Beaches Page 2

  Cee Cee plopped herself down in a chair. There was a telegram stuck in the corner of her mirror. YOU MAY SING ABOUT YOUR MAMA BUT YOU’RE STILL MY GIRL—LOVE DADDY. Cee Cee opened what looked like a blue metal toolbox. It was filled with makeup. Bertie peeked inside. She gazed at the little round metal containers. Some had names on them. Clown white. Lip rouge. Some of them had only numbers.

  Cee Cee pulled out a parrot green tube with a black cap and removed the cap. She turned on the mirror light and squeezed some of the contents of the tube onto her finger. A little blob on her forehead, one on each cheek, and one on her chin. Quickly she smoothed them out across her face until it was a creamy suntan color.

  Bertie watched the way Cee Cee’s tiny red-tipped hands dug into the blue metal chest, taking out first one little container and then another. Blue for her eyelids, red for her cheeks, a little white under the eyebrows, a different red for her lips, some black stuff in a tiny red box marked Maybelline that she applied to her eyelashes with an itty-bitty brush.

  Bertie couldn’t believe it. Cee Cee looked like a movie star.

  The door opened and Leona came in carrying a paper bag.

  “Anybody hungry? I’m starving,” Leona said, rummaging through the bag, peeking in the waxed paper for her own sandwich.

  Cee Cee didn’t answer. Bertie wasn’t hungry. Leona started eating.

  “What time is it?” Cee Cee asked, getting up.

  “Ten to three,” Leona told her.

  “Is Harry gonna be here?” Cee Cee asked. “Is he playin’ for me?”

  “I guess so,” Leona said, getting up. “I’m sure Jerry’ll get him over here.” She wiped her hands off on a napkin and started going through the rack of clothes that hung near the wall.

  “Which one?” she asked.

  “The red,” Cee Cee said positively.

  “Why the red?”

  “It’s what I wore last night. Sit down and eat, Leona. Bertie will help me.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll eat later!”

  “Leona!”

  “Okay.”

  Cee Cee had removed her bathing suit and now stood naked. She pulled out a pair of red mesh stockings and put them on. Here and there in the mesh was a tiny rhinestone. Her grown-up, made-up face looked weird with her little-girl body. She took down a hanger with something red and sparkly on it and handed it to Bertie.

  “You hold it while I step into it,” she said.

  Bertie wasn’t sure she was holding it right, but she held it anyway. It didn’t seem to have any recognizable form, no arms or legs or a label on the back so you could tell where the front was. Cee Cee seemed to know what she was doing, though. With great agility, she stepped into two holes, put her arms through two others, did a little shimmy to pull it up, and there she was, resplendent in a tiny red-sequined suit that clung to her child’s body in a way that made it look almost curvy. Out of a little cardboard box she pulled a sparkly red pair of shoes with taps on them and sat down on the floor to put them on.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  “Tune up,” said Leona.

  “No.”

  Cee Cee took Bertie’s hand and they walked back toward the backstage area. Cee Cee’s taps clicked on the hard floor.

  “Sometimes I puke before I go on,” she told Bertie, “but this is just an audition.” As they approached the area next to the stage, a tall man wearing a bright purple long-sleeved shirt and a matching scarf around his neck came running toward Leona.

  “Oh, my God,” he said, “can you believe this?”

  “You got the music?” Leona asked.

  “Oh, sweetie, do I ever,” the man named Harry said. “And when the kid’s a star, honey, just remember who never played a wrong note for her, even saved her ass a few times on the high notes. You know?”

  Cee Cee had wandered over to the stage. She took the edge of the large curtain in her hand and pulled it back ever so slightly and peeked out at the auditorium.

  “They’re coming in,” she said, turning quickly to Harry, Leona, and Bertie. It was the first trace of true excitement Bertie had seen from her.

  “Harry, hurry up.”

  “Whaddya mean?”

  “Get to that piano,” Cee Cee said, her teeth clenched.

  “I’m not moving until Jerry tells me to,” Harry said haughtily. “He’s my boss, little Miss Movie Star, not you.”

  “Aw, go on, Harry,” Leona pleaded. “Warm them up a little. Play a few tunes.”

  “Absolutely not,” Harry said.

  “Fine, Harry,” Cee Cee said. “You’re right. Wait till Jerry Grey, the king of the kiddie shows, tells you what to do.”

