Thank You for Ten: Short Fiction About a Little Theater Page 22
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She survived the mention of her and her work in the announcements to the audience before the start of Heidi on opening night. She survived the small presentation during intermission when she was asked to pull the curtain open on the restored painting. And she survived the round of applause, the various comments, the questions and the congratulations from the patrons as they made their way back for the second half of the show. Everything calmed down once Dr. Gruber handed her the check for her work, (which amounted to 100 dollars more than they had agreed to). She put the check in her pocket and joined the rest of the audience for act two of Heidi.
She thought the kids were terrific, if a bit too fast and clumsy at times. She clapped warmly at the end when they all took their company bow. After the show, as the audience meandered into the lobby again, she approached Emma.
"Congratulations," she told the director. "That was so much fun."
"Thank you, and to you too," Emma said, gesturing toward the painting. "I didn't get to see it at intermission. You're quite gifted."
Alicia had survived the many compliments at intermission. She would survive this one as well.
"Speaking of art, what a great mountain Sarah painted," Alicia said. "So colorful. I could almost smell the mountain air."
Emma laughed. "You know she'd love to see you, she's getting dressed in the back, can you wait a few minutes? I'll send her out."
"Sure, I'll be right here."
A few more patrons expressed their appreciation for her work as they made their way out of the building. She thanked each of them, only casting casual glances at the painting. In fact she'd hardly looked at it all night. Somehow it seemed out of place to do so. Like going back to your high school prom the year after you graduated.
"Hi," Sarah's little voice chimed in through the thinning crowd. Alicia turned around to greet her.
"Hi there, I really liked your set. Such beautiful mountains."
"Thank you," Sarah said, walking towards the Dionysus painting. "I worked hard. Tell me about fixing him."
Alicia stood next to Sarah, answering her questions, pointing out the things she'd done, what sort of equipment she used to do it. She did not point out the small imperfections that still bothered her.
"Did you sing to him?" Sarah asked.
Alicia blinked. "Did I sing?"
"To him," Sarah pointed at the painting. "I like to sing to my pictures. Grandma sings to her plants to make them bloom. I sing to my pictures to make them bloom."
"That's a lovely thing to do," said Alicia. "But you know, I never tried that. But I'll tell you a secret."
Sarah cupped her hand over her ear. Trying not to smile, because this was serious business, Alicia knelt down to Sarah's height and whispered in her ear, "I may not sing, but sometimes I talk to my paintings. I talked to him a few times."
"About what?" Sarah whispered back.
"Oh, about all kinds of things. Do you ever talk to yours, or just sing?"
"I talk sometimes," Sarah said. "Sometimes they talk back."
"Do they really?"
"Sometimes. But you have to listen really carefully. And they don't always use words. If you don't have to have words, sometimes they talk back."
Alicia didn't hide her smile this time. She looked over her shoulder toward the painting. A couple was standing in front of it. When they departed, two gleaming eyes and an unflappable grin revealed themselves to her.
"They sure do, Sarah. They sure do."
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About the Author
Ty Unglebower is a freelance writer and sometime stage actor living in Brunswick, Maryland. Having been introduced to the theater in college, (making it his minor) Ty has appeared in nearly 30 stage productions since. That passion informs his fiction writing, regardless of the subject and setting.
If you enjoyed this story collection, consider purchasing Ty’s debut novel, Flowers of Dionysus, also set in the Little Dionysus Playhouse, available in Spring, 2015.