Just Around the Corner: Romance en casserole
"Don't leave me, Jimmie."
"Sure, I won't--see!"
"Jimmie! Jim-mie--"
"Ma! Ma, for Gawd's sakes, open your eyes! Ma darlin'--please--please--"
"Sing, Jimmie, like--a banjo."
"Plunka-plunk-plunka-plunk!"
* * * * *
On that last boom of eleven the Stuyvesant Theater swung its doors
outward as the portals of a cuckoo clock fly open on the hour, and women
in fur-collared, brocaded coats, which wrapped them to the ankles, and
carefully curved smiles that Watteau knew so well and Thackeray knew too
well, streamed out into the radium-white flare of Broadway, their
delicate fingers resting lightly on the tired arms of tired business
men, whose faces were like wood-carving and whose wide white
shirt-fronts covered their hearts like slabs.
Almost before the last limousine door had slammed, and the last tired
business man had felt the light compelling pressure of the delicate
finger-tips on his arm and turned his tired eyes from the white lights
to the whiter lights of cafes and gold-leaf hotels, the interior of the
Stuyvesant Theater, warm and perfumed as the interior of a jewel-box,
blinked into soft darkness. Small figures, stealthy _espions_ of the
night, padded down thick-carpeted aisles flashing their pocket
searchlights now here, now there, folding rows of velvet seats against
velvet backs, reaching for discarded programs and seat-checks, gathering
up the dainty debris of petals fallen from too-blown roses, an
occasional webby handkerchief, an odd glove, a ribbon.
Then the dull-red eyes above the fire-exits blinked out, the sea of
twilight deepened, and the small searchlights flashed brighter and
whiter, glow-worms in a pit of night.
"For Pete's sakes! Tell Ed to give back them lights; my lamp's burnt
out."
"Oh, hurry up, Essie! You girls up there in the balcony would kick if
you was walkin' a tight rope stretched between the top stories of two
Flatiron Buildings."
"It's easy enough for you to talk down there in the orchestra, Lulu
Pope. Carriage shoes don't muss up the place like Subway shoes."
"Gimme the balcony in preference to the orchestra every time."
"What about us girls 'way up here in the chutes? Whatta you say about
us, Lulu Pope--playin' handmaids to the gallery gods?"
"Chutes the same. I used to be in the chutes over at the Olympic, and
six nights out of the week I carried water up the aisles without a
stop. Lookin' each row in the eye, too!"
"Like fun!"
"Sure's my name's Lulu Pope! Me an' a girl named Della Bradenwald used
to play Animal or Vegetable Kingdom every entr'acte with the fireman."
"Oh-h-h! Say, Loo, you oughtta see what I found up here in Box E!"
"Leave it to Essie Birdsong for a find! What is it this time--the
diamond star the blonde queen in Upper E was wearin'?"
"A right-hand, number five and a half--white stitchin'."
"Can you beat it? And you ain't never had a claim yet at the
box-office."
"I knew my luck would break, Lulu. My little brother Jimmie says if you
break a comb your luck breaks with it. I broke one this morning. Whatta
you bet now I begin to match every one of my five left-hand gloves,
without a claim from the office?"
"Lucky kid!"
Conversation curved from gallery to loge box, and from loge to balcony.
"Gee! Look at this amber butterfly! I seen it in her hair when I steered
her down the aisle. She must be stuck on something about this
show--third time this week, and not on paper, neither."
"Amber, is it, Sadie? I'll trade you for the tortoise-shell one I found
in G 4; amber'll go swell with my hair."
"Whatta you bet she claims it?"
"Nix."
"Say, did you hear Wheelan flivver her big scene to-night? I was dozin'
in the foyer and she tripped over her cue so hard she woke me up."
"I should say so! I was standing next to the old man, and he let out a
line of talk that was some fireworks; he said a super in the mob scene
could take her place and beat her at pickin' up cues."
"Ready, Sadie?"