  “But it would be such a good warm-up,” Leona began.

  “Say, Ma,” Cee Cee said sweetly. It was the first time Bertie had heard her call Leona anything but Leona. “What’s Charlie doin’ these days? The crippled kid who used to play for my recitals? I’ll bet he’d love Hollywood.”

  Harry pouted and walked across the stage and down the steps to the piano. Bertie could see him from where she was standing, even though the piano was in the orchestra pit. He spread all the music out on the piano and then he waved to Jerry Grey and said something that sounded to Bertie like, “Any requests?” Then he laughed and dusted off the piano stool and twisted it around a few times to make it just the right height, and unbuttoned his cuffs and shuffled through the music a few times and smiled out to where Jerry Grey was sitting and brushed back his hair, and buttoned his cuffs, until Jerry Grey finally yelled, “Hey, Harry. Get on with it. Bring out the kid.”

  Bertie was nervous. All of a sudden, she had a strange feeling that she was the one who was supposed to go out there. It was as though any second, by mistake, somebody might give her a big push and she’d find herself standing on the stage wearing the mesh stockings that had a rhinestone here and there, and that red-sequined thing, singing that song of Cee Cee’s. Bertie came out of her reverie. Cee Cee was already on stage. And that voice. That great big grown-up voice was a hundred times bigger, a hundred times better than it had been when they were standing near the boardwalk earlier. Bertie moved closer to the stage. It was difficult seeing past Leona who stood clinging to the curtain’s edge, moaning ever so slightly.

  Now Cee Cee was doing what Bertie figured must be the part Cee Cee had described as the “hot tap.” Harry pounded a few chords on the piano and then he stopped. The only sound in the place was Cee Cee’s taps on the wooden floor. Then Harry played a few more chords and Cee Cee moved those bright red shoes and made her feet fly all around. Harry began to play the regular music again, and Cee Cee whirled in a giant circle around the stage until she was almost near the center. Then suddenly, as if she’d just thought of it, she did a perfect cartwheel and stood up. Without a gasp, in perfect control, the voice came, belting out the last two lines.

  You’ve got to see mama ev’ry night,

  Or you can’t…

  No, you can’t…

  Harry pounded the piano dramatically.

  See mama…

  At all!!!!

  Cee Cee’s arms stretched to the sky until her last note was completed, and when it was, she leaned forward at the waist in a deep, deep bow.

  Bertie and Leona jumped up and down with excitement. Leona was crying and laughing, and without warning, she picked a surprised Bertie up into her big flabby arms and swung her happily in a circle.

  Harry was still playing as Cee Cee ran off the stage in the other direction and then ran back on, blowing kisses.

  She ran offstage for the last time and the music stopped. There had been some applause during the playoff, but now there wasn’t a sound. Bertie and Leona stood looking across to the other side of the wings at Cee Cee who just stood there as though she was in shock.

  Everyone, including Harry, was frozen to the spots they were in when the song ended. The silence seemed to go on forever.

  Jerry Grey’s voice broke the stillness. “Kid,” he yelled, “kid, c�
�mon out.”

  Cee Cee took a deep breath and walked slowly to the edge of the stage.

  “This is Joe Melman,” Jerry said, “and his wife, Irene. Mr. Melman is a casting director in Hollywood and he saw you in the show last night,” he continued, as if all of them didn’t know what they were doing there.

  Bertie got brave and nudged Leona out of the way so she could peek out. Melman was a handsome man. He was tall, with dark hair and glasses, and he wore a shirt and a tie and a seersucker jacket. His wife was pretty enough to be a movie star.

  “How do you do,” Cee Cee said in a voice that was so polite, it sounded to Bertie like a foreign accent. “I’d like you to meet Harry Chalmers, my accompanist,” she continued, “and my mother, who is here as well. Perhaps you’d like to meet her.”

  Melman nodded.

  Leona adjusted her dress and walked out onto the stage, timidly. Bertie followed a few feet behind.

  “My mother, Leona Bloom. This is Mr. Melman and his wife, Irene,” Cee Cee said. “Oh, and this is Bertie, my younger sister.”

  Bertie flushed. Her sister. Wouldn’t it be something to have a sister like Cee Cee Bloom.

