The Little Shadows

Encore




JULY 2, 1917

Qu’Appelle, Saskatchewan

All acts should have an encore arranged that can be done in one, and acts that work in one are always in demand by managers.

FREDERICK LADELLE, HOW TO ENTER VAUDEVILLE





The trunks went ahead to the station in the cart, Aurora’s grey trunk among them. The girls petted and kissed Mama, still drowsing in bed after her exertions at the concert; they bid a fond goodbye to Chum and to Aunt Elsie, and gave Mabel all Bella’s tour dates—which they were going to fill, now that Nando would be leaving, as some permutation of the Belle Auroras. It was a difficult parting for Aurora, but Avery was happy to travel on a train with his odd little cousin.

Chum piled them all into the Ford and blew a double honk to say goodbye to Elsie, as he always did.

In the bedroom upstairs, Flora sat up, a flood of understanding in her brain like a slung pail of water. Going, all going—all going.

Not without! Not without!

She threw nightgown, brush and her best dress into the carpet-bag Aurora had left unneeded by the bed. Into shoes. Her hands shook but she gripped the leather handles hard and the weight of it steadied her. Down the (forcing her dragging right foot to do its work on the staircase), quiet mouse, cross hall—miss creaking board. The big door swung, she was out and down those steps, the car only just pulling out to the drive.

She ran, hobbling and wobbling, and she sang out as she ran, more to herself than to get their attention, ‘Hope with a gentle persuasion, whispers her comforting word …’

As the green car slowed to turn out onto the main road, she gathered her skirts together and pelted after them, and a shout gathered in her throat and leaped out.

‘Wait!’ she cried. ‘Wait for me!’





Acknowledgements




This is a book of vaudeville. Everything in it is stolen, juggled, stitched together backwards and upside down, shined up and sent back out to see how it will play. I have been faithful to the vaudeville circuits in Alberta, Montana and Saskatchewan, although I invented an extra one, the Parthenon. In the shallows of the medium-time, very few big historical sharks swim into the Belle Auroras’ ken; I regret any calumny done to Alexander Pantages’ ghost, but he was, after all, convicted in 1929 of the rape of a 17-year-old vaudeville dancer. (His conviction was overturned when a second trial allowed the dancer to be portrayed as a woman of low morals.) The roof of a vaudeville theatre in Edmonton did cave in, as told in the wonderful book Fallen Empires, by Jon Orrell. Victor’s elastic bouquet and sunburst bow is borrowed from Tomás Kubínek; the remarkable beauty of Kubínek’s act was a prime instigator of this book. If you ever have a chance, see him! The Melodramas are All My Own Work. East & Verrall use period vaude routines, from Brett Page’s Writing for Vaudeville (Mr. Page acknowledges their venerable age himself) and other classic comics; every joke is a genuine antique. The more absurd facts of Nando’s life with the Knockabouts are true of Buster Keaton’s life with his parents and their family act; as Avery is, Buster was born backstage. Gentry’s scolding the girls on pushing is borrowed from Cicely Berry. His other voice lessons are amalgams of advice from Berry, Lili Lehmann and Peter Brook. When Mama and Victor disagree over art, their argument owes its vigour to Howard Barker; East & Verrall doff their hats to Beckett.

I thank the Canada Council for funding during the writing of this book, and the Augustana Faculty at the University of Alberta for research funds; thanks also to my research assistants, Sarah Haywood and Jordhana Rempel. Impossible to have written the book without Robert Earley’s tour of the Bailey Theatre in Camrose (first known as the David), before their restoration project got underway; thanks also to Hugh Henry at the Swift Current Museum for his guided tour of the Lyric Theatre in Swift Current.

I’m indebted to my darling mother, Julianne Endicott, for an account of her experience of stroke and her memories of Qu’Appelle; and to my constant readers: Barbara Barnes, Thyra Endicott, Jeanne Harvie, Glenda MacFarlane, and Sara O’Leary. For the beautiful design of this book, a round of applause to Kelly Hill. For their skill, perspicacity and general loveliness, I thank Tracy Bohan, Kristin Cochrane, and my dear editor, Lynn Henry. Love as always to Rachel, Will and Peter Ormshaw for the continuous vaudeville of the everyday.

These girls and other artistes, these theatres and managers, are amalgams of hundreds of vaudeville performers known and forgotten. If you want to read more about vaudeville, and I certainly recommend it, start with Trav S.D.’s No Applause, Just Throw Money; if you’re hooked, find Frank Cullen’s massive encyclopedia, Vaudeville Old & New. For a full bibliography and list of sources and music, please visit www.marinaendicott.com