With the map spread out useless on the seat beside her, she feels stressed by the road work taking place along the small country highway. She’s never traveled this way before, but the man at the gas station assured her that if she follows this route, it would cut two hours off her travel time. She is already late, having had a hard time leaving her mother and father this time, after the discovery that her father is dying of cancer. She has three hours until the show officially opens, and still four hours to travel. If she is not there, she loses her role and her paycheck.
Her fear increases as the cars traveling around her become fewer. She has no reason for her fear, but there it is, just the same. When she approaches a tunnel, her trepidation increases. She curses herself for traveling alone and for being scared. She grabs her cellphone, checking for a signal, her heart lifting when she sees a full set of bars displayed at the top of the screen. Her chest filled with air, she drives into the tunnel, and she clasps her cellphone in the taut whiteness of one hand.
The tunnel gets darker as she travels through it, only her headlights and the pulsing beacons of the construction sawhorses lighting the way. The thumps in her chest get stronger and more forceful, as the tunnel goes on with the entrance no longer visible, and the end still unseen. The flashing lights seem to come closer together, until they blur into one large circle of lights weaving before her. Her foot stamps down on the gas petal. Her car lurches forward, complaining of the sudden assault on its engine. The tires rise up higher, reaching and climbing the wall of the tunnel, until they lose their grip and whip furiously through the air. The door panels weep as the pavement pounds into their steel flesh, once, twice. The top of the car screeches against the asphalt as it spins, the sparks soaring brightly in the darkness. She smells the hot sweetness of oil mixed with gas and remembers no more.
She soars above the crowd weightlessly. It seems odd to be looking down at them, rather than up. She notices the rose encrusted casket. Curious, she floats over to it. She spies familiar faces along her way, and despite the weight she feels in her chest, she remains translucent. She feels the tears she wants to cry yet none will actually fill her eyes. Her mother dabs at her eyes. Her father, looking suddenly older and frailer since she last saw him, openly wept. Jared, her estranged fiance, speaks softly. So softly, she has to strain to hear his words. “I’m so sorry. I loved you so much. I wish I could take it back.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Every afternoon, he walked in the door of Don’s Donut Shoppe. He was so punctual you could set your watch by him. He almost always wore a smile, the wide toothy smile of a man who has faced dragons and won. For all his consistencies, he never placed the same order twice.
“What’s the recommendation today?” The deep silkiness of his voice rumbled from somewhere within him. He spoke quietly, yet it carried over the natural cacophony of the bakery.
“It’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so you can expect a lot of pinks, especially this week. These iced donuts have been hot sellers today, going out by the dozen. If you want a bite, I just put fresh samples out,” Kate stated with a simple smile. Her eyes took in his perfectly tapered ebony hair while her fingers resisted the urge to trace his square jaw that had the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow. She was always amused that his dress slacks were wrinkle free, the creases still stiff, as if he had been standing in one spot all day. Every female employee of the bakery had their own guesses as to what he did for a living, and their own fantasies involving him.
Whispers laced with spice swirled through the small bakery whenever Kate spoke to him. He never got in any other line, despite the three open registers. It was always Kate’s, and he always made it appear as if the rest of the world was someplace else whenever she started talking. No one knew his name, and if Kate did know, she kept it to herself.
“I’ll have a pink donut today, then, as you suggested,” his voice murmured. His hand lingered a little longer than it should have as she handed him his treat. He gave her the money, always the same amount, and with a wink, walked out the door. Kate finally exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath and still felt the tingle his teasing fingers had left on her skin.
Kate’s college roommate, Courtney, broke through her daydream as they punched out a short while later. “What’s he gonna do tomorrow when you aren’t here? Does he know you have an audition?”
“Only if he asked Mr. Donahue. I didn’t tell him. I guess he’ll have to order from someone else for a change. I wonder how he’ll handle that?” Kate laughed. Internally, she admired his propensity for timeliness. It was one of the key things she wanted in a man, that and romance. She wanted to be surprised at some point in her lifetime by a dozen roses by delivery, a sentimental card lost within the buds.
“I reckon he will be okay for one day. Melanie will take good care of him. She might try to sink her nine inch claws into him, but he is so far gone in you, it won’t work.” Courtney giggled.
Her hand slapped playfully on Courtney’s arm and she said, “Stop that. He is NOT into me. He just likes his consistency. I’m sure the first time I recommend a donut he hates, he will move on to the next register without a backward glance.”
“Umm hmmm, little Miss Denial. You’ll see. I dare you to give him a bad recommendation.”
The drive to Manhattan the next morning held no surprises. Kate loathed driving in the city, but until she had another contract, she couldn’t afford the cost of room and board while she searched for a new gig. If she won this audition, she could choose to stay in New Jersey and ride the subway. She hated the butt to nose traffic of the subway more than the fender kissing on the streets. At least you could breathe in a car.
She arrived at her destination, bloated and blue. She exhaled and checked her watch. She had 15 minutes to spare until she needed to go sign in. She left the stereo on as she picked up the script again. If she wanted the bigger paycheck of the off Broadway production, she needed to snag the lead role. She had chosen her character and the part of the script she wanted to read carefully, and she felt confident in her ability to adapt to their desires. She wanted to time her delivery once more and began rehearsing in her car.
“It was a wrong number that started it, you see. I would have never voluntarily talked to him myself. He was lucky that day, extremely lucky. I had no idea the trouble he’d cause me. I can’t say as I would change a thing though. No. He’s dead now, and I won’t miss him, but he was fun while he was around. I got the best part of him.” Her hand moved up to pull the invisible fedora down over her eyes. Calm, cool, diabolical was how she wanted to present these lines. The next few lines could be read by another hopeful, the only drawback to open auditions. She readied her nerves to respond in character regardless of the quality of another’s audition.
“You think to play me? We were married. Once. Anything you’ve been told that didn’t slip from his fat lips is hearsay. Hearsay, I tell you!” Kate felt the sting in her hand as it met the dashboard. She breathed. She was getting a little too caught up in the role.
She wished she had brought Courtney with her. At least she would have someone to read the opposite part with her. She would have to make do without, though they had just rehearsed last night. Her eyes roamed the script, the butterflies began a dance in her belly, and she knew it was almost time. Her arm stretched to the glove box, retrieved the CD she always played before an audition. The stereo accepted it smoothly. The sultry sweet tone of Madonna’s voice broke through the speakers.
Take a bow, the night is over
This masquerade is getting older
Lights are low, the curtains down
As much as she needed to hear the whole song, she was almost out of time. She skimmed forward, to the last verse, and closed her eyes.
All the world is a stage
And everyone has their part
But how was I to know which way the story’d go
How was I to know you’d break
[You'd break, you'd break, you'd break]
You’d break my heart
I’ve always been in love with you
[I've always been in love with you]
Guess you’ve always known
You took my love for granted, why oh why
The show is over, say good-bye
As the melody moved into its final notes, Kate pictured the movements she would make during the audition to fit the part she planned to read for. Movements that involved no stage props, as she was sure there would be none.
Say goodbye [bye-bye], say good-bye
Say good-bye
There really was no explanation for why this song was the one she had to listen to. No matter what role she was auditioning for, no matter what type of production, this song just always prepared her. The lyrics were powerful. She emptied her mind, focused solely on this moment, and entered the building.
