The talk around our house has been family. And babies.
And that leads me to a story and a suspicion...
Sally ending up in movies really wasn’t a surprise.
The truth is, she had long wanted to be in theatre.
Seriously.
For a while, that’s all she talked about. ‘Hitting the boards’.
Whatever that means.
She was actually cast in a play here in our city.
Once.
Not the lead, but an important part. A governess.
The truth is, she had long wanted to be in theatre.
Seriously.
For a while, that’s all she talked about. ‘Hitting the boards’.
Whatever that means.
She was actually cast in a play here in our city.
Once.
Not the lead, but an important part. A governess.
I
don’t remember much else about the play itself apart from the fact that she and
another woman were in the first scene. Two turn-of-the-century governesses
gossiping about the families they worked for during a daily sojourn in a park.
Their baby carriages, supposedly complete with quietly sleeping infants, were
parked beside them as they gossiped. Behind them were a gazebo, a small garden
shed, and notable vegetation. (All great, wooden cutouts realistically painted,
BTW.)
Now
the theatre Sally’s play was performing in had a unique feature. A moving ‘thrust’
stage.
For
any to whom this term is unfamiliar (ie. me) it is a stage that ‘thrusts’ out
into the audience. Chairs are arranged to accommodate and the audience members
get an up-close-and-personal, three-sided view.
Now
what made this theatre truly unique
is the fact that this particular thrust stage wasn’t permanently in that
position.
No.
It
was cranked forward for each performance at the push of a button.
Following
the retracting of the great, ponderous stage curtains via another button.
(Bless
mechanics and electricity.)
So
the proper order for all of this was: first, the curtains. Then, the stage.
And
finally, the first line from the two women who had been thrust out with the stage.
For
all of the rehearsals and the first four performances, all had gone perfectly.
Perfectly.
I
can even remember Sally’s first line: Gertrude (while fanning herself rapidly with
a large fan): “I tell you, Hortense, I do not know how much longer I
can possibly put up with it!”
‘Hortense’
answered and blah, blah, blah...play.
Then,
the fifth performance.
Now
you have to know this was a matinee. And though the playbills specifically requested
no ‘infants in arms’, there were several.
It
made for a restless, rather noisy audience.
By
curtain time, the actors and the backstage
crew (I was the script girl) were already strung out.
Then
what happened…happened. And no it wasn’t someone’s cellphone ringing. (Don’t I
wish.)
The
stage manager hit the button for the thrust stage first.
Uh-oh.
Said
stage was well into its grand entrance before he realized he had forgotten to
pull the curtains.
The
very, very heavy, capable of sweeping a stage bare (and made that way to cancel
noise backstage) curtains.
Already,
the sounds of set pieces hitting the wooden planking were loud and…notable.
As
well as the shrieks of the two women already in their places in the dark and
trying to avoid messy squishiness and/or death.
As
the curtains finally opened, one of the props, Sally’s baby carriage—already
tipped and threatening disaster—took the final tumble.
Spilling
a not-that-real-after-all infant onto the stage.
Where
it rolled, like a little flannel-wrapped football, into the audience.
There
was a small, dusty pause as audience and actors alike blinked. And actors’ minds
began working frantically for ways to salvage…
Almost
before the rest of us could draw a breath, Sally had picked up her skirts and
leaped down from the stage.
Handing
the baby doll to a woman seated on the front row holding her own sleeping
infant, Sally said, loudly, “Here’s your baby ma’am. Please take better care.”
Then,
scooping up the woman’s own very real baby, she scurried back onstage, righted
her carriage, made a show of placing the infant in it, and said her first line.
The
woman stood up—I expect she was about to protest the apparent kidnapping of her
child—then sat back down.
Maybe
she was excited to have said child onstage at such a young age.
Maybe
she was just happy to have someone else take it for a while.
The
play went well from there on.
As
‘Gertrude’ and ‘Hortense’ continued their scene, black-costumed stagehands efficiently righted set pieces and all was well.
The
child was quietly traded back during intermission, none the worse for its
sudden drafting into the world of theatre.
Surprisingly—or
maybe not so much—Sally got several acting offers thereafter.
All
of which she had to turn down because…movies…fame…sigh.
And now the aforementioned suspicion...
I’m
telling you all of this because Sally has suddenly started talking about ‘family’
and necessities a family needs like ‘toilet paper’ and…and how good that baby
was for her during that play and how much she enjoyed holding it. And aren’t
babies nice?!
I
know she’s not announcing the pitter-patter of little feet because she, like
Mom, has a pretty strong opinion on Marriage First.
But
she and Mort have been exchanging significant looks and I know he’s dragged my
Peter to the jewelry store on more than one occasion.
The
truth is, I think we have a wedding in our future.
Lord
help us all…
Each month, we submit words and each month, our noble Karen re-distributes. We don’t know where our words went or what will be done with them…
Until now.
We’re as surprised and pleased as you!
This month, my words: football ~ curtains ~ toilet paper ~ cellphone
Came—via Karen—from my wonderful friend Rena at
Thank you, my friend!
Ready for more?
Here are the links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:
Baking In A Tornado
The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver
Climaxed
Part-time Working Hockey Mom
