Last Night at the Blue Angel (5 page)

I finish my grilled cheese, drop my paper plate with its slippery yellow stain into the trash, and start to make my way through the maze of the lower level toward Mother's dressing room, but Jim scrambles after me.

Hey
, he says,
Where you going?

Mom's room
.

But Carson's going to have those monkeys on
.

I don't care about monkeys. I want to be with Mother
.

Come on
,
kid. Come back with us for just a little while longer
.

I wave at him and run to her room.

The door is locked. I put my ear to it and don't hear anything. I walk to the end of the hallway. The walls are concrete painted pink and the floor is concrete as well but smooth, the color of a blackboard. Nothing could get you back here, not even the bomb. I'm pretty sure.

I try another door. It's open. I turn on the lights. It's like Mother's dressing room but smaller.

Before the bulbs get hot, I unscrew all but every third one. This is how Mother does it; it cuts down on the heat and, as she says, keeps her face from melting.

There's an abandoned smock draped over a metal chair. Pepto-Bismol pink with snaps along the shoulder, worn to protect costumes from hairspray and pancake foundation. A sign posted by the door reads:
WHEN YOU ARE IN COSTUME DO NOT: SMOKE, EAT, ROUGHHOUSE, GO OUT OF DOORS, RUN, SIT ON THE FLOOR. ALSO DO NOT: FORCE ZIPPERS, LACING, HOOK-AND-EYES, OR SNAPS. PLEASE REPORT ANY DAMAGE TO COSTUME SHOP IMMEDIATELY SO THAT SITUATION IS NOT MAKE WORSE.
This has to be Hilda's sign. Her English gets bad when she's worried.

I sit at the vanity and look in the mirror. I don't usually look at myself because I'm busy looking at Mother all the time, her beauty crashing over me. It makes you not want to look at your ordinary self. Your red haywire hair. Your round moon face. Your four million freckles and your buckteeth. Eyelashes and eyebrows so pale you can't see them. I lean in close. Turns out I even have freckles on my lips.

You're the type a girl turns pretty overnight
, Jim said once, after hearing Paul call me Howdy Doody after school.

I get up and lay the smock on the floor. The globe lights warm the small room and I fall asleep curled up on the smock.

When I wake up, it takes awhile to figure out where I am. Steve is shouting,
Sophia!
And I can hear Jim and Mother fighting.

Sophia
, Steve calls. From a distance I hear Jim. He's saying,
It IS your life. YOUR life. And SO am I and so is EVERYONE here. We are ALL YOUR LIFE
.

I'm facing the door when Steve opens it. He drops down to his haunches so he can hug me face-to-face.
I was worried
.
We couldn't find you
.

I was in here
, I say.

I see that
.

We stand there a minute before turning out the lights and leaving the small, warm room.

Mother runs down the hallway, allowing her robe to fly open, showing her peach-colored bra and garter belt. The elastic of her garters is shot and knocks against her bare legs as she rushes toward me looking like a giant butterfly. Almost sliding into me, she squats and grabs me by the arms, shaking me. Her hair is down and there's mascara under her eyes.

God damn it
, she shouts.
God damn it
,
Sophia. What were you thinking? God damn it
.

Enough now
, says Steve.

This is not your affair
, she says, standing up and facing him, trying to make herself tall.

I get away from her and run. I'm wearing my tennis shoes. She's wearing little heels and can't catch me, but Jim does.

Let's all just slow down
, he says as we walk back to Mother's dressing room.

Damn it
, she shouts from behind us.
A moment alone! One moment!
She storms into the bathroom.
I need to collect myself
. The doors swing shut behind her.

I think of my Tugboat Annie puzzle. All the parts it takes to make Tugboat Annie Tugboat Annie. Mother in the bathroom, collecting all her parts.

I open the door to Mother's dressing room and A-5 is sitting on the chaise. He gets up. He has tan skin and dark whiskers, and when he stands, he's tall as a tree.

And who are you?
asks Jim.

A friend
, he says. He tugs at his pants just above his knees and lowers his body down to squat in front of me.

Hello
,
doll
, he says.

I look at him. I don't let go of Jim.

Quite a head of hair you got there
, he says, touching my head. I step out of his reach.

He studies me, turning a cigarette in his long fingers.

You locked me out
, I tell him.

I realize that now
.
I'm awful sorry
.

You should probably be going
, says Jim.

A-5 doesn't look at him.

Can you forgive me?
he asks.

I don't even know you
.

The girls are tired
, says Jim.

A-5 stands, nods.
You look out for them?

Jim glares at him over the top of his glasses.

A-5 puts on his coat and lifts his hat from Mother's vanity. He places it carefully on his head and stares at me. Then he smiles.

What are you looking at?
I ask.

Sophia
, says Jim.

It's all right. I'm just glad to meet you is all
, says A-5.

I nod. I don't look at him until he's left and then I scramble into the hallway to watch him leave. He walks like there's all the time in the world.

I stand in the hallway a long time after he's left. Finally I turn into the dressing room and put my books in my bag. I wrap my scarf around my neck; the neck must always be covered, Mother says.

Jim looks at the room through the top of the camera and takes two pictures. I try to see what he sees but all I see is Mother's usual mess.

Jim gathers a few of her items from the counter—her hairbrush, her song folder, her watch—and places them in her big leather duffel. He lifts her gray trousers off the floor, shakes them, and drapes them over the back of her chaise. He turns her sweater right side out and sets it on the trousers, finds her socks, unrolls them, and places them on her shoes. There's something small on the floor, which he picks up, crumples, and throws in the wastepaper basket. His slowness makes me sleepy.

Behind me stands Mother, leaning in the doorframe. She smiles.
A little detective work? For old time's sake?

