In Theda Bara's Tent (as Reviewed by Publisher's Weekly)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Outside, New York was decorated for Christmas, lights strung everywhere, Christmas trees for sale, the smell of pine perfuming the air around them on the sidewalk, a New England smell. Salvation Army volunteers rang insistent bells. My plan was to walk off my agitation, just be by myself, but then I found myself near the Waldorf, and it seemed a good idea to be miserable with my friend. I knew she’d be there because she couldn’t go out. If she did go out, she’d be mobbed by fans.  I arrived when her mother was out running an errand.
“Look!” she said and handed me a Pomeranian puppy. “It’s name is Fluff Ball.” She laid down an exercise mat. 
I took the puppy to the sofa and allowed it to cover my face with licks while Anita lay flat on her back, raising and lowering one leg at a time. After a few moments, the puppy settled down against me, leaning its little chin on my thigh, the weight of a finger.
What’s eating you?” Anita said in a pinched voice as she curled up and down.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m just sick of everything.”
“What did Nick Meadows say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You don’t want to see that guy.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“So the truth comes out,” she said, still doing situps. “You don’t really know him.”
“You calling me a liar?”
“Yeah.”
“When did you get Fluff Ball?”
“A few days ago. A fan left him for me. Read in the Inside Scoop that Rudy and me was splitting up and felt bad for me. Came in a cute little basket. What is it, Harry? What’s eating you?” Now she stood on her shoulders, legs in the air, and started pedaling.
“I don’t know.” My mind was full of that child writhing on the floor. I was weak from the sight. “Life stinks, that’s all.”
“You’re telling me. I don’t got nothing to look forward to.”
“Sure you do. You’re a big star.”
“Come on, Harry. What’s that supposed to mean.”
“I did see him, Anita. He invited us to his big shindig New Year’s Eve. Acted like I couldn’t afford a costume.”
Now she was all attention. “Are you kidding me, Harry? I can’t believe it!” She got up, took the puppy and danced the sleeping little thing around the room. “Do you have any idea what people go through to get an invite to that thing? Do you have any idea at all?”
“Who cares. I’m not going.”
 “I can’t go by myself, Harry. Did I ever ask you for anything before?” 
“I’m telling you, Anita. You don’t want to go.”
“I do too. I’m cooped up here all day long. What did he say?”
“He wants you to be a birthday present for his boyfriend.”
“How sweet!”
“I don’t want to go.”
“You only think about yourself all the time.”
“Everybody only thinks about themselves all the time.”
“Gandhi don’t.”
 “How do you know?”
“All I’m asking is to go to this one party. That’s all I’m asking. I just want to meet Nick Meadows in person. Wasn’t you ever a fan of anybody?”
“Theda Bara.”
“What?” She handed the puppy back to me. “You fell for that?”
“Hook, line and sinker.”
“She’s a nice girl. She knows about Rudy and me. Wasn’t she at that film fair where I met you?”
“That’s where I found out.”
“How?”
“I went into her tent after hours.”
Anita laughed. “Harry, you’re a hot sketch!” She walked to the mirror. “Do you think my arms are getting fat?”
Her arms were toothpicks. “Hardly, madam.”
“I could go as Little Bo Peep. You could be the devil you are. Only trouble is I cant go out to get a costume. Youll have to get the costumes, Harry.
“Don’t have time.”
Im cooped up in here day in and day out waiting for them lawyers. Please! Dont you understand? I wont have to play Anita Stewart there. The place will be swimming with celebs bigger than me. He aint a teetotaler, is he?
Not at all.
So itll be fun. Well get fried. She leaned in close to the mirror. My dark circles are the color of eggplant.

“New Years Eve is a lonely night,” I said, putting the puppy on a sofa pillow. “It comes around each year and asks the same question, How many friends do you have? The answer is always the same: too few.”
Anita came to the sofa and sat next to me. “Don’t talk like that, Harry. You ain’t in that orphanage no more.”
Back at the office, I found Etta in the costume department and asked if she would find costumes for Anita and me. For free? the mighty twig said, standing before me loaded down with garments. You want me to dress you and Anita Stewart for free?
Dont you want to meet Anita?
I do intend to meet her but not this way.

