Stage Fright (Bit Parts) (2 page)

She grabbed a fistful of make-up removing wipes and rolled her eyes.  “This was the worst piece of garbage I’ve ever appeared in.  And that includes my high school’s god-awful production of
Cats
.”

Unfortunately, Tabby was right.  The play,
County Dracula,
had been dreadful.  As always, Charles’s direction was top-notch, but the script, a rewrite of Bram Stoker’s classic vampire story, was appalling. 
County Dracula
was set in Polk County, Iowa, during the depression of the 1920’s, and it told the story of a traveling salesman vampire who falls in love with the innocent daughter of a country doctor.  If the play had been a farce, we might have gotten away with it.  Unfortunately, it was meant to be an earnest commentary on the Hoover administration, socialism, and the effects of the Dust Bowl.  The only reason it had been staged in the first place was because the owner of the Bleak Street Theatre had wanted it.  Since Charles was indebted to the Bleak Street’s owner, he always directed whatever she ordered him to.  No matter how crappy the script.

“Well, Andrew
did
get a good mention in
The Detroit News
,” I said.  I patted my friend’s shoulder.  “The reviewer said because of him, ‘the play was merely terrible instead of a ghastly failure.’”  Coming from Tom Wiggins, a notoriously crotchety reviewer, this was high praise.

Tabby sniffed.  “That’s only because Wiggins is madly in love with Andrew.”  She, of course, was jealous since Wiggins had called her performance, ‘insipid and mealy’.

Darryl Pitkin, who had played Renfield, sidled up.  Just like Dracula’s insane, fly-eating servant, Darryl was a small, ratty man with a thick uni-brow and tiny eyes.  Although he’d been putting moves on all the women since the first night of auditions, he was especially taken with Tabitha.  “Nice job tonight, Tabby.  You really outdid yourself.”

She flipped her blond hair over her shoulder, leaned closer to her mirror, and ignored him.

Darryl didn’t give up.  “You know who you remind me of?  A really young Meryl Streep.  I’m not kidding.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

Sick of Darryl’s oily advances, Tabitha got up without a word and went into the ladies’ room.  Still, Darryl persisted.  “She
does
remind me of Meryl Streep.  You guys see it, right?”

“Give it up,” I said.  “She’s obviously not into you.”

His greasy smile returned.  “Don’t be jealous, Cassandra.  There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“That’s right, Cassie.  Darryl spreads like a rash,” Andrew said.

“What the hell would you know about it, gay boy?”  Darryl pushed Andrew hard in the shoulder and stalked off.

“Idiot,” Andrew muttered.  He glared at his reflection in the mirror and began wiping off his eyeliner.  “I am so glad I don’t have to work with that jackass anymore,” he said.  “So
freaking
glad.”

Charles squeezed between a pair of extras who were blocking the hallway.  It was a relief to see him smiling again.  Although Charles was only five foot six, his personality made him seem bigger.  Or rather, more threatening.  Over the past five months, he had been a tyrant, and the closer we got to opening night, the nastier he’d become.  His gray eyes held such a steely glare that even across a darkened theater, an actor could feel it and stumble over his lines.  But while Charles was demanding and egotistical, he was also a damn fine director.  Only he could have salvaged something from a wreck of a script like
County Dracula
.

Holding onto Charles’s arm was a beautiful, pale-skinned woman with scarlet lips and hair so black it appeared to have blue highlights.  She cut a regal figure.  The arch of her eyebrows and her cool smile conveyed confidence, even haughtiness.  Diamonds sparkled at her throat and wrist.

Charles gave Andrew an adoring smile.  “I’d like to introduce you to someone.  This is Miss Hedda Widderstrom.”

So this was the owner of the Bleak Street Theatre.  I’d often wondered about the woman whose bronze bust adorned the lobby.  With her obdurate expression and thin smile, the real Hedda appeared as cold and hard as the statue.  Even Charles seemed intimidated by her.

“I enjoyed your performance very much,” Hedda told Andrew.

Andrew dropped his gaze, as humble as a geisha.  “Thank you.  But the entire cast and crew deserve credit.”

“My, my.  Talent
and
modesty.”  Hedda and Charles laughed.  “And beauty.  Dear gods, is he stunning.”  She touched the underside of Andrew’s chin with her index finger.  “You outshone everyone on stage, my dear.”  She dropped her hand and glanced at Charles.  “He’d make an exceptional partner.”

