CHAPTER III Tour Thirteen
“Did you say _faded_ or _fainted_?” asked Judy. “People don’t faint awayunless they’re ill. You feel all right, don’t you?”
“Just a little trembly,” Clarissa confessed. “I’m excited, I guess—”
“There’s nothing to be excited about,” Pauline told her. “I’ve takenthis tour before. You just see behind the scenes in the differentstudios. It’s a little dull, really.”
Apparently Clarissa did not think so.
“Dull? How can you say that? If we see ourselves on television—”
A voice from a loudspeaker interrupted.
“Tour Thirteen leaves in five minutes.”
“That must be us!” exclaimed Judy.
About a dozen people were waiting at the top of a short flight ofstairs. Some of them were watching TV as they waited. Judy and herfriends joined them. The set had been tuned to one of the localchannels.
“It’s Teen Time Party!” exclaimed Pauline. “Wouldn’t you like to bethere dancing?”
“They’re high school students, aren’t they?” asked Judy.
“Most of them, I guess. There are probably a few professionals amongthem,” Pauline added. “This one, for instance.”
A lovely, golden-haired girl and her partner were caught by the camerain a close-up. The announcer turned to the audience and said, “Isn’t herhair beautiful? You, too, can be a beautiful golden blonde. Shampooglamorous new beauty into your hair with golden hair wash.”
“I use it. Why don’t you try it?” asked the girl on the televisionscreen.
In a moment she was dancing again, mixing with the other teenagers as ifshe were one of them. She wasn’t a star. Judy had never seen her ontelevision before.
“This,” she was thinking, “is all Irene would have to say. ‘_I use it._’Three little words, but they’re not true. Irene doesn’t use it. Maybeshe should. Her hair is dull and drab. Why am I thinking that?” Judyasked herself. “It’s _my_ hair that’s dull and drab.”
“Yours?” Florence asked. Judy had not realized she was speaking herthoughts aloud. Florence went on, “That’s funny, Judy. You wouldn’t wantyour hair any brighter than it is.”
“No,” Judy admitted, “I guess I wouldn’t. I always thought it was toobright before. I don’t know why I said that.”
“I do,” Clarissa spoke up. “You read my thoughts. I was just thinking myhair is dull. I could be beautiful if I didn’t have this drab, dullhair. It was lighter when I was small. It was really golden then. Butall at once it began to get darker. I changed in other ways, too. Mothersays I must be a changeling—”
“Changelings aren’t real,” Pauline stopped her. “They’re what witcheswere supposed to leave when they snatched real children.”
“There’s a witch in Sleeping Beauty,” Flo put in. “Irene says her danceis the best thing in the whole show. This tour is nothing compared towhat we’ll see tonight, but it will kill time until seven o’clock.”
“You mean six-thirty,” Judy corrected her. “We have to be at the studiohalf an hour before the show begins, and I would like to be there evenearlier than that so Irene can explain things. There’s so much I don’tknow.”
The guide, overhearing Judy’s remark, smiled and said, “So you’re goingto visit the Golden Girl show?”
“It’s treason,” Pauline whispered. “Irene’s show is on another channel.So is Teen Time Party. One of the tourists must have turned it on.”
It was off now. In its place a gay crowd of young people were singingthe praises of a popular cigarette.
“That’s one of our accounts,” Flo said proudly.
“It’s wasted on me. I don’t smoke,” laughed Judy as the tour moved on toa large room lined with pictures of television stars appearing on thebig network. People were pointing and exclaiming, each one seeming tohave his own favorite.
“Irene’s picture should be up there,” Flo remarked, “but she wouldn’t docommercials, no, she wouldn’t do commercials, no, she _wouldn’t_ docommercials—”
“Please, Flo, don’t make fun of Irene,” begged Judy. “She’s onlystanding up for what she believes is the right thing.”
“How right is it to throw away money you could be making?” Flocountered. “Judy, you must talk her into accepting this offer. Tell heryou think it’s right.”
“I’m not sure what I think. If she really used golden hair wash then shewouldn’t have to say anything that wasn’t true, would she? I think I’llbuy a bottle and ask her to try it,” Judy decided.
