“Maybe if you took your hands out of your pockets for a minute, you’d know what to do with a girl!” Lolly was yelling at Peter.
“It’s her fault the phone didn’t ring!” Peter scowled at Joy Boxx. “She’s supposed to be taking care of the sound effects.”
“I am not!” Joy replied angrily. “I’m working the curtain. Will was supposed to do it because he isn’t in that act.”
“I couldn’t find the jingle-thing for the telephone,” Will muttered.
“It’s all right,” I told them. “Calm down everyone. You’re doing fine,” I lied. “The audience is really with you.”
It only helped a little bit. I felt as frustrated as U Thant4 as I went back out front for the last act. They were really too angry to be anything but blind to my efforts at making peace.
Five minutes later the auditorium was absolutely quiet. You could have heard a pin drop on a pile of marshmallows. The trouble was it was as quiet behind the footlights as in front of them. Will Leigh had forgotten his lines.
Desperately, Wanda repeated his cue. Still Will just stood there looking blank. Another long silence as the audience waited expectantly. Finally someone backstage acted as prompter.
“I caught the junkie making love to Blanche’s daughter. I thought you should know.” Maybe the prompter meant to whisper, but his voice carried throughout the entire hall. It was clear to everybody—everybody but Will!
He cupped his hands to his ear. The prompter repeated the line-—even louder this time. Still Will didn’t hear it. Finally he walked to the rear of the stage and stuck his head into the wings. Again the prompter spoke the line, good and loud this time, his voice filled with exasperation.
Will returned to center stage. “Thanks,” he called over his shoulder. Then-— “I caught the junkie making love to Blanche’s daughter. I thought you should know.” He delivered the line.
It was a show-stopper. The audience gave him a standing ovation. Will actually bowed. Wanda’s face was filled with murder.
The next scene called for Phil to demonstrate the lust binding him to the prostitute Blanche, as played by Rusty. Portraying the kibbutznik, Phil had a phoney beard stuck on his face. You guessed it! When he got through kissing Rusty, she was wearing the beard and he was left with his bare face hanging out!
I wouldn’t have figured anything worse could happen. I was wrong. Fate had worked out the flub to climax all the others for the finale.
The script called for the daughter, Leslie, to find her mother in bed with the sailor, played by Cass Novack. In the world of Pinkus, all sailors carry guns: That’s known as dramatic license. Leslie was supposed to pick up the sailor’s gun off the nightstand and attempt to shoot him. At the last split second, the mother was supposed to throw herself in front of her lover and the bullet meant for him was to kill her. Accidental matricide! Curtain!
What happened was this: Lolly, in the role of Leslie, grabbed the gun. Rusty threw herself in front of Cass. Lolly pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t fire. Lolly pulled it again. No sound. She fired a third time. Silence.
Thinking fast, Lolly flung the gun away, pulled a nail-file from her purse and leaped on Cass to stab him. Rusty hesitated, obviously not too anxious to get between Cass and the blade. Lolly stabbed. Cass screamed with surprise. From backstage somebody fired three shots from a cap pistol in rapid succession. The curtain descended with the wrong casualty still squealing and the play left corpse-less.
It rose again for the cast to take their curtain call. The audience applauded wildly. Most of them being relatives of the cast members, I guess it proved that blood is thicker than water. After three curtain calls the curtain dropped for the last time and the audience rushed backstage to bestow individual congratulations on their loved ones. I followed along to watch the melee of backslapping. Each little family clique formed a group of its own, isolating the actors from each other--which was probably fortunate, all things considered. Looking around, it seemed to me like a series of sterling examples proving that the family that praise together stays together.
As for myself, I felt like nothing so much as a limp dishrag that’s just been trampled underfoot by a horde of peace marchers. I was glad that this time the drama group had decided to have the cast party on the following night, instead of directly following the play. It may have been only a pause in the hostilities, but battle-weary as I was, it was as welcome as a Christmas truce.
I spotted Lolly standing alone in a corner and went over to her. “Didn’t your aunt and uncle come?” I asked her.
“They were here. But they had to take off right away. Both kids are down with the mumps.”
“That’s too bad. Can I give you a lift home?”
“Sold, Daddy-O.”
I waited until we were in my car and driving down a quiet Pine Glen side street before I made my pitch. “Would you like to stop off at my place for a nightcap?” I asked her.
“You wear one of those? How fogey can you get, Pops? Me, I sleep bare-headed. Bare-headed all over, matter of fact.”
“I mean a drink.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I blush to confess it, but getting Lolly into my house was about as premeditated as an over-age would-be teeny-bopper can get. As a matter of fact, I’d even made— ahh—certain preparations for her visit. After two drinks, as per plan, I took her on a tour of the house, and when we reached my bedroom, she spotted the evidence of my planning as I knew she would.
“What’s that?” Lolly pointed.
“That’s my--umm—contraption. What do you think of it? Will it work?”
“Contraption?” She looked blank.
“Yep. Like the one you told me about. Remember? With that fellow who picked you up and brought you from California to New York?”
“Oh. . . Sure . . .”
“Have I got it set up right? Do you think it will work?”
She looked at the system of pulleys and cables I’d hooked over the ceiling beams with the harness descending over the bed and shrugged doubtfully. “I don’t know . . .”
“Well, shall we give it a try?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, kissed the back of her neck and osculated my way up to one of her ears.
“Ooh! Ooh! That makes me go ape all over!” She swiveled around and our lips met.
Yummy! That’s the only word to describe what Lolly was to me just then. Soft and young and on fire! Yummy! I shed ten years as I reached my hand under her sweater and cupped her pulsing breast.
“Ahh!” She moaned softly as I removed the sweater altogether and buried my face between those hot, white globes. She sank to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and locked her hands around the back of my neck, pressing me into her until I thought I’d suffocate.
“Wait!” Panting, I came up for air. I pulled off my necktie. The rest of my clothes followed as quickly as I was able to shed them.
“Don’t you think we’re rushing things?” Lolly shrank away from me a little.
“Let’s not hesitate. Let’s let ourselves go while we’re still young!” I flung myself down on the bed so that my head landed in her lap. I pulled her head down to kiss me. One blood-red nipple fluttered against my cheek.
Her thighs were warm to my touch as I pushed her skirt up. Her hands hesitated a little as I guided them down my belly. She gasped as I fixed them where I wanted them.
Suddenly she lunged downwards and her hands were replaced with her mouth. I bounced excitedly under her ministrations. Finally I pushed her away. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” I told her.
“All right.” She did as I asked. “I’ve never been naked with a man before,” she told me.