Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1927
L ouisa
With time to spare before today’s two o’clock audition, I decide to visit a friend, certain he will be able to steer me in the direction of the Hollywood connection I am seeking. Taking a detour to the theatre feels like going home. After all, I all but lived there for the better part of a month. The aroma of last night’s stale popcorn lingers outside the theatre doors. I step over the kernels left by a street vendor’s cart and move toward the main entrance.
I tug the weighted door open and step inside the lobby. The floor gleams as though Mr. Johnson has been polishing it all morning. His whistling tune reaches my ears before he appears from behind the ticket booth.
“Well, I’ll be.” Mr. Johnson beams at me, mop and bucket in hand. “If it isn’t Miss Louisa Wilson, in the flesh.”
“Hello, Mr. Johnson.” I take a careful step forward, cautious of the slippery tile. “I was in the neighbourhood and thought I might catch you.”
“Well then, I better consider myself caught.” Setting down the cleaning supplies, the friendly janitor reaches me in a few long strides. “You know, me and my wife were just talking of you the other day. Wondering how you were getting on, now that the play has ended.”
“It’s been less than a week. Don’t tell me you’ve missed me already.” I tease my friend before placing a hand on his. “I told you I wouldn’t forget you.”
A hearty laugh tips his head backwards. “As you say, Miss Louisa, it hasn’t even been a week yet.” Recovering himself, Mr. Johnson inclines his head in the direction of the theatre’s inner sanctum. “Would you like a peek inside?”
“Lead the way, fine sir.” I place my hand in the crook of his arm as he guides me toward the theatre, so rich in colour and texture that it feels like we are stepping into another world.
As the large theatre doors close, the familiar hush of the enclosed space embraces me. The stage is waiting patiently for tonight’s play to begin, with a makeshift kitchen set in place beneath the glow of a single spotlight. The only things missing are the actors and an audience.
We walk until the slope of the theatre aisle levels out. “You were sure something on that stage, Miss Louisa.”
My smile is a shy one, given the many productions I am certain Mr. Johnson has witnessed during his time at the theatre.
“Did I tell you that I brought my missus for your final matinee performance?” His eyes twinkle in the low light. “After weeks of listening to me brag about you, she finally told me to hurry up and buy two tickets. She arranged for the neighbours to watch our boys just so she could get gussied up and see what I was going on about.”
“I didn’t know that.” I feel the heat of exhilaration run through me.
“And she wasn’t disappointed, despite being tucked out of sight, up there.” Mr. Johnson points to the upper benches in the rafters, and my heart sinks at the reminder of the blatant discrimination within the theatre’s luxurious setting.
“No, ma’am. She’s been talking about the play since last Sunday, she has.” Mr. Johnson lets out another hearty laugh. “Course, when everyone she tells about it asks when and where they can see it, she has to apologize and tell them it’s already closed.”
“Oh dear. I am sorry to hear that. It is good to know, though, that Thomas could have had another week’s run had he known about Mrs. Johnson’s advertising campaign.”
Mr. Johnson slaps a hand to his thigh. “I suspect you could be right about that.”
He fills me in on the current production, the cast, and its opening night, before heading back to the lobby and the midday light. “Now, I don’t expect you came all this way just to listen to me go on about things.” Mr. Johnson’s friendly expression doesn’t waver. “What can I do for you, Miss Louisa?”
“I do have a question for you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything I can do to help.”
“Do you happen to remember a man named Romaine Fielding? He is a Hollywood director who travelled through Vancouver several years ago.”
Mr. Johnson’s eyes spark with recognition. “I do remember him.”
My heart beats faster at Mr. Johnson’s recognition of the Hollywood director. “I believe he was seeking fresh talent at the time.”
“I was reading about him just yesterday.”
“Yesterday? I didn’t realize he was in the city. That is fortunate news.” I can barely conceal my excitement at the happy turn of events. I hadn’t expected to find the man in my very own backyard. “I am not sure if he is still actively looking for new actresses, but I thought it might be a good place for me to start.”
“A good place to start?” Mr. Johnson scratches his head.
“I thought I’d try my hand at a bigger acting role. Hollywood has been on my mind a lot since the play finished.” I blush at the candid admission of my secret desires. “I don’t suppose you happen to know where I might find Mr. Fielding?”
“Oh, I’m sorry to say he isn’t here.” Mr. Johnson wrings his hands together.
“Do you mean he is expected to return soon?” I am hanging all of my hopes on a man I don’t even know, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from believing that Mr. Fielding may be the person meant to discover me for the silver screen.
“He isn’t anywhere, really. I read about his passing in the newspaper yesterday is what I meant to say.”
The words dash my hopes like a stone in a rain puddle. “Oh.” My fingers settle atop my lips as I take a moment to regain my composure. “That is sad news.”
“Newspaper said he experienced a blood clot of some sort and passed early in the week. He was about my age, I reckon.” Mr. Johnson delivers his last words an octave quieter.
“I suppose that is that.” A shrug of my shoulders is my unconvincing attempt at hiding my disappointment.
“I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Miss Louisa. Maybe someone else can help. What was it you needed from Mr. Fielding?”
“To be honest, I am not sure he would have even met with me. I suppose I was hoping he might recommend me for a Hollywood production.” Saying it out loud, the idea sounds like a fanciful childhood wish rather than the plan I made it out to be. “I thought, given the play and all, that I might be ready for something more. Something bigger.”
“Ah, I see.” A quiet moment passes, both of us lost in our thoughts. “Miss Louisa, if I may.”
