Free Songs of Willow Frost by Jamie Ford Page B

Theatre was impossible to miss. Its glowing red and yellow neon sign must have been four stories tall—William spotted it from three blocks away and squeezed Charlotte’s hand. Plus flashing signs for KOMO and KJR adorned the roof, along with towering radio antennae, which broadcast NBC Red and NBC Blue. But his heart quickened even more when he saw the entrance to the theater and its Chinese motif—layers of gold and jade, with massive, studded double doors painted burgundy, the threshold guarded by a pair of giant Foo dogs. Each golden canine was at least a foot taller than he or Charlotte.
    “Is this the place?” she asked.
    William looked up at the lighted grand marquee, which read: SEATTLE’S OWN WEEPING WILLOW FROST. PLUS: STEPIN FETCHIT—THE WORLD’S LAZIEST MAN. FEATURING ASA BERGER AND THE FOX MOVIETONE PLAYERS, WITH THE INGÉNUES . Stepin was a bigger star and had been in dozens of movies, but Willow, a local hero, had managed top billing.
    “Without a doubt,” William said. He’d forgotten that the 5th Avenue was a Chinese theater, at least on the outside. Somehow it was fitting that Willow would be performing here. It was the audience that would appear out of place.
    William took Charlotte’s hand and showed her how to touch the ball within a Foo dog’s mouth. “You’re supposed to rub it for good luck.”
    “Do I make a wish?”
    “You can if you want.”
    Charlotte closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. Then she smiled.
    “We should get in line,” William said as a crowd gathered, everyone waiting for the box office to open. William’s eyes widened when he saw that the theater was showing movies—some with Willow, though most of them, like Show Boat and The Galloping Ghost , featured Stepin. There was also an anthology, showcasing some of the other performers who would be appearing live, once in the afternoon and once for the final show of the evening. As much as William wanted to watch the other movies, he knew that they needed to save their money. So he didn’t mention the other shows as they lined up and bought tickets from a blond woman for the matinee, which cost thirty cents apiece, half the price of the evening show.
    As he stared at the posters and portraits of Willow in her elaborate gown and dramatic makeup, he wondered what he’d say to her. Will she remember? And if not, will I be forced to beg for answers? She was famous and he was nothing. He began to doubt, suddenly bereft of hope, contemplating what he’d do if she weren’t his ah-ma. What then? He’d be on his own, but at least he wouldn’t feel so rejected. There was strange comfort in that.
    W ILLIAM AND C HARLOTTE spent the afternoon skipping from store to store, savoring the freedom they’d been starving for back atthe orphanage. They wandered like curious dogs with broken leashes. They lingered at Mozart’s Cigars until they were kicked out for loitering. And they played downstairs in the Bon Marché’s vast toy department, where Charlotte delighted in touching and squeezing the stuffed bears. They even tried on hats at Best’s Apparel, until a customer mistook William for an Indian and a security guard was roused to chase them off. Neither of them seemed to mind. The city was noisy, and smelly, and fragrant, and even though poverty and joblessness had consumed whole boarded-up neighborhoods, the downtown district was alive. Plus, there were storefront theaters on almost every block—sometimes three or four in a row, showing second-run talkies, newsreels, cartoons, and a mix of silent photoplays. Motion pictures seemed to be the only business that was thriving.
    By the time they got back to the 5th Avenue Theatre, William’s legs were tired and his feet sore from walking in shoes one size too small. But that discomfort diminished with each minute that ticked away, bringing them that much closer to showtime. As they waited, some of the people in line gave them queer looks or commented under their breath,