Nathan's Private Journal, October 12, 2011 - "The Theater" Part IV

I stared sadly at the rows of dilapidated chairs and torn hangings.  Plaster had fallen from the once ornate ceiling, as well as the walls.   There was dust everywhere and a feeling emptiness that seemed to reach inside me.

"I've heard people say they can still hear the laughter and applause when they come here," Mae told me in a wistful voice.

"I'm not one of them," I replied with a candor and bluntness that took me by surprise.  "This place is as empty as a tomb... and yet not quite."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mae smile.  "You didn't use to be so direct," she remarked.

"Only with you," I reply and turned to face her.  "And do you know why?  Because you told me that the was the way you preferred me to be.  Direct and honest."  

Her smile widened and for a moment I could see the girl I met in this very place all those years ago.

Taking my hand she led me out of the balcony area and back towards the stairs.  As we walk, I notice the top of one of the pillars.  Being so high up, it seems to have avoided accumulating too much dust and can see the gold painted scroll work.  It glistens in the what little light there is coming through the down the stairs.   

The sight makes me smile.  To see hints of the old grandeur of the place still in tact, in spite of all the decay that surrounds us, brings a warmth to my heart.  It also raises suspicion that has been growing in the back of my mind since I got Mae's phone call.

But I say nothing.  I just wish to enjoy being with her again.  As we both said, it had long time since we'd last spent time together.  We make our way down the stairs carefully.  A fall wouldn't do me much harm, but Mae would be another matter.  Besides, it gave me an excuse to keep her close.  Even after all this time, the smell of her was intoxicating to me.  There were so many things I wanted to say and do right then, but I kept myself in check.  She had brought me here for a reason and I was curious to learn what it was.  

Once we reached the bottom of the steps she led me down a corridor that was as familiar to me as my own name.  I'd carried her down this way one night after she'd slipped and twisted her ankle just outside the theater.  It had been snowing and the sidewalks had been slippery.  She was trying to get back on her feet when I arrived on the scene and scooped her up as if she weighed nothing.  The gesture had impressed her.  Until then she thought of me as a real sweet guy who could use a little beefing up.    She started looking at me in a different light after that.

And now, over sixty years later, we were passing this way again.  Surprisingly, the corridor was in better shape than I expected.  There were sections of wallpaper missing and the ceiling needed some work, but there was an elegance that was still visible.  As we explored, we talked about our days here and of old friends.  Some of them were still among the living, while others had left this world.  Yet, all of the ones who had been here, had left something of themselves.   

I know this sounds contrary to what I said earlier about the place being empty, but there was something in the air.

Now we had reached the stage and were carefully making our way among the fallen curtains and forgotten ropes an pulleys, which I had worked so many times in my first few years at this theater.  I still remembered how to operate each and every one of them, and what they did.  I also knew how to fix them and could get them up and working again within a short time.

At that point the suspicion that had been in the back of my mind grew, but I said nothing as we continued our exploration.  Soon we found ourselves in the area of the dressing rooms.  Vandals had left their marks on the doors, but had done little else.  

Another wave of nostalgia swept over me as we peaked into each room.  One of them left the two of us breathless.  It had been converted to be a prop room and there were still some items inside.  Of course time and neglect, along with some hooliganism, had left their marks here.  But what really moved me was the fact that one or two pieces of furniture I recognized.  "That table and wardrobe, they..." I began, only to have Mae cut in.

"There were in my dressing room," she breathed in awe.  "I can't believe they're still here."

"Would you like to take them home?" I asked, even though I already knew her response.

"No, they belong here.  Or rather in my old dressing room," she said with her usual confidence.  But then she sighed and added more quietly, "Not that anyone will ever see them."

"Not unless we buy the place and restore it to its former glory," I replied.  "That is why you asked me to come here, isn't it?"  

Mae didn't answer right away.  She merely smiled and slipped her arms around my neck and whispered, "The thought had occurred to me.  But there was another reason why I asked you to come."  Then she kissed me, good and hard.

TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT TIME...

A Quick Word From The Author...

Sorry to interrupt this current storyline, but I felt it was important to let you all know what will be happening in the next eight-nine weeks.  As you all know I'm attending university classes.  What I haven't shared is the fact that in addition to my studies I also have to perform 'Service Hours' for one of my classes, and that is taking up more and more of my time, along with the increased workload from my instructors.  I'm spending almost 7-9 hours a week, outside of class, to work on my Pre-Calculus homework and studies alone.  

Furthermore, I'm struggling with trying to get Nathan's first novel "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" into shape and sent to Beta-Readers for feedback.  Unfortunately, with my schedule I've still got 50,000 words of editing to do before that happens. 

