Fame (15 page)

The child nodded, her curly black hair bouncing with every shake.

“Okay, why don’t you tell me.” Katy’s voice was far calmer than she felt. They had two scenes to get through tonight, and the “Big Missouri” song was taking far too long. She raised her eyebrows, encouraging the child to answer.

“The turning makes me dizzy.” The girl put her finger in her mouth and let it hang over her lip. “When I feel dizzy, I fall.”

“Yep!” From across the stage the other young girl nodded. feel dizzy too.”

“Fine.” Katy straightened. She clapped and grinned at both 117

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“Let’s do this. As soon as you get on the boys’ shoulders, you close your eyes and hold on. I think that’ll work.” It worked brilliantly. The next time through the song, they marched out, made their turns at the right time in the right direction. When the human wheels set to motion on either side of the stage, the girls were hoisted into the air, hands outstretched above their heads, smiling big, and eyes closed. Neither girl fell.

“Good!” Katy ran back onstage and gave the two girls and boys all high fives. “We’ve got the big wheels.” She looked at Rhonda. “Could you get Al and Nancy? Tell them it’s

to block the first scene.”

Rhonda leaned in, her voice low. “First tell me about Dayne Has he called?”

“No.” Katy waved her off. She didn’t want to talk about her crazy trip to Los Angeles. Not now. “He’s not calling. It’s been long.” She looked at her watch. “Better get Al and Nancy.

g out of time.”

Rhonda hesitated. “He’ll call.” She didn’t wait for Katy’s re-muse but rather did as she asked, as Katy began calling the lead to the stage.

The opening scene in Tom Sawyer involved passengers g the Big Missouri. Among the passengers was the family, including Becky, played by Sarah Jo Stryker. watched the girl as the characters came onstage, holding

and waving at the townspeople gathered on either side. This would be Katy’s first chance to see if SarahJo could act.

The Thatcher family lined up, and when the character Becky ;iwas introduced, she gave a demure smile and then angled her marbles with th

i body so she could see Tom Sawyer, shooting e if ‘boys on stage right. off . Tim Reed, playing Tom, grabbed his straw hat and stood up, his eyes wide as he surveyed Becky for the first time. He walked to her and held out his hand. ‘I m Tom.’ He straightened

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himself a little. “Tom Sawyer. Tell me about yourself, Miss Becky Thatcher.”

The next ninety seconds were all Sarah Jo. She knew her lines perfectly, including the spacing and inflection necessary to convey the idea that she was both excited and anxious about meeting Tom Sawyer.

But halfway through her lines, her mother—who had been milling around the back of the sanctuary with the other parents—moved to the front row and began coaching Sarah Jo. “Louder! You need to project or you’ll never make it. Do you hear me? Project!”

Katy’s mouth fell open. This was the first time she’d seen this behavior—the theater version of the obsessed Little League parent—in CKT. She was about to say something when Rhonda touched her elbow.

“What’s that woman doing?” Rhonda hissed the question close to Katy’s ear.

“She’s mining the scene.”

Mrs. Stryker stood up and positioned herself a few feet from Sarah Jo. “More expression!” She made a frustrated sound. “Don’t you remember what the acting instructor told you last year?” At this point the woman wasn’t even trying to keep her voice down. Her stream of criticisms had caught the attention of the other kids onstage. She continued undaunted. “You’re the lead part, Sarah Jo.

Now get into character or get off the stage.”

Sarah Jo responded with a louder voice, but the character’s charm dissolved in the distraction. She no longer looked like a natural talent giving her first impression of a series of lines, but a nervous child unsure of her next move.

Suddenly Mrs. Stryker seemed to realize that she was making a spectacle of herself, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. Twice more she murmured criticisms, and the last time Sarah Jo broke character and looked at her mother.

“What, Mama? I can’t hear you.”

Finally Katy waved her hand at the cast. “Take five.”

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Every one of the kids was aware of the conflict taking place between Sarah Jo and her mother. They kept their voices low as i7ey slinked off the stage toward the lobby, where other mothers ci prepared a snack for them. A few of them looked back at Sai#)iah jo as they left, their eyes wide. Bailey Flanigan caught Katy’s

:and mouthed, Poor girl!

nodded, disgusted.

join the kids. Instead she walked sheepishly off stage and sat next to her mother in the front row. Even then

Stryker didn’t seem to know she was the reason for the She bent her head close to Sarah Jo’s, her mouth moving as quickly as before. Whatever she was saying, her expres was tense and angry.

