Mwuah, mwuah.”
“Bbbbbbbbb, bbbbbbbbb.”
“To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark box . . .”
Ma looked at the throng of girls packed into the sound-stage, then she looked at her daughter. “What are they doing, Kara?”
“Warming up. We learned this in acting class. You have to get all your facial muscles limber. It helps with enunciation and expression.”
“It looks pretty silly to me.”
Kara surveyed the mass of girls. There must be five hundred girls here. They all look like they could star in a TV show. These girls have probably been acting since they were in diapers.
“Kara, you’re nervous.” Ma looked at her with a frown. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous.”
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this.”
“Look over there.” Ma pointed to a table with a Line 1 sign taped on its side. A dozen girls waited as two women scanned through sheaves of paper, handed out stickers, and pointed them to Line 2. “I guess that’s where we start.”
Kara and Ma stood behind a girl about Kara’s age. That can’t be her mother. Kara eyed the stunning twentysomething woman standing beside the girl.
“The audition starts right now,” the woman whispered to the girl. “You’ve got to own it right from the start. Show them you aren’t intimidated. Stand up straight, look them in the eye, and shake their hands. Make sure you thank them for the opportunity. But don’t grovel.”
An agent? Kara panicked. She has an agent?
Kara looked around the soundstage. Am I the only loser who came with her mother? Everyone else has an agent or manager or, what is that, a whole entourage?
Kara watched as the girls in front of her gave their names to the ladies at the table and received a number. A few girls were turned away.
“This is not a cattle call,” one of the ladies at the table said. “You have to have been invited to this audition. You weren’t.”
The girl who had brought her agent along—or vice versa—walked away in tears.
“Go ahead, dear,” Ma said when it was Kara’s turn at the front table. “This is my daughter, Kara. She’s the best. You’re gonna love her.”
“Ma.” Kara’s face burned. Her mother meant well, but she looked like an old lady, with her gray hair and her sensible shoes. All the other girls were with “power women.” And I’m with “super granny.”
She turned to the lady in front of her. “Kara McKormick. Kara with a K.”
The lady flipped through a stack of papers with her perfectly manicured acrylics. “From The Book of Love, right? ”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kara smiled.
“I loved the monologue you performed during the talent competition. It was very funny.” The woman highlighted Kara’s name on the list and gave her a sticker with the number 414 on it. “I’ve got you down. Now go over to line two and get your script. Good luck.”
Kara and Ma once again stood behind a young woman and her beautiful agent. The agent turned around. Her hair was brown with reddish highlights, and her makeup appeared professionally applied.
“I knew you looked familiar.” She extended her hand to Kara. “Sharon Sanders. I followed The Book of Love closely. I assumed some other agent already snatched you up.” The agent looked at Ma with a frown. “Obviously, I was wrong.”
“My daughter doesn’t need an agent. She’s a teenager. All she needs is me and her father. That’s what I told the other folks that called up, and that’s what I’m telling you.”
Kara turned to her mother. “What other folks, Ma? ”
“Folks like her—agents who want you to make money for them. I’ve read about them in the magazines. Poor girls get sucked in by their lies and then leave their parents and end up on drugs.” Ma glared at the agent. “You’re not getting your hands on my Kara.”
Kara looked from her mother to the agent, stunned. The agent smiled and pulled a card from her purse. “I understand your concern, Mrs. McKormick. There are some agents like that. But I believe in family. I hope to have many children someday. My agency involves parents in every aspect of the decision-making process. So if you change your mind, please give me a call.”
Ma looked at the card as if it were a poisonous snake. The girl standing beside the agent looked at Kara as if she were the poisonous snake. Kara took the card, put it in her back pocket, and thanked the agent.
When they left the second line, Ma put a protective arm around Kara. “I want you to throw that card out. I don’t care what she said. Those agents are bad news. I don’t want you turning out like those girls in the magazines.”
“But, Ma, she just wanted to help.” Kara looked back at the agent. She was coaching her client, giving her hints, showing her how to stand and move her hands. “If I’m going to be an actress, I’ll eventually have to get an agent.”
“Who says?” Ma stood up straight.
“Everybody.” Kara motioned around the room. “If I don’t get a part on this show, will you let me get an agent? ”
“You are too young to have an agent.”
“I’m seventeen, Ma.” Kara rolled her eyes. “And it’s an agent, not a pimp.”
“Kara McKormick.” Ma lowered her voice. “Don’t you say words like that. See, this is what I was talking about. You just have an agent’s card and your mouth is already filthy.”
“I’ve got to look over this script.” Kara sighed, pointing to the black folder the man at the second table had given her. “And since I don’t have an agent, you have to read with me.”
The soundstage was packed, so Kara guided her mother to a corner where they could have a semblance of privacy while still being able to hear the loudspeaker announcing the numbers.
“I’m not good at the drama,” Ma said. “Your pop should have come. He’s better at that.”
Kara laughed. “That’s for sure. But Pop’s at work, so you’ll have to stand in.” Kara opened the folder. “Sit next to me so we can read together. You’re And and I’m But.”
Ma looked over at her. “Excuse me?”
“Ma.” Kara pointed to the first page. “The script. We’re at Conjunction Malfunction, see? I’m the conjunction But.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to like this.” Ma’s gray curls shook.
Kara and her mother read through the script.
“That was perfect, sweetie.” Ma pulled a pack of cheese crackers from her purse. “Want one? I brought some juice too.” Ma reached back into her purse, dubbed “the corner market” by Kara’s siblings.
“No, Ma.” Kara pushed the crackers away. “That was just a read-through, so I’ll know what the skit is about. Now I need to practice really saying the lines.”
“What are you talking about?” Ma closed the magnetic latch on her purse. “You just said the lines.”
“Yes, but I need to get into character. You know, try some different accents, choose which words to emphasize.”
“You can’t just say the words?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Kara looked over her lines again, trying to commit them to memory. “I love being able to create a character.”
“But this is so silly.” Ma glanced over Kara’s shoulders.
“I love silly!” Kara said. “And I want to show the casting directors I can play a character that’s very different from who I am. You know, show that I’m versatile. This is a variety show. I’m thinking of maybe using a southern accent. What do you think?”
“Southern? You can do southern?”
“Why sure I can,” Kara drawled, a perfect southern belle. “I just spent two months in Tennessee. I listened to those folks down there. I practiced talkin’ like them. What do you think?”
Ma clapped. “I think you’re perfect.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Kara looked at the script again. “But there’s more than that. I need to be upset at the beginning. But I don’t want to overdo it. The comedy is in making it believable. I need to really look like I’m upset. But I can’t look too upset because it’s a comedy.”
“This is all very confusing.” Ma waved her hands.
“Just keep reading the other lines.”
“But I can’t do the accent and the crying.”
“That’s all right, Ma. I’ll do the acting. I just need to practice hearing the lines before mine so I know my cues.”
“This is a lot of pressure, Kara. Maybe your father shoulda come.”
Kara pulled the agent’s card from her pocket. “I could always call Ms. Sanders.”
Ma snatched the card from Kara’s hand and threw it in her purse. “Fine. I’ll read.”
After reading through the script several times, Kara felt prepared. She had been able to memorize her lines and perfect her accent.
“Number 414?” a man with a bullhorn announced, stepping out from behind a metal door at the back of the large room. “Number 414. You’re up.”
Kara hugged her mother and walked toward the door. Look out, folks. Kara McKormick is in the house!