The Lady Sings

Larry walked slowly down the long sidewalk to the mailbox, where he retrieved the mail. The sky was overcast, a moody gray, symbolizing a bleak winter that had just begun. The wind was calm and hushed, a silent echo that reverberated constantly like a cold hand that shivered weakly on an old man’s frame. He fumbled through the letters on his way back up the walkway, leaning over as he came to a letter addressed to his wife. How was she doing, he wondered to himself? He approached the steps near the front door and sat down slowly on the frigid steps, carefully acknowledging the fact that he would never truly know. The wind blew suddenly harder, roaring in his ears. Larry coughed as it numbingly embraced him.

Meanwhile, in Boston, his wife is auditioning for an upcoming Broadway production.

“Linda Seals?” the receptionist bellowed from behind the desk. “Mr. Tuttle will see you now.” The receptionist, devoid of expression, lowered her beady eyes toward the paperwork in front of her. Linda looked up quickly, shifting nervously in a small chair that squeaked like a mouse caught in a trap. She had waited nearly twenty years for this moment. Awkwardly, she rose to her feet, catching her breath as her 110-pound frame swayed slightly, trying to balance her tiny frame.

“Ma’am?” Linda answered nervously. “Did you say Linda Seals?” Her eyes widened and expanded, making her look like a 5-year-old girl who had just discovered something new in life.

“Yes, Mrs. Seals!” the receptionist snapped back quickly, like a guard dog tired of its watchful eye. “It’s time for your audition. “

Linda walked slowly and carefully toward the door, stopping about a foot from the brass handle, trying to listen to what might be taking place inside. After hearing the silence echo inside her head, she mustered up the courage and opened the door. As she stepped inside the room, it quickly shrank, making her feel quite enormous compared to her surroundings. The office was tiny even for her size, cluttered with makeshift bookshelves that housed old works and compositions that dangled from their seams. A large desk was off center in the middle of the room and a tall, clean-shaven man in his late 20s sat behind it, smoking a cigar.

“Geez, lady! You’re a tiny thing!” the man bellowed, then restrained himself from bursting out with a laugh.

Linda stepped back a foot, wishing she could crawl inside a hole.

“No offense lady, you just took me by surprise, that’s all. My father always said that if you can’t take a few sarcastic remarks, then you shouldn’t be in this business. Anyway, what do you have for me?

Linda tried valiantly to recompose herself and put on her biggest and happiest smile. Turning towards the tall man in the chair, she showed him her pearly whites, wishing she could chew off his head. She could always tell the police that she was a hungry girl and that the lengthy man looked like an appetizer. She erased her thoughts, trying to refocus once more. How many times had she gone through the skinny girl jokes she thought to herself. Too many, she answered.

“I will be performing O Mio Babbino Caro,” she stated confidently.

“Hmm, interesting piece, miss. You don’t look like you have the lungs for it.” The man smirked and leaned back in his squeaky swivel chair. “Begin when you’re ready.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Linda tapped her throat gently, humming in tiny octaves that lifted and carried in the small office. After a few moments, she stopped and closed her eyes. The room grew silent. She slowly opened her eyes and began to sing. Her voice was lilting and in perfect pitch as she carefully rose in volume to match the sadness of the opening piece. The tall slender man sat gawking at her, his mouth dropped open slowly and the cigar fell down on the desk. Linda smiled at him and continued her performance, triumphantly resounding her high-pitched voice that seemed to shake the very foundation of the glass and woodwork.

She followed the urgency of the piece to perfection, completing the transitions of both the male and female parts and mastering the tone and resonance without flaw. The end came all too suddenly as her voice reverberated in a long gentle harp-strung finish, leaving the tiny man both breathless and astounded. The man applauded, leaping to his feet and sending his chair rocketing backward to the wall with a thump.

“Marvelous! Simply marvelous!” exclaimed the man with sudden joy. “That is the most breathtaking piece I have ever heard.”

Linda blushed a bright pink. “Thank you so much,” she stuttered.

“Have you ever performed on stage before, miss?” the tall man asked quickly.

Linda hesitated then answered, “no I’ve never actually performed on stage before, but I know I could do so with no problems.” She bit her lip and frowned slightly, waiting for the answer she knew was coming.

The man brought his hand to his chin to think for a moment. “Well, you see, we have this part coming up in 8 weeks for the lead role in a medium-scale production. A committee of judges is going to be deciding during the next week on several finalists which will be re-auditioning for the spot. I’m one of the judges on the committee and after what I just heard I’d be willing to stake my reputation on you.”

