Starting Today: Save The Girl!
Looking for Ultimatum?, click on
Archive: Ultimatum & Other Stories
Carrie
Whiting’s voice sounded magnificent in the large theater. The two people
listening were totally entranced. Carrie was not. She held up a palm. Her accompanist
stopped playing.
“Sorry
Lawrence,” she smiled at the short, pudgy man at the piano. “I know we want a
lively song at this point in the show, but this number needs to be slower.
After all, it’s about a girl losing her true love in the War between the
States. Let’s move this song to a later spot and do something else here. What
do you think?”
Lawrence
nodded his head anxiously. “Good idea, Miss Whiting!”
Carrie
thanked her pianist but realized the question had been unfair. Lawrence was,
for all practical purposes, her employee. She couldn’t expect him to disagree
with her. She looked at the one person sitting in the audience. “What about it,
George?”
George
McLeod was Carrie’s agent and surrogate big brother. McLeod was a large man in
his early forties, with a face still doughy from his short career as a boxer.
George rarely talked about those days, simply referring to them as a time of
“youthful indiscretion.”
George
picked up a stack of sheet music on the chair next to him. “I was thinking
likewise. Gotta song here somewhere, might--”
“I
must see Miss Whiting right away,” a female voice cried from the lobby. “It is
about my baby, my only daughter!”
“Look
lady, you’re gonna hav’ ta leave quietly or--”
“I
no leave quietly! This is about my Maria! I am her mother, I have a right…”
George
McLeod turned his head backwards toward the lobby, then looked at Carrie and
shrugged his shoulders. “I better look into this.”
Carrie
Whiting glanced toward the lobby where a guard posted by the theater was trying
to shoo away a woman who seemed to be hysterical, or close to it. Carrie was
accustomed to people trying to crash her rehearsals. Often the culprits were
reporters, always they were men.
“This
is a bit odd, Lawrence,” she continued to look straight ahead while talking to
the pianist. “Maybe I’d better see if I can give George a hand.”
“Yes,
Miss Whiting.”
Carrie
hurried off the stage and up the center aisle. George had taken over from the
guard, who was now standing back and looking confused as Carrie’s agent tried
to calm the intruder. The woman flung her arms about and continued to yell, “I
must see Carrie Whiting, she take my baby from me!”
“What
do you mean, madam?” Carrie’s voice was soft and inquisitive.
The
woman’s hysteria subsided and something resembling hope came into her eyes.
“You are Carrie Whiting!” Despite her earlier demands she sounded surprised to
actually be facing the singer.
“Yes.
And your name?”
“Anna.”
Anna was a short, stocky Italian woman. Her hands were calloused and the
fingernails ragged.
Carrie
Whiting had been born into poverty, but hadn’t stayed there. She had also been
born with blond hair, remarkable beauty and a tremendous singing voice. The
young woman was aware of her good fortune, and the childhood poverty had
ingrained into her a concern for those who were poor and struggling.
“How
can I help you, Anna?”
“My
Maria, she leave because of you. Please, you bring her back.”
“She
left because of me, what do you mean?”
“This!”
She handed Carrie a copy of Godey’s Lady
Book. The current edition appeared typical. There were four circles on the
cover, each depicting a woman engaged in a particular activity: playing with a
child, cooking, teaching a class, and reading a book under a tree. As usual,
the bottom of the cover provided the information that, “We can always supply back numbers”.
The
singer gave Anna a confused half smile. “I still don’t understand. How does
this involve me?”
“You
look inside.”
Carrie
opened the magazine cover and immediately saw her own name in large letters. At
first glance, she seemed to be looking at a page in the magazine, but a careful
look caused her to realize that it was a flyer that had been carefully stuck
into this edition of Godey’s Lady’s Book.
She
pulled the flyer out and read it:
Attention Ladies
between the ages of Sixteen and Eighteen!
You Can Be the
Next CARRIE WHITING!
The
Philip Richardson Talent Agency, which represents CARRIE WHITING, The Songbird
of the West, is now searching for talented young women for our musical
productions. Auditions will be held at the Palace Theater at 320 Jupiter Street
on Thursday, April 26 from One to Seven PM.
Don’t
Miss This Once in a Lifetime Opportunity!
“Oh,no,”
Carrie’s voice was a worried whisper. “Anna, I know nothing about any of this.
I’ve never been represented by the Philip Richardson Talent Agency.”
Anna
looked shocked and then, once again, she sounded close to hysteria. “Then what
about my Maria? What happened to her?”
For
a moment, Carrie Whiting stood silently and watched the panic which contorted
Anna’s face. The singer knew the answer to Anna’s question, but couldn’t speak
it out loud.
George
McLeod took the flyer from his client and read the contents. His face went
ashen. “I’ll get in touch with Brad Simons, our lawyer, right away. We’ll put a
stop to this!”
“My
Maria!” Anna cried loudly, “She go like the paper say. She not come back. Gone
for three days now. The law do nothing. Can you bring back my Maria?”
“No
Anna, I can’t,” Carrie replied. “But I know somebody who can. We’re going to
bring your daughter back to you, Anna.” The singer pressed her lips together
and then added. “I promise. We’ll bring her back.”
Monday: Episode
Two of Save the Girl!
