Dry Your Smile (12 page)

I'm too tired to write more now so I'll tell you more about myself another time, maybe tomorrow. Good night.

Your friend, with love,

Julian

Dear Diary,

This time I really will tell you about myself. I am eight years old, but you already know that because you were born on my eighth birthday (which means we have the same birthday, Oct. 7!) and I have brown eyes and blonde hair. When I was young my hair was very blonde. You can see it in the pictures of me when I did the baby food ads and the toddler clothes ads. But last year it began to get dark and become what Mr. Pierce called “dirty blonde” even though we wash my hair every night and Momma sets it in curls with bobbypins and hairset while I sit on the toilet seat and study my lines. Anyway, Mr. Pierce and even Miss Unger (she's our show's Executive Producer) were getting worried, and so they had a talk with Momma about my hair and now since January we go every three weeks to Charles of the Ritz to keep my hair blonde. I like Charles of the Ritz, because it means I miss half an afternoon of school even if I do have to do makeup homework. Charles of the Ritz is named after a great hairdresser who is either dead or anyway never there. It is in the city and very expensive Momma says so I always sit still and don't waste time. I like the shiny white marble floor and the pink silk coat they put on you and the big soft chair you climb into that turns in every direction and walls and walls and even the ceiling of mirrors. You can see millions of yourselves turning in all directions. The rest I hate. Miss Frances is very nice to me and always talks about how I am a little princess but then she puts this stuff on my head and it stinks awfully and the smell makes me sick in my stomach. Momma and Miss Frances say to hold my nose and breathe through my mouth but the smell even stings in my throat like it does on my head and it goes on and on because they leave it on your head and go away while you do your homework or study your lines or something. You have to be very
very
careful not to let it drip down your forehead into your eyes if you bend your head down because you could go blind. So I always hold my head straight ahead of me and lift my homework or my lines to up there which makes my arms tired. After a while, Miss Frances comes back and then it gets better because we have a shampoo which gets the stuff out and then conditioner she says and a set and then I sit under the dryer like all the women in their silk coats. And then we do comb out and it all is silky golden curls and Miss Frances and Momma and Miss Unger and everybody is happy. Your head stays stinging for two or three days and hot water especially on it hurts when your hair is getting washed even at home but then the sting goes away until the next time you have to go to Charles of the Ritz. I wish I hadn't become a dirty blonde.

Dear Diary, I'm very sorry and I apologize because I always mean to tell you about myself but always get too tired. Today I had rehearsal in the morning and then school and then the lesson with my drama coach in foreign accents. We did French and British today. Tomorrow I have piano after school so I had to do extra practice tonight after homework because I was falling behind. So now I'm too sleepy to write more. I apologize dear diary.

Oh and I almost forgot. I'm not going to sign what I write in you like I have been, I mean “your friend with love, Julian” anymore. Because way back that is what we decided I should write on the fan pictures I autograph (we are very honest about this and I sign them all myself for real even if other television stars use a rubber stamp because Momma says we have a duty to our fans). But you are not a fan and I don't want to sign this like that. Even if you feel like a real friend and I feel like I really do love you, those words got used up somewhere else. But I don't know what else to sign this with. I would never want to insult you. I apologize.

Julian

Dear Diary,

Today is October 12th and I don't see why I have to always tell you what day it is because I've been writing something in you every single day since Momma gave you to me on your and my birthday so if anybody reads this because you never know they can always count up. Momma did read you last night after I was asleep but I guess you know that. This morning on the train she explained to me that it was a waste of time and of you with your blue leather cover and creamy paper to fill you up with drivel she said about things like Jewell and Charles of the Ritz. She said a person should be positive and write happy things in a diary or else if anybody looked at it you never know they would get the wrong impression and think life was nothing but miserable. My life is not at all miserable and I know that I am very very lucky to be beautiful and have a fast memory and be a television star and have hundreds of loyal fans and go to a private school and have organdy dresses and a doll collection and wonderful privileges like music and dancing lessons and the best mother in the whole world. I apologize, dear diary, if I gave you the wrong impression. Momma explained that even if nobody ever read what I wrote in you still when I was old and read you myself I might get the wrong impression and besides who wants to remember bad things an old person wants to remember the good times. I have never been old yet so I believe what Momma says. I certainly would not want to give me the wrong impression.

