the hall’s been ringing off the hook all day. And I had to go out and answer it, and take down all of Gray’s messages, because he never bothered to show up! If you don’t believe me, take a look in the men’s lounge next door. He’s not there! He didn’t even call in. Can you believe that? One stupid night on stage and he’s acting like a freaking superstar!” Rhonda snatched up a hairbrush and started yanking it through her platinum fluff.
“You know what else?” she rattled on. “He didn’t come in for Thursday’s show, either. And that was before his goddamn dazzling debut. I had to take down a bunch of messages for him that night, too. What am I, his freaking secretary?”
“Well, it’s very nice of you to do that for Gray,” I said, just to keep the ball rolling. “I’m sure he’s very grateful.”
“Ha!” she scoffed. “That’s a laugh and a half. He was so busy taking bows last night, he never even looked at the messages to see who called. That’s how grateful he is!” She angrily tossed the hairbrush back down on the cluttered table. “And I’ll tell you something else. If our director, Mr. Kazan, ever finds out Gray wasn’t here Thursday or for the matinee today, he’ll fire him on the spot. An understudy has to be in the house for every single performance, no matter what!”
Even if he’s dead? I muttered to myself.
“Gray better show up for tonight’s show,” Rhonda went on, “or I’m going to report him myself. He can’t disappear whenever he feels like it. It’s not fair!” She spun around on her stool and then suddenly, out of the blue, took a long, cold, appraising look at both Abby and me. “Hey, what are you two pretending to be? What’s with the makeup and the sporty little outfits? Is your acting class working on a scene from Picnic ?”
“Good guess,” I replied, “but actually we’re crowd scene extras in Bus Stop . It’s playing right across the street. We dashed over here the minute the matinee ended, hoping to catch Gray before he left the theater. That’s why we’re still in costume—we didn’t have time to change.”
“What a crock!” Rhonda said. “You’re really asking for it, you know!”
“For what?” I asked, getting nervous.
“For trouble, sister. And I mean big trouble.”
“Why? What are you talking about?” I was on the verge of panic now. Had Rhonda heard me and Abby arguing—and discussing the murder—out in the hall before? Did she know that everything we’d said and done since then had been a big fat act? Had she guessed our real reason for being there, and then put on a big fat act of her own?
“Don’t play the ingenue with me, honey!” Rhonda exclaimed. “You know darn well that all cast members of all Broadway shows are forbidden to wear their costumes in the street. That’s totally against the rules! And don’t say you didn’t have time to change, either. That’s a complete crock. You’re supposed to make the time, no matter what. So, you know what I say? I say you and your sour-faced sidekick over there have broken one of the most basic laws of Broadway—and you ought to be fired for it!”
Whew. Is that all? For a lowly understudy, Rhonda sure took her job (and everybody else’s!) seriously. I was staring at the floor, trying to think up a good excuse for Abby’s and my bad Broadway behavior, when a very soft, muted tinkling sound seeped into the lounge and captured my attention.
“Hey, what’s that?” I asked. “Do you hear a bell or something?”
“Cripes! It’s the goddamn phone again!” Rhonda snapped. “They keep it muffled in case it rings while the show is on.”
“Do you have to answer it?” I asked, hoping she would.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, wearily rising to her bare feet and padding toward the door to the hall. “You and Tonto have to leave now, anyway,” she added, shooting us a snotty glance over her shoulder. “I’m going back to sleep, and
“You know what else?” she rattled on. “He didn’t come in for Thursday’s show, either. And that was before his goddamn dazzling debut. I had to take down a bunch of messages for him that night, too. What am I, his freaking secretary?”
“Well, it’s very nice of you to do that for Gray,” I said, just to keep the ball rolling. “I’m sure he’s very grateful.”
“Ha!” she scoffed. “That’s a laugh and a half. He was so busy taking bows last night, he never even looked at the messages to see who called. That’s how grateful he is!” She angrily tossed the hairbrush back down on the cluttered table. “And I’ll tell you something else. If our director, Mr. Kazan, ever finds out Gray wasn’t here Thursday or for the matinee today, he’ll fire him on the spot. An understudy has to be in the house for every single performance, no matter what!”
Even if he’s dead? I muttered to myself.
“Gray better show up for tonight’s show,” Rhonda went on, “or I’m going to report him myself. He can’t disappear whenever he feels like it. It’s not fair!” She spun around on her stool and then suddenly, out of the blue, took a long, cold, appraising look at both Abby and me. “Hey, what are you two pretending to be? What’s with the makeup and the sporty little outfits? Is your acting class working on a scene from Picnic ?”
“Good guess,” I replied, “but actually we’re crowd scene extras in Bus Stop . It’s playing right across the street. We dashed over here the minute the matinee ended, hoping to catch Gray before he left the theater. That’s why we’re still in costume—we didn’t have time to change.”
“What a crock!” Rhonda said. “You’re really asking for it, you know!”
“For what?” I asked, getting nervous.
“For trouble, sister. And I mean big trouble.”
“Why? What are you talking about?” I was on the verge of panic now. Had Rhonda heard me and Abby arguing—and discussing the murder—out in the hall before? Did she know that everything we’d said and done since then had been a big fat act? Had she guessed our real reason for being there, and then put on a big fat act of her own?
“Don’t play the ingenue with me, honey!” Rhonda exclaimed. “You know darn well that all cast members of all Broadway shows are forbidden to wear their costumes in the street. That’s totally against the rules! And don’t say you didn’t have time to change, either. That’s a complete crock. You’re supposed to make the time, no matter what. So, you know what I say? I say you and your sour-faced sidekick over there have broken one of the most basic laws of Broadway—and you ought to be fired for it!”
Whew. Is that all? For a lowly understudy, Rhonda sure took her job (and everybody else’s!) seriously. I was staring at the floor, trying to think up a good excuse for Abby’s and my bad Broadway behavior, when a very soft, muted tinkling sound seeped into the lounge and captured my attention.
“Hey, what’s that?” I asked. “Do you hear a bell or something?”
“Cripes! It’s the goddamn phone again!” Rhonda snapped. “They keep it muffled in case it rings while the show is on.”
“Do you have to answer it?” I asked, hoping she would.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, wearily rising to her bare feet and padding toward the door to the hall. “You and Tonto have to leave now, anyway,” she added, shooting us a snotty glance over her shoulder. “I’m going back to sleep, and
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