What does this all mean for this blog?  I'm going to finish the current story with Nathan and his stroll down Memory Lane with Mae West next week.  After that, instead of leaving you all high and dry without any new material, I will post snippets from the novel so you can see what's coming.  I will of course be careful not to reveal too much of the story-line itself or some of the outcomes.  I want to keep you all guessing and wondering where the book is going to go.  

I can promise you will see other sides of Nathan, including some darker moments.  But rest assured he will still be the fellow you all have come to like and be intrigued by.  And as here on the blog, you will be seeing and hearing from him in his own words, but also through the eyes of others.  

I hope you'll all stay with me as the day the book is released draws nearer.  And if anyone is interested in being one of my Beta-Readers, please let me know in the Comments section below.  

For those who do not know what a Beta-Reader is or what's expected of them I'll explain.  A Beta-Reader is a person who gets an advanced copy of the novel in its current form to read.  I will need you to read the entire story and provide honest feedback, as well as letting me know if you run across any spelling or grammar issues.  Please note, that I will need you to finish reading the entire book and provide me with your feedback no later than the end of November.  So only volunteer if you are sure you can do this.  After all, I do know the holidays are almost upon us and people will have family and other things coming up.  The book is 84,000 words long, which makes it about a third shorter than my two previous novels.

Thank you all for your continued support and I look forward to hearing what you have to say.  Again, the fourth and final part of the "Theater" story will be up sometime this coming week, so stay tuned.

Nathan's Private Journal, October 12, 2011 "The Theater" - Part III

A hand touches my arm at that moment and I'm brought back to the present.  

"Are you okay, Uncle Nate?" asks Olivia, studying me closely with those big blue eyes of hers.

I nod and sigh, "Yeah, just took a little trip down memory lane.  I met some of my best friends in this place."

"Including, my Aunt Mae," she smiles.  "You were thinking of her, weren't you?"

I give her an inscrutable look and ask, "Now what makes you think that?"

"You had a little smile on your face," she replies with a grin.  "It's the same one you always get whenever you tell me stories about my godmother.  God, how I miss her.  She passed away when I was only seven, but I still remember how full of life and sass she always was."

"I know what you mean," I tell her and look out at the empty theater.  "She's the reason this place is still standing."

"I thought you had a hand in keeping this place alive," remarks Gina who has joined us.  "Don't you own the building?"

"I do, but it was your girlfriend's famous godmother who made that happen," I explain and once again my mind slips back across the years.  This time it only goes back to 1970, when a phone call brought me back to this building for the first time in thirty years.

The entryway was dark and there had been a bunch of red posts plastered on the doors.  The frames on the walls which usually held posters about the coming performances were empty and dark.  The sight had saddened me.  Overall, things didn't look too bad from out here.  But when I slipped inside, that was when the truth really of how bad things had gotten really hit home.

The old concession stand was still standing, just at the bottom of a grand staircase.  Both had seen better days.  The shelves were empty, except for dust and cobwebs where an industrious spider had been hard at work sometime in the past.  But there was no sign of the arachnid now.  I stared forlornly at my surroundings, and remembered how it looked in the past.  This area was always teeming with people waiting in line to purchase some goodies to enjoy once they'd reached their seats in theater.  Some would make their way up the staircase, passing through the ornate archways at the top, while others would head for the doors here on the ground floor, which led to the main seating area.  

In my mind I could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowds who were eager to see my cohorts on stage, performing and delighting the audience to no end.  But there were no sounds now.  Just the echoes of my footsteps across the tiled floor.  Yet I wasn't alone.  I could sense a familiar presence nearby, watching me from above.

Turning and looking up I see a vision of beauty from my past staring down at me.  Even at 77 she still made my heart skip a few beats.  

A warm smile crosses her lips as she puts one hand on her hip and leans up against the railing and says, "Well, are you gonna stand down there all night or are you finally gonna come up and see me?"

Needless to say I practically fly up the stairs to.  I could've actually flown, but sometimes my abilities made her a little uncomfortable.  Although on this occasion she gave me a look and shook her head.  "What kept ya?  I half expected you to just leap up here and into my arms."

"I still might, Baby Mae," I smiled.  

That made her laugh.  "There's a name I haven't heard in decades," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.  

But I could tell she was delighted, deep down.  

"I've missed you," I tell her.

"The feeling's mutual," she replies, and I can tell she means it.  For one thing, she's dropped the sassy act.  

Then she takes my arm and we start walking.  "I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to come here. tonight," she says after a moment or two.

"The thought has crossed my mind," I admit, but I'm mostly enjoying being with her again.  It had been too long.  

"I wanted to show you something," she explains, and then gives me a look.  "And I don't mean anything naughty."

Naturally I protested my innocence to no avail.  

"Don't give me that old routine.  I'm the one the one who taught it to you, remember?" she laughs.

