. If Otto had found that out, he might have killed Maurice. I hit every mark. I have no idea how. I spun, leapt, switched my skirt, scissored my legs around a gypsy man and was spun and hurled through the air to another man. I seduced Don Quiotxe with the vengeance of a true gypsy whore. And I stole him blind. I rubbed my butt up and down his back and legs and beckoned him, come hither, with my hands. I touched my own breasts. I could feel the audience holding their breath. When I put his hand on my breast and he said, "She wishes me to feel the beating of her heart and in her innocence, knows not where it is!" I snapped my head to the audience, hair flying, and gave them the look. One eyebrow shot up and I tilted my head and pouted through my red lipstick, like, what the fuck? The audience roared. It was not scripted. I shimmied my hand down his arm and put his other hand on my free tit. Hard and lewd and disgusting. Sancho said, "Or even how many she has!" Big laughs followed. I shimmied backwards and let my hair puddle on the floor begging for money for sex. I gnawed the coin he gave me and stuck it in my bra, grinning lewdly. (Also not in the script.) The more they laughed the harder I danced. We leapt into action doing the dance of three. Sancho, Quiotxe and I, all in step, all perfect, every step, every kick in time with the orchestra...and then I spun three times the opposite and dived eight feet. I didn't think, I dived. Hard. I hit that stage with my chest and slid all the way between Quixote's spread legs and ended on the floor, facing the audience with my head resting in my palm. I winked. It was a grand finale. The audience went wild and the curtain closed.
*
I was gasping for breath as I changed and made my way back to the bar, but I was so happy. I knew I'd done well. I may have been new to the stage, but, I knew big laughs when I heard them and I knew some of them weren't for the well known lines. I'd made a small wordless bit funny and exciting. Oh, I knew Otto would never tell me I'd done well. He wasn't that type of director. When he was happy, you knew it, but, he would never compliment anyone. I didn't expect it. But, I saw him briefly that night, in the bar surrounded by the swells who were telling him that it was the best production of La Mancha they had ever seen. Even on Broadway. He grinned at me, biting his bottom lip and shook his head. I knew I had shocked him in a good way and that was enough for me. I was on top of the world. The only people who didn't know I was dancing for Otto that night were some of the actors who were too self absorbed to notice. Harry had figured it out and he came to the sun room door later that night. Turned out we had standing room only that night and Otto had watched the play with him at the light station. Harry said, "Otto said he loved that look you gave the audience. He said you have natural comedic timing. He said you stole that scene!" I ignored him, pretending it made no difference to me what Otto said, but, secretly I was pumping my fist with glee. I shut the door in Harry's face as he shouted, "You're a scene stealer, that's what you are! A little scene stealer!" Holy.. cow. I'd stolen a scene from a TV star! How about that?! Everyone in theatre knows that if you do your job and steal a scene then you are entitled to it. All's fair in love, war and stage. It was pretty heady stuff for any new actress. It was really heady stuff if you were a bartender. The bruised ribs and scraped elbow were a small price to pay for ten minutes in heaven.