Somehow, Andrew managed to hang onto his smile.  “I already have a partner.”

Hedda’s eyes narrowed.  “What do you mean you already have a partner?”

Charles quickly said.  “Boyfriend.  Andrew means he’s in a relationship.”

Hedda gave an ‘ah’ of understanding, and her lips curved into a secret smile that gave me chills.

Hedda moved closer.  “Tell me, did you like the play?”

Andrew tensed.  Although he hated the play as much as the rest of us, he answered carefully, fully aware that the playwright was a close friend of Hedda’s.  “I liked the vampire’s soliloquy in the second act,” he finally said.  So had everyone else.  It was the only part of the play worth a damn.  “I thought it turned the monster into a sympathetic character.”

Hedda’s gaze sharpened.  “
Monster
?  You thought the vampire was monstrous?”

Charles cleared his throat.  “I think what Andrew is trying to say…”

Hedda cut her eyes at him.  “I wasn’t asking you.”

Charles, chagrinned, fell back a step.  Andrew and I exchanged smirks in the mirror.  As much as I liked and admired Charles, he’d put the cast and crew through hell during rehearsals.  A few nights ago, he’d bellowed that Andrew was turning Dracula into, “a goddamned, prancing fairy queen.”  It was nice to see
him
humbled for once.

“Well, usually Dracula is considered a monster,” Andrew said, speaking carefully.  “But in the play, he explains that, although he’s changed physically, he hasn’t lost his soul.  He still admires music and art.  He loves Lucy Seward.  In fact, he appreciates humans even more now that he no longer is one.”

At this, I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from rolling my eyes.  No amount of smooth talking could hide the fact that
County Dracula
was dreck.  Hedda’s face relaxed, however, and she nodded her approval.  “Nicely said.  You’ve summed up the heart of the play perfectly.”

She became brisk.  “Now then, Andrew, let me explain why I’m here.  I’m staging a brand-new show in six weeks, and…”

Charles gave a start.  “What do you mean a new show?  And in six weeks? 
Julius Caesar
is due to open at the end of January!”

Hedda didn’t spare him a glance.  “I’m cancelling
Julius Caesar
.”

Charles ran his fingers through his silver hair.  “But this season was planned over a year ago.  We’ve already sold tickets, and I’ve begun casting!  We can’t…”

She held up her hand, cutting him off.  “Now is not the time, Charles.”  She turned her attention back to Andrew.  “As I was saying, I would like to invite you to audition for the show.”

My pulse quickened.  Before working at the Bleak Street, I’d never heard of Hedda Widderstrom, but from the hints Charles had dropped over the past few months, it was clear that Miss Widderstrom had a great deal of influence in the theater community.  She didn’t just know the movers and shakers, she had set them in motion to begin with.  Catching Hedda’s eye was like getting the ‘Advance to GO’ card in Monopoly.  You might not win the game because of it, but it would certainly put you ahead of everyone else.

“This is a very unique engagement,” Hedda said.  Her violet eyes glittered.  “It’s an avant-garde piece.”

Avant-garde.  Uh oh.  That’s exactly what Charles had said about
County Dracula
back when he’d offered me a job.  “How experimental?” I asked.

Her smile widened, giving a glimpse of overly white teeth.  “It’s called
16 Voices Talking at the Same Time
.”

I suppressed a groan.  “Does it really involve sixteen actors all speaking at the same time?”  When Hedda nodded, I grimaced without meaning to.  I hadn’t thought anything could be worse than
County Dracula
.  No wonder most people thought modern theater was dead.

Her sharp eyes pierced me.  “My dear, Shakespeare was once considered too experimental because he mixed comedy with tragedy.”

Comparing
Much Ado about Nothing
to something called
16 Voices Talking at the Same Time
was absurd, but I kept my mouth shut.

“Who wrote it?” Andrew asked.

Hedda brightened even more.  “Victor Stuyvesant.  He’s a close, personal friend of mine, and he’ll be working alongside the director and actors.”

Not again!  The
County Dracula
playwright had also been a close friend.  Surely something in the AEA bylaws prohibited the torture of actors.  Andrew and I exchanged worried looks in the mirror.

Charles’s jaw dropped, and his eyebrows jumped.  “Victor
Stuyvesant
?  Of the New York Stuyvesants?”  At Hedda’s nod, Charles said, “Any idea why he’s making a surprise visit to Detroit?”

