Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen - Dyan Sheldon [76]
I didn’t know what the answer was. All I knew was that I had seriously underestimated a couple of things, only one of them being Carla Santini. I hadn’t realized what the limits were to what people would believe. The man in the ticket store had believed my improbable – but possible – story of a dying sister. The bus driver had believed my improbable – but possible – story of a sister with a broken foot. The bouncer had believed the improbable – but possible – story of my sudden illness. Ella had believed in the deaths of my father and Elk – both possible but not all that probable. The one story I’d told that was both probable and possible was the one that was true. And no one believed it. Not even Mrs Baggoli. I’d always thought it was possible to control your life, but it seemed that it wasn’t. To everyone in Deadwood, there was no way I would ever get into the Sidartha party, and so I hadn’t.
Have you, Lola…? Have you finally had enough…?
“You know what really gets me?” I said to Ella that night on the phone. “What really gets me is that Sam’s right. We could never have won. It’s like playing cards with a river-boat gambler. The deck’s marked. You couldn’t win if you played for the rest of your life.”
“What does it matter any more?” asked Ella.
“What does it matter?” Was this the same girl who only weeks before had been begging me to stay out of Carla’s way?
“Well, we know we went to the party,” said Ella. “We know we met Stu Wolff. I mean, that’s what really counts, isn’t it?”
Have you, Lola…? Have you finally had enough…?
MY WILDERNESS DAYS
From then on, Mrs Baggoli was cool to the point of frostbite through every rehearsal. She was warm and encouraging to the rest of the cast, but when she spoke to Carla or me she was like a ringmaster entering the lions’ cage, chair first.
The others kept their distance, too – at least from me. Carla Santini made sure that they did.
Mrs Baggoli may have said that whatever was going on between Carla and me would stop outside the auditorium, but that wasn’t what Carla heard. Carla heard, “Escalate this battle into a full-scale war, and take no prisoners”.
She stopped talking to me completely again. Whenever I made some comment on the play, Carla would pretend to study her nails. Whenever I tried to strike up a conversation with one of the other actors, she’d cut in – smoothly, effortlessly, smilingly – and ice me out. No one even bothered trying to strike up a conversation with me if Carla was around; it wasn’t worth the effort. All someone had to do was ask me the time and she’d swoop down like a vulture on a dead rabbit.
And then, on Wednesday, Carla sailed into rehearsal with her curls shaking and a floodlight smile. The rest of us were all at the front of the auditorium. We all looked warily at one another.
“Mrs Baggoli,” screeched Carla. “Mrs Baggoli, guess what? You won’t believe my news!”
Mrs Baggoli looked up with an expression on her face that suggested that she was prepared to believe anything. “I’m almost afraid to ask,” said Mrs Baggoli.
Carla laughed. “Oh, no, you’re going to love this.” She spread out her arms as though about to make an important announcement. She took a deep breath. She was ready to burst with excitement.
“My father wants us to have the cast party at our house!” she shrieked. “Isn’t that fantastic? He says he insists!”
I’ll bet he did.
The cast party isn’t exactly the social event of the year. It’s what you would call a symbolic celebration. Usually it’s held backstage. We are all supposed to bring in something to eat or drink, and Mrs Baggoli contributes the cake.
Mrs Baggoli was taken by surprise. “Why Carla,” she said. “That’s very kind of your father, but it’s very short notice—”
“Oh, I know, I know…” Carla wrung her lily-white hands. “He’s been so busy that it kind of snuck up on him.”
Which meant that she’d only just thought of it. It had taken her a while, but she’d finally come up with the way she could play a supporting part and still be the star.
Mrs Baggoli looked unsure. “Well…”
“And he