Authors: Noel Streatfeild
California, Here We Go!
Time seemed to be running through a sieve. The Winters were no sooner back from the Bee Bee studios than they were rushing upstairs to change for Aunt Cora’s good-bye party.
Rachel had her frock over her head when suddenly there were shouts from downstairs. Jane opened the door. “What is it?” she called.
“Is Rachel there? Come down, Rachel, I want you.” Rachel, scrabbling at the buttons on her frock, rushed down the stairs. John was holding a cable. Jane hung over the landing rail to hear what the fuss was about. Had Monsieur Manoff asked Rachel to stay after all?
Rachel read the cable out loud.
PLEASE CABLE DATE ARRIVE LONDON STOP GLINKEN SAW RACHEL’S PHOTOGRAPH HEARD MANOFF’S VIEWS HER WORK WISHES SEE HER IMMEDIATELY VIEW ENGAGING HER GOOD DANCING ROLE NEW PRODUCTION. FIDOLIA.
Rachel’s hands shook so much with excitement she could hardly hold the telegram. “Oh, Dad! Oh, Dad!”
John took the cable from her. “Don’t shake it to pieces. I’ve got to answer it.” He put an arm around her. “I told you I refused to despair of your career.”
“But you said you felt in your bones it would happen here, and it never has.”
“Hasn’t it? Where are we now? Isn’t that the Ocean outside? Aren’t those mountains in California?”
Rachel had to hug herself with both arms. “I’m so happy it hurt.”
John gave her a kiss. “That’s good. It was your turn for a break. Good dancing role! Imagine how proud we’re all going to be on your first night.”
Jane went back into her bedroom. John and Rachel had not looked up. They did not know she had heard. “How proud we’re all going to be.” She scowled at the labeled luggage, “I suppose they’ll forget I was once nearly a film star. Well, fairly nearly one. They’ll talk, talk, talk about Rachel’s dancing and Tim’s piano, and Peaseblossom will say, ‘We may nit all be equally talented, but we can all be equally nice people. Then Jane remembered her pipes. She opened a drawer. Yes, right at the back under the lining paper was a lump. Let them wait. She would show them. She might start with only one small bird, but in the end she would have. . .
Peaseblossom opened the door.
“Not dressed yet, Jane? Let me do you up, the guests will be arriving soon. What were you dreaming about? Chewing-gum?”
Jane was still half in her daydream. “Partly him, but mostly lions, tigers, and elephants and giraffes. Did you ever see an absolutely tame giraffe in a circus, Peaseblossom?”
“No, dear, I can’t say I ever did.”
Jane spoke with superb confidence. “You will.”
Aunt Cora’s good-bye party was the biggest success of all her parties. Tim, after a time, gave up handing cups and plates around and went to the piano. He was feeling very happy. He was sorry to leave California, but he longed to travel on
The Chief
and
Mauretania
again. He felt much too happy to play ordinary music, so instead he played things people could sing. Presently all the guests were standing around the piano, roaring at the top of their voices. Tim finished in grand style with “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” John and Bee thought it polite of him to have finished with that, and the guests’ voices rose louder than ever as they sang Glory, glory, hallelujah.” But Tim had not played or for anybody in the living room; he was playing very loud so that it would reach the kitchen, where Bella would be singing, for that was her favorite hymn.
When everybody had gone, there was present giving. After much thought the whole family had combined on a lovely punch bowl and glasses to go with it for Aunt Cora, for after all giving parties was her favorite hobby. Aunt Cora was so pleased with her present, and so exhausted by her long day and the emotion of saying good-bye, that she had the beginnings of a nervous spell and had to go up to bed quickly that she would be fit to drive them the next day m the borrowed station wagon to their train.
After Aunt Cora had gone to bed, the family went to the kitchen and gave Bella her presents: a vase from Rachel; a china dog from Jane; a record from Tim; and the family group in a silver frame from the grown-ups.. Although, course, they would see Bella again in the morning, It was a proper good-bye and everybody felt miserable. Tears trickled down Bella’s wrinkled black cheeks.
“I sure hate to see you go. I couldn’t hate it more if you were my own family.”
Bee took her hands. “And we hate to leave you, Bella. You’ve been part of the family for six whole months.”
As they would have plenty of time to sleep on the tram, the children were allowed to take a last evening walk. John looked up at the stars.
“I shall remember the nights in California, more even than I shall remember the sun.”
“It’s the smell,” said Jane. “It smells California-ish.”
Rachel sniffed, then shook her head. “It isn’t. It’s the being warm that’s so California-ish, as if the sun were still out, only not showing.”
Tim was scornful. “You aren’t listening. It’s the tree frogs; they’re the most California-ish thing of all. I shall hear ker-up, ker-up forever and ever.”
Suddenly they were playing follow-the-leader up the street just as they had done at Thanksgiving. They sang their final and silliest version of “California, Here I Come.”
It was the same railroad station. The same train. Even the same coach, with dear Joe, his black face spread into a wide, recognizing grin, but it was so different from their arrival. Nothing was strange now, and instead of just Aunt Cora there was a crowd of people to see them off. Posy had rushed down to say that she had heard from Madame and wished Rachel the best of luck about the job. The Antonios were there to see the last of Tim. They brought everything they could think of that he would like from their drugstore and seemed to mind terribly that he was going away. Mrs. Antonio was crying.
“You take good care. I bum the candle. I burn ten candles.”
Mr. Antonio tried to smile, but he seemed to mind too much to do it very well. “I hate the train. I hate good-byes.” There were heaps of friends to say good-bye to Peaseblossom, Bee, and John, and they brought lovely good-bye presents. And Cora would have enjoyed the fuss except that she did not care about mixing socially with the Antonios; also, she had a feeling Posy noticed this and thought it very odd, as was true. With little steps Posy was dancing for Rachel her interpretation of Aunt Cora not liking the Antonios.
They were told to get on the train. Joe pulled up the steps. The family leaned forward, waving and shouting. The train started moving. They were off.
Jane had been squeezed to the back of the family. There had been nobody to see her off. She had not expected anybody, hut it did seem mean that she was the only one without a special friend. Of course, David wasn’t a railway station sort of person, but it would have been grand if he had marched down the platform, with Mickey on one shoulder and Bob on the other and perhaps Pedro walking behind.
“Now,” said Peaseblossom, “we must settle ourselves. You three children. . .”
Suddenly Joe was standing by them, an enormous box tied with wide satin bows in his arms. “Miss Jane Winter?” he inquired.
Jane was so surprised she could hardly untie the bows. She took the lid off the box. Inside, on top of sheets of green paper, was a card: “Best wishes and Bon Voyage from the Directors of Bee Bee Films Incorporated.” She pulled back the layers of paper. For a moment there was complete silence. Then Rachel said, “Orchids! Real film star flowers!”
Tim gaped into the box. “Hundreds of them!”
They all looked with respect at Jane. Rachel said, “The grandest thing that’s ever happened to us.”
Tim nodded. “Most likely the grandest thing that will ever happen to a Winter.”