THE FEMININE VIEWPOINT®

by and about women

Tap Beats in the Dark

"The theater!" Her mother had said again and again with a contempt that was like swearing. "What indeed could prompt you to leave your father and me in search of something you will never find!"

A piano drew Jeanne back, away from the memory of these words. It played a medly of Gershwin on the stage. She heard the sound of taps. Irregular beats between rhythmic ones. Slowly she advanced down the aisle between the empty seats.

When she came to the front row the taps stopped, then started in a walk close to the edge of the platform. A tall willowy young woman came from the shadows. She wore what apparently were once blue jeans and had become now almost white, and a too large man's shirt that hung loosely on her.

"Well hel-lo," she said, and knelt down so that her knees nearly touched her chin. The woman put her hands out. Jeanne hesitated, not permitting herself to know why, and let herself be helped onto the stage.

"Have a seat." The dancer unfolded a couple of chairs that were leaning on the wall at the side. "What can we do you for?" she said.

one

by

Gabrielle Ganelle

Smoke folded like tulle under the light around the piano. A fly dipped now and then through the light. "A job," Jeanne said. And she thought she knew what it must feel like to make a last request.

The woman wiped her tongue over her top lip importantly; nodded. "What do you do? Don't tell me." She raised a hand dramatically; it looked green in the dim light. "You're an actress. Experience? Certainly. School plays. You won a beauty contest back home and ..."

"Please. I ..."

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"Look, baby doll," again she raised her hand, "you may be another Sarah Bernhardt, you may be an angel but . . . as a matter of fact, you're not the right kind of angel." She pulled the chair from under her. Gently she sounded a few taps, her body bent a little as if listening for their echo. "Where you from?" Two more taps. "Ohio? Chicago maybe?" Heel-toe. Toe-heel. She seemed to talk with her feet like people who talk with their hands. "California?"

"Please," Jeanne said. There was something about the sway of the dancer's body, despite her ill-fitting

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