Ella of All-of-a-Kind Family (11 page)

Their entrance music! Ella forced a smile to her lips, and with the precision born of much practice, led the line of prancing ponies out.

Suddenly, how marvelous it was! The lights—the scenery—the people out there. They had actually paid to see her.
Silly though the act might be, nothing mattered now except that she was performing.

The act was going well, she could sense it. Time now for her solo. As she began, Ella could feel an immediate response from the audience. All rustlings, all whisperings ceased. It was as if out there beyond the footlights, people were caught up completely by what she was telling them. The applause at the end was like a bouquet of their appreciation and made Ella glow with happiness and pride.

When the act was over, everybody was hilariously happy. “They liked it!” “We wowed them!” There were hugs and kisses, pats on the back, and impromptu jigs all along the hallway and into the dressing room.

“It went so fast!” Ella confided breathlessly to Sally. “It seemed to be over before we even got started.” She shook her head. “To think of the weeks it took to rehearse.”

“Hmm,” Sally sniffed, “wait till you’ve done the act a couple of hundred times. It won’t be short enough.”

But for now, Ella would not let anything dampen her elation. “Yes, but at every performance the audience will be different. That should make it interesting—challenging.”

Sally’s lips twitched in a smile but she said nothing.

As the week progressed, the glow still clung. Ella did not seem to mind the long waits between shows—so much time on their hands yet never enough to get too far away from the theatre. To compensate there was the friendly exchange with members of the other acts, the fun of invading a nearby lunchroom with the troupe still in makeup and the stares of the other diners. Even the long ride home each night was not dull when shared with such a lively bunch of fellow actors.

Yet in the midst of the flow of impressions pouring in on her, the thought of Jules kept recurring like a beloved refrain. She had not heard from him all week. But tomorrow was Saturday. He was coming up to see the last show.

Her musings were interrupted by a surprise visitor in the dressing room. It was Mr. Woods and he was all smiles.

“I caught the act tonight,” he said, pumping Ella’s hand. “You were okay! Okay! You came across those footlights just like I figured!”

After he left, Ella tried hard to hold on to his words so full of promise even as the vision of Jules rose before her. Had Jules missed her? Had he been lonesome for her? Could he have gone out with someone else? A mothwing of jealousy brushed against her. Oh no! He couldn’t! He wouldn’t!

All through the Saturday-night show, Ella kept wishing she could pierce the curtain of darkness beyond the footlights. Jules was out there! What was he thinking about all this? Oh, I just can’t wait to see him!

The moment the curtain came down, she dashed up the stairs, removed her makeup, and hastily redressed. She was out the stage door before anyone else.

There he was, coming toward her. Her heart gave a little skip. How handsome he was! So clean-cut, his deep blue eyes bright now with the gladness of seeing her. Catching hold of her in his strong arms, he gazed down at her face as if he could never be done with looking. She laughed a little, averting her head, breathless with ardor and embarrassment.

With evident pride, yet with a touch of shyness, she introduced him to the company as they emerged through
the door. The girls swarmed about him like a flock of bees. “You’re kinda cute. You haven’t got a brother by any chance?” “Say, kid, where’d you pick this one up?”

Somewhat abashed by their good-natured jibing, Jules’s face reddened. And then Jack came by.

“Hiya, son!” he said, giving Jules a resounding slap on the back. “Ouch!” He grimaced comically, shaking his fingers. “This boy’s got muscles. My hand’s busted!”

Ella could see Jules stiffen. “It’s getting late,” she said quickly. “We’d better be going.”

“So long, Jules.” “Come see us again!” Smiles, a wave of the hand, and a broad wink from Sally. Jules tipped his hat to the girls, nodded to Jack, and off they went.

As they reached the corner, Jules pursed his lips and exhaled slowly. Sensing his unspoken criticism, Ella bridled with a strange rush of loyalty. I’m like a mother, she thought in silent vexation—a mother who can say anything she likes about her child’s shortcomings. But just let anyone else point them out …

“I know you think they’re kind of crude, Jules. So they are. But you’ve got to understand all kinds of people and accept them for what they are. Besides, I’ve found out that underneath their rough speech and flashy appearance, they’re really nice. They’re warmhearted and generous. Good sports, too. And certainly hardworking.”

