“Hey! Get out the street!”
These are the first words I’ve heard directed at me all morning. I’ve been walking all over town on my way in this morning, passing the time, listening to the sounds of the hustle and bustle and honking, settling down from the overwhelming feeling of discontent that's been eating away at me the last several days.
I snap back to reality as I delicately cross one ankle over the other and do a little curtsy for the man behind the steering wheel. Part of me wishes I could say something back, something strong, something biting – but one look at the shocked and angry expression slowly building across his face and I know that I’ve already done enough. My Midwestern manners will suffice for now - even if they are a tad tongue-in-cheek.
I continue with a little skip over a puddle near the sidewalk and bounce up to my usual haunt, suddenly renewed by what just came out of me.
I can see the gates of Paramount to my right…but I turn the other way and walk another block to the shop. I can sense a car behind me making a turn towards the entrance. I think again about crouching down next to it and sneaking my way in. Whether I successfully made my way onto an active set or simply got hauled off by the police - at least I'd be going somewhere new.
It's funny how things once so fresh and exciting change over time, becoming these intense feelings of doubt and dread. I'm lucky enough to be getting by right now - but I don't want to just get by. I want more.
What was I ever thinking I would do when I got here? I have no friends, no family, no real talent beyond my dreams. I’ve been wasting my time, waiting for an opportunity, not taking any real steps forward. And for what? So I can get by in some crummy apartment that smells like cigarette smoke and 3-day old ham? Actually, I quite like the smoke – it reminds me of a life more exquisite than my own. Of what could be. Of what IS just several streets away.
My mother shook her head when I called her from a stop somewhere in the Dakotas. I knew that her worried tone would make me turn back if I were able, but I only had a one-way ticket.
So once I was gone, I had to be gone. And I had to make things work.
We get along better now that I'm gone; I smile to myself as I reflect on the last brief letter I received from her. I can sense her fear for me trumps any feelings of resentment she could hold. The family is finally starting to thrive as some of our tenants have gotten small jobs and begun to contribute more in the form of rent payments. My sisters are growing up - I can't even believe they're each two whole years older than they were when I last saw them.
~
I make my way to the piano shop where I've actually managed to secure a job for myself and take my key to open the door. I'm several minutes late, but no one has to know. I smile as I think to myself how good it was of Momma to teach us all how to play, much as we hated to. Usually left to my own devices, I feel as if I could run this place, even though I still have bigger things in mind.
After cleaning up dirty dishes and shelving old books, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this piano shop would draw in a mysterious visitor - someone like Carole. Someone with an extra ounce of glitz and glamour in their life. I thought that it might provide my next ticket towards opportunity. But our customer traffic is fleeting - even Hollywood still doesn't have that many people ready to invest in superfluous purchases right now - and I've met nobody who's lit a spark in me the way she did.
But it's funny, for all the lasting effects she had on me, the ticket was the last I heard from her.
I've seen her name on marquees around town and snuck into several of her films when I can. I pass her studio every day, and yet it's the one road that I just can't seem to cross. I have no way of contacting her - my attempted letters have all come back with a stock photo, a fake autograph and zero recognition. It's like those months at the boarding house never existed.
Except for the fact that I'm here. Two thousand miles away in California.
I walk in and take a deep breath, flicking on a light and taking in all that lies before me. It will have to do for now.