“Should I try it, too? Brown is a dull color,” Flo began, but wasinterrupted. The guide, a brown-haired girl herself, stepped to the headof the line and announced that the tour was about to begin. The groupfollowed her to an elevator that whisked them up to one of the smallerstudios. They had just missed the show Irene had mentioned.
“Would you like to watch a set being dismantled? There aren’t any liveshows being televised at present,” the guide said as she ushered thegroup to a row of seats behind what she told them was soundproof glass.A small television set that she called a monitor was at the left of theseats. In front of it, on the other side of the glass, the studio floorwas alive with activity. Cameras and microphones were being pushed outof the way. The walls of what had been an indoor scene were rolled backand replaced by a huge weather map. The weather girl would be the nextperson to use this studio.
“Will we see her?” asked Judy.
This was a program she and Peter often watched at their home in DryBrook Hollow. She thought of watching Irene, and the wish to see herdearest friend on television became so strong she could think of nothingelse except, “She should use golden hair wash.”
“Judy! We’re going to the control room now.”
Judy came out of her trance to realize that Pauline was speaking to her.She was the last one on the line that wended its way toward theglass-enclosed control room where the engineers sat before rows ofmonitor screens awaiting word from the director.
“He says ‘take one’ or ‘take two,’ and in a split second the picture hewants is on the screen,” the guide explained. “When a live show is onthe air, the cameras are working all the time.”
“What about the lights?” asked one of the strangers taking the tour.
“Lighting a show is an engineering feat in itself.” And the guide wenton to explain the flashing red and green lights as well as the othertechnical equipment being handled by the crew on duty in the controlroom. On the wall above their heads were clocks that told what time itwas all over the world.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” everyone agreed.
A wall chart farther down the corridor explained the inside story ofcolor television. It was complete with push buttons and flashing lights.The men taking the tour were especially interested. Pauline said sherecognized one of them.
“I recognize him, too,” Florence agreed. “He works for our agency. It’sfunny he didn’t speak to me.”
“He’s too interested in what the guide is telling him to speak toanybody,” Judy observed.
The man was interested. He was young with straight brown hair that keptfalling over his forehead as he leaned forward to examine this or thatgadget. The guide was giving him most of her attention.
“When do we see ourselves on TV?” Clarissa whispered.
“Patience,” Pauline told her. “We’re coming to that. We stand in frontof a camera, and the guide interviews us, but I think we go up to thesound-effects room first.”
“That’s radio, isn’t it? I watched the sound-effects man once on a radiobroadcast,” Judy remembered. “It was right here in Radio City, but I hada mystery to solve and didn’t take the whole tour.”
The others asked her about the mystery, and she began to tell them aboutwhat happened before she and Peter Dobbs were married. “Irene had aradio show then. It was the summer before little Judy was born. Honeywas just out of art school.
Peter and I drove to New York to bring herhome.”
“Who is Honey?” asked Clarissa.
For the second time that day Judy explained that Peter’s sister had beenin their thoughts when they pretended at the table in the restaurant.“We called her a phantom just for fun. And then you came and sat in herchair,” Judy continued. “It did seem a little weird. You’re like Honeyin many ways. You’re taller, of course, and your hair is darker—”
“It won’t be much longer,” declared Clarissa. “I’m going to buy a bottleof that golden hair wash with some of the money you girls lent me. ThenI’ll be beautiful.”
“You _are_ beautiful,” Flo insisted. “Didn’t I say so, girls? There’snothing wrong with the color of your hair.”
“It’s drab. It’s dull.”
“Oh, stop it, Clarissa!” cried Judy. “We lent you that money for yourfare home, not to waste on shampoo.”
“It won’t be wasted. You’ll see.”
“What will your folks say?” asked Pauline. “You’re the daughter of acountry minister, aren’t you? People will talk—”
“Let them! I won’t care if I’m beautiful.”
“You’re impossible!” Flo exclaimed. “How old are you, anyway? You oughtto be at home going to school.”
Clarissa wouldn’t tell her age. She wouldn’t tell anything more aboutherself or her plans. Judy was looking forward to the TV interviews. Theguide might ask Clarissa some leading questions.