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Leave it to the uninitiated to think that “Lauren” is your real name. I got to the Lycée Francaise at 11:30 on Saturday morning like my coded instructions told me to, but I still didn’t know what I was supposed to be looking for. “Keep your eyes and ears open.” Great. I’m having an anxiety attack and Lee Meyerhoff thinks she’s Yoda. “Use the Force, Luke.” To play it safe I brought my French book along, so that any time a teacher passed me in the hall, I’d lower my head and flip through the pages so they’d think I was looking for “ou est le bureau de poste,” “je m’appelle Barbra,” or preferably eighteen conjugations of “I love you, Andy.” The Lycée actually surprised me—it looks just like any other school. I was expecting little Eiffel Towers and Arcs de Triomphe on the walls and souflettes in the cafeteria. The only thing that snapped me out of my panic was that somebody was playing the Chorus Line CD at the end of the hall, and theyd picked the Prince Charming of all showstoppers—“The Music and the Mirror”—to listen to first. So I stuck my head back in my book and “comment allez-voused” my way in that direction, figuring I’d hang out and listen until my eyes and ears found what they were supposed to find. Which would have been a plan if I hadn’t peeked through the window in the classroom door and suddenly realized that what I really needed to learn was how to say “holy shit” in French. Alé. Alé in tights and a leotard, belting out the number while a dozen other kids sat around her and watched. You mean it’s not the CD?? No, it was an old lady on a piano, but Alé made her sound like a sixteen-piece orchestra. And that was just the appetizer—because after the last verse was over, she hitch-kicked to her left, lunged into the dance, and turned into Donna McKechnie right in front of my eyes and ears. I’ve watched the DVD a hundred times from when Donna did the number on TV, and Alé must have seen it too—except that her legs have a photographic memory and mine don’t. She didn’t miss a step. Not one. Why hasn’t she told me she could do these things? She’s more fabulous than I am! Then she happened to twirl in my direction—and stopped dead in her tracks mid-pirouette when she saw me staring through the window with my jaw hanging open onto French linoleum. Busted! She didn’t look too happy. I don’t blame her.
AugieHwong: If you don’t call me back, I’m coming over there and breaking in through one of your stained glass windows. I may be too short for that gesture, but I’m doing it anyway. AlePerez: The answer is no. I said I’d help you produce and I did. I crunched the numbers, I distributed the posters, I okayed the programs, and I didn’t vomit on Stu Merliss. That’s all we agreed to. AugieHwong: Yeah, and that was also before I found out you were Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly combined. You’re closing the show with “Music and the Mirror,” so get used to it. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me when I’ve spilled so much of my own blood for art. AlePerez: Get over yourself. My parents don’t know about my secret life and they’re not going to. Maybe in another fifty years. And what were you doing there an hour and a half early anyway?? AugieHwong: They don’t even need to find out about it. Tell them you have a sleepover with one of the girls that night. I’ll call them myself and use my Celeste Holm voice. It never fails. NOW will you do “The Music and the Mirror”? No, of course she won’t do “The Music and the Mirror.” Her mom and dad won’t let her because it might upset the Prince of Greenland. Like there’s actually a need for Greenland. You can get ice at 7-Eleven. I’m dressing her in Donna McKechnie Red with a slit down the right thigh, and one way or another I’m getting her mirrors. Screw the budget. What difference will it make when we’re fielding nineteen curtain calls? And since she obviously won’t cooperate with any degree of professionalism, it’s going to have to be done the cheap and tacky way. Like accidentally taking the programs to Kinko’s tonight instead of Monday. It’s for her own good anyway. “Alé, I’m sorry. Somehow they got their hands on the copy two days early. How did that happen? Please unlock the computer closet. It’s very warm in here and I can’t get out.” Watch. I’ll probably have to drag her to the Tony Awards too.
Augie |
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