Claudia and the Genius on Elm Street (8 page)

"Yes," Mr. Wilder replied. "This is one of the talents." He gently pushed Rosie in front of him.

"Hi, sweetie," the woman said. "Just go through the door and look for Studio Four. It'll be on your right."

"Thanks," we all said together.

Inside the door was a long, wide corridor, with dozens of cables snaking along the floor. Men and women passed by, rolling enormous

video cameras. I recognized one or two local TV newscasters and boy, did they look older than they do on TV! The walls were lined with studio doors. One of them swung open and I could see the set of a game show I used to watch when I was a kid. That made me shiver.

I wished Stacey or Kristy were with me. We'd have looked in each other's eyes and known we were squealing inside.

Rosie didn't seem fazed at all. She was mouthing the words to her song and following her parents.

I couldn't resist saying, "You are so calm!" to Rosie.

She shrugged. "This is nothing compared to some of the network studios in New York."

"Here it is, girls!" Mr. Wilder called out. He opened the door marked STUDIO 4 and let us go in.

What a place. Half of the room was a madhouse. People wearing headsets were running around like crazy, muttering in low voices. At first I thought they were talking to themselves, until I realized little mikes were attached to the headsets. There were cameras standing on tripods, a camera hanging from the ceiling on a crane, cameras shoved against the wall. Along a table on the other side of the room

were two coffee urns and four plates of cold cuts and breads. Uncle Dandy waved to us from a corner, where a man and a woman were combing his hair and putting makeup on his face.

The other half of the room was completely empty. It was the set for the show. In the center was a polished wooden floor. Off to the side were curtains, pulled open, and a grand piano. Hanging above the set was a huge sign that said UNCLE DANDY'S STAR MACHINE in neon lights. A few rows of folding chairs faced the set (they were for the studio audience).

"Hi, what's your talent?" someone asked.

I looked around to see a girl smiling brightly at Rosie. Her parents stood behind her, smiling brightly at her.

"Singing and piano," Rosie answered.

"I'm dancing — " the girl said.

"Introduce yourself, dear," the girl's mother interrupted.

"I'm Crystal."

"I'm Rosie." Rosie smiled tightly, then stared straight ahead.

Crystal got the message. She nodded a little, frowned a little, then walked away with her parents.

I dared to say to Rosie, "She seemed pretty nice."

Rosie shook her head. "It's important not to make small talk on the set. That kind of thing can destroy your concentration, especially before a performance."

"That's right, dear," Mrs. Wilder said, putting her hand on Rosie's shoulder.

I thought that was a little weird, but I didn't say anything.

Soon Uncle Dandy came racing across the set with a clipboard in his hand. His'hair (or toupee) had so much spray in it, it looked like a helmet. "Where are all the kids?" he shouted.

"Some of them are in the green room, Mr. Beasley," a bearded guy replied from behind us.

"What are they doing there?" Uncle Dandy demanded. "We're at half hour. Get them in here!"

Then he turned to Rosie and Crystal and gave them a huge smile. "Howdy. 'Dya have a nice trip here?"

"Uh-huh," Rosie and Crystal said.

Uncle Dandy looked up to see the bearded man talking to someone. "Now, Bickford!" he ordered.

He kept doing that — practically barking at the adults, but using this sugar-sweet voice for kids.

When the other talents came in, he led them

all onto the set. The Wilders, the other families and friends, and I squeezed into the studio audience chairs.

We listened to Uncle Dandy's pep talk. "Wow, here we are!" he exclaimed with a goony smile, clapping his hands. "Is everybody excited?"

"Yes!" the kids screamed.

Then he put on a serious expression. "Boys and girls, this is a super-duper big day. It's our premiere show! Believe me, I know how you must feel. All these lights and cameras, everyone in Central and parts of Southern Connecticut watching . . . but I want you to know Uncle Dandy is behind you a hundred and a half percent. I want you all to have the bestest, funnest, Uncle Dandiest time! Remember, we're one big, happy family!"

The speech was so corny, I don't know how the kids kept from cracking up.

As Uncle Dandy spoke, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He was smiling broadly, but his eyes were darting all around. He was making me nervous, and I wasn't even on the show! After the speech he announced the order in which the performers would appear. Rosie was going to be last, with her two songs.

"They always save the best for last," Mr. Wilder whispered to his wife and me.

