The Stage Relationship

‘The longest journey I ever took was’ should have been the title to the overdue production Robert Simon was developing inside his mind down at the city university arts center. Instead, the evening’s program published and printed, “Poetic Short Stories Lectured to You - A Romantic Choreographed Dance Comedy Presentation.”

Leaving the small box known as an office, the dedicated committed academic smiled at the reality, his writings were going to be seen after someone else visioned the message, then applied his notepad scribble to another creative form.

“Honey,” he put his head into another cubicle cubby hole, “we have a long subway ride uptown.”

Taylor Felicity perked up from the trance like state expecting something special to happen very soon, “it’s only a couple stops underground.”

“But it’s the train, it takes forever.”

“Why don’t we hoof it,” Taylor paused, “like we did when we were young.”

Heading down the elevator before venturing into the spring air, Taylor softly used her arm slipping it inside the fashionable trench coat protecting her leading man from the weatherly elements.

“You know, you do not need this heavy jacket?”

“I want to look the part,” Robert explained starting to feel an enchanting magical moment set in, “it took me my entire career to get to this one moment.”

“Your moment? Students in my class earning judgmental grade letters, displaying messages seducing the audience with beauty while the spotlight blinds them into thinking success is somewhere out there,”

Starting to chuckle, Robert picked up the pace realizing for the past twenty-five years this trusting friendship never experienced two scripted page words reciting, ‘I Do,’

Street numbers increased, traffic performed its routine daily chores, and the pair hustled their way under the metropolitan theater district’s guiding light.

Approaching the crowded street, the two observed patrons standing around buying tickets, wanting ‘to challenge their need to interpret desires’.

“They all came to see what we did,” Robert stopped.

“A simple story that took a stanza,” Taylor continued, “by who?

“By me,” Robert stared gracefully into her eyes.

“And me,” Taylor giggled conservatively, unleashing a twinkling response.

Seeing his intrepid pupils volunteering, holding the stage door Robert took the hint, but before entering a British accent bellowed out, “a singing dance performance based on poetry, what a novel idea.”

“You see Mr. Simon, they like it already,”

Making their way through the tiny quarters and finding themselves near the stage despite strangers waiting patiently for the curtain to rise, the anticipated hour approached increasing energetic enthusiastic tension.

“Professor Simon,” someone wearing headphones exclaimed, “we all want to thank you for this opportunity to be here in this house, showcasing our talents.”

Slipping away Taylor found the dressing room area, “are you all almost ready?”

Impressed seeing young adults spending a moment reflecting in the mirror Taylor felt reassured about the future.

“Yes, Miss Felicity,” The troupe announced.

Hours later Robert and Taylor celebrated internal victory, dining at their favorite watering hole,

“Should we give them a passing review?” Robert inquired.

“Do you think they are ready to enter the real world?” Taylor commented with a question.

Sitting back the couple saw “Poetic Short Stories Lectured to You By” Book Robert Simon, Choreographer Taylor Felicity still blaring. Picking up the wine glass, taking a sip the educators said in unison, “We did our job.”

When the server arrived with the check, Robert offered to pay triggering a sarcastic statement, “what? You think I am going to pay? This girl has an image to uphold.”

Suddenly across the street, the show production announcement turned off, “I guess the nights over,” Robert noted signing the check.

“That it is,” Taylor agreed.

Only a few steps later Robert and Taylor encountered the outdoors when the marquee flashed back on displaying a small, corrected message.

“Look they already changed the marquee,” Robert said.

“Yup our one-night affair completed,” Taylor naturally added.

Apparently, while they were departing someone edited the sign and instead of reading “Choreographed by Taylor Felicity,” the revision glittered, “Choreographed by Taylor Felicity Simon.”

Turning back around and seeing the maître D handing Robert a jewelry box, Taylor gasped.

“Taylor Felicity, it has been a long journey filled with class and I would like us to be more then partners in artistic impression,” Robert projected his own monologue, “all I ask, is read these two words I wrote for this scene in our play.”

“I do,” Taylor tearfully accepted, and applause erupted above the marquee.

“You all passed,” Taylor screamed towards the group, “and as for you Mr. Simon, we have a lot to plan on our long journey home.”