Jules looked at her. “You needn’t apologize for them. I’m no snob.”

“I wasn’t apologizing,” she returned. “Just explaining.” She broke off abruptly, suddenly feeling very tired. She had so looked forward to this night. Now see how, right at the start, they were pulling apart again. She tried to smile. “I must admit I don’t care too much for that Jack.”

“That makes two of us,” Jules affirmed with conviction.

He hasn’t mentioned one word about my performance, Ella fretted. Well, she wouldn’t ask him. And then in the next moment, she found herself saying, “Well? How did I do?”

“You were very good.”

“But?”

“It’s not exactly like singing in the Temple choir.” He stared straight ahead. “Last year when I was in the army and the High Holy Days came around, I kept remembering how we both used to sing together in the Temple. And I’d think—Well, maybe next year. I guess …” His voice sounded despondent. “… it won’t be this year either.”

Ella tried to change the conversation. “How’s your job?” she ventured.

“Oh, all right. The work’s pretty routine but the place is pleasant enough.”

“I suppose you can’t wait till fall when you’ll be back at school.”

He nodded. “I’m anxious to get going. It’ll be good for me. Keep my mind off …” He turned his head away and scanned the dark shapes of the brownstone buildings along the street.

It’s no use, Ella realized unhappily. No matter what we talk about, we always come back to the same thing.

On the long subway ride home, they tried to cover the gulf between themselves with small talk. From the station to Ella’s house they walked, arms linked, but their thoughts were separate and lonely. It’s been so hopeless—the whole evening, Ella brooded. Her inward lament sounded louder in her ears than the echo of their footsteps on the pavement.

They were at her door. She raised her face to his. Her voice low, she asked, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes.”

Their eyes met. He opened his arms and she went into them. For the moment, the emptiness was gone. He kissed her softly on the lips. “Good-bye, till tomorrow.”

Ella turned swiftly so that he would not see her tears.

“You’re stuck on that Jules, aren’t you?” Sally remarked as they were getting ready for the act.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, he’s certainly nuts about you. It’s written all over him.” Sally waved her powder puff at Ella. “Listen, kid, take my advice and grab him. His kind doesn’t come our way often, believe me.”

“You ever think about getting married, Sally?”

“What girl doesn’t?”

“But suppose you did get married, would you go on with your career?”

Sally looked thoughtfully into the mirror as she outlined her eyes with black pencil. “I don’t know. If the man I married was in the theatre, I guess I would. But then, if we had kids—” she shook her head. “It sure would complicate things. I’ve seen lots of those marriages. Mothers parking their babies in dresser drawers in hotels and in baskets in the dressing rooms. The poor babies constantly being dragged around from town to town. Then when they’re ready for school, stickin’ ’em away somewhere with relatives while you have to go traipsin’ around the country. Never gettin’ a chance to be with them.” She
spread out her arms. “Now I ask you, what kinda life is that for a family?”

Ella twisted uneasily. “But suppose you met someone who wanted to marry you that wasn’t in show business?”

“So if I liked him enough, I’d marry him.” Her husky voice grew almost wistful. “Yeah. It might be kinda nice havin’ a home of my own with a husband and a coupla kids runnin’ around the house.”

“But Sally, you once told me you’d rather be in the theatre than do anything else in the whole world.”

“Did I?” Sally laughed boisterously. “Maybe that’s because I ain’t never yet met Mr. Right.”

Ella slumped in her seat. Will I ever know what I really want?

That same afternoon, the family, the Healys, and Bill witnessed Ella’s performance for the first time. Afterward they all came trooping backstage.

“Gee Ella, it was swell!” Gertie was the first to proclaim.

“We saw the show twice. Before the movie and after the movie.”

Bill laughed. “And we enjoyed your performance both times.”

Grace hugged her. “I feel so proud, Ella. It’s thrilling to think that my best friend is a star on the stage!”

Charlie meanwhile was capering around like a young colt. “Ella you looked so funny dressed up like a little girl,” he squealed.

“It was nice. Very nice,” Papa added with a reassuring nod.