What way.
Not as a peon in the costume department at Fox News. As equals is how Im going to meet that dame.
So call it a freelance job.
Im not going to just call it that. It has to be that. Which involves money, in case you forgot what job means.
How much?
She looked up at me through her owlish glasses, then closed her eyes and I thought she was calculating. I see you as Titania and Oberon, she said with her eyes still closed. 
Which one am I?
Very funny, very funny. She continued toward her desk, me towering next to her.
What would the king of the forest wear?
What do you think hed wear? Hed wear the leftover costumes from Midsummer Night’s Dream that just closed. My friend works over there at Hammerstein’s.
We did not discuss this again. Just when I began rehearsing the words I was going to use to disappoint Anita, Etta arrived at the studio with both costumes made entirely by herself in her spare time at home. She made the masks too—intricate feathered things with sequins.

Anita hired a limousine that drove us to New Rochelle on New Years Eve. As the fairy queen Titania, she glowed in a gown of white satin and a tiara of white foxtails. My crown was a ring of ermine, my cape white velvet. We sat in the back seat of the car smoking cigarettes. Then he says he has a right to everything I earned from the time we got married because if it wasnt for him, Id be in some loony bin somewhere. Can you beat that? She opened her beaded bag, took out a hip flask, tipped it back into her mouth and handed it to me.
Whenever I shared a taste with a friend, I worried that it was not friendly to wipe the spit off. With a lover, of course, it didn’t matter. Our spits would have already combined. But Anita was not my lover and never would be because she did not appeal to me in that way. I wanted to be casual and informal, but my impulse was to wipe the rim of the flask. I took a swig without wiping as a sign of friendship, but she was looking out the window, so it was a waste and I could have wiped quickly. Anita took another swig from her flask and put it back in her beaded bag. Im already tired.
Whats Ma doing tonight?

Ma? Shes going out to Long Island to her friends. She really misses her mahjong club. Paramount called today. Did I tell you that? Offered me a picture.
Are you going to take it?
Sure. I like Adolph Zukor. Treated Mary so-called Pickford fair.
Nicks house was aglow with lights. People were bundled against the cold as they descended from expensive cars. When it was our turn, Anita said, I cant. I cant. I cannot.
Sure, you can.
I cant. Really, I cant.
Of course you cannot. But Titania can. She can do anything. Shes queen of the forest.
 Anita touched my hand. No, wait a sec. Not like that. She touched my hand again, and we both laughed because it really felt like a fairy had touched me, delicate as a spiderweb strand.
A team of butlers at the door, dressed as sheikhs, took coats from Carmen, Cleopatra, the devil, a Chinese Mandarin and an Eskimo. 

The ballroom was Egypt: sphinxes, an ice pyramid and wall hangings of Egyptian design. A full orchestra played the triumphal march from Aïda. Niko was Horus, the sun god, resplendent in a metallic gold costume—so handsome that Anita and I had to pause for a moment with mouths hanging open. Oh, my shoes! Anita whispered. Hold me up before I faint. Next to him was Toby as a vulture, the sacred bird of Egypt. His costume was of shining bluegreen silk painted with iridescent feathers of gold and peacock blue. His legs were painted to represent iridescent tail feathers, and he wore no mask. Holy moly! Anita whispered taking my arm. Did you ever see anyone prettier than that? Is it a boy or a girl?
When I greeted Niko, would I call him Niko to remind him of mucking out stalls? Nick Meadows, I said. This lovely Titania is Anita Stewart.
He turned to Toby. Sweetie, guess who this is.
Toby turned, saw us and said, A king and queen?
But whos the queen?
Her?
But guess whos under the costume.
Toby stood there perplexed. Im Anita Stewart, you gorgeous thing, she said, lowering her mask and holding her hand out to him.
His mouth fell open. He put his long, slender fingers to his chest and pretended to sink down. No. No you are not. No! Are you? I cant believe it! I love you! Ive seen everything you ever did! I love you! I just love you! Then he did a most girlish thing: he jumped up and clapped his hands and came down with them still clasped, his eyes pinned to Anita. Nicky! Look!

I know, sweetie. Happy birthday.
Youre adorable, she said as we were swept into the ballroom by the crush of new arrivals. Again, I felt stung by Niko. He hadn’t even said hello. Did he actually imagine I wanted to come to this stupid thing? I was doing him a favor.
      The waiters, culled perhaps from chorus lines, were dressed as man slaves, their bodies painted brown. They wore short skirts of striped material and no shirts. They circulated with trays of Champagne. Tables along the edges of the walls were heaped with food. Working our way toward the tables, Anita said, Im exhausted, and leaned heavily on my arm. This, I knew, was a reaction to seeing Lillian Gish in the crowd surrounded by admiring fans, dressed as a shepherdess but easily recognizable because she wasnt wearing a mask.
Maybe youre too hot. Take off your mask for a while.
Should I?
Sure.

