I’ll pay you for the extra time, fair and square. I’m in a spot with the opening act, though. I need the piano. Help a min out?”
Antonio lifted his gaze to the rafters. He had read the playbill. “Dolly?”
“That’s right. ‘A Bird in a Gilded Cage.’ You’ve played it before. No surprises there.”
Antonio dropped back to the stool. “Fine.”
Mac slapped his shoulder, sending him forward with the force. “Take fifteen minutes and then we’ll be all set, aye? I’ll tell Marcus.”
“Just don’t call me Tony.”
“Sure. Righto.” The man scrambled off into the shadows.
Dolly was a female impersonator, although most folks didn’t realize it. His real name was Marcus, apparently. B.F. Keith, the owner of many theaters including Union Square, where they showed those new moving pictures called the Lumière Cinématographe, set the pace for vaudeville. He made a big deal out of offering theater suitable for women and families in his establishments. Tony Pastor, the owner of the Fourteenth Street Theatre was no different, for the most part. Wholesome entertainment was the fashion now in Manhattan, it seemed. Therefore, no one mentioned Dolly’s masquerade. The farce was just another instance of what Antonio had to put up with in order to save money to fulfill his father’s dream for him. One day he would be that classical musician Mac thought he should be. For now, this wasn’t too bad. Antonio could do worse for his supper, he supposed. He’d been told that in the old days patrons were not prohibited from throwing vegetables at the acts. If he had to perform on stages like this, at least the Fourteenth didn’t allow disgruntled mobs.
He stared down at the keys under his fingertips. This song, meant to make genteel ladies weep over a woman who had not married for love, launched the show nearly every night. While Antonio waited out the intermission, he brought his dog a cracker.
“Good, loyal mutt you got there.” A stagehand offered Antonio a cup of coffee.
“Thanks. He is.”
“He’ll wait right here until you’re done?”
“He will.”
The man’s face bloomed with a toothy grin. “Don’t that beat all.”
Antonio whispered instructions to Luigi although he didn’t have to. The dog was more reliable than the humans Antonio knew. After a quick visit to the men’s room, it was finally time to take his place at the piano again. He would play for this ridiculous act simply because he needed to eat. Antonio held on to the hope that one day he would rise above this, play in concert halls for wealthy patrons who had discerning tastes. If he continued to save as much of his earnings as possible to fund a trip west for an audition at Oberlin College, it could happen. A dream, perhaps unreachable, but one he was determined to pursue.
He stared down at his fingers hovering over the black and white keys like a bird of prey. Only one thing could throw a snake into the plan: the mystery of his father’s death. Many times he had gone to sleep hoping to wake up from a bad dream.
He rubbed his hands together and flexed his joints. Right now he had a job to do. He had to put other thoughts aside and get through this.
As soon as Dolly hurried off the stage, to undeserved applause Antonio thought, a quartet scrambled up. One of them handed some music to Antonio. “ ‘Strike Up the Band?’ Absolutely not.” He stood, ready to leave, but Mac’s firm hand pushed him back down. He dangled three dollar bills in front of Antonio.
“But this is a complicated piece,” he complained.
“Can’t you do it?”
“Yes, but probably not the way—”
“Just keep it up tempo. It will be fine.”
Mac hurried away and the four men stood in the electric spotlight, waiting. Antonio inhaled deeply and then played an F to allow them to find their notes.
“Brum, brum, brum,” they sang. “Jaaack...is the king of the dark blue sea...Jaaack...is as brave as the brave can be...”
Antonio began to
Antonio lifted his gaze to the rafters. He had read the playbill. “Dolly?”
“That’s right. ‘A Bird in a Gilded Cage.’ You’ve played it before. No surprises there.”
Antonio dropped back to the stool. “Fine.”
Mac slapped his shoulder, sending him forward with the force. “Take fifteen minutes and then we’ll be all set, aye? I’ll tell Marcus.”
“Just don’t call me Tony.”
“Sure. Righto.” The man scrambled off into the shadows.
Dolly was a female impersonator, although most folks didn’t realize it. His real name was Marcus, apparently. B.F. Keith, the owner of many theaters including Union Square, where they showed those new moving pictures called the Lumière Cinématographe, set the pace for vaudeville. He made a big deal out of offering theater suitable for women and families in his establishments. Tony Pastor, the owner of the Fourteenth Street Theatre was no different, for the most part. Wholesome entertainment was the fashion now in Manhattan, it seemed. Therefore, no one mentioned Dolly’s masquerade. The farce was just another instance of what Antonio had to put up with in order to save money to fulfill his father’s dream for him. One day he would be that classical musician Mac thought he should be. For now, this wasn’t too bad. Antonio could do worse for his supper, he supposed. He’d been told that in the old days patrons were not prohibited from throwing vegetables at the acts. If he had to perform on stages like this, at least the Fourteenth didn’t allow disgruntled mobs.
He stared down at the keys under his fingertips. This song, meant to make genteel ladies weep over a woman who had not married for love, launched the show nearly every night. While Antonio waited out the intermission, he brought his dog a cracker.
“Good, loyal mutt you got there.” A stagehand offered Antonio a cup of coffee.
“Thanks. He is.”
“He’ll wait right here until you’re done?”
“He will.”
The man’s face bloomed with a toothy grin. “Don’t that beat all.”
Antonio whispered instructions to Luigi although he didn’t have to. The dog was more reliable than the humans Antonio knew. After a quick visit to the men’s room, it was finally time to take his place at the piano again. He would play for this ridiculous act simply because he needed to eat. Antonio held on to the hope that one day he would rise above this, play in concert halls for wealthy patrons who had discerning tastes. If he continued to save as much of his earnings as possible to fund a trip west for an audition at Oberlin College, it could happen. A dream, perhaps unreachable, but one he was determined to pursue.
He stared down at his fingers hovering over the black and white keys like a bird of prey. Only one thing could throw a snake into the plan: the mystery of his father’s death. Many times he had gone to sleep hoping to wake up from a bad dream.
He rubbed his hands together and flexed his joints. Right now he had a job to do. He had to put other thoughts aside and get through this.
As soon as Dolly hurried off the stage, to undeserved applause Antonio thought, a quartet scrambled up. One of them handed some music to Antonio. “ ‘Strike Up the Band?’ Absolutely not.” He stood, ready to leave, but Mac’s firm hand pushed him back down. He dangled three dollar bills in front of Antonio.
“But this is a complicated piece,” he complained.
“Can’t you do it?”
“Yes, but probably not the way—”
“Just keep it up tempo. It will be fine.”
Mac hurried away and the four men stood in the electric spotlight, waiting. Antonio inhaled deeply and then played an F to allow them to find their notes.
“Brum, brum, brum,” they sang. “Jaaack...is the king of the dark blue sea...Jaaack...is as brave as the brave can be...”
Antonio began to
Similar Books
The Shadow Companion
Laura Anne Gilman
Stripping for Daddy
Gia Blue
A Mixed Bag of Blood
David Bernstein
Never Say Never
Emily Goodwin
Because You're Mine
K. Langston
Touch the Sun
Cynthia Wright
CallingCaralisa
Virginia Nelson
The Cosmic Logos
Traci Harding
Monster (Impossible #1)
Julia Sykes