Shirley, I Jest!: A Storied Life (5 page)

That’s when I realized I hadn’t seen a single soul go in or come out of the bar. I also realized that the cars I saw parked here were up on cinder blocks and rusted out, clearly abandoned! Okay, maybe people haven’t gotten here yet, but people may be working inside, setting up. I was about twenty or so feet from the door. The beer sign was bigger than I had originally thought. No one would run up an electric bill to keep a sign this large lit if the place was abandoned. I picked up my pace, but didn’t allow myself to break into a run because running would indicate fear and I had to be brave so I could make the call home and let my family know I was safe. I got to the door.

Forcing myself, I took a deep breath, grabbed the door handle, and pulled.
It was locked!
The buzzing of the neon sign was all I could hear because it was the only noise to cut through the night. I froze. The thought struck me.
I shouldn’t be here
. I did not want to see what was behind me. I had to will my legs to move. When I turned there was nothing except the same desolate gravel parking lot. It seemed even lonelier. Again I thought I shouldn’t be here. I wanted to run but didn’t. I walked methodically back to the road. The adrenaline rush in my blood was almost blinding me. I thought, if I see a car I’m going to flag them down and ask for a ride. When I finally got to the road I didn’t feel any safer. There wasn’t a car in sight. No headlights in either direction. I started walking back toward the motel. I had been walking for a minute or two when I saw headlights speeding in my direction. As the car got closer I raised my arms and started waving them down. They sped past. I picked up my pace. It was dark and cold except for the light of a million stars. Suddenly from behind me, I heard a car. I turned to again see lights coming toward me. The lights got closer and I could see that they were pulling up alongside me and stopping. It was a police car. I stopped. The officer rolled down his window.

“Miss, what are you doing out here?” he asked.

I told him my story and he said, “Get in. I’ll give you a ride. You can’t be out here! There’s a manhunt on! We’ve just had a young girl about your age murdered up the road and we’re looking for the killer.” A chill ran up my spine. I jumped in the car and he dropped me off at the motel, watching me as I hastily ran into my room and bolted the door. I was shaking. The next morning I made sure I called home.

My mother answered and said, “Cindy, thank God! We were getting worried.”

I didn’t tell her about the night before. Just told her how much I was enjoying my experience making the movie.

We moved location and, with that, motels. One night I mentioned that the episode of
Room 222
that I was in was going to be on. Bud Cort (who later would play Harold in Hal Asby’s film
Harold and Maude
) insisted we all watch it. I wasn’t especially happy about having a party for my one line, but Bud and Tally were insisting. And they were like a booster club! From our new motel room we watched “The Substitute Teacher” episode. They applauded when I came on and delivered my line. Personally I was horrified. First of all, my skin
was
orange and second, despite all my efforts, in no way was it humorous. All that going over and over that darn line and look where it got me. I sucked! But I didn’t detect the slightest pause from Bud or Tally. They immediately commented on how good I was.

I finished my three weeks on
Gas-s-s-s
and was sad to leave my newly made friends. Taking the plane home I was much more relaxed about possibly falling from forty thousand feet to the ground. I had just worked in a Roger Corman film! I was in
show
business! I was a
working
actress! And then the plane hit
major
turbulence!

One lucky day my agent got me an audition with Bill Persky and Sam Denoff (creators of the TV show
That Girl!
) for a one-hour musical variety show called
The Funny Side
, hosted by Gene Kelly. I had loved him since I was a little girl and I saw him and Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor in
Singin’ in the Rain
. The thought of working with him was almost too good to be true. But it was going to be true, because I got the job. And I got the job because of the way I read one specific line. The setup was something like, “How did you know I was rich?” My line was, “Oh, I don’t know, your alligator shoes?”

Bill and Sam told me that I was the only one who had put a question mark at the end of the line and made the joke work. The premise of the show was to take one subject each week and look at the funny side through five different couples using comedy sketches and musical numbers: a husband-and-wife couple played by John Amos and Teresa Graves; a blue-collar husband and wife played by Warren Berlinger and Pat Finley; the comedy team of Dick Clair and Jenna McMahon played the affluent husband and wife; and Bert Mustin and Queenie Smith played the elderly husband and wife.