Soon the performers were taken into a waiting room, out of sight. Ms. Yu arrived late, waved to us, and stood against the wall. The audience lights dimmed and these huge spotlights lit up the stage so brightly I had to squint. Then this incredibly loud, tinny-sounding music started. Uncle Dandy ran onto the stage so fast he almost fell over. "Who-o-oa! Har har — that was a close one! Well, hello out there, boys and girls! It's time for Uncle Dandy's Star Machine]"

He pointed to the neon lights, which flashed on and off. But two letters were dead, so when it lit up it looked like UNCLE ANDY'S TAR MACHINE.

Off to the side, a woman held up a sign that said WILD APPLAUSE. We all applauded loudly.

"Yes, well, we have quite a show for you today . . ."As Uncle Dandy bounced to the beat of the music, his shirt came untucked. And then I discovered he was wearing a toupee, because it began to slip forward on his forehead. I almost burst out laughing.

Did I ever breathe a sigh of relief when the first act began. A little girl danced to some rock music.

She was pretty good, and so were most of the other acts — a ventriloquist, a ballerina, a

few singers, a tap dancer (which caused Mrs. Wilder to whisper, "She's no Rosie!" to Mr. Wilder), and a kid who walked on stilts and juggled.

When Rosie went onstage, I felt a chill race through me. My stomach churned. 1 looked at the Wilders. They were holding hands and smiling calmly.

As Rosie played a complicated classical song, two camera people rolled toward her. They swooped close to her face, then her hands. The camera on the crane swung above her. I don't know how she could keep concentrating.

But she didn't make one mistake. Then, after the song was over and we cheered our lungs out, she sat down again. This time she played a slow ballad from a Broadway show, and sang along. She never looked at her fingers. She'd sing facing one camera, then smoothly look at another. Somehow she always knew which one she was on.

I felt so proud of her!

After her number, the Wilders and I practically leaped to our feet. I shouted "Brava!" and whistled.

Uncle Dandy made some dumb closing remarks, and soon the overhead lights were turned on again. As we stood up, the per-

formers began filing back into the studio.

There were hugs and kisses all over the place. I practically smothered Rosie. "You were so fantastic!" I said.

"Thanks," she replied with a smile.

"Wonderful, darling," Mr. Wilder said. "As always."

"Super!" Mrs. Wilder added.

"The best!" Ms. Yu said proudly.

We chatted for awhile. Ms. Yu left to talk to Uncle Dandy, who was wiping his face with a towel.

Soon a handsome, tanned man with moussed hair approached Rosie and said, "Let me add my congratulations to everyone else's. I'm Raymond Mendez of Mendez Teen 'n' Tiny Talent. Do you have an agent representing you theatrically?" He handed a card to Mrs. Wilder.

"Yes, I have — " Rosie began.

But her father cut her off. "I see you have an office in New York," he said.

"And we're about to open one in L. A.," Mr. Mendez added. "We specialize in juvenile talent."

"And you have movie contacts?" Mrs. Wilder asked.

"With all the studios," answered Mr. Mendez.

The conversation obviously bothered Rosie. "Mom," she said, "I have a contract with Ms. Yu!"

"Yes, of course, dear," Mrs. Wilder said. "But it's always good to keep your options open. Thank you, Mr. Mendez. We'll keep your card."

When he was out of sight, Mr. Wilder said softly, "This could be an excellent career move, Rosie. Don't worry about Ms. Yu. Contracts are made to be broken."

"But Dad — " Mr. and Mrs. Wilder were pulled aside by the parents of Crystal. They didn't hear Rosie say, "I like Ms. Yu!"

Before long, we said good-bye to Uncle Dandy and headed out to the parking lot. As we drove off, Mr. and Mrs. Wilder launched a conversation about the pros and cons of the Mendez Teen 'n' Tiny Talent agency.

Rosie and I tuned them out in the backseat. "Rosie, you were so good I practically cried."

"Yeah?" Rosie said. "It was no big deal. You know, you rehearse it and you do it."

"How did you know which cameras to look at?" I asked.

"The one that's on is the one with the red light," she said. "It's easy."

She looked out the window at the passing shops. I was amazed. She didn't seem to want

to talk about the show at all. It was as if she'd just finished some semi-interesting chore and wanted to move on to the next thing.