"Yes; wait till I turn in one gent's muffler and a red curl."
"Are you done up there, too, Essie?"
"Yes; but you needn't wait for me, Loo. If you're in a hurry I'll see
you down in the locker-room."
Seats slammed; laughter drifted; searchlights danced and flashed out as
though suddenly doused with water; and the gold, crystal, velvet, and
marble interior of the Stuyvesant Theater suddenly vanished into its
imminent wimple of blackness.
In the bare-walled locker-room Miss Essie Birdsong leaned to her
reflection in the twelve-inch wavy mirror and ran a fine pencil-line
along the curves of her eyebrows.
"Is this right, Loo?"
"Swell! Your eyes look two shades darker."
"Gee!"
Miss Birdsong smiled and leaned closer.
"The girls all out, Loo?"
"Yeh; hurry up and lemme have that mirror, Ess--Harry gets as glum as
glue if I keep him waiting."
Miss Pope adjusted a too-small hat with a too-long pheasant's wing
cocked at a too-rakish angle on her brass-colored hair, and powdered at
her powdered cheek-bones.
"Here--you can have the mirror first, Loo. I--I ain't in a hurry
to-night. You and Harry better go on and not wait round for me."
Miss Pope placed her long, bird-like hands on her slim hips and slumped
inward at the waist-line; her eyes had the peculiar lambency of the blue
flame that plays on the surface of cognac and leaves it cold.
"What's hurtin' you, Ess? The whole week you been makin' this play to
dodge me and Harry. If you don't like our company, Doll-doll, me and
Harry can manage to worry along somehow."
"Oh, Lulu, it--it ain't that, and you know it."
"You're all alike. Didn't my last chum, Della Bradenwald, do the same
thing? I interdooced her to a gen'l'man friend of mine, a slick little
doorman for a two-day show, and what did she do? Scat! After the second
day it was good-by, Loo-Loo! They went kitin' it off together and
dropped me and Harry like parachutes!"
"Loo, darlin', honest, me and Joe just love goin' round dancin' with you
and Harry; but--but--"
"Then what's hurtin' you?"
"It's ma again, Loo. She looked like she was ready for one of her spells
when I left; she's been worse again these two days, and the doctor says
we mustn't get her excited--her heart's bum, Loo."
"Say, I used to have heart failure myself, and I know a swell
cure--Hartley's Heart's Ease. Honest, when I was over at the Olympic I
used to go dead like a tire. Lend me your eyestick, Ess."
"You'll laff, Loo; but she's daffy for me and Joe to come home after the
show; she's never seen him at all, and--"
"Oh, Gawd, I gotta flashlight of Joe!"
"When ma and I was clerkin' the girls and fellows always used to come to
our flat, Loo; and, say, for fun! Ma was as lively as any of us in those
days; and we'd have sardine sandwiches, and my kid brother used to
imitate all kinds of music and actors; and we used to laff and laff
until they'd knock on the ceiling from up-stairs and ma'd pack the whole
lot of 'em home. Why don't you and Harry come up to-night, too, Loo? And
we'll have a little doin's."
"Nothin' doin', Beauty. There's a Free-for-All Tango Contest round at
the Poppy Garden to-night; and, believe me, I wouldn't mind winning
that pink ivory manicure set. All I gotta ask is one thing, Ess! Bring
me a snapshot of Joe doing the fireside act!"
The glaze of unshed tears sprang over Miss Birdsong's eyes like gauzy
clouds across a summer sky.
"I--that's just it, Loo. I can't get him to come. Sometimes I think
maybe it's just because he's stringing me along; and I--he--he was your
friend first, Loo. Ain't he ever said anything to you about
me--about--aw, you know what I mean, Loo?"
"He's hipped on you, girl. I know Joe Ullman like I know the floor-plan
of this theater."
"Honest, Loo, do you think so?"