It was like old home week for me because Michael Lembeck and I played the teenage husband and wife and we had been in the Theatre Arts department at LACC together. Michael Lembeck had a wonderful sense of humor and could sing and dance. I felt a great relief to be teamed with him because he was always solid, always encouraging, and never judgmental when I was off-key or out of step! And believe me there were many times when I was just that! The first day of rehearsal we met Gene Kelly, the host of the show. He asked us all to call him “Gene.” I couldn’t stop staring at him; all I could think of was
Singin’ in the Rain
,
Brigadoon
, and
An American in Paris
.

We shot at NBC studios in the Valley. The soundstage was next to
The Tonight Show
’s. Sometimes I’d wander over there just to look at Johnny Carson’s desk or into their prop department and sometimes I’d imagine myself on the show with Johnny. This was about to become a reality because our musical director had written a number for Michael and me to perform on
The Funny Side
called, “Naders Raiders,” a tribute to Ralph Nader. Coincidentally Ralph Nader was scheduled to appear on
The Tonight Show
. Bill and Sam, along with NBC, came up with the idea to have Michael and I perform the song on
The Tonight Show
for Ralph Nader. I didn’t want to do it. Really we hadn’t rehearsed enough or done it on our own show yet. But everybody was so keen on it, what could I say? I just kept rehearsing with Michael. They called us over to
The
Tonight Show
soundstage to rehearse. We realized we were shaky on the number. Now I think Michael was questioning it also, but we couldn’t turn back. Then God, in his infinite wisdom, intervened. Our number was bumped because, with all the guests they had appearing, the show was running too long and there wouldn’t be enough time to perform it. Thank you, Lord! We were both more than relieved.

Gene Kelly was very kind to me. One time he and I had a verse to sing together. During rehearsal he told me that we sang alike. We weren’t great singers, but could carry a tune and sound pleasing. Gene choreographed a little dance move to go with the verse we sang together. When we shot the number it was amazing. We did sound great together. He wrapped his arms around me. We swayed and sang, and then I realized I was standing on his foot.

One week our guest star was Jack Benny. Michael and I had a little scene with him and Gene. I had forgotten to take the gum out of my mouth before rehearsal. And at one point I absentmindedly blew a bubble while Jack was going through his dialogue. He used it and did one of his fabulous double-takes. Everyone laughed. He asked me if I would do it again and blow a bubble for him when we shot the show.
Well, of course I would!
Oh my goodness, setting up one of Jack Benny’s fabulous takes! What a privilege. I was so blessed to be on this show, but sadly, after only thirteen weeks, NBC canceled it. However it wasn’t the last time I would work with the most wonderful Gene Kelly.

In 1972 I was called in to meet with George Cukor to read for the part of Tooley in
Travels with My Aunt
, which would eventually star Maggie Smith and Alec McCowen. I’d read the book by Graham Green beforehand and had studied the lines to the best of my ability. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t. He knew exactly what he wanted and expected you to deliver just that. He was blunt and told you exactly what he thought about you.

George Cukor is famously known for his talent in directing women. At the time his dear friend Katharine Hepburn was set to play the part of Aunt Augusta. I wasn’t nervous at all when I went in. In fact I was unusually calm. I waited for my turn at bat in the outer reception area. The door to Mr. Cukor’s office opened. An actress came flying out. She looked at me for a second and then fled out the door. Had I seen tears in her eyes? I put down the magazine I’d been thumbing through, reached into my purse, pulled out the script, and started to study it immediately.

“Cindy, you can go in,” the secretary said.

I felt my heart rate rise!

George Cukor was standing. He never sat during the entire audition. He held the script. He would first peer at it and then at me, analyzing both of us. His scrutiny was made sharper by the bifocals that sat on the end of his nose. Each lens was like a
spyglass
! He wanted to hear me read almost immediately; no chitchat! I read the scene with someone he had provided. I didn’t think I was very good when I was done. He gave me a gaze again, over his spyglasses. Okay! I’ll admit it, I was afraid of him, but at the same time I was mesmerized. He was a strict and disciplined director who expected perfection from actors. I was still a rookie. I was so happy to leave and head home, away from Mr. Cukor’s spyglass gaze! I had almost forgotten about the audition when a week later, my agent called with news that I had the part. It was difficult for me to believe.

