Free The Slipper by Jennifer Wilde Page A

attend?”
    â€œBecause you have a rare and wonderful gift,” he told her. “Because I feel that, with the proper training, you could be the most successful student I might ever have.”
    â€œMr. Compton, I—I don’t know what to say.”
    â€œSay you’ll attend.”
    â€œBut—I didn’t even finish high school, I told you that. They wouldn’t let me sign up for your class, and—and even if they would, I couldn’t possibly pay the tuition.”
    â€œLet me make the arrangements, Julie. You won’t have to register. You can audit the class—sit in,” he explained. “As for your paying a tuition, we won’t worry about that.”
    He had talked with her for a long time, trying to persuade her to attend the class, telling her that in all his years in the theater he had rarely witnessed magic like the magic he’d seen that evening. Working with her would be a joy for him. She would be doing him a favor. Julie had listened, unable to believe this was really happening to her, and in September, despite her reservations, despite Doug’s vehement objections, she started coming to class, and now he wanted her to try out for The Glass Menagerie . He wanted her to play Laura.
    Julie trudged across the campus in her old brown coat, a dull, insignificant sparrow compared to the swarm of merry, noisy students in brightly colored sweaters and bulky jackets and vivid woolen caps. No one spoke to her. No one really noticed her. Julian Compton had been wonderfully kind to her. She admired him with all her heart, worshipped him, in fact, although she was careful not to show it. Strange as it might be, he actually believed she had talent, believed she could become a real actress, and her playing Laura would be the first real test of his belief in her. He would be bitterly disappointed when she didn’t show up for tryouts tomorrow night, but … How could she ever explain to him that it was out of the question?
    She hadn’t the time, to begin with. She had to go to work at the Silver Bell every afternoon at three except Sundays, and she worked until ten. Even if she won the role, there was no way she could attend rehearsals, and even if she could attend, there … there was no way she could go out there in front of all those people and let them stare at her and see all her faults, all her deficiencies. She hadn’t that kind of courage. She wasn’t that brave. She could give a puppet show for children, yes, she loved children, children presented no threat, but … Julie sighed and left the campus, heading toward the row of shabby brick apartment buildings where she and Doug rented a basement flat. She could be Laura, a magnificent Laura, but only in the privacy of her own fantasy, not in front of the glare of spotlights, not in front of hundreds of hostile eyes. How could she explain these things to Mr. Compton, and how could she explain about Doug?
    Doug would have a fit if she even mentioned trying out for the role. He had been livid when she told him about meeting Mr. Compton, about his wanting her to attend the drama class. It was a preposterous idea, he protested. It was senseless. It was stupid. It would be a complete waste of time, and she hadn’t the time to spare. She’d make the time, Julie told him. It couldn’t do any harm just … just to sit in on the classes, without paying any kind of tuition, without getting any credit. Doug had continued to object, and he had finally shrugged his shoulders and said if that was what she wanted to do, fine, she could do it, she could make a fool of herself, but he would have no part of it. For once Julie had gone against his wishes, and although he hadn’t said anything else about it, she knew he resented her going to the classes. Whenever she tried to tell him about them, tell him about what she had learned, he just smiled that patient, superior smile and changed the