"Sure! Gawd! I knew Joe when I was making sateen daisies in a
artificial-flower loft on Twenty-second Street; and him and my brother
was clerkin' in a cigar store on Twenty-third and running a neat little
book on the side."
"A book?"
"Yes, dearie--a pretty picture-book."
"Joe never told me."
"He ain't always been the thirty-dollar-a-week kid he is now--take it
from me. Just the same, you can thank me for interdoocing you to the
sharpest little fellow that's selling tickets on the sidewalks of this
great and wicked city."
"I always tell him he ought to save more--taxis and all he has to have,
that spendy he is!"
"Sidewalk speculatin' is a good pastime if you're sharp enough; and I
always tell Joe he's got a edge on him like a razor."
"Like a razor! Aw, Loo, you talk like he was a barber."
"Sure, he's that sharp! Take Harry now: he's as slick as a
watermelon-seed when it comes to pickin' a sheet of music with a whistle
in it; but put him in a game like Joe's, with the law cross-eyed from
winkin' and frownin' at the same time, and he'd lose his nerve."
"It ain't a game, Loo. Joe says there ain't a reason why a fellow can't
sell a theater ticket at a profit, just like Harry sells a sheet of
music. Sidewalks are free for all."
"Leave it to Joe to stretch the language like a rubber band. His middle
name is Gutta-Percha."
"He was your friend first."
"He is yet, Beauty--even if you have grabbed him. I like him--he's one
good sport; but with Joe's gift for tongue-work he could make a jury
believe a Bowery jewelry store ought to have a _habeas corpus_ for every
body it snatches; he could rob a cradle and get a hero medal for it."
"I--sometimes I--I don't know how to take him, Loo. We've been goin'
together steady now; and sometimes I think he--he likes me, and
sometimes I think he don't."
"Take it from me, you got him going. I never knew him to take a
five-evenings-a-week lease on anybody's time."
"Six."
"Six! For all I know, you--you're keepin' things from me. Lemme see your
left hand--whatta you blushing for, Beauty? Whatta you blushing for?"
"Aw, Loo!"
"Say, how does this jacket look, Ess? Half them judges over there at the
Poppy watch your clothes more'n your feet."
"Swell!"
"Well, is this where me and Harry exit, Beauty?"
"Yeh; you go ahead, Loo. I--I'll tell Joe you and Harry went on ahead
to-night."
"I gotta half bottle of Hartley's Heart's Ease at home, Ess. Tell your
old lady to have it on me. Don't you worry, kiddo. I used to have heart
trouble so bad I'd breathe like a fish at a shore dinner--and look at me
now! I'll bring it to-morrow--a tablespoonful before meals."
"Good night, Loo. I'll see you Monday."
"Put on a little more color there, Doll, or you'll never get nothin' out
of him. You look as scared as an oyster. Lordy, you can handle him easy!
Lemme know what happens. S'long! S'long!"
"Good night, Loo!"
Miss Birdsong brushed at her soft cheeks with the pink tip of a rabbit's
foot, and the color sprang out to match the rose-colored sateen facing
of her hat. Her lips opened in a faint smile; and after a careful
interval she scrambled into her jacket, flung a good-night kiss to the
doorman, and hurried through the gloomy foyer.
No sham like the sham of the theater! Its marble facade is classic as a
temple, and its dirty gray-brick rear opens out on a cat-infested alley.
The perfumes of the auditorium are the fumes of the wings. Thespis wears
a custom-made coat of many colors, but his undershirt is sackcloth.
Miss Birdsong stepped out of a gold and mauve hallway, through a grimy
side-door, and into an area as black as a pit; and out from its blackest
shadows a figure rose to meet her.
"Joe?"
"Yeh; where's Loo and Harry?"
"I dunno; they--they went on."
"Hurry up, Beauty. I ain't so much of a favorite round this theater that
I can bask in this sunny spot."
"I didn't mean to keep you waitin' so long, Joe."
"Believe me, you're the foist little girl I ever hung round an usher's