Sarah Jo did a series of understanding

as she listened.

.!, , Katy felt sick to her stomach.

She didn’t waste another moment as she walked to the first pew and stood in front of Sarah Jo and her mother. “Excuse me.” ‘ When Mrs. Stryker looked up, an instant smile replaced her frown. “Hello, Katy.” She patted Sarah Jo on the hand. “Just giving my daughter some pointers.” She crossed her legs and sat back a little. “You know, things her acting coach or her agent has , said time and again.” Mrs. Stryker laughed—an attempt to lift the mood, no doubt. “Sarah Jo’s very, very talented. I think we lean all agree on that.”

She smiled at her daughter and looked back at Katy. “But these—” she waved her arm over her head as if she were brushing

away a fly—”kids’ plays are like drama courses for Sarah Jo. i She has to get better with each part she plays or she won’t be up to par when her break comes.” Mrs. Stryker took hold of her daughter’s hand and shrugged. “She has to be ready when fame COmes knocking. We know for sure it’s coming.”

Katy wanted to slap the woman. She gave Sarah Jo a sympathetic look and patted her shoulder. “Honey, why don’t you go have a snack with the other kids. Your mom and I need to talk.”

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“Okay.” She glanced at her mother. “Is that all right, Mama?”

Mrs. Striker exhaled hard but managed a smile. “Yes, dear, go ahead. We can talk after the break.”

When Sarah Jo was out of earshot, Katy sat down next to Alice Stryker and looked her straight in the eyes. She could feel her blood boiling. “What just happened here can never happen again, Mrs. Stryker. Is that understood?”

Shock darkened the woman’s expression, and her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She made an indignant sound. “I have a right to talk to my daughter, Miss Hart.”

Katy had to work to keep her voice down. “Actually, you have the right to stay in the back with the other parents. When we’re blocking a scene, it’s my job to make corrections and direct the children.” She pictured Sarah Jo’s defeated look, the way her shoulders had slumped with every critical word from her mother. “From now on you will stay in the back; is that clear?”

“Sarah Jo needs more than the direction of some—” she waved her hand at Katy—”young girl like yourself. She needs professional direction, and I’ve seen enough of that to know what advice to give.”

“Mrs. Stryker, you demoralized your daughter. She was just finding her way, just discovering her part when you started criticizing her.” Katy leaned closer, desperate to make her point. “Sarah Jo will never amount to anything in the business of drama if you don’t let her find her way.”

Alice Stryker was on her feet. “Don’t you dare say that about my daughter! One day she’ll be more famous than anyone in this theater. Then everyone will be glad I worked her so hard. If you don’t let me do it here, I’ll do it from home.

Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. That’s the price for fame, and I’m willing to pay it.”

“But…” Katy was breathless, and as she stood, she felt dizzy from the strength of the woman’s venom. ‘What if Sarah Jo isn’t willing to pay it?” Her voice fell, her anger and frustration ring

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ing from every word. “What if she wants to enjoy children’s theater today because she’s a child?” She reined in her thoughts and emotions. “Do you know how many girls would’ve liked the part of Becky Thatcher?”

Alice lifted her chin, superiority working its way up to her brow. “Sarah Jo is not any other girl. She’s different, special.” She clutched her purse to her waist. “She’ll be a star one day, and then you’ll understand.”

Without giving Katy a chance to respond further, Alice Stryker strode to the back of the church, through the double doors, and into the lobby. Probably to give Sarah Jo another dose of correction. Katy watched her go and then looked down at her knees. She was shaking. Was it that important, the idea that every part, every day of practice had to be held at a certain level in order to bring about stardom for Sarah Jo?

Katy was still standing there, stunned, when Rhonda returned. She approached Katy and whispered, “Everyone’s talking about it—parents, kids. Everyone.”

