straighten up every day. Every other Friday morning all the mothers and some of the fathers come in and we clean the building ourselves, we repair things that go wrong on our own, we do all the dirty work, if you will, and we do it ourselves.” Her face was tense with self-righteousness. “We’ve had some families with working mothers who have asked if they could send their housekeepers in to do the work for them, but that is not allowed. It’s missing the point of why we exist at all.”
“Yeah? So?” Cee Cee said, “I understand, and Friday mornings are
good for me. Hey, believe me, I can clean as good as anybody else. I wasn’t born a star, you know. I grew up in the South Bronx in a sixthfloor walk-up. When my father’s dry cleaning store was in trouble, I had to teach tap dancing to little kids so I could get my own lessons free. And after I practiced my tap on the linoleum kitchen floor, my
I’LL BE TttERE
65
mother used to make me scrub it with a toothbrush. Don’t be prejudiced against me ‘cause I’m famous. I swear I’ll work ten times as hard as anybody.”
Barbara Gilbert looked down with a sigh. This was not what she wanted to hear. Clearly, she had hoped to scare Cee Cee off. Was sure that by now she’d be seeing her to the door, sorry she’d ever thought of putting the little girl in a co-op. When she looked Cee Cee in the eve now, it was with an expression which meant, Now I’m going to drive my point all the way home.
“Besides our group responsibilities, each family has to have a job. Cleaning the animal cages, scrubbing the floors, buying supplies in bulk, delivering them to the school and putting them away, fund-raising, organizing and refurbishing the library.” She rattled off the list with raised eyebrows then asked, “Which job in those I listed do you think you would want to do?” as if it was a trick question.
Cee Cee’s mind raced. She was afraid if she gave the wrong answer Barbara Gilbert would suddenly pull a lever that would release the floor beneath her feet and she’d find herself standing outside in the parking lot. “How about fund-raising?” she tried. “I’ve got lots of good ideas for that. I could maybe get donations from the studios, or how about after I do my next picture we could have a special premiere of it and charge a high ticket price and every cent could go to the school. I could probably help the school make some dough. So much, that
maybe you could afford to hire a janitor!”
Barbara Gilbert looked up sharply.
“A joke,” Cee Cee said apologetically. Very apologetically. “That was just a joke.”
Barbara Gilbert thought about it for a while, then Cee Cee saw the moment when it turned, saw in her face that she realized maybe the idea of having Cee Cee Bloom at the school might not be as terrible as she’d imagined. There was something to be said for the ability of someone like Cee Cee to help bring in some badly needed money.
“Look, I’ll be flank with you,” she said, “there are many schools in Los Angeles which cater to children of people in show business, allowing the students to go off on locations with their parents at any time and that sort of thing. We’re not one of them. Also there’s no
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IRIS RAINER DART
doubt in my mind that you are not co-op material. But since you’re so insistent and | feel very sorry about the child’s situation, let me speak to the others and get back to you.”
Relief. Cee Cee wanted to pinch Barbara Gilbert’s little birdlike face. She was right in a way. The old Cee Cec wouldn’t have been coop material. She was obsessed with her work, fixated on her career, had let too many important things fall by the wayside because of her work. But that was not who she was now, or at least who she wanted to be. She wanted to have her priorities in order, and Nina was at the top of her list. Now Barbara Gilbert pursed her lips and Cee Cee thought of Margaret Hamilton in The
“Yeah? So?” Cee Cee said, “I understand, and Friday mornings are
good for me. Hey, believe me, I can clean as good as anybody else. I wasn’t born a star, you know. I grew up in the South Bronx in a sixthfloor walk-up. When my father’s dry cleaning store was in trouble, I had to teach tap dancing to little kids so I could get my own lessons free. And after I practiced my tap on the linoleum kitchen floor, my
I’LL BE TttERE
65
mother used to make me scrub it with a toothbrush. Don’t be prejudiced against me ‘cause I’m famous. I swear I’ll work ten times as hard as anybody.”
Barbara Gilbert looked down with a sigh. This was not what she wanted to hear. Clearly, she had hoped to scare Cee Cee off. Was sure that by now she’d be seeing her to the door, sorry she’d ever thought of putting the little girl in a co-op. When she looked Cee Cee in the eve now, it was with an expression which meant, Now I’m going to drive my point all the way home.
“Besides our group responsibilities, each family has to have a job. Cleaning the animal cages, scrubbing the floors, buying supplies in bulk, delivering them to the school and putting them away, fund-raising, organizing and refurbishing the library.” She rattled off the list with raised eyebrows then asked, “Which job in those I listed do you think you would want to do?” as if it was a trick question.
Cee Cee’s mind raced. She was afraid if she gave the wrong answer Barbara Gilbert would suddenly pull a lever that would release the floor beneath her feet and she’d find herself standing outside in the parking lot. “How about fund-raising?” she tried. “I’ve got lots of good ideas for that. I could maybe get donations from the studios, or how about after I do my next picture we could have a special premiere of it and charge a high ticket price and every cent could go to the school. I could probably help the school make some dough. So much, that
maybe you could afford to hire a janitor!”
Barbara Gilbert looked up sharply.
“A joke,” Cee Cee said apologetically. Very apologetically. “That was just a joke.”
Barbara Gilbert thought about it for a while, then Cee Cee saw the moment when it turned, saw in her face that she realized maybe the idea of having Cee Cee Bloom at the school might not be as terrible as she’d imagined. There was something to be said for the ability of someone like Cee Cee to help bring in some badly needed money.
“Look, I’ll be flank with you,” she said, “there are many schools in Los Angeles which cater to children of people in show business, allowing the students to go off on locations with their parents at any time and that sort of thing. We’re not one of them. Also there’s no
66
IRIS RAINER DART
doubt in my mind that you are not co-op material. But since you’re so insistent and | feel very sorry about the child’s situation, let me speak to the others and get back to you.”
Relief. Cee Cee wanted to pinch Barbara Gilbert’s little birdlike face. She was right in a way. The old Cee Cec wouldn’t have been coop material. She was obsessed with her work, fixated on her career, had let too many important things fall by the wayside because of her work. But that was not who she was now, or at least who she wanted to be. She wanted to have her priorities in order, and Nina was at the top of her list. Now Barbara Gilbert pursed her lips and Cee Cee thought of Margaret Hamilton in The
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