I went to class the morning of the audition and asked someone to switch shifts with me at work so I could make the four o’clock appointment. I had read the entire script and brought it along with me in case Lee planned to point to a random scene and make me deliver it. Not that I could memorize it that quickly or that Lee would be that sadistic. I was just ready for anything. I got to Lee’s office way too early. I waited in front of the building and used the extra time I had to pray. I didn’t pray that I would get the role. I prayed that whatever my life was supposed to be, whatever my path was, I would finally be on it. I was only twenty-four years old, but I was tired of fear. I was tired of running away from something I could see into something I couldn’t. I didn’t know why this book, these characters, this production had shown up in my mother’s life five years before or why they were showing up in mine now, but I knew this was my purpose. It wasn’t that my purpose was to be a movie star; it was just for my life to begin. (I also decided that if I didn’t get the role of Precious I would never see the movie and I’d curse the girl who actually got the role. Curses to you, Sabourey Gidibe!)
At 3:50, I went upstairs to Lee’s office. He wasn’t there yet. I sat and waited for him. A few minutes after four, Lee walked in. He was over six feet tall with hair that scraped the ceiling. He was holding plastic bags in both hands.
“Guys, I have cake! I brought back cake from Brooklyn!” he announced. “Pineapple upside-down cake! Anybody want some cake?”
It was like a fairy tale! He was exactly what I thought he’d be and he had cake! I was soon sitting across from him at his desk. Behind him on the wall were headshots of the actors already cast in the film. There she was. Mo’Nique’s picture was on the wall. Mo’Nique was playing the mother. The same role Mom had turned down, saying Mo’Nique should play it. Typical. Yet Mom won’t say on record that she’s psychic.
Lee offered me some cake, but in my new tradition of going against my instincts, I declined. He asked if I’d ever acted before. I told him about Peter Pan and Glinda the Good Witch. He remarked in a kind voice that he was very impressed with my audition. I held on tightly to the script in my hand. I was sure he was just seconds away from asking me to deliver a scene. He asked me if I was in school. I said I was. He asked what I would do if I got the role.
I said, “Something would have to give. The opportunity to be in a movie doesn’t come along every day.”
We kept talking. I was losing my patience. I just wanted to get this last audition over with. All of the idle chitchat was making me nervous. Lee finally said, “You’re really smart.” Oh, great! Another person thinks I’m smart! Can I stop listening to guys beg me to make them wear panties over the phone now?
“Thank you.”
“I want you to be in my movie.”
“As what?” I asked, never one to believe a stranger wanted to do anything but hurt me. (I gotta stop that shit.)
“As Precious,” he said. It was quiet. I think. I also could’ve been screaming. I’m not sure. I had auditioned on Monday and now it was only Wednesday and the prophecy of fame was finally being fulfilled. I was going to be a movie star. It couldn’t have been that easy but it was. Now I was nervous. I cried like a little girl, and Lee grabbed my hand and walked me around the production office and introduced me to everyone by saying, “This is Gabby! She’s our Precious!”
That night, Lee drove me home. On the way, he asked if I had a boyfriend.
“No, but now that I’m going to be a movie star, I’m gonna get pregnant by a basketball player and lock down that child support,” I answered. He laughed hysterically.
He had asked me earlier in the day in his office what I did for a living. Since by then I had already gotten the part, and I had also seen Shadowboxer enough times to know that he would think my being a phone sex operator was a riot, I told him. Now in the car he wanted to know about my most disgusting callers. I shared stories of men who called to be abused by dominant women who would force them to be with black men with huge dicks. He laughed and laughed, and said, “We won’t tell Oprah that story.”
“You think I’ll get to do Oprah?” I asked, excitedly.
“Of course you will! Oprah will live for you!”
He asked if I’d ever read the book Push. I told him that I had and that my mother had given it to me when she was asked years ago to audition for the role of Mary. He was surprised and asked who my mother was. I explained that she wasn’t an actor and that he wouldn’t know her unless he takes the subway a lot.
“Wait a minute! Is your mother a singer? Is she the one who sings all the Whitney Houston songs?” he asked.
“Yeah. That’s my mom.”
“That’s your MOM? Honey, she’s EVERYTHING! I wanted her for this movie! I wanted her for Mary! That was years ago! You are her daughter?” He couldn’t believe it. Neither could I, really.
We started shooting three weeks later. Filming lasted about three and a half months. It wasn’t until the last day that I learned how many girls had auditioned for the role of Precious. Around four hundred, I’m told. There was even an acting summer camp where they put about twenty plus-size black girls in a house together, and every week there were auditions, and every week a girl was cut and sent home. It was like American Idol or something. Apparently, there’s footage of this Precious Camp, but I’ve never seen it. At the end of summer, the production was down to two girls, but they still weren’t sure they’d found Precious yet. (So many Sabourey Gidibes and still no Gabourey Sidibe!) That’s when they held the last open casting calls and found me. I had no idea how many things had to go wrong for me to win that role, but I decided by then to stop paying attention to what might have gone wrong and start being grateful for all the things that had gone right instead. A year and a half later, Oprah saw the film before it was released and, along with Tyler Perry, came aboard as a producer. Oprah asked me to be on her show, but first she wanted a camera crew to follow me around for a day. I insisted that the Oprah crew follow me down to the subway to see Mom perform. I was determined to get footage of her subway performance on Oprah. My one and only appearance on Oprah happened to be the show when she announced her retirement. I had made it just in time for all of the psychics to be right. I cried like a bitch throughout the entire show. Emotions yo!
How many psychics does it take to convince a sad little girl that she can be much more than the world is telling her she is? None. She’s got to be able to convince herself to show up for her own life. I still don’t see any real value in fame. Sure, I skip most lines. I get plenty of free clothes and jewelry, and at restaurants, as we’ve seen, the chef sends out free desserts. But fame isn’t what gets me out of bed in the morning. It’s purpose. I’ve found my purpose and this is it. I love what I do. I’m grateful to be a two-time college dropout who finally believes in psychics. I’m not recommending it, but I’m not not recommending it.
15
Head of Household
I’m a girl in a world in which my only job is to marry rich.
—Angelica Schuyler (Hamilton)