Who Is Vera?

ELEVATOR OUT. 

Tami stared at the sign on the elevator doors, as if it were in a foreign language. That sign sent her into a ten second childish tantrum. “No. No. No. Not again!” Tami protested. With no other options, she turned and slowly headed for the stairs. 

As Tami made her way up the backstairs to the fourth floor dressing rooms, she stopped on every landing to catch her breath. At each one she cursed the name of the person who decided performers should enter the theatre through a “secret” or “VIP” door.

“Why is it we can’t use the same door audience members use?” she questioned between breaths. “Clearly nobody factored in broken elevators!” 

Tami continued and as she did, her knees squealed in opposition. 

It’s been an exhausting week of self tape submissions and “live” zoom auditions. It was filled with memorizing pages and pages of script excerpts, driving her roommate crazy as she paced the floor rehearsing in their tiny apartment, and the occasional crying session thanks to her ongoing battle with imposter syndrome. 

Although she was two hours early for call time, she scribbled something on the sign-in sheet to indicate her arrival. It resembled chicken scratch, but her stage manager, Drew, didn’t care much. As long as he saw her with his own eyes he was satisfied. Tami threw out a blanket “hello” to whomever was in earshot before entering her dressing room. The smell of lavender, that filled the air, froze Tami in place. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath through the one nostril that wasn’t blocked, and let out a long sigh. The other ladies hadn’t arrived yet, to Tami’s delight, so she took advantage of the calm before the storm. She loved her fellow cast mates, but the never-ending gossip, the vocal battles, cackling laughter, and constant flow of people in & out, could be a bit much.

Since she had time, she decided to do a meditating/stretching session to center herself before the show. One of the rules she lived by was simple, ‘leave your personal problems at the door’. Admittedly, it wasn’t always easy to follow, but she tried. Perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone…energize her body and find some peace. She grabbed her mat, earbuds, towel, and headed down the hall to her personal oasis…the empty supply closet. She and the maintenance guy, Ernest, made a pact. He “forgets” to lock the door and she makes sure not to leave any evidence of her presence behind. It’s worked well for the last 2 months. 

Tami popped in her earbuds, hit shuffle on her playlist and took a seat on the floor. Today she felt it best to start with some leg stretches. After all, her knees were still wincing from that long ascent to the dressing room. She had to muffle the grunts and groans so as to not give away her secret oasis. After her leg stretches, Tami laid flat to loosen her lower back muscles. 

“Oh man. This probably wasn’t a good idea.” she whispered aloud. It felt so good to finally be still. She could feel the floor press against every part of her legs, buttocks, back, arms and shoulders. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink into the mat. Tami proceeded with her mindful breathing exercises.

***

The sound of the orchestra could be heard throughout the building. Percussions, horns, and woodwinds swelling in perfect pitch. 

Tami was caught off-guard. She wondered why the orchestra was there so early. Were they rehearsing? Maybe they had a new player tonight. 

“Wait…,” she gasped, her eyes growing larger by the second. 

Panicked, Tami jumped up and took off running down the hall. She started throwing off any piece of clothing that wouldn’t leave her completely revealed. That sound she heard was the opening number of the show. Her character is pivotal in the first scene of the first act. The exposition given by her character is what moves the storyline forward. She had to get out there on that stage. 

Tami was out of breath when she finally made it to the costume rack. She began throwing costume pieces everywhere in search of her beaded black dress and silver three inch heels that complemented it. 

From the stage she could hear a cast member singing her parts, which only induced more panic. 

“Oh, they hate me. They hate me. They really hate me,” Tami kept repeating as she searched.

On her hands and knees, she found the dress and shoes in the pile she’d created. They were on her body, seemingly, in under sixty seconds. There was no time to find her wig so she snatched the one closest to her. An auburn, short, curly wig that would have made the red-headed orphan blush. Needless to say, it definitely was not her color. 

From where she stood, Tami could see the entire cast on stage. The song was coming to an end and she had to figure out how to enter without being a distraction and without being noticed. On top of that, Tami couldn’t remember her lines. There’s no doubt her anxiety was causing the blockage. The harder she tried to recall the lines, the worse it got and now she was out of time.

Tami entered from upstage with her back to the audience, crouched down just as the orchestra hit the button to the song. When the applause died down, Tami walked down stage to deliver her exposition.

“I’m V-E-R-A coming atcha in the liveliest way”

“Is she rapping?” a cast member blurted out. This acknowledgement sent the rest of the cast into hysterics.

***

“Noooooooo,” Tami screamed out as she popped up from her mat. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, almost bursting through her chest. She placed her clammy left hand over her heart and looked around. She reached for her watch to check the time. It was 12:45 pm, which means she’d been asleep in her oasis for an hour.

Relieved, it was all a dream or “dream-mare” which she called it, Tami packed up her belongings and headed back to the dressing room. She could hear a cacophony of voices, which meant the full cast and crew had arrived. 

She, once again, yelled out a blanket “hello” to everyone. Her cast mate and friend, Renee, was in the dressing room cleaning her makeup brushes. Tami slid into her own chair and whispered to Renee. “Ok. So I’m going to share this with you, but don’t tell anyone else. If you can’t find me before a show, come down the hall to the door with the broken ‘S’ on it. I just might be in there.” 

Perplexed, Renee sat silent for a few seconds before whispering back, “Will do”. 

“I had an actor’s nightmare,” she confessed.

“Oh girl! I understand now,” Renee said, opening her arms to console Tami.