By this time Maggie Smith had replaced Katharine Hepburn as Aunt Augusta. I had been so over the moon at being in a movie that starred Katharine Hepburn and now in heaven being in a movie with Maggie Smith. I landed in Madrid jet-lagged and exhausted. In the last three days I had been cast as Tooley, gotten my very first passport, packed my suitcases, and was off to live in Madrid for two months. I’ll never forget the address of the apartment the production company had arranged for me to stay in while I shot my part in
Travels
.
Trente y tres
Dr. Fleming Street. The apartment was in Madrid, a little on the outskirts. The street had a lively nightlife and a charming café next door.

I was on the sixth floor. Thumping disco music could faintly be heard from within the building somewhere. I was exhausted and went straight to my tiny bedroom. I only unpacked my nightgown and my toothbrush. I gave my teeth a good brushing, changed clothes and climbed into my bed. Before I could close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep, I became aware that someone was walking around in the room above me. They obviously were wearing high heels. Their floor, like mine, was wooden, not carpeted.

Click, click, click, click, click
went the heels. Then again,
click, click, click.

Then they stopped.

Silence.

Next I heard what sounded like a long string of pearls being dropped into a dish. I thought that this must be my upstairs neighbor coming home from perhaps the disco.
Click, click, click, click, click,
once again. I hoped she’d take those shoes off and get in bed. I needed to be up in the morning to meet Anthony Powell, the costume designer. He was taking me wardrobe shopping for the film.

Click, click
and then silence for a moment.

Next, I swear I heard her unzip whatever frock she was wearing. I mean, I assumed it was a dress given the pearls. I heard her drop her shoes to the floor.

Finally!
We can both go to sleep.

But wait! What’s this?

Another set of feet, not heels this time, maybe loafers. They scuffled for a minute and then I could hear them also being dropped on the floor.

Ah! She’s married!

Now all seemed quiet as I snuggled in. I’d brought my own pillow. Then, squeaking!

Oh no! Oh no!
Please don’t tell me they’re getting romantic!

And, indeed they were, and for about ten minutes the squeaking prevailed. Then, silence.

They were off to sleep!

But no, wait. They were up.

Zip! Click, click, click, click, click.

Heels crossing the room and then loafers crossing the room. And pearls being taken out of the dish. Then two sets of feet left the bedroom.

Click, click, click, click, click,
and the door closed.

It was midnight in Madrid! I had to get to sleep and I finally did.

Downstairs in the small lobby the next morning as I waited for the car to pick me up, I met Antonio the doorman. I immediately struck a bond with him. He was about forty, charming and friendly. I could only speak “pigeon” Spanish. But still, we communicated somehow with great ease. Then I met Clautilde, the switchboard operator who was from Barcelona, who spoke with a King Philippe lisp. I loved her immediately.

“Nice to meet you, Clautilde.”

“Nithe to meet yoo, too, Theendy.”

I stepped out of my building and into the car that had pulled up to take me to meet the wardrobe designer, Anthony Powell. Antonio held the door for me. At the same time a gypsy woman holding a baby followed by two young daughters came rushing up asking me for centavos. The baby reached out to me with one arm and the hand open as if begging. I started to reach into my purse when Antonio shooed them away. He looked at me and shook his finger back and forth as if to say
don’t engage with them
. I felt sorry for them, and I knew if they sought me out again I would help them. It would just have to be away from the ever-watchful eye of Antonio.

I’m not, nor have I ever been, a fashionista by any stretch of the imagination. But shopping in Madrid for my character’s wardrobe with Anthony Powell and being a size two was an incredible experience. (A little note here: Anthony would go on to win an Oscar for best costume design for
Travels with My Aunt.
) Anthony had a great wit as well as style. We shopped all afternoon!