Annabelle, you’ve been letting your copies of Backstage pile up!
Annabelle looked up from the Fancy Feast carton she has lately been sleeping in. Why bother? she asked me. Didn’t you tell me that theaters will be closed till the start of 2021? No one’s casting. RU Fémos never calls me any more . . .
Why don’t you call him? I asked. Maybe he’s unhappy about the situation, too. I am, for one, and so are a lot of my friends. You like him, and he’s got you several jobs.
I’m just not happy. There’s no work and no air conditioning in this apartment.
I know. Val will take care of it next week.
It’s only May and it’s too warm. Or Very Warm for May!
I sang, “You are the promised kiss of springtime . . .”
Or Very Warm for Annabelle! she added.
What about your Instagram and Pinterest accounts?
She sank back onto her carton. Thatch is too busy playing these days, she said,
I looked across the room where Thatch and Stella were chasing Ping-pong balls around the room. Since the quarantine and Annabelle’s dismay over her theatrical aspirations, he’s had more time too behave like a kitten, and he and Stella have been tearing up the place.
Well. listen, Missy. I think you need – like everyone of us currently unemployed – you need to generate your now work. Look at all those performers on Facebook . . .
She perked up and gave me an interested look. What? What are you saying?
Missy, if you weren’t so caught up in your own unhappiness, you would have noticed all these TV shows using Zoom? Bruce Kimmel’s done two – or was it one? – of his Kritzerland shows and they’re on Facebook and Youtube.
She sat up. Really, Daddy?
Yes. Maybe you and Thatch need to cash in on this.
She lay down sadly. He prefers Stella these days.
I don’t think so. You’re his big sister, his one true love, but Stella plays with him and you’re just moping. Why don’t you talk to him? I don’t want to go off to hospital with you two on the outs.
When do you leave again?
Two days from now.
You are coming back?
I’m hoping.
Are you scared?
A little. I’ve never been away from you three before. So, please, don’t be on the outs with Thatch. For my sake?
I’ll think about it. Do you really think I should call RU Fémos?
Yes. Just call and tell him you were thinking about him and wondering how he was. Maybe heeds a project, too?
That piqued her interest. Yes, yes. You think I should?
Sure. Tell him I said hello. You’re his client, not me.
Thatch? Thatch? Annabelle called.
What, Annabelle? He left Stella, who was trying to bite a Ping-pong ball, and casually walked over to Annabelle.
We need to investigate these Zoom programs. I need to get back to work.
Oh, thank God! Stella plays awful rough. When do we start?
She sat up. We need to research this Zoom thing, whatever it is. I need to check the computer.
Do you want me to help? I asked.
Nope. We’ll go to our office. We have air conditioning! She stretched, left the carton, and headed toward the linen closet. Thatch followed. He turned back, smiled at me, and trotted after her.
Well, good! If you need me, just yell!
As they vanished into the linen closet, a Ping-pong ball rolled across the floor and stopped at my foot. As I bent down to pick it up, Stella pounced. She jumped on the hand reaching for the ball and bit my wrist.
©2020, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 