"Like it was yesterday," I reply.

Here she became more quiet and said, "A yesterday that had a lot of months and years in front of it.  And here's the proof."

She opened the doors to the upper balcony seating and carefully stepped through...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Nathan's Private Journal, October 12th,2011 "The Theater" - Part II...

Staring at the playbill in my hands, I couldn't believe my eyes.  It was a an old vaudeville poster, only the paper it was printed on was quite new.  Then I spotted the dates for the performance and blinked.  "December 2011!" I read out loud and then turned to Olivia and Gina, who were standing there trying to look innocent and hopeful at the same time.

"You want to put together a vaudeville show?" I said, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"More like a review of some of the more famous acts," Olivia told me.  "And no one knows them like you do."

"That's true," I admitted and looked at the floorboards of the stage.  They weren't the original boards of course.  I'd had those torn up and replaced when I bough the theater back in 1970, with an old friend who'd talked me into buying the place with her.

I remembered feeling a little melancholy about having the original floorboards torn up.  After all, I made my stage debut on them back in 1911 with the Marx Brothers.  It was only a small part, but the brothers had made sure my brief moment on the stage had been a hilarious one.  But after that night, a number of the other performers started asking me to help out in their acts.  Soon I was spending most of my time in front of the curtain instead of behind it, like it had for ten years.  Not that I had minded. 

From the day I'd started in 1910 until that night, I had worked and learned every aspect of what went on behind the scenes of every show.  From wardrobe, to sets, to actors having jitters or meltdowns, I'd seen it all and had helped out whenever I could.  By the time my friends had dragged me onto the stage with them, I'd even stood in for the stage manager a number of times.  Everyone seemed to turn to me, and so many asked time and again, "Why aren't you out there?"  This question came up more and more after I started helping some of the performers during rehearsal by standing in as they straight man or victim.

My old pal Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle was the first who started training me to be a stand-in for some of his acts, but he never got to use me, as much as he wanted to.  He wanted to see me get my moment to shine and did that night, when the Groucho and company finally got me out in front of the audience, and I loved every minute it of.  Roscoe had just started doing movies by then and had urged me to go with him to Hollywood and be part of his films.  But alas, film could not capture my image and I came back here, much to the delight of the brothers.  

Like Roscoe, Groucho and his siblings had learned of my true condition and found new ways to exploit some of my abilities as well as teaching me all about comedic timing, patter, musical instruments and other gifts.   We were able to pull off certain tricks that defied all explanation and even had more than one professional magician wondering how we'd pulled them off.  (But that's a story for another entry)

But they weren't the only ones who were glad to have me back.  The other performers had missed my easygoing manner and how I handled things both on and behind the stage.  And I soon found that even the crowds had missed me, as well.   Even though I never headlined an act of my own, the audience always greeted me warmly. But soon my time at this theater came to an end, as I moved on with  Groucho and company to tour other bigger venues in the vaudeville circuit.  But every so often, we'd come back to this theater and it was on one of those return engagements that I found myself being asked to help out one of the newer performers, who needed a silent straight man to react to her singing.

Naturally I was only too glad to help out and that was when I was introduced to a petite fourteen year old girl, who would become one of my dearest and most cherished friends.  And in 1970, she would be the one who called me back to this theater, which had by then had been abandoned and practically falling down, and talk me into buying it with her so we could restore it to its former glory.  

But, on the day we met, neither of us knew what the future was going to bring us.  Or that we'd become so close that we'd fall deeply in love.  She only gave me her stage name the first time we met, "Baby Mae" she called herself.  But down the road the world would know her by a slightly different name.  And she would become not only a star but a legend...

  

To be continued...

Message From The Author....

I want to apologize for the lack of updates lately.  I'm attending university and have a major exam coming up this Thursday and am studying like crazy.  Let me tell you, Pre-Calculus and I just do not see eye-to-eye very easily.  Luckily, my wife, the graduate with the B. S. in Mathematics, is helping tutor me, so hopefully I'll do all right.

But rest assured, once the exam is over on Thursday, I'll be working on continuing the current story about the "Theater" which has several poignant memories for our favorite vampyre, Nathan

Also I wanted to let you all know that "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" is on schedule to be released this December, as planned.  The book will be available in paperback, and the following e-book formats: Kindle, Nook, Apple, Sony, etc.  I decided against going exclusively with Kindle for this book, after a number of readers asked if it would be available for Apple and Nook.

Currently the 2nd draft is fully under way, and I'll be sending it out to beta-readers soon, so stay tuned. 

That's all for now.  I thank you for your patience and continued support.  I'm really looking forward to unleashing Nathan and company on you all come December, where all the characters who've been leaving entries on this blog will come together in one epic story.

Note: Image above is NOT necessarily the finalized cover.

