Howard stepped onto the stage and, looking at the audience. began.
" 'It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,' " he recited. " 'Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars. It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, and smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men,'
" Put out the light.' " he continued moving toward the bed and Desdemona. 'and then put out the light..." "
On through the speech he went, never more dramatic, never more convincing until he reached his final lines...
"This sorrow's heavenly. It strikes where it does love.' " Desdemona turned in the bed and Howard cried. 'She wakes..
He turned and froze. like Lot's wife in the Bible. I thought he'd never move again.
Gerta, in the correct costume and wig, cried back, " 'Who's there. Othello?' "
Howard's mouth opened and closed, but nothing emerged. Panicked, he turned toward the audience and then back toward
Gerta, who went on with. " 'Will you come to bed, my lord?' "
"Madame Senetsky!" Howard screamed.
"Bring down the curtain," we heard her shout back. And it fell like lead.
16 The Final Scene
Ironically, none of us truly appreciated the strength and the poise of Madame Senetsky as much as we did after the bedlam and confusion had begun. Without hesitation, she had Laura Fairchild sweep Gerta away, leading her back through the private residence and up to her apartment with a minimum of witnesses. We were told to report immediately to her office, and then she took the stage and addressed her guests calmly.
"My performers are, after all," she began. "still amateurs. There's been an unfortunate mix-up. Please, follow my son Edmond and the faculty to the ballroom, where we will begin our reception. I'll join you all as soon as I can. Thank you."
We heard the loud murmuring as the audience filed out. Behind the curtain, Howard was still sitting on Desdemona's bed, his head in his hands, no doubt moaning over the sabotaging of his great
performance.
Steven, the most confused. chanted. "What's going on? What's happening? Who was that? Huh? What's going on?"
None of us spoke. We marched quietly to the office. Steven lingered to see what Howard was going to do and then finally caught up with us in the hallway just outside the office.
"Hey," he cried. "What the hell is happening? Won't anyone tell me anything? Cinnamon, why weren't you out there to do the scene with Howard? Who was that?"
Cinnamon turned to him, her face cold and stern.
"Howard has been working with someone else in secret,' she said.
"Huh?"
He looked at the rest of us, who stared with one solid wall of silent wrath. It was enough to make him step back and calm down. We entered the office and sat on the nail-head red leather settee that was angled toward the large, dark oak desk. It was neatly organized with a gold framed picture of Madame Senetsky receiving a Tony award for her role of Katherine in The Taming of the Shrew.
Steven waited in the hallway and then entered with Howard, whose face was still the color of a ripe apple. He stood there, looking at us.
"Did someone here actually think that was a funny thing to do?' he asked in a very controlled voice of rage.
"No." Cinnamon said. "Actually, we were expecting you to continue with your role-playing and start to call her Gerta Berta."
Howard's crimson quickly paled to the color of cherry blossoms.
"What?" he managed to ask in a throaty voice.
"Can someone please tell me what this is all about?" Steven cried, his arms up.
"It's about Madame Senetsky's daughter and how she was first abused by her father and then by a so-called budding thespian, who took disgusting advantage of her," Cinnamon told him, throwing a look full of darts at Howard,