I nod, encouraging him to continue.
“The way I see it, you don’t need nobody to tell you that you’re good enough for Hollywood, as you most certainly are well on your way. But as my mama used to say, just cause you want to be ready for something, doesn’t mean it is ready for you. Keep on doing what you are doing, and you’ll find your success.”
I tuck my disappointment behind a sincere smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Mr. Johnson reaches for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he guides me toward the exterior door. “Now, I don’t want to keep you, and this lobby sure ain’t going to clean itself. But I expect to see you again, real soon. And that offer still stands. The missus would love to have the one and only Miss Louisa Wilson at her home for dinner. You just let me know a suitable time.”
I press my back against the cool door. “I certainly will. My mouth is already watering at the thought of Mrs. Johnson’s biscuits.”
As I stroll away from the theatre, Mr. Johnson waves at me from the open door. “You have yourself a blessed day, now.”
“Goodbye.” Even though my hopes of being discovered by Mr. Fielding have permanently disintegrated, my heart is warmed by the friendship I’ve found in Mr. Johnson. I wave a final farewell over my shoulder and head toward the audition and the new production waiting for me.
I arrive at the audition with twenty minutes to spare. A large notice board points me to the room where auditions are taking place. The door’s hinges squeal softly as I pull on the handle and step into the room. Taking a seat in a chair positioned against the far wall, I scan the small gathering of actors and actresses.
The empty, elevated stage positioned at the front of the room is basic in design. Having joined Thomas’ cast after auditions had taken place, the only location I knew was the theatre. It hadn’t occurred to me that auditions for professional productions wouldn’t usually happen within the grandeur of a theatre.
A bustle of activity at the door catches my attention. A gaggle of girls, presumably auditioning for a role in the play, chirp like birds as they survey the room. With a nod of one’s head, all four march with confidence in my direction, smiles pasted on glossed lips. I am about to uncross my legs to allow them room to pass when the leader of the group leans toward me.
“Are these seats taken?”
“Not at all.” I gesture to the vacant seats on either side of me.
Swishing her long blond hair over one shoulder, the petite but clearly self-assured girl sits down beside me while instructing her companions to do the same. “Thanks. I assumed you were here for the lead female role. This director prefers for us to sit near one another while we wait to be called. It’s easier to save him the hassle of asking us to gather in our sets.” A roll of her eyes tells me she finds this to be an unnecessary quirk. “You wouldn’t believe how much time we waste as people try to organize themselves.”
Titling my head to one side, I ask, “How did you know which part I was here for?”
“You’re a dead ringer for the part.” She extends a hand. “I’m Ana, and this here is Claire, Marie, and Helen.”
I lean forward to greet the others. “Nice to meet you. I’m Louisa.”
“You look familiar. Have I seen you around before?” Ana fiddles with her handbag, then tucks it discreetly under her chair.
A bubble of nerves rises within me, reminding me of how unfamiliar I am with this process. “I’ve recently moved into the city. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to audition.”
The girl named Marie leans forward, an accusatory finger pointed in my direction. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you play Mrs. Craig in Craig’s Wife ?”
I bite my bottom lip, unsure of whether a compliment or a criticism is heading my way. “I did.”
“I knew I’d seen you somewhere before,” Ana’s lips curve into a smile. “Heck of a first role. I am assuming it was your first leading role.”
“Yes, in a production of that size, that’s right.” I fold my hands in my lap, feeling the scrutiny of their eyes upon me. With my Hollywood prospects having taken a blow with the news of Mr. Fielding’s death, I feel the urge to redeem myself by winning the lead role of this play. I have no idea what I am up against, but I am eager to prove myself.
I think back on Thomas’ directorial notes, reminding myself to project my voice, regardless of how many people are in the audience. I remember his continual reminders to find something useful to do with my hands, even if it is simply being comfortable having them rest at my sides. His attention to detail pushed me to be better. I only hope I don’t let him down.
Ana leans in. “I have to tell you, I saw you perform in Craig’s Wife . You were stunning.”
“Thank you. You are kind.” Though technically my competition in this instant, I suspect that, if given the chance, Ana and I could become fast friends.
Our conversation ends abruptly as the director enters the room, striding toward the stage with pages of notes fluttering in his hand. Close on his heels is a young woman, practically glowing with a fresh face and bouncing brunette curls.
“Oh geez, we might as well pack up and head home now, ladies.” Ana’s words are delivered in a low mumble laced with disappointment.
“Pardon?” I look from her to the new girl. “Why would we leave before the audition?”
Ana’s head tilts in the girl’s direction. “That there is Eve Dumont, but we like to call her Daddy’s Girl. Her father is in the entertainment business, and his connections seem to secure every single role she wants.” Ana shrugs in defeat. “Looks like she has set her sights on this one. Well, what are you going to do? Can’t win them all.”
Ana and her friends all stand at the same time. “So, you are going to leave? Without auditioning?” My eyebrows knit together.
Tugging her handbag from beneath her vacated chair, Ana says, “Yeah. In this business, it all comes down to who you know. Sometimes you get lucky and nobody in the room knows anybody.” She winks mischievously. “Then the audition becomes about talent. That happens less often than you’d think.” Waving for the other girls to go ahead, Ana meets my eyes once more. “It was nice meeting you, Louisa.”
Stunned by the actresses’ quick departure, I consider my options and stand to follow them, but the director is calling the room to order. Not wanting to cause a scene, I take my seat again.