Anita unclipped her mask and held it down by her side. Yeah, thats better. As we walked through the crowd, people fell back. Is that Anita Stewart? and, Hey! Theres Anita Stewart! and Whos with her? We paused to lift Champagne from a passing tray, and the man next to us, dressed as a French king, said, Could this be Anita Stewart? She was delighted and put her mask up as if he had caught her doing something naughty. George Peabody Converse, at your service, he said, bowing in an easy, charming way. He was older than were, gray at the temples. The orchestra began to play a waltz, and he offered his hand to Anita after saying to me, May I? I walked away trying to recall why his name was so familiar, then remembered that his father was the president of U.S. Steel.
This party was making me feel even worse than I thought it would. When I looked in the mirror at home, I thought the costume enhanced my handsomeness, but here I felt invisible.  When I left the apartment, I was Oberon, king of the forest, on his way to a party given by one of the most famous men in America and accompanied by one of the most famous women in America. Last year Kenny and I had gone to the Roosevelt Hotel to usher in the New Year with the Guy Lombardo Orchestra, both of us too shy to ask any of the girls there to dance. We made a pact that the following year, we would make ourselves ask five girls to dance before the stroke of midnight. But Kenny was in Chamonix, France, shooting the Winter Olympics where an eleven-year-old figure skater named Sonja Henie was making headlines.
It seemed as if everyone at this party had someone to talk to except me. There was Anita twirling around with a French king. She might have told me she would abandon me the second we walked in. I hadn’t even wanted to come. I was doing it just for her, and she let me wander around the stupid place getting jostled by all those hysterical revelers. High-pitched shrieks were supposed to be laughs. Ha, ha, ha, everyone was so happy. Why not. Free eats in a mansion the size of a castle. I should have stayed home. Couldnt have been worse than this, with everyone yukking it up all over the place. I downed one glass of Champagne, accepted another, downed that and looked around to see if there were any girls standing around waiting to be rescued. Maybe that Statue of Liberty over there. Too many people around her, and she was laughing in a phony way—sounded like a machine gun. I hated people. I hated everyone in the world. Might as well just spend the night stuffing myself with gourmet tidbits. I moved forward to the smoked-salmon roses and paté scarabs. There was a tray of tiny pyramids, and when I reached for one, my hand landed on the same one as a shapely female hand that belonged to a swan. She wore a white mask, her copper-colored hair dotted with white feathers. After you, I said.
No, she said, please. You first. She was graceful with a long neck, long arms and a graceful way of moving her head. She had a feathered mask over the top part of her face, but you could see her eyes, which were as clear as a lake in Maine. They were shiny with intelligence. Lets do it together, she said. One, two, three, and we extended our hands over the plate, go! We each lifted a small pyramid and popped it in our mouths, then wondered what it was. Caviar, she said, tasting her lips. Her mouth was shaped like a bow with a defining ridge around the edge, and inside was one of my favorite imperfections: a slight overbite.
Do you know many people here? I asked, wishing Id said something that didn’t sound like misery wanted company.
A few. Her lips did not return to home base immediately but stayed slightly puckered on the eeeuuuu of few. I was captivated. I was helpless. The eyes behind the mask flicked to mine and then away, like a glimpse of a white-tail deer in the woods. The harlequin over there inching his way closer to Lillian Gish is Modern Screen,” she said, “and let’s see, that Cleopatra is from Photoplay. And lets see, the Brunhilda near the chocolate fountain is Louella Parsons, movie editor at Universal News Service.