  “You’re very talented, Cee Cee,” Melman said. “And I’d like to arrange for you to come out to California and test for a—”

  Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling noise from the back of the theater and some shouting. Everyone turned to look.

  “Let me in there, Grey, you son of a bitch,” screamed a voice. “Open these lousy doors or I’ll kill somebody, Grey, you bastard.” Just then, one of the doors in the back of the theater crashed open. A skinny, dark-haired woman stood there wild-eyed, surveying the scene at the edge of the stage. Then she charged down the aisle toward the assembled group.

  “You got some guy here from Hollywood, huh, Grey, you no-good? What’s the matter? My Karen’s no good for Hollywood? Three summers you been making her stay up till two in the goddamned morning. Since she was a baby. I ought to report you to the child labor people.”

  “Mrs. Lewandowski,” Jerry Grey said nervously, “this man, Mr. Melman, he asked for Cee Cee.”

  “Cee Cee, my ass. I know he liked my Karen. Handwalks she does. On a lighted staircase. She sings, too. ‘Stairway to Paradise.’ Been doing the act for that ungrateful son of a bitch, three years,” she said, pointing to Grey. “Three shows on the weekend. Then Hollywood comes, and does he give my Karen a chance? Hell, no! Listen, Mr. Melman from Hollywood. What’s the sense of just seeing one kid? You know what I mean? While you’re in the neighborhood, see two kids.”

  No one had moved since Mrs. Lewandowski burst in. Melman adjusted his tie uncomfortably. Harry’s mouth was open in surprise. Leona’s breathing was loud enough for Bertie to hear several feet away.

  “Well, I don’t mind, Jerry. Do you?” Melman asked diplomatically.

  Jerry Grey collected himself. “No. No, Joe. Please. I mean, it’s nice of you. How about your lovely wife. Does she mind?”

  The lovely wife just smiled.

  No one asked Cee Cee if she minded.

  “How long will it take Karen to get ready?” Grey asked.

  “She’s ready now,” Mrs. Lewandowski said.

  All heads turned toward the wings, and there, in a bright yellow sequined leotard, stood tiny Karen Lewandowski. Six. Next to her was a little staircase, which she leaned on expectantly.

  “Hello, Karen,” said Jerry, in a tone completely different from the one he used with Cee Cee. “Come on out, honey,” he said.

  “Hi, Mister Grey,” Karen said in a sweet, baby-girl voice.

  Bertie stared. Karen Lewandowski was the most beautiful child God ever made. Long blond braids, bangs that were perfectly even, big blue eyes, a perfect face, and a tiny athletic-looking body.

  “Need any help, Karen?” Jerry asked.

  “No, sir,” she responded, and gently wheeled her little staircase onto the stage.

  “Hello, Harry,” Karen said, looking into the orchestra pit and waving warmly.

  Harry melted. “Hi, Karen, precious,” he said. “I have your song right on top.”

  “Thank you, Harry,” Karen said. “And thank you, Mister Grey, for giving me the opportunity to present my act before your guests.”

  Bertie looked at Mrs. Lewandowski. She had sat down in the front row when Karen came onstage, and her eyes watched her daughter, knowingly.

  “Clear the stage,” yelled Jerry Grey. He was talking to Bertie, Leona, and Cee Cee.

  Led by Cee Cee, they walked down the steps and sat in the front row. They were lined up now. Mrs. Lewandowski, Bertie, Leona, Cee Cee, Jerry Grey, Melman, and Irene.

  Harry played a few bars of music and Karen walked around to the back of the staircase and turned a switch and the stairs lighted up. Then Karen walked to the top of the staircase and sat down. She put her sweet little face into one of her hands and cocked her head to the side.

  I’ll build a stairway to paradise,

  With a new step every day…

  Bertie peeked out of the corner of her eye at Mrs. Lewandowski, who mouthed each word as her daughter sang.

  When the song was finished, Karen jumped daintily to the stage floor and then, just as daintily, turned upside down and stood on her hands. In this position, she began walking on her hands around the staircase. When she had circled once, she paused for a moment at the bottom of the steps and then, on her hands, walked up the steps. It was something to see.

