“What?”
“Groendal can and has shut down shows with just one review. He’s done it for lots less reason than this.”
“But, why . . .?”
“I haven’t a clue. You tell me.”
“No, why didn’t anyone tell me about this before . . . I mean, if so many people in the business know about it?”
Pauline returned and sat on the couch. “You remember McCarthy . . . Senator Joe McCarthy?”
“The Army hearings? The Communist witch-hunt? I read about it.”
“How many people stood up to Joe McCarthy? Damn few. For very good reason. At worst, you could go to jail. At best, you could become unemployable. Something to think about. Why didn’t anybody tell you, honey? Because they like putting on plays, that’s why. Because they like acting.”
Val was thoughtful. “So why did you tell me now?”
Pauline tried another cigarette, did not inhale so deeply, and managed to suppress the cough. “It was the right time, honey. Oh, I’m not that brave. It is the perfect time. You can go straighten it all out with Groendal. All you have to know is one fact that you could have learned from nearly anyone and you can go settle this once and for all.”
“One fact? If I know one fact? What fact? What are you talking about?”
“Ridley Groendal wasn’t there last night.”
“But he wrote—”
“He wrote off the top of his head. He wrote out of hatred for you. How the hell do I know why he did it? All I know is that he wasn’t there. He didn’t even see your performance!”
Pauline stubbed out the cigarette. “You could, of course, complain to the Herald that Groendal panned your performance without seeing it. But that’s like going to the dead-letter department without going through the post office. They’ll never call him on it. When it comes to the world of critics, he’s like God.
“Besides, if he condescended to respond to your complaint, he’d probably say he dropped in after intermission for the last act. Or that he had one of his bird dogs cover it. But, believe me, honey, it didn’t happen. He just wanted to kill your career.”
At this point in her story, Valerie stopped speaking and seemed to drift off in the memory of the event, immersed in the enormity of an act that cried to heaven for vengeance. Imagine panning a performance without having witnessed it, motivated by hatred alone.
At length, Koesler spoke. “So what did you do then?”
Val returned to the moment with a start. “Oh! Sorry . . .
“Well, I didn’t know how to deal with that. There was just no reason. I mean, I’d never even met the man. Why would he do a thing like that? It just wiped me out. Fortunately, I had a pretty good-sized nest egg put aside . . . from the modeling. So I didn’t need to work—for awhile at least. I came back to Detroit and stayed with my parents. I just wanted time to think and put my life back together.”
“You didn’t tell your folks what happened?”
“I didn’t want to trouble them. Especially I didn’t want to dump a problem on them when I didn’t even know what had caused it, let alone how to handle it.”
“Then . . .?”
“My mother, of course, figured that something was wrong. What’s more, even without my telling her, she more or less guessed what had happened. Finally, we talked. When I got to the part where Ridley Groendal had pretty well killed my career with his offstage power brokering and then delivered the coup de grace with that review, Mom nodded.
“Then she told me the story. It was such a shock . . . I’ll never forget her words.”
“We never talked about this, Val. Maybe we should have. I never lied to you. I just never told you everything.”
“Mother?”
“You had a brother once.”
“What?”
“Before I met your father.”
“Before—”
“Wait, Val; let me finish. I was your age, only I didn’t know what you know. I had a crush on a young man. On our first and only date we had too much to drink and got carried away.”
“You mean that was it? One time and you were pregnant?”
Jane nodded. “I told you I didn’t know then what you do now. Even if I had, I had no intention of even necking or petting, let alone actual intercourse. But, it happened, and I was pregnant.”
“What happened to the guy? He didn’t marry you?”
Jane shook her head. “It gets complicated. But, to make a long story short, he left town.”
“Left town! And left you with a baby? But what became of him? What happened to my brother . . . my half-brother?”
“He . . . he had Down’s Syndrome.”
Valerie gasped.
“The dearest, sweetest child you’d ever want to know,” her mother continued. “I was with him as much as I possibly could be. But you know about kids with Down’s. Frequently, they don’t have a normal life span. Your brother, Billy, died when he was ten. It was about four years before I met and married your father, about five years before you were born.”
“A brother! Billy! Retarded! I wish I could have known him. I wish I could have taken care of him. I wish . . . but . . . why are you telling me this now?”
“Because . . . because of what happened to you in New York. And because you want a career in the theater.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“The father of your half-brother has everything to do with it. His name is Ridley Groendal.”
“Ridley Groendal? Ridley Groendal! It’s almost impossible to imagine. Besides, he’s gay, isn’t he? How—?”
“For a few moments, a long time ago, aided by some whisky, he wasn’t gay. And those few moments changed my whole life. And, I suppose, to be perfectly fair, they changed his life too.”
It was clear Valerie was stunned. “Groendal and you! I can’t believe it! The father of my half-brother . . . God!
“But what’s this got to do with me? It all happened long before I was born. Why would he sabotage my career? I never had anything to do with him. I don’t even know him. So, again: What’s this got to do with me?”
“It’s hard to say, baby. It’s a feeling. A feeling I’ve had all along. That he was out to get me. It’s like a scale that was left unbalanced.”
“But why? God knows you’ve had a tough enough life.”
“I know. I know. But he hasn’t done anything to me personally. I feel as if he thinks I made him leave home and that he deserves some sort of revenge for that. But he’s never gotten it. He couldn’t, I guess. For most of the time, I was so low he couldn’t kick me. But he still ‘owes’ me. That I feel. And if he can’t reach me directly, I feel he’ll try to get at me through someone I love—you.”
“Mom!”
“This is all hindsight, baby. It never entered my head for a moment that he would take it out on you. That’s one reason I never told you. But now . . . well, it seems that’s the only explanation for what he’s done.”
Val clenched her jaw. “Mom, I’m going to get the bastard for you. I swear it.”
Jane shook her head. “Val, don’t lower yourself to his level. Just take special care of yourself. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
“Don’t worry about me, Mom. Thanks for telling me all this. It couldn’t have been easy for you. But . . . does he know about all this—about Billy?”
“I don’t know. I only saw him once after . . . that night. He didn’t seem to believe the baby I was carrying was his. Maybe he never knew about Billy. Or, if he did, he still probably wouldn’t have admitted his responsibility.”
“Then that’s my ace in the hole. I may never have to play it. I hope I don’t. But one thing: Whatever it takes, I’ll get the bastard for you. I really will.”