You know everyone.
I know who they are anyway.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one. You’re really pretty.”
“Thank you. But how do you know?”
“It’s leaking out around the edges of your mask. Take off your mask, and let me see.”
“No.”
“I thought Nick didnt want any publicity. The whole press corps is here.
Nick not want publicity? It is to laugh. Who are you supposed to be, some kind of king? Is that real ermine?”
“He told me he’d break the camera if I brought one.”
“Why? Where are you from?”
“Fox News.”
“Oh. That’s different. There are no cameras here. He can’t control pictures. Can you imagine if his fans saw him right now dancing with Toby? I did a piece once about his romance with Clara Bow.”
“But she’s a girl!”
“That’s what I mean.”
“I used to be a writer. I was entertainment editor of The Thinker.”
“The Thinker?”
“Eighth grade, Haverhill, Massachusetts.”
“Really? I’m from Newton, Mass.” We looked at each other for a long while.
“I can’t stop looking at you. Why is that? Are you always so smiley?” She tried to pinch off her smile, but it broke out again. “Oh! It’s a Charleston! Come on!” I took her hand and led her through the crowd to the dance floor as the orchestra played Aint She Sweet in a rollicking way. I had not done the Charleston with too many partners. Mostly I just did it alone in front of the mirror or with Kenny who made up hilarious steps, but for some reason, I was not at all reluctant to show all my moves. My swan stepped back with the right foot, kicked back with her left foot, swung her arms, knocked her knees together while crisscrossing her hands, seemed to touch the ground with no weight, raised her leg and smacked her knee, raised the other leg and smacked that knee. We grabbed hands, pulled back, pulled close, wiggled to the side, let go, twirled around, and when it was over, we fell into each other’s arms laughing and panting. I should have let her go. I knew I should not hold her beyond catching our breath, but she smelled so delicious!
Oberon, she said, pulling back and adjusting her costume. I think you have fairy dust in your eyes.

Is that what it is?
Or Champagne on the brain, she said. Even though there were hundreds of people there and now and then we were getting bumped by a tail or a wand or a wing, it felt as if we were alone. I took her in my arms again for a fox-trot, which I didn’t know how to do, held her close and whispered, You are so beautiful. When the song ended, we stood there awkwardly. I shouldn’t have squeezed her so hard. I probably had hurt her. And I stepped on her toes twice. I should have put on some of Kenny’s cologne. “Who do you write for?”
“Inside Scoop.”
“Have you ever had an inside scoop?”
“No,” she said, “boo hoo.” And she put her forehead on my chest before pulling back and laughing.
“Maybe tonight will be your big break.”
“I saw you come in with Anita Stewart. Do you love her?”
We smiled and looked into each other’s eyes. “Do you care?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Do you care?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your chin’s blushing.”
“It is not. Chins don’t blush.”
“Yours does.
“She could use some love.”
“You mean because of Rudy?”
“The rat.”
“Are you trying to pump me?” A mistake. She pulled back abruptly and turned away. How stupid I was! I broke the spell! “Swany. Don’t be mad. Come on. Tell me your name. Tell me your name. Come on. Turn around. Don’t be mad. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“A perfectly reasonable assumption,” she said.
“Come on. What’s your name? I’m Harry Sirkus. I work at Fox.”
It took her a while to accept my extended hand. Finally she did and said, “Molly Tepper.”
“Molly.”
“Yes.”
“Take off your mask.”
“You.”
“Okay.” I took off my mask and watched to see her expression. I passed. She liked me. I had never smiled so much in my whole life. “Now you.”
She unhooked her mask, and she was so beautiful, a sound came out of me, ohhhh. She laughed. “I used to be an ugly duckling,” she said.
“Me too.”
“You? I bet you were an adorable little boy.” She blushed and changed the subject. “I did a piece about Nick Meadows one time. The story was called ‘The Price They Pay for Fame. It began, ‘In the glittering world of international fame, health, friends, beauty, even life itself, are sacrificed on the altar of terrible ambition.’ Our eyes seemed to have a life of their own. They just fixed on each other and stayed there searching, searching. Fame imposed on Nick Meadows the curse of nerves, Molly said. He forced himself through performance after performance when he should have been resting.
The orchestra played a waltz, and I took her in my arms and pretended I knew how to waltz. She felt exactly right, fit against my body as if we were two halves. George will never get over this night, she said into my shoulder. He adores Anita Stewart. We twirled around a few times, but I didnt steer well, and we kept bumping into other couples. But even that was cause for fun because each time we collided, we said, “’Scuse me!” at the same time. The music ended, and I was afraid shed walk away, so I tried to hold her with a question. How do you know George?
He’s my boss. He owns the Inside Scoop. She did not move away. “Look, hes having to share her. We stood close together and watched Anita across the room talking to Toby, who hugged her, let her go, hugged her again and turned her around so he could examine her costume. Niko, the sun king, stood next to him, Tobys proud lord, his guffaw ringing out over the music. George was waiting for Tobys gushing to be finished so he could dance again. I hadnt seen Anita so happy in a long time.
I kept thinking that any minute, Molly would have had enough of me and move on, but she didnt, and we found ourselves on the dance floor at the countdown to midnight. Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight, everyone chanted together, all of us on this earth not knowing what fate had in store and most of us tipsy. When the drum banged and the orchestra played Auld Lang Syne, we looked at each other and didn’t know what to do. All around us, people were kissing and slapping each other on the back. Some woman, laughing, threw herself at me and planted a kiss on my mouth. Then another woman did the same thing, and from the edge of my eye, I saw that some man was kissing Molly, so I pushed the woman away and tore the man away from Molly. I took her in my arms and kissed her, and she did not pull away. She stayed there, and I could hear her breathing and taste her. I felt like swooning. When we pulled apart, we both staggered for a moment.
The band switched to Happy Birthday, and a gigantic birthday cake—the size of a wading pool with twenty-one candles in the shape of obelisks and each about a foot high—was pulled by Roman gladiators into the middle of the floor on a rolling cart made to look like a chariot. We all started singing Happy Birthday, and Toby came forward to blow out the candles, but he couldn’t get them all, so he threw up his hands and said, “Help! Everybody help!” and dozens of people in costume went forward and blew on the cake.
Molly whispered, “Yuk.”
From across the room, George waved and walked over to us with Anita. Happy New Year, Molly, he said, giving her a peck on the cheek, then turning to introduce Anita, who stepped into my arms and sunk her weight against me. Confetti sprinkled down from the ceiling, white balloons were released and rose up, the orchestra blared, horns tooted, people were shouting. Anita whispered, Rudy didnt even call to wish me Happy New Year. He didnt send flowers or nothing. I gave her little skeleton a sympathetic squeeze.
Molly, George said, allow me to introduce Anita Stewart. Miss Stewart this is Molly Tepper.
 She extended her hand to Anita. Its a great pleasure, Miss Stewart, she said. Ive admired you since the first time I saw you in The Wood Violet.
Okay, Anita said.
Are you having a good time? Molly asked Anita.