I'm very tired tonight so I guess I will stop now and I'm sorry I didn't write in you much today.

Julian

Dear Diary,

This is October 13th and it was Show Day. A Show Day is always special. I don't go to school at all on Show Day (I do full school makeup work at home on Saturdays) not even for a half-day as usual because we start rehearsal at ten in the morning right in the studio itself and do a runthrough and then a lunch break and then a full dress rehearsal and then dinner break and then get our makeup put on and there's The Show itself. We don't get out of the studio until ten o'clock at night! And so even though I'm tired I'm going to write in you right now on the train going home (I apologize that's why my writing is so bumpy) because I know that when we get home Momma always puts me down right away even if I'm excited because she says she knows I'm tired and also there's the Saturday makeup schoolwork tomorrow and a new script to start learning. And I have my singing lessons on Saturdays, too.

Anyway, today was
Friday the 13th!!
And Miss Clement and everybody else in the cast went around very nervous because it was Show Day and we do our show live and not on tape beforehand which means anything could go wrong you never know. But doing our show live is what gives it its magic Miss Unger says. I wasn't nervous even though I had a big part in this one which was about Ingrid, who is the little girl I play, remember? getting in trouble for being a tomboy until she wins a baseball game for the neighbor kids by hitting a home run. I wasn't a bit nervous because in secret (except for Momma, who knows
all
my secrets) I know that 13 is my lucky number. So even though I could have been nervous because I'm not a tomboy and I don't even know how to throw a ball right or catch one I still wasn't nervous. In rehearsal Mr. Pierce had said he “despaired” of me. “Julie,” he said, “I despair of you.” I hate hate hate it when anybody calls me Julie. I don't mind Jule so much but I hate hate hate Julie. But you can't say that to Mr. Pierce, no matter how politely. I asked Momma to tell him but she said she didn't dare to either and besides everybody else called me something different from Julie anyway like Elfin and Sweetie and Princess and whenever they talk about me between themselves they call me The Baby which Momma says I should understand because after all I am the youngest member of the cast and why be fussy? I hate hate hate The Baby, too. But anyway dear diary I want to be positive and Mr. Pierce is really very nice to me and says I am brilliant and a trooper and professional and precocious (spelling? Help, Momma!) and his little Sarah Burnheart (who was the greatest actress who ever lived and died a long time ago). But he despaired of me this time and swore bad words and yelled why can't this kid even catch a ball. I couldn't help it. I kept shutting my eyes tight and sort of ducking down when it came flying at me. You never know, it could bust up your face. Momma talked to me and I tried I really tried to keep my eyes open but then my hands went up in front of my face instead. I don't think it's so silly to duck when somebody throws something at you and it wasn't so silly that time when the crazy man threw a rock on the last personal appearance tour. It was good I ducked that time or Momma said I could have got a scar or lost an eye or something horrible. They took the crazy man away to an insane place and he was crying and everything and I felt sorry for him but I sure wasn't sorry I ducked. Jewell next door can throw a ball and catch it perfect every time. I've watched her do it. After Mr. Pierce despaired of me in rehearsal I thought it would be a wonderful idea if Jewell could teach me how she did it after all it was for my part and she could rehearse me all week on my ball stuff after school just like Momma rehearses me my lines and cues after homework. But Momma said that was not practical and so Momma and Mr. Pierce and Miss Luchino (she writes the scripts for the show) all had a conference because nobody wanted to bother Miss Unger and they solved the whole thing by hiring a double to catch and throw (that's called a stunt) and they would shoot that scene in a long-shot. It felt funny to see another little girl wearing my costume with her hair done up just like mine. It felt funny to see her being
me
, except for in the close-ups. They called her the stunt kid and I never even got to know her name. She knew just how to do it, too. I don't know how she learned to throw and catch like that but Momma said which would you rather know how to do, throw a ball or be a star, catch a ball or get A's in school, and I told Momma I'd rather be who I am and we laughed together at it. I love Momma because she didn't want me to feel bad and so she told me to dry my smile and remember that anybody could play ball but only me could be loved by thousands of people I've never even met.

