Punished in Portland

4 - Leslie and Jason

Once inside, the hallway led past a large bathroom all renters shared, then bypassed a descending circular metal staircase to widen into a kitchenette alcove. The alcove's old formica table had a cigarette-scarred top and three chairs. A full size refrigerator, beside cinder block book shelves, occupied the back wall and, near the staircase, hung a pay phone. A fourth table chair sat by the non-functional phone. Actor's used the phone chair when they were studying lines and didn't want company.

The long hallway continued the length of the building, ending in a window that looked out, as the Green Room did, on swaths of paddle-shaped chestnut leaves. The Green Room, at the opposite end, also looked down on the heads of arriving theater patrons.

Dad sat Adrienne's luggage by the door to the Green Room and got out his multiple key rings. In a few seconds, he had unlocked the brass deadbolt and entered the room. All the doors in the Vic had old-fashioned doorknobs and keyholes, but a simple skeleton key would open any of them so Dad had keyed deadbolts installed for the rental rooms, the theater, Justice Investigations, and our flat's second floor entrance.

The Green Room was the last in the row of rental rooms on the far side of the Vic from our apartments. The rentals were above the property, costume, and makeup rooms and were let to out of town actors at half the going rate of other Portland accommodations. Each of them had once had a predominant color in their wallpapers, and we came to call them by those colors, Blue, Brown, Yellow, and Green.

The Green Room was the best. It was a little bigger, had windows in two walls, and it was the only room with a true closet. The reason it was empty is that Dad usually saved it for last so he could make it available when friends visited. But ultimately, the theater's needs came ahead of his, so Adrienne Barkley got the best room.

Today the Green Room was mostly white. The only green was in the leaves of the textured white wallpaper's tiny flowers. A long cherry-bedroom-set bureau stood against the wall to the hallway. A nightstand and a king sized four-poster with a snow-white Bates spread filled half the room. Its headboard leaned up against the wall that separated the Green Room from the Closet, where yesterday evening I had tucked Bob into his foldout bed and kissed him goodnight.

"Here's your key," Dad said to Adrienne, extracting one from a ring. "After you're settled, find Sally. She'll probably be in the theater."

He looked at me, and I nodded.

"She'll bring you over to my office, and you can fill out the rest of the paperwork, W4's, rental agreement, etc. Rehearsal's at seven this evening. Bring your script. You can carry it until Sally catches you up."

"Great," Adrienne said. "This all looks perfect," she said, indicating the room.

Dad looked at her soberly. "I've put a lot of trust in Henry Claus' recommendation of you. He said your voice was the best of the San Jose Players who hadn't auditioned for us in the spring."

"I hope I don't disappoint you, or him."

"I hope we live up to your expectations too," Dad said, a smile erasing the depth of his concern.

#

When I checked the costume room, I found that Nan's Glad Rags, our supplier, had delivered the last of the Fiddler order. Of course, all of Tzeitel's outfits would have to go back. They'd been hemmed for Marla, who was my size and figure, while Adrienne was at least a few inches taller, more like Melody.

And it wasn't just letting out the hems, the bodices would need more room too. Adrienne had one of those knockout figures that turned men's heads. Other women would call her over-endowed. Thank goodness Jason was fairly tall, and I wouldn't have to hunt up lifters for him.