  Irene Melman applauded. The others sat quietly. When Karen reached the platform at the top of the staircase on her hands, Harry stopped playing. Slowly, Karen brought her feet over her head until she was standing and then she leaned forward onto her hands, lifting her feet over, and then turning over again and again on the platform, until her little body was making such rapid head-over-heels circles that Bertie was reminded of the story of Little Black Sambo. And as the yellow sequins flashed by, Bertie wondered if Karen would turn into a pool of butter. The music peaked and Karen stopped and stood for a moment at the top of the staircase, her face flushed, looking more beautiful than ever. She sang,

  I’ll build a stairway to paradise,

  With a new step…

  She twirled around.

  I said a new step…

  She twirled again.

  That’s right, a new step e-ve-ry day!

  At that, Karen leaped into the air, her tiny legs spread, her toes pointed, and landed on the platform in a perfect split.

  Mrs. Lewandowski applauded. Jerry Grey cheered; Melman and Irene rose to their feet, applauding. Cee Cee, Leona, and Bertie just sat there.

  Karen smiled sweetly. “Thank you. Thank all of you,” she said as she alighted from the staircase, turned off the switch, and pushed the staircase offstage. Mrs. Lewandowski ran up on the stage to help.

  “Why don’t you girls change clothes and come back,” Jerry Grey said to the air.

  Cee Cee got up and walked across the stage. Bertie and Leona followed.

  In the dressing room, Cee Cee changed silently back into her plaid bathing suit. Leona ate the remainder of the sandwiches, and Bertie closed all of the make-up containers and put them neatly into the tool kit. Bertie wanted to tell Cee Cee how wonderful she had been, how she was the best one, and how Mrs. Lewandowski had had some nerve with that big mouth to come in there and push her way into Cee Cee’s audition. But she was afraid to say it, in case maybe it would make Cee Cee feel bad instead of cheering her up.

  Leona hung the red costume on the rack, and the three of them headed back toward the stage.

  Mrs. Lewandowski and Karen were already there. Karen had changed into a white piqué pinafore. They sat in the front row talking to Jerry, Melman, and Irene. Harry was gone. When they saw Cee Cee, they were quiet.

  Cee Cee, Leona, and Bertie sat in the front row, too.

  When they were seated, Joe Melman got up on the stage and walked back and forth as if he was in a play. Then he stopped and looked out at all of them. “Well, now,
” he said. “Well. This was certainly a lucky break for Joe Melman. Yes, it was. Indeed. Visiting here in Atlantic City with my wife, Irene, after a brief business trip to New York, and what do I find? Yep. What do I find? Well, now. After conducting a long and arduous search on the Coast for a child to star in a picture I’m casting, as luck would have it, I happen upon the Jerry Grey Kiddie Show. And…what a wonderful surprise I get when not one child in the show is a great little star…but two. There are two of them. Well, needless to say, I said to myself, ‘Joe, perhaps, now just perhaps, instead of there being just one little girl in the film, perhaps I could have them rewrite the film and have there be two. Two little girls.’ After all, I mean, after all. Here are two wonderful, and I mean that—” Bertie saw him look right at Cee Cee—“both equally wonderful, uh…little actresses. Right?” Melman smiled.

  “But then I thought about it and I said to myself, ‘Joe. Joe Melman. You have been a casting director for quite a few years, despite your tender age.’” Mr. Melman laughed at his own joke. Jerry Grey laughed. Irene Melman smiled. Cee Cee, Bertie, and Leona didn’t react.

  “‘And you know better than that. In spite of the fact that that’s the way you would like to handle this, because they’re both little stars, and they are both great little stars, that’s just not the way it’s done.’ So I’m afraid that one of you is going to have to be disappointed.” Bertie started to sweat. “And, Cee Cee, I’m afraid it will have to be you.”

  Without another word, as if on cue, everyone stood up. Karen stayed very close to her mother, holding on to her skirt. She didn’t look at Cee Cee at all. Jerry Grey walked over and patted Cee Cee on the head, then walked back to Irene, Mrs. Lewandowski, and Karen. Joe Melman joined them, and they walked up the aisle and out of the theater.

  Cee Cee sat down quietly in the center seat in the front row and stared at the stage. Bertie and Leona looked at her silently. The moment the back door of the theater closed, Cee Cee put her head in her hands. Then her tiny red curls began to shake and then to heave and then she let out a giant gasp and then another. When she lifted her head, her made-up face was covered with long, black tracks of mascara, and tears poured from her eyes.