I was beaming like a light bulb all day in school. Nothing could dim my mood. No one could dim my mood.
I was stoked to tell my mother about the play when she came to pick me up after school. “All right! My baby’s gonna be a star!” she said in the car ride home. “Your father’s going to be so proud!”
Well, almost nothing could dim my mood. “Mom!” I said. “Really?” Already? It was too soon! We hadn’t even started rehearsals!
“Honey, you said you’d wait until the audition! You got it! Now it’s time to tell him.”
I closed my eyes tightly. I didn’t want to have the conversation with Dad only to have him throw dirt all over my new passion.
“I’ll get on it,” I mumbled, with every intention of waiting as long as I could possibly wait before telling him.
We pulled into the garage, and I beelined for my room. I dropped my book bag on the floor and flopped on my bed. Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell Dad about the musical tonight. Was there any chance he could get held up in court tonight? And tomorrow night? And the night after?
Just then the ceiling seemed to shift. Then a small piece of dirt fell from the ceiling onto my forehead. Maybe it was plaster? I wiped it off. Then another piece floated onto my cheek. And another one. Then I realized it wasn’t plaster when the air got hazier and hazier, and the sprinkles of white matter became thicker and started to swirl into a funnel at the foot of my bed.
After a minute or two, the funnel cloud of dust settled, and Victoria appeared out of thick air.
She coughed a couple of times as she smoothed her dress down. “June! Well, well! Exciting stuff today! Congratulations on getting the lead role!”
I wiped dust away from my face. “Um, thanks.”
“You followed your true desire to audition and you went for it, and you got it!” Victoria said. “See what good happens when you do things that make you happy and not just things that make other people happy? I saw you during your audition—it was like true joy beamed through your body as you sang. Following your truth got you the leading role!”
I put a hand on my heart. “I would like to think that it was my stellar acting ability and Broadway-level vocals that got me the role, but okay, yeah, the truth has helped.”
“Well, of course, your talent helped, too, but you wouldn’t have found your real talents had you not found your truth,” Victoria said. “So, now that you’ve landed the role, you have to tell your father. You have been stalling on telling him about the play. Why, darling?”
“I didn’t want to tell him before I auditioned, because what would be the point of that?” I said. “What if I didn’t make it?”
Victoria took a seat on the edge of my bed. “That’s no longer a worry. Now it’s time to tell him. Tonight is a very good time to do that.”
I started pacing around my bedroom floor. I felt a headache coming on. My mouth suddenly turned dry and mealy, like I’d eaten a handful of cornmeal. “Well, what if, like, I got the part on a fluke? What if the director of the show decided they’d made a mistake casting me in the lead role when I had no experience?” I spoke doubly fast. “What if I totally flopped onstage the first week of rehearsals and they kicked me out of the show? And then I’d have to admit I’d been a complete and total and utter failure, and that I’d failed at acting and singing of all things!”
“June. Breathe!” Victoria said. “You got the part. It’s yours. You’re not going to flop. What you are going to do is tell your dad.”
“Listen, I’ll do it, on my own time,” I said.
Victoria’s tone turned serious. “Let me remind you that this spell means you tell the truth at all times, no matter how scared you are of other people’s reactions. It means not hiding the truth from others, or yourself. Besides, remember that heart-to-heart talk you had with your father where he told you about his desire to create a legacy for you? The great success he sees in you?”
She stood tall in front of me, and glitter fell from her shoulders. “I’m going to up the ante on our little challenge. If you don’t tell your father you’re starring in this play soon, I can guarantee that opening night in your first major actress role will not be as successful as you hope.”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t dare do anything to make me mess up!” I said. “This has been one of the biggest things to ever happen to me of all time! You wouldn’t do anything to ruin that, would you? That’s not very fairy godmotherly of you!”
Victoria put her hand on my shoulder. “Darling, I want nothing more than for you to succeed in this play. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. But you must learn that you cannot keep hiding the truth from people. You have to tell your father that you’re starring in the play. I can’t lift the spell unless you tell him. I will be watching.”
Victoria backed away from the bed and started spinning in a tight circle until a swirl of fairy dust surrounded her. A funnel cloud formed faster and faster in front of me until she disappeared into thin air once again. Twinkles of matter in front of my eyes reminded me of her recent presence. I flopped back onto the bed and closed my eyes. My chest tightened up, like someone was giving me a bear hug from behind. My mind started racing. What was I going to do?
