CHAPTER VIII The Witch’s Curse
“I’ll need more than luck if anything is wrong in the film department,”Irene said later when they were back on the studio floor.
She was worried about something. Judy could see that. She took the seatPauline was saving for her. Flo was already seated next to Pauline withClarissa occupying the chair next to the aisle. An usher was seatingpeople in every available place.
“No empty seats! No empty seats!” he kept on repeating as the crowdsurged in.
Two pedestal cameras were stationed directly in front of the curtainwhere Irene stood waiting. At one side, mounted on a large three-wheeledplatform, rode the man who operated the mike boom. The man on the dollywas sitting in his funny little seat with the operator ready to raise orlower him.
The hands of the big studio clock over the exit door moved slowly towardthe hour of seven. The camera men and the boom man, all wearingheadphones, stood ready before their equipment. The floor manager alsowaited for the directions he would receive through his headpiece.
“All set?” asked the announcer.
“All set,” Irene replied, smiling.
Did Judy imagine it, or was her smile a little forced? “Nothing must gowrong,” Judy caught herself almost praying. “Please, don’t let anythinggo wrong.”
“One minute ... stand by!” sounded over the loudspeaker.
Were the other girls as tense as she was? Judy found it hard to read theexpressions on their faces. The lights over the Golden Girl set madeeverything else look dim.
The television set suspended over the middle aisle was showing the endcommercial from the previous show. As soon as it was over red lightsflashed above the exit doors, and Judy knew Golden Girl was on the air.The announcer stepped to one side, out of camera range, and clapped hishands as a signal for the audience to clap.
“Isn’t she lovely?” whispered someone in the audience as the brightspotlight shone down on Irene. Quick tears came to Judy’s eyes as Irenebegan to sing:
“_My own golden girl, there is one, only one, Who has eyes like the stars and hair like the sun._”
It was her theme song. Judy’s thoughts took her back to the first timeshe had heard it on a roof garden while she danced with Dale Meredith.
“Irene is a golden girl tonight,” he had said, and from then on herhappiness had become his chief concern. Judy thought of him now, at homein their new Long Island house, probably holding a sleepy baby on hisknee as he listened.
“That’s Mommy,” he would be saying to little Judy. Or perhaps there wasno need to say it. By now Judy’s little namesake must be well acquaintedwith the mysteries of TV.
“Better acquainted than I am,” Judy thought ruefully.
She couldn’t overcome the fear that something would go wrong with theshow. Little Judy wouldn’t see the microphone dangling over her mother’shead. She wouldn’t see the cameras being moved in like menacingmonsters. She wouldn’t know, as Judy did, that somewhere back in thefilm room there had been something “as dangerous as an atom bomb.”
“If Peter were here I could ask him about it,” Judy thought.
“The advertising is over, and the show is about to begin,” Paulinewhispered.
Judy glimpsed the little girl cleaning her teeth on the TV set. Sincethe advertising was all on film, it did not seem to interrupt the playthat was now beginning.
“Look!” she heard Clarissa whisper. “It’s the palace scene with the kingand queen. I wonder if that’s a real baby in the crib.”
On the television screen the king and queen seemed to be crooning over areal baby, but Judy suspected the crib was empty. The throne room wasonly a painted scene on a wooden frame with a few props in theforeground to make it appear real. The spotlight rested on the royalfamily for a moment and then moved over to Irene. Dressed as one of thefairies, she sang to summon the others:
“_Fairies! Fairies! Now appear Bringing gifts for baby dear. One will give a pretty face, Two a body full of grace, Three the love light in her eyes. Four will make her kind and wise._”
In danced the fairies bringing their gifts and waving their wands overthe crib. On the screen flecks of stardust could be seen swirling about.Remembering the tour, Judy knew how this effect was achieved.
More gifts were bestowed on the little princess as the next sevenfairies danced in. Irene’s song was as beautiful and tender as alullaby. A film strip of a real baby made it seem as if the audience hadbeen given a glimpse of the little princess in her crib.