“If that’s what it takes to make it big, why bother?” Katy shuddered. “That woman is determined to take all the fun out of it for Sarah Jo. All that’s left is hard work and an obsession for stardom. It’s not worth it.” Katy looked down at her notes again. She had to get back to the rehearsal. They were already behind. “Let’s get going.”

The kids were called to the stage, and Katy picked up the scene where they’d left off. This time Alice Stryker kept her distance, but twice Katy looked over her shoulder at the woman and saw a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other.

Katy’s heart ached. Whatever notes Sarah Jo’s mother was taking couldn’t be encouraging. Not based on the things they’d all heard her tell her daughter earlier.

Still, with Alice Stryker relegated to the back of the sanctuary, they were able to block the scene without a hitch. Most of the children with speaking parts knew their lines, and no one else

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was injured during the repeat of the “Big Missouri” dance nun> her at the end of practice.

At just after eight thirty, Katy had the kids sit on the stage. “Acting is many things to many people.” She made sure to look at kids seated in all sections of the stage, but she paid particular attention to Sarah Jo Stryker. “For some of you, it’s a chance

to gain experience for something bigger down the road. Others here treat theater like an after-school club, someplace fun hang out. No matter why you’re here, there are three things I’d like you to remember.” She smiled at Sarah Jo.

“First, theater is about having fun.” She resisted the urge to look at Alice Striker. “We’re putting on something called a play, and it’s called that because what we’re doing up here—” she raised her hands and did a little jump—”is playing. It’s supposed to be fun!”

She settled back down and looked around the stage again. “Second, theater is about sharing.” Katy bent down and tapped on the hard surface of the stage. “You don’t get up here to tell the world, ‘Hey, look how good I am!’” Katy shook her head.

you get up here to become someone else, to figure out their world and their character, and to give everything you’ve got to that part.” She scanned the faces before her. “Anyone know how come?”

Bailey Flanigan was one of several older kids to raise their hands. Katy pointed to her. “Bailey?”

“Because it takes every actor onstage to bring the story to life. You have to find your character if the show’s going to be any good.”

“Exactly.” Katy pretended to slip into character and began belting out the words to one of Tom Sawyer’s solos. She puffed out her chest, lifted her chin, and exaggerated the pronunciation of each word. Singing was a strength for Katy, so the sound was good. But after two lines, the kids were snickering. She stopped and allowed herself a brief smile. “Okay, someone tell me whether that was a giving performance or a selfish one.”

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Tim Reed’s hand was up first, and Katy pointed at him. “Selfish. Definitely selfish.”

“Okay, but why?” Katy loved this, loved the way the kids responded to her. It was part of what she did, not only leading kids through the creation of a play but also teaching them about theater. Especially the kids like Sarah Jo Stryker, whose parents saw children’s theater as only a means to an end.

Tim stood so he could be heard better. “It’s selfish because when you were singing you were all about yourself. Like you were the only one on the stage and you wanted everyone to know you had a good voice.”

“Right.” Katy could sense the parents getting antsy in the back of the sanctuary. She had about a minute to wrap things up. “Instead of singing a solo the way you’d sing it at a voice recital, when you’re part of a play, you let the character sing it. That way the message is acted out, and it moves the story to another level. That’s what we mean by sharing.” She held up three fingers.

“The third thing is pretty simple. At CKT we do theater to bring glory and honor to Jesus Christ. Anyone want to say a little more about that?”

Ashley Zarelli raised her hand, and Katy nodded in her direction. Ash stood and smiled. If she was nervous she didn’t show it. “Well,Jesus gave us our talents.

A lot of time people use their ‘,.. talents against God.” She did a cute shrug.

“Here I think every!: one understands that without the Lord we’d be nothing.

Each performance is a chance to do our best with the talents God’s given us. Then somewhere up in heaven we can be sure He’s giv”:: ing us a standing ovation.”

“Perfect.” Katy clapped once and gestured to the kids to gather around her.

“Great practice, everyone.”

The boys and girls were drawing close when little Mary Reed tugged on Katy’s shirtsleeve. “Katy…”

“Yes, honey?” She bent down so she could hear Mary over the noise of the other kids.

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“I love you, Katy.” Mary looked up, her eyes seeing straight to Katy’s heart.

“Thanks for teaching us.”