Suddenly Rosie cried out, "Oooh! Let's stop at that ice cream shop! Can we have a treat? I'm so-o-o-o hungry!"

Mr. Wilder smiled. "Not tonight, sweetheart. It's getting late, and you have a rehearsal with Mr. Bryan and Ms. Van Cott in the morning for your dinner-theater audition."

That's when the fireworks began.

Rosie stomped her feet arid screamed, "But I want ice cream! I don't want to have a'stupid rehearsal!"

"Rosi-i-i-ie," Mrs. Wilder said. "Behave yourself. You need your sleep if you want your voice to stay in shape."

"I don't care about my voice! I don'i care about dancing! I don't care about that dumb audition!"

"I know how you feel, darling/' Mr. Wilder said. "But you're a performer, and performers have to have discipline."

"That's not what I am!" Rosie was shrieking now. "I'm a kid! I just want to get ice cream like a normal kid!"

The Wttders just fell silent and kept on driving. Rosie folded her arms and curled into a ball.

No one said a word during the rest of the trip. I felt so sad for Rosie. I tried to comfort her, but she shrank away from me. So I just stared out the window. I don't remember one thing I saw.

Chapter 12.

Curious? I practically had to drag Mary Anne to the Crossword Competition that Thursday. No one else could go with me. Still, Mary Anne almost decided to go home and do her homework.

I'm glad she came to SES. Rosie needed as much help as she could get. And 1 don't mean with the puzzles.

Let me start at the beginning. The Wilders couldn't go to the contest because Mrs. Wilder's mom needed to be taken to the hospital. So I was in charge. Now, Stacey had told me how the other kids treated Rosie at school, so I was determined to give her as much support as I could.

Mary Anne and I went straight to Stoney-brook Elementary after school. The contest was to be held in the auditorium. A bunch of our clients were there — Charlotte Johanssen, some of the Pike kids, Haley Braddock, Marilyn and Carolyn Arnold. We had to wave and shout "Hello" a lot.

On the stage were three enormous blackboards on wheels. Some teachers were drawing crossword puzzles onto them, carefully copying the puzzles from books. The blackboards were facing the back of the stage, so the audience (and the contestants)

couldn't see the puzzles in advance.

The auditorium was fairly crowded so we sat toward the back. When Rosie came in, she ran over to us. "Hi," she said. "I'm glad you're here."

"We're your cheering section," I said. "This is my friend Mary Anne Spier."

"Hi," Mary Anne said. "I've heard all about you."

Rosie smiled. "Thanks. Well, I'm going to hang out in the back till we start. I need to stay focused."

As soon as she left, Mary Anne whispered to me, "Stay focused?"

I shrugged. "That's Rosie. Seven going on twenty-five."

Behind us, we heard a burst of giggling. A girl was saying, "Ew! The brain!"

We turned to see a group of girls walking past Rosie.

"She's not talking to us," another girl said. "She only talks to Uncle Dandy."

The girls giggled again, then found seats together.

Poor Rosie. I tried to catch her eye, so I could give her a thumbs-up or something. But she was pacing gloomily behind the last row, staring at the floor.

Soon Ms. Reynolds, the SES principal, walked onto the stage and announced, "Okay,

let's take our seats. The competition's about to begin. Competing this evening is the winner from each grade, one of whom will become the school champ. In the fifth grade, Nicole Ficaro — "

"Ya-a-a-a-ay!" came a big cheer from one section of the auditorium.

"In the fourth grade," Ms. Reynolds continued, "Joseph Nicholas — "

Another huge cheer from another part of the auditorium.

"And in the third grade, Rosie Wilder!"

Well, Mary Anne and I cheered loudly. I think a couple of other kids did, too, but I wasn't sure. If they did, they were drowned out by some loud "Boo's" and giggles.

My heart sank. If I'd been Rosie and heard that, I would have been mortified.

"All right," Ms. Reynolds said sternly. "If you have a negative opinion, you are advised to keep it to yourself." She glared at the group of unruly kids, and boy, did they squirm. Then she said, "All right. I'll explain the rules. There are three puzzles, one for each grade. The higher the grade, the harder the puzzle. The contestants will have twenty minutes to complete their puzzles. At the end, the one who has filled .in the most correct answers wins. There is to be no — I repeat, no — helping from the audi-

ence members. Anyone who does will be expelled from the room." She glanced around. "Okay, will the contestants please come to the stage?"