It was almost too real when the witch whirled in. A gasp went up fromthe audience as she interrupted the fairy song with a hoarse shriek:
“_I was not invited. Why? For punishment I’ll make her_ die!”
“No, oh, no!” Judy almost forgot it was a play and found herself cryingout with the fairies. All had given their gifts except Irene, who wasplaying the part of the twelfth fairy.
The queen, rising from her throne, began to explain that there were onlytwelve golden plates for feasting.
“That is why you weren’t invited, dear, good fairy,” she said to thewitch. “Please take away your curse.”
“_For shame!” cried the witch. “I’ll make it worse! She shall live to age fifteen, But she shall_ never _be a queen. While spinning she shall prick her hand. There’ll be no cure in all the land._”
“Have pity! Have pity!” cried the poor queen, wringing her hands andsobbing so realistically that Judy almost cried with her.
“I will have every spinning wheel destroyed,” the king declared. “Thiscruel pronouncement must not come to pass.”
“Can’t you help us, dear fairies?” sobbed the queen.
They drooped like wilted flowers. “I’m afraid not,” one after another ofthem replied. “She is not one of us. She is a witch. Her powers aregreater than ours, but we will try.”
At that they began dancing around the witch, trying to touch her withtheir wands. The music played wildly as the witch whirled and danced,always eluding them and finally dancing off the set.
“She’s gone!” exclaimed the king. “She’s left her curse on all of us.”
“You good fairies, is there nothing you can do?” The queen turned to thedancers with a pleading gesture. Eleven of them shook their heads.Irene, the twelfth fairy, danced into the spotlight and began to sing:
“_A twelfth gift I have yet to give. The princess shall not die, but live. A fairy mist will change the spell From death to sleep. She shall sleep well A hundred years. Yes, all shall sleep. Change, curse, from death to slumber deep!_”
With a wave of her wand, Irene stepped out of camera range and stoodsmiling and bowing to the studio audience as the curtain descended. Judyforgot to look at the advertising. She was seeing only Irene.
“She’s the star of this show. Francine Dow can’t be any more wonderfulthan she was,” Judy whispered.
“I hope she’s here.”
Was Pauline worried, too? Clarissa was heard to whisper, “Oh dear, Ileft my two bottles of shampoo back there in the witch’s dressing room.”
“You can get them after the show,” Flo whispered back. She turned toPauline and said something about the commercial. Several people lefttheir seats during the intermission, but Judy stayed where she was. Shedidn’t want to miss anything.
As soon as the commercial was over, the cameras were again on Irene. Shestood in front of the curtain.
“The king has issued a decree commanding that every spindle in thekingdom be burnt, but it is no use,” she said sadly. “Fifteen years havepassed. The witch’s curse is almost forgotten, but look what’s hiddenaway in a dusty old room at the top of the castle!”
The curtain opened on the set she had described. There, before an oldspinning wheel, sat the witch spinning flax. For a time nothing washeard except the whir of the spinning wheel. Then a door opened, and alovely young girl tiptoed in. Judy breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s Francine Dow! Her hair is golden just as I knew it was,” Paulinewhispered.
“It could be a wig,” Flo whispered back.
The princess stood behind the old witch, not saying a word until sheturned her head. Then, appearing frightened, she said, “Good day, mygood lady, what are you doing here?”
“I am spinning,” said the witch, nodding her head.
“What thing is that which twists round so merrily?”
“It is a spindle. Want to try it, my pretty?”
It was the same evil voice Judy had heard back in the dressing room.
“I—I’m afraid.”
The princess did sound afraid as she took the spindle. Her long goldenhair fell almost to her waist. Were those real tears in her eyes whenshe pricked her finger? She fell, almost immediately, in an undramaticpose with her face turned away from the audience. The witch, chucklingsoftly to herself, began to chant:
“_My curse is done. The sleep of death Shall take away the princess’ breath!_”
Judy drew a breath of her own that was almost a gasp. She knew the oldfairy story by heart, and yet there was a moment when the play seemed soreal that she wasn’t at all sure the curse wouldn’t come true.