“He’s here to stage a play, of course.”  Hedda continued to smile, but several nervous tugs on the diamond bracelet belied her calm.  “And, of course, to attend my little party tomorrow night.”

Charles’s lips puckered, as if he’d suddenly bit down on something sour.  “You’re still going through with that?”

“I see no need to cancel.  Luquin deserves recognition for all he’s done for me.”

Charles’s hands clenched into fists.  From our weeks together, I knew his temper was rising like the mercury in a thermometer.  “After all
he’s
done for you?  What about
me
?”

Hedda’s eyes blazed.  “It isn’t your place to question my decision.”  The vehemence behind her words cracked like a whip.

Charles jerked as if he’d been hit, and he lowered his eyes.  “You’re right.  I apologize.”

Hedda nodded stiffly.  “Well, Andrew?” she asked, her voice gentle once more.  “Are you interested?”

“Who’s directing?” Andrew asked.

Hedda waited several seconds longer than necessary before finally saying, “Charles.  Of course.”

A little color returned to Charles’s face, and some of the tension went out of his shoulders.  He bowed slightly.  “I’d be honored.”

“In that case, maybe,” Andrew said.  “What about you, Cassie?  Are you going to audition?”

Shocked, I stumbled over my reply.  “Well, I don’t know…it’s a great opportunity, but I’m awfully busy.”  It wasn’t just my fear of auditioning that made my palms sweat.  It was Hedda herself.  Something about that woman put me on edge.

Hedda studied me, gauging my reaction, before dismissing me with a shrug.  “The auditions are by invitation only.”

Relief blew through my chest.  “Oh, sure, I understand.  No problem.”

Hedda turned back to Andrew.  “Well?”  When he hesitated, Hedda said, “Why don’t you read the play before you decide.”  She took a script from her purse and laid it on Andrew’s table.  “Auditions begin next week.”

Annoyed that Andrew was getting all of the attention, Tabitha sauntered up.  She gave Hedda her best ingénue smile.  She didn’t carry it off nearly as well as Andrew had.  “Hello.  I’m Tabitha Purcell.”

Hedda smiled slightly.  “Ah, the beautiful leading lady.”

Beautiful.  My jealous brain clung to that word.  Tabby wasn’t a gifted actress, but her looks sold tickets.  She was tall where I was short.  Her complexion was fair whereas mine was the color of tea.  She also had blond hair, a pert nose, and a perfect figure while I had none of those things.

Tabitha offered her hand, but Hedda left it hanging.  Turning to Charles, she said, “Now, where is the other actor I wanted to meet?”

“This way.”  Charles ushered his guest away from us.

Tabby stood stunned, like she’d been running full tilt and suddenly smacked into a glass wall.  I sucked in my cheeks to hide my smile.

Charles and Hedda passed by the remaining principal cast.  When they reached the end of the hallway, only one actor remained.  Tabby’s fists clenched in outrage.  “Oh.  My.  God.”

Darryl had changed from his costume and back into his gangsta wannabe attire: baggy jeans carefully sagged to reveal a stripe of red boxers, and an oversized t-shirt.  He was lacing up a pair of fluorescent yellow high tops.

Darryl!  Of all people!  The guy’s performances were as wooden and creaky as the Bleak Street’s stage.  “Oh, the injustice,” I muttered.

When Charles handed over a script to
16 Voices
, Darryl thrust out his chest.  Making sure everyone was watching, he said in his loudest onstage voice, “I would consider it an
honor
to audition for a part, Miss Widderstrom.”  I rolled my eyes before deciding it wasn’t worth my energy to be jealous.  Other than Andrew, Hedda Widderstrom’s taste in actors appeared to be as terrible as her taste in plays.

While I locked up the theater and turned off the lights, Andrew finished packing up his things.  When I came backstage again, he rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Ready to get that drink?”

The back hallway was still a mess, but cleanup could wait until Monday.  “Let’s do it,” I said.  I grabbed my purse and followed Andrew through the back door.

Charles and Hedda stood in the tiny, employee-only parking lot behind the back of the theater.  Charles had smoked halfway through one of his unfiltered Camels, and was already shaking another from the pack.  “Because honoring Luquin isn’t fair!  You’ve kept me waiting for
years
!”

Hedda spoke with quiet intensity.  “And you will continue to wait as long as I say…”

Seeing Andrew and me, Charles cleared his throat.  Hedda immediately cut herself off.

“Good night, Charles,” Andrew said.  He turned to Hedda.  “It was nice meeting you.”