Nathan's Private Journal, October 12th, 2011 "The Theater" - Part I

Yesterday I brought Lisa to this theater so she could learn about vintage clothing styles, corsets, and costuming.   Tonight, I've returned, just as I have so many times before.  

It's quiet and peaceful, especially after the shows have ended.  I can still hear a few of the girls changing clothes and cleaning up after tonight's performance.  As they told Lisa yesterday, there's a lot more to burlesque than just taking your clothes off.    The same could be said for vaudeville and just about any other type of live performance.  Bands have entertained audiences on this stage, as has many actors and actresses.  In fact I did my part in "Arsenic and Old Lace" around this time last year.  Originally I wanted to the play the role of the the criminal brother who'd had plastic surgery to make him look like Boris Karloff, but instead I wound up with the lead role of Mortimer Brewster, the straight man who's surrounded by one cousin who thinks he's Teddy Roosevelt, and two sweet old aunts who also happen to mercy-kill the occasional visitor who's life had become lonely and sad.

Everyone insisted I take that role because "You're too nice-looking to play the villain... and besides your too short to play a Boris Karloff look-alike".  Curse my average height for a guy from the 1860's.  I mean really, five foot seven isn't that short, is it?  Sigh.  

Before I can ponder my 'shortcomings' Olivia appears from one of the wings.  Her long wavy blonde hair frames her oval face in gold.  Her blue eyes light up as she looks at me.  Her smile practically illuminates the entire stage as she comes over for a hug.  

"I'm glad you came back again so soon," she murmurs holding me tightly.  "I've missed you something awful."

  

"The feeling is mutual," I reply putting her into a dip.

Her smile widens and then shrinks as a pensive look crosses her lovely features.  "I'm sorry things didn't work out for us."

"So am I," I tell her honestly.  She was one of those rare people I could've seen myself settling down with.  Especially after the night of passion we'd shared on her twenty-fifth birthday, seven years ago.  But in the end I knew she'd made the right decision.  Her heart longed for another who even now was stepping out onto the stage and clearing their throat rather loudly.

Still in the dip, Olivia let's her head fall backwards and says, "Relax Gina, we're just talking."

Looking up I see only Gina's silhouette, but she's struck an enticing pose that I know is not meant for me.  A moment later she steps out onto the stage and once again I remember why Olivia fell for this woman.  Gina is the living embodiment of  a 'Smoking Hot Latina' beauty.  She's also got a slightly insecure streak when it comes to me and Olivia, who I quickly bring back to an upright position.  I even pull out a handkerchief and pretend to dust her off.

Much to my relief this makes Gina laugh. It's a lovely laugh and genuine.  Obviously, she's more confident in where things stand between me and her love.  

As she draws closer I see her dark eyes turn to Olivia with a hopeful look in them.  "Did you ask him?" she whispers.

"Not yet," Olivia replies and quickly smiles at me.  I know that particular smile only too well. 

Quietly I pull out my wallet, doing the long-suffering father routine, and say, "Okay, so how much this time?"

"Hey, I never ask you for money!" Olivia protests loudly, her voice echoing off the walls of the empty theater.  "And I'm not about to start now."

My eyes narrow.  "You want me to do Arsenic and Old Lace for Halloween again, don't you?"

Both of the ladies give me wide innocent smiles.  

Immediately I realize that's not the case, they want something else.  "Okay, what's up?"

Gina quietly hands me a rolled up poster which I carefully unfurl.  A moment later my eyes widen and my mind is catapulted back across the decades...

My First Podcast Interview...

*We interrupt this blog with a special interview from "Life In The Hole"*

Hello everyone.  I apologize for interrupting your regular blog reading, but I spoke with Nathan and and the others, who were perfectly all right with my taking over the blog for this announcement.  

I was recently offered my a chance to be interviewed on a Podcast.  This was the first time I was asked to participate in a Podcast so I was only too happy to say yes.  

The podcast is called "Life In The Hole" and is hosted by Tony Mendoza, who is a writer and movie maker.  His current project "The Hole" is shaping up to be fascinating film that you won't want to miss.  I promise to keep you all posted on when it comes out.

My interview is about a half hour long and covers how I got into writing and also explores how I came up with my Para-Earth Series.    In particular, I get to go into greater depth as to "What" a Para-Earth is, as well as give you more insight into our favorite Vampyre, Nathaniel Steward.  

I know a lot of you have been enjoying the entries, but I've also been asked about what kind of vampyre Nathan is and how he became one.  This interview will hopefully answer a lot of those questions.  

So without further ado, here is the link to "Life In The Hole".  I hope you enjoy listening to it.  If you wind up having questions for me, please don't hesitate to contact me in the comments section below, or through Google+. 

http://lifeinthehole.com/allan_krummenacker/