Linda’s eyes brightened suddenly, years of hope rushing to the surface of her features. “You mean I might get the lead role in a musical production?”

The man was quick to respond after rehearsing from many hours of interviews. “Well, I can’t make you any promises nor any finalities today, but I’ll garner a month’s salary to bet that you just might get what you’ve wanted, Linda.”

Linda screeched a high-pitched “yes!!” while jumping up and down like a bowl full of Jell-O on large doses of caffeine.

The secretary pounced in quickly afterward, with her feline eyes narrowing. “What happened? I thought we were having a murder!”

Linda and the tall man looked at each other and laughed loudly. After hearing the type of news, she had wished for all her life, even another sarcastic comment or remark would not ruin her moment.

Back at home, Linda’s mother, Edna Mason, slapped the cake of soap down hard on the iron skillet and went to work. She was a hard woman with firm hands and no one was going to tell her she had to use that generic gel of lard they sold in bottles at the store. Nope! Not me, she thought. I’ll do it right and get it done the first time.

Larry stumbled into the kitchen, belching as loud as an old cannon with endless gun powder. He wiped his hands on his stained white T-shirt and opened the refrigerator door, looking around, then slamming it back shut.

“Edna, what the hell!” he yelled. “Where is the egg salad?”

“Hold your horses, you old grump!” she exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen with heavy feet. “I don’t know why I put up with you anyway. Linda should be getting your damn lunch. I’m not your maid! I cook, clean, sew, and wash. I do too many damn things in this house. It’s a wonder why I didn’t just kick the both of you out when I had a chance when Fred died.”

“Oh, don’t start with that crap again.” Howard quickly defended himself. “You had plenty of chances to throw us out or to keep us here. It was always your choice to let us stay. Frankly, I don’t give a pea twiddly noodle either way.” He swaggered and sank down in the high-backed oak chair with his enormous belly, pushing the large round table forward slightly.

Edna grabbed a bowl from the countertop and placed it firmly down on the table with both hands glaring at him.

“Here’s your egg salad, fatty!” she yelled, moving back to the dishes in a hurried manner. “Where is Linda anyway?” she asked, changing the subject.

Larry chuckled loudly, spooning a large heap of egg salad quickly into his mouth, smearing it over his chin. “She thinks she’s going to sing in a musical production.” He laughed, spitting tiny food fragments over the table as they shot from his mouth.

“Musical, what musical?” she asked, turning to face him with an air of disbelief.

“Yep. The Granger Theater is giving auditions for lead roles in their quote-unquote technically challenged musical score productions.” He held his fingers up with both hands, curling two sets of fingers like rabbit ears to mock his sentiment as he said the words quote-unquote.

“She’s a glutton for punishment, she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into. I swear she’ll never come out of that dream cloud she’s floating in.” Edna plunged her hands up and down, splashing water on the edges of the sink.

“She’s your daughter, Edna.” He smiled.

“She’s your wife, Larry.” Edna countered.

Larry looked up in the wind's face and breathed in the air with a large sigh. Crying slowly so no one would hear him, he buried his head in his left hand and sat there alone for what seemed like an eternity. He muttered over and over quietly to no one, “I’m sorry Linda. I’m so damn sorry. I need you, Linda. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. He opened up the letter and carefully tried to focus his thoughts on something real while browsing through its contents.

Dear Mrs. Seals, the letter stated, On behalf of the Granger Theater Productions, we would like to extend to you an invitation to perform in the Granger Theater Productions’ new musical tribute to The Sound of Music on Friday, March 3rd at the Downtown Granger Theater. The rehearsal will start at 5:00 P.M. and end by 8:00 P.M. We are looking forward to hearing from you and we congratulate you on getting the role in the production.

Larry’s voice trailed off as he read the words “getting the role” knowing that the letter he held echoed its full meaning. His hand fell limp at his side as the letter fell to the ground. The wind grew stronger suddenly, grabbing the piece of paper and carrying it off in a tumultuous flourish. Larry cried in anguish, sobbing fully as the tears weighed down upon his cheek like sod placed along a ground—barren and trodden from many years of misuse and bitter loneliness. A blue jay screeched in a musical number far away within the cold pines that dripped and crackled its own applause with a never-ending drumbeat rapping against the hard earth. Howard looked up toward the blue jay’s song, facing its harsh melody with sad eyes. It was then he knew she was gone.