She cocks her head at him. He steps in front of her and she stands up straighter. I sometimes think they're just going to start punching each other.

Someone needs to know what you're doing
, he whispers.
I mean
,
you don't
.

Mother takes a quick breath like she's going to say something terrible but then she looks over at me.

CHAPTER 5

J
IM KISSES MY
head and tells me good-bye at the club and Mother is quiet on the walk home. I think she's still angry with me, though her feelings tend to spill out past the little boundary of us. Mother's feelings are the curb I walk, trying to keep my balance, and I get tired of it, being careful, and mad at her at the same time. But then she takes my hand and smiles at me.

You're my favorite
, she says. And suddenly I'm on solid footing again, struck smooth, the moment perfect, our life perfect, and me, perfectly loved.

We live in an old hotel not too far from the club. Mother says it used to be a very fancy place. She says it's ideal for us because it's so close to work.

There is a seat built into our living room window. I perch there on top of a folded blanket, and if I sit just right, I can see a sliver of lake between two buildings, and if I sit long enough, I might see a fishing boat pass by the sliver, its lantern swinging. There is a whole world out there that has nothing to do with us. I write
fishing boats
in the front of my Big Chief tablet.

Let's tuck you in
,
kitten
, says Mother.

She puts me in my nightgown and into bed.

Jim was mad
, I say.

She touches my hair and looks at my face.
It's okay
.

Is he going to come back?

Of course
,
darling
.
He never stays sore for long
.

He said he'd help me with my list. I need help with my list
.

Shhh
,
shhh
, she says.
Enough with the talking now
.

She gets up to leave.

Sing to me
, I ask.

I've been singing all night
.

But just to me
.

She sings.
“The water is wide. I cannot get over. And neither have I wings to fly. Give me a boat that can carry two and both shall row
,
my love and I.”

When she notices me, all the times she doesn't notice me get erased. Like I imagined them.

I can hear the tired in her voice. I pretend to be asleep so she can leave.

She's very quiet as she gets ready for him but her trying to be quiet is so loud. It's like sitting on the floor of the orchestra pit, her quiet. I fall asleep in all her noise, thinking about her and me alone in a boat.

T
he next morning I go quietly into Mother's room, certain A-5 is there, but she is alone, asleep on top of the covers in her peach satin gown.

She wakes.
Come here
, she says, waving me onto the bed.

I lie down in front of her and she holds me from behind.

I memorize this feeling, her smell—hairspray and worn-out perfume. Nothing else in the world but us. She breathes slowly like she's still asleep but I can hear her thoughts whirring around.

You'll come to Hilda's with me today?

Yes
, I say.

She pulls off her clip earrings and tosses them on the nightstand.

Did you think that man was going to come over last night?
This comes out of my mouth before I really think about it.

Yes
.
I thought he'd come
.

What's his name?

She's quiet for a long time.
David
.

W
e take a taxi to Hilda's. The El rattles overhead and I stare at Mother's face. When she thinks no one is looking at her, her mouth moves a little, like she's talking to someone she's mad at.

Stop staring. You're worse than Jim
, she says, like she's just very tired of everyone looking at her all the time.

Hilda is dressed in her church clothes when we arrive at her shop.

Come in
,
come in
. She flips on the lights, bends over the radiator, and turns it on. It hisses and moans.

She pulls her pincushion strap over her wrist and waves Mother forward. Mother removes her coat and trousers and blouse like she's alone in her room.

I sit down on a little bench and write
sewing machine
in my notebook.

Hilda pulls the beginnings of a dress over Mother's head and turns her this way and that by the hips.
You're distracted
, she says.

Mother ignores her.

A new lover?
says Hilda. She pins several darts around Mother's waist and Mother has her arms up in the air like she's surrendering.
I know there is someone. Hilda knows
.
You're not talking?
She's the only person I know who is allowed to scold Mother, handle her, and I like to watch.

Hilda sighs.
It's nice to sing
.
You are young still. But soon you must settle down. For her
, she says.

I have plans for myself
,
Hilda. Big plans. Why should I settle down?

Not just you. You have the child. You forget you have the child
,
I think
.

I most certainly do not
, says Mother.
And besides, she's perfectly happy. She's fine
.

Hilda bends over and pins the hem, mumbling something in Polish.

I sit down at a sewing machine and turn the bobbin and pump it with my foot. The thread is trapped between the spool and the needle. I can tell that today Mother feels stuck with me, like I'm a chore she's trying to get out of. Sometimes it stays like this for weeks. I hook the thread with my finger and pull it a little; I pull too hard. It snaps and I take a deep breath.

What are you doing?
says Hilda, rushing toward me. She speaks angrily in Polish and shakes her head.

I'm sorry
.

She bends over me and pets my head.
The child needs attention
.

Hilda
, says Mother,
come back
.
Come make me beautiful
. Mother's voice is hot coffee. Hilda is cream in it, dissolving. Like all of us.

A
fter all the pinning and turning, Mother changes back into her regular clothes and we start home, her quiet.

I wish I had a brother or a sister
, I say.

Why's that?

To play with. You had brothers and sisters
.

And do you see me playing with them?

What were they like?
I ask.

You know I'm not going to discuss this with you
.

Why?

Someday
, she says.

No, you're not. You never tell me anything
, I say to her, louder than I'd meant to.

Where is this coming from
,
this outburst?

I imagine this big family someplace far away and Mother walking away from them because they're not good enough for her or beautiful enough and if she left them behind she'll leave me behind. I start to tell her all this but stop right away because I don't want to give her any ideas.

Well?
says Mother, waiting.
I'm going home. You can stand there with your mouth open all day if you like
.