We were just finished setting up dinner when Dad came home (nope, he hadn’t gotten held up in court after all, drat). “Baby girl, how you doing?” he asked as he gave me a kiss on the cheek and put his briefcase down. I smiled nervously. “Be right back, gotta get out of these work clothes,” he said.
Grilled lime chicken skewers with a side of rice and roasted veggies were steaming hot and on the table when he came back down. I took my seat and watched as Dad came back into the room and took a seat at the table as well. What was I going to tell him? How was I going to tell him? Was Mom going to slip and say something first?
My stomach tensed up. I bit my lower lip. I started humming the words to “Ease on Down the Road” to myself to divert my racing mind from my dad’s potential reaction. “MM mm mm, MM mm, mm, MMMMmmmmmmmm.”
My head automatically fell into a quiet bopping rhythm as I mumble-sang to myself. My breathing slowed, my stomach relaxed. I felt calm again. Goodness, The Wiz was good for my soul.
We began to assemble food on our plates. “Oops, forgot extra pepper,” Mom said, rising from the table briefly.
“So, what’s up at school, June? Good day today?”
I silent hummed to myself. “Yep, all good.”
My mom looked at me. She was ready for me to spill the beans about the musical. But I sure wasn’t. “I want extra lime wedges,” I announced, then went back into the kitchen to find them. I came back a few minutes later with limes.
Then I drank my water real fast. Suddenly I had to get up again. “Excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” I said. The more I was away from the table, the fewer opportunities I had to tell my dad about the musical. Now I was literally running from the truth.
I came back to the table. My dad turned to me. “June, what happened at school today?”
I looked at him, then looked down at my lap. “Oh, I gotta grab a napkin. The chicken is sticky!” I said. I got up again, and slowly found another napkin, and reorganized our linens drawer while I was there. Dad was talking about something else with Mom now. Phew! I came back to the table.
“You guys hear about that actress from that sitcom you all watch on Netflix?” Dad said as I sat back down. “Filed for bankruptcy. Seems after taxes she couldn’t afford her brand-new condo downtown. Told you Hollywood doesn’t pay.”
My mother looked at me. I looked at her. Neither of us said anything.
I felt a tightness in my stomach. This was the reason why I didn’t want to tell Dad about acting. He never talks about the many actresses around here who are successful, who have bought condos and can afford their cars and do have health insurance, just like he does. I had to tell him that I could be one of those actresses, that the school had already spotted my acting ability and cast me as the lead role in The Wiz!
“Follow your truth,” Victoria would say to me. In fact, she was saying it right now. I could hear a little voice over my shoulder saying, “Follow your truth. Tell him.”
“Not all actresses go bankrupt, honey,” my mom said. “Right, June?”
“I’m not saying that,” Dad said. “But it’s an unstable life.” He took another piece of chicken. “Whatever, no need to worry about that anyway, right, June?”
I felt a flutter in my nose. It was as if someone had sprinkled extra pepper on my chicken. A lot of pepper. I had to sneeze.
“Achoooo! Achooo-achooo!”
I cleared my throat a few times, but my throat still felt scratchy and raw. I dabbed away at my nose while cursing Victoria’s name for sprinkling my dinner with fairy dust, turning me into a sneezy, wheezy mess. Flustered, I eked out the only thing I could think to say in the moment: “Maybe?”
“Anyway, let’s talk about the holidays,” my dad said, changing the subject and turning toward my mom. “Baby, you think we should head up to the lake this year or celebrate here?”
My mom unlocked her gaze from my eyes and turned to Dad. They fell deeper into conversation about the holidays and potential trips and visitors, while I quietly ate my chicken and rice. I let the adults talk, hoping they’d forget all about the wannabe actress child at the table. Victoria had a good thing going. Being invisible in this case would sit just fine with me.
CONFESSION #69:
Maybe if I practice how Dad will react to me being in the play, I can deal with it:
Me: “Dad, I have big news. I’m going to be an actress!”
Dad: “Uh, no, you’re gonna get a real job first.”
Me: “Daddy, guess what? I’m such a great actress that I scored the lead role in the school musical! I’m going to be Dorothy in The Wiz!”
Dad: (Blank stare. Then his head explodes.)
Me: “Daddy, guess what? I’m going to play one of America’s classic leading roles! I’m going to be Dorothy in The Wiz! At just eleven years old I scored a role Diana Ross got in her thirties! I’m a theater prodigy!”
Dad: “If you were a prodigy, you’d be working in Hollywood already. Besides, did Diana Ross have health insurance when she was thirty?”
Sigh.