I guess so.”
You like to dance, I could see that. George is a great dancer, dont you think?
For an old guy, sure. Our laughter showed her mistake so she gave him an apologetic kiss on his cheek. His surprise and delight was endearing. Im pooped, Harry, Anita whispered, turning me away from Molly and George. I been gracious and down to earth all night. Can we go? We shook hands with George and Molly, but I didn’t let Molly’s hand go, and she had to tug it away.
I took Anita by the arm and escorted her across the floor toward the door. In the back seat of the car, speeding along the Henry Hudson Parkway, Anita said, You really liked that swan girl, didnt you? I shrugged. You wanted to have nookie with that cookie.
Shes a reporter for Inside Scoop.
I know. He owns it. His father bought it for him. Hes loaded.
Did he get anything out of you?

I fed him some crap about my new picture. No such thing as too much publicity, right?  Anita lit a cigarette. Im taking a bath when I get back. They got bath salts there. Free. Mas staying out on the island. She took off her foxtail tiara and scratched her head. Rudy thinks hes better than me. Comes out in little ways. Makes reference to vacation spots that only the hobnobs go to and if you showed up there they wouldnt let you in. I dont mean you, I mean me too. Even now Im Anita Stewart they wouldnt let me in. My mother-in-law wont even talk to Ma. If you didnt grow up in her set, you aint real. You know what I mean? She thinks she owns America, and shes allowed you and me to come in, and aint that big of her. Shes never invited Ma anywhere. One time they invited us for Thanksgiving, and I said sure well come, but Ma has to come too. I cant leave Ma alone on Thanksgiving. So you know what they did? They canceled the whole thing and went out to a restaurant by themselves.
Good riddance to bad rubbish, I said, but I was thinking about Molly. Her kiss!
Youre telling me. You know what his mother said when Rudy told her were splitting up? She goes, ‘Its about time.’ I hope Ma didnt have trouble getting out to the Island. You think she got out there safe?
Sure she did. Your limos got snow chains. What did you think of Nick Meadows?

He dont like women, me included. But aint his boyfriend handsome!  He’s got this closet upstairs, Harry. Guess what’s in it?”
“Did you think she was pretty?”
“Who? Oh, her. Guess what was in the closet. Just guess. You have three guesses.”
“Did you see her eyes?”
“What are you, in love or something? Guess what was in the closet.”
“Doesn’t she have the cutest teeth?”
“Harry, you ain’t being no fun at all.”
“Because I already know. Nick showed it to me.”
We made a can-you-believe-it snort and looked out the window at the snow, lace drifting slowly from the sky. Anita said, “Do we have to give these costumes back to that little midget that visited me?