The train is getting close to Yonkers so I will stop writing this now. But Friday the 13th was my lucky day and I wasn't nervous at all. Thousands of people will love me even more because they won't have any idea it was my double in the long-shot. They'll think I am the best child star in the world and can also throw and catch good as Babe Ruth. Like Momma says, it was a triumph.

Julian

Dear Diary,

Today I have been eight for a whole week! And you are one week old! This was a wonderful week. It started with my birthday but you know about that. Then I got First in class doing multiplication (spelling? Momma?) tables by memory. Doris stuck her tongue out at me and Teacher saw her and she got caught and had to write I WILL NOT BE RUDE in her notebook 20 times and was I glad. She is just as good as me in arithmetic but does not have a fast memory ha ha. Also Teacher said my vocabulary (spell?) is remarkable (spell?). But that's not all. Mr. Jonas (he's my piano teacher) gave me a postcard with Beethoven on it because he said I was “coming along so well” and had real talent. Momma says she isn't surprised and that I am a walking talent factory! Today Mrs. Douglas who is my singing teacher said even if I couldn't hardly carry a tune (and Momma thinks she's crazy wrong about that it's just I'm too little yet) still I can talk-sing Mrs. Douglas said with “such charm” it didn't matter and Shirley Temple couldn't carry a tune either. (It matters to Momma, who wants only the best for me in everything, but it doesn't matter to me because Shirley Temple was sort of musical comedy and I am a serious actress and so don't need to sing anyway.)

Then there was my triumph about the double girl last night and how no one will know I can't throw or catch a ball as if I cared. Momma rolled her eyes at me and whispered how we should hope hope hope Miss Luchino never writes a show where Ingrid will have to roller skate or ride a bike or do something else silly or even dangerous! We crossed our fingers together and giggled, Momma and me. A person doesn't need friends in school when she has a mother like Momma! (I don't care even if Miss Luchino does write a show like that because now I know they can always hire the little girl who can do these silly things to be me and nobody will even know.) It's more important (and even Mr. Pierce says this) that I am such a professional and never complain (which reminds me of the best thing of all but I'll tell you after I tell you this) and that I have a fast memory and am so d—n (Mr. Pierce uses bad words a lot) smart and also can cry real tears any time the script says Ingrid cries. (I can, too. Even better than Margaret O'Brien. They said she always had to wait and think of something sad first. But I can just cry whenever they need me to. I don't know how I do it.)

But Pay Attention as Mr. Pierce always says if I talk too much. Pay Attention, diary, to the best part of all this week. I didn't tell you this before because I was too scared I wouldn't be able to finish it perfectly. See, every year on my birthday I always give Momma a present, too. Because, like she says, she was there when I was born. She almost died, too, diary. I never want to have a baby and almost die. Every night I pray thank you to God she didn't die and leave me an orphan. So when I was a tiny baby for my birthdays she would always get herself a little present too, along with the presents for me. Because she didn't die. But when I was four and already a big girl
I
started to give her her present on my birthday instead of her giving herself one. I only started getting an allowance last year (a whole quarter a week!) so until last year I drew a picture for Momma or wrote her a poem for her present. Last year I saved up my quarters
all year
and when Aunt Essie came up to New York I got to go shopping with her and I bought Momma pearl earrings. (They weren't real pearl but almost.) Momma loved them! But this year Aunt Essie never came because Momma and her had a fight last year and she hurt Momma's feelings and was just jealous of us. Aunt Yetta didn't come either. So how was I going to buy Momma her present without anybody to take me? (Never mind Momma if you see this ha ha I'll keep saving it up for
your
birthday, if I can find somebody to take me by then). Anyway so what was I going to do this year for Momma's present on
my
birthday? I didn't want to give her another poem or draw another picture. But then I thought of the perfect thing!