“Just nice, Papa? Why I thought it was marvelous!” Henny cried. She uttered a sigh of pure envy. “They all seemed to be having such a grand time. Boy, what a great
way to earn a living!” Suddenly inspired, she gripped Ella by the arm. “Say, why couldn’t I be in an act like that? I can sing and dance as well as any one of those girls. Ella, you’ll have to introduce me to the director!”

“Before you start making any plans for the future, first get through with high school,” Mama said sharply. “Right now, one actress in the family is quite enough.”

There was something in Mama’s face that troubled Ella. I have the feeling she’s not too happy with what I’m doing. Neither is Papa.

“You were so good, Ella,” Sarah spoke up. “Only I wish they’d given you a real chance to show off your voice. You know. To sing something really nice.”

“Well, maybe some day they will,” Charlotte observed.

For the second week, the company moved on to another theatre in Brooklyn. Once again there were the slap-dash run-through, the backstage clutter, the heated arguments, the piling into a crowded dressing room—a dingy replica of the previous one—and finally the performance, despite all frustrations, running smoothly. Was it only a week ago that I was so bursting with excitement? Ella reflected through the mist of depression that clung to her. Only during those moments when she was actually performing did she feel her spirit lifting.

One morning, several days after the act moved to Yonkers, Ella came into the kitchen for her late breakfast. “Good morning, Mama,” she said with forced heartiness.

“Good morning, Ella,” Mama replied, pouring her some orange juice and measuring coffee into the percolator. “How’s everything going?”

“Oh, the same. We move from one theatre to another,
but nothing really changes. There are other acts on the bill, but they don’t seem much different. Last week the animal act was dogs and monkeys. This week it’s a dancing bear. Last week, the song-and-dance team wore spats and straw hats and sporting canes. This week, it’s baggy trousers with silly-looking caps. But the jokes they crack sound the same, and the soft-shoe routine is the same. Most of it is the same business over and over.”

“It’s not exactly the kind of thing that any of us had hoped for,” Mama remarked.

Ella avoided Mama’s glance. She touched her finger to the bowl of a spoon and traced its smooth shiny edge round and round. At length she looked up with some composure.

“I know, Mama”—she tried to frame the words carefully—“but we weren’t any of us realistic. How else could I have gotten started? In opera? Not a chance! Maybe if I were to spend years with the finest teachers here, then go abroad for further study, it might possibly come to something. But that would cost a fortune! And where would we get that kind of money?”

She sipped at her orange juice. “And as for the concert stage,” she went on, hoping her voice did not sound as dismal as she felt, “what manager would take a chance on a complete unknown with no experience? No. This is the only way for me. Actually I ought to consider myself lucky. There are loads of young people around singing their hearts out, and never getting a chance like this,” she finished bleakly.

Mama’s eyes were on her. Those candid, penetrating eyes. Surely they could see the conflict churning within her. As if from nowhere a whisper came—should I give it
all up? The very thought was appalling. I can’t! I’ve got a dream by the tail and I just can’t let go. All the time I’ve spent! All the years! The money it’s cost. It’s unthinkable.

She stared down at the plate set before her. Mama had prepared the eggs exactly the way she liked them best. There were fresh crusty rolls too, spread with sweet butter.… Funny how your throat constricts when you’re upset. She forced a mouthful down, then pushed the plate away.

“Aren’t you feeling well?” Mama asked, a worried pucker forming between her eyes.

“Oh no! I’m fine!” Ella made a great effort at lightness. “Just not hungry.”

“It seems to me you’re never hungry lately,” Mama said. She sat down at the table across from Ella, the knuckles of her hand pressed against her cheek. “Ella, I don’t like the way you look. You’re getting thin. And those dark circles under your eyes. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mama!” Ella flung out. “Please, stop fussing over me! I’m just too excited to eat—or sleep—that’s all! It’s all been so new and everything. I’ll get used to it.”

Will I? Will I ever? Abruptly she pushed her chair back. “I’m sorry, Ma, but I have to go. I’ll be late.”

It was the evening of a final performance in Hoboken. In the dressing room, Ella tried vainly to concentrate on a book amid the banter shuffling back and forth around her.

“Listen, Irene, the feller I’m goin’ out with tonight, he’s got a friend. A real nice guy and he likes redheads especially. So how’s about it?”