Something that I like to do is ask the what if's. What if it didn't go the way it did? What if another character was here? What would happen if he didn't feel that way? What would she do? I ask these questions, reading books, watching TV shows, reading a script, watching movies, or even acting in a musical. I play the part of Louise in Gypsy. We finished up Act 1 run through last night and it was great. Everyone was mostly off book which was good for just being the third week in. Anyways, this thought came to me while I was thinking about the end of Act 1. Careful, there are spoilers. ;) We (the audience) are missing an entire chunk of the story from the train station to the Toreadorables. What happened? When did Louise become okay with doing the act even though it is awful? How does she and Herbie make up for all the time that Louise pushed him away? This is my take on what might have happened...
Fear crept into
my chest as Momma kept talking. She was just plowing ahead with no thought. She
was trying to forget June, forget Tulsa, and forget the past. I was her future,
she said. I was the dream she had. But I wasn’t. She’s saying we can do it. All
I wanted to do was to run, to run far away, to find June and forget all this. I tried to run. Herbie caught me and brought me back, holding me in his arms because I knew
that I would fall to the ground if he wasn’t there, holding me. There was nothing left,
just Momma’s dreams that would never come true, not with me. I looked at Herbie
and I knew that he knew, but he loved her so he would stand beside her the
entire way. At the end of her rant, Momma left the train platform, leaving
Herbie and me in his arms. We both stood there in shock at what just happened.
Dry sobs wracked my chest.
“C’mon, Plug,”
Herbie said softly. “We gotta go.”
~
It was dark on
the train that night after...after everything. I couldn’t look at Momma because
I would start crying. I wouldn’t let her see, or Herbie. The pain in my chest
wasn’t sharp like I thought it would be. It was an ache, an ache that would not let
up. I couldn’t breathe, which sent my body into a panic. I started
hyperventilating and then the tears came pouring down my cheeks. I muffled my
cries in that stupid blanket coat I made for me, for Chowsie, for Momma,
for...I couldn’t even say her name, because the very thought of her and Tulsa
made me cry more. Did I not show how I felt about Tulsa? Was I that oblivious
and naive to think that he would love me, talentless me without any hope for
the future? What on earth was Momma gonna do? What were we all gonna do?
Momma made a
sleepy sound in the seat next to Herbie. I quickly dried my eyes, but the tears
kept coming. Why couldn’t Momma accept Herbie’s proposal? Why? I wanted to
shake that woman and tell her to be sensible, to marry Herbie, so we could be a
family. I wanted to be Herbie’s daughter. I didn’t want to be a star. Momma
thinks I can be a star. She thinks I’m beautiful. She believes that I’m
beautiful. Can she see me at all? I’m not June. Herbie can see it. He knows.
A hand touched
my shoulder. I turned my head and saw Herbie standing there, his suit shirt
rumpled from sleeping in a train seat. His brown eyes filled with the same pain
I felt. Momma wasn’t going to marry him until she got her way.
“C’mere, Plug.”
He whispered, holding out his arms. I slowly rose from my seat and went to him.
As his arms wrapped around me, the tears began again and the knot in my chest
made it difficult to breathe. “Shh, Louise, it’s gonna be all right, darlin’.”
Herbie said, rubbing my back.
“No, it’s not,”
I cried softly. “Momma’s not gonna marry you. All she cares about is the act. I
was wrong, Herbie. Wrong about you, wrong about Momma, wrong about the act, and
June, and Tuls--” I couldn’t finish his name.
“You loved him,
didn’t you?” Herbie asked, softly. I nodded in his chest, smudging his shirt. “What’s funny is that
Angie loved you, did you know that?”
I looked at him,
my brown eyes meeting his. Both of us had tears coming down our faces. “I had
no idea,” I admitted. Herbie nodded. “I never really saw him. He was just
another boy in the act.”
“Seems to me
that you and Angie are in the same boat.” Herbie smiled. I nodded.
“What are we
gonna do, Herbie?” I asked, sniffling. Herbie looked over at Momma.
“We stick
together,” Herbie said. “Your mother needs us both with what happened to June.”
“I don’t want to
do the act,” I confessed. “I just want a family and a house and a yard for the
animals. I want you for my father and Momma to be happy.”
“I know, Plug, I
know.” Herbie kissed the top of my head. “It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be
okay.”
“You don’t know
that,” I pulled away from him. “You don’t know that at all, Herbie.”
“We’ll make it
through this, Louise.” Herbie said kindly. “I promise you we will make it
through this.” He handed me a tissue to wipe my eyes. I blew my nose and sat
down on the train seat. Herbie patted my shoulder. I looked up again into his
brown eyes, those kind, wonderful, worrying brown eyes. I know now that he
loved Momma and, by consequence, loved me as well. I wanted him to be my father.
“Herbie, thank
you!” I said softly.
“You’re welcome,
Louise, but why are you thanking me?” Herbie asked.
“For staying.
For being there. For being Herbie!” I said. I looked over at Momma, who was
snoring softly. “We both need you.”
“And I need you
two as well,” Herbie replied. He bent and kissed my cheek. “Get some sleep,
dear.”
“Goodnight,
Herbie.”
“Goodnight,
Plug.”
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