The Joys of Love Read Free

I’d never be an apprentice,” Ben said. “So J. P. Price offers me room and board in exchange for being assistant stage
manager and all I am is an apprentice who works harder, that’s all. And we’re so much better than the professional company and the stars—I mean you and me and Jane and John Peter—that’s the worst of it. I’ve never seen such a bunch of second-string hams in my life.” He pulled off his other shoe. “There’s more sand in my shoes than on the beach.”
    â€œWhat about Valborg Andersen?” Elizabeth asked, reaching out to steady Ben as he struggled to tie his shoelaces. “Don’t you think she’s good?”
    â€œNow there’s an actress,” Ben admitted. “I am enjoying watching her rehearse, so I guess it’s worth the rest of the summer just to see that, but I don’t think she should be doing Macbeth . Her Lady Macbeth stinks.”
    Elizabeth scratched a mosquito bite on one of her long suntanned legs—her legs, though less skinny, were almost as long as Ben’s—and looked at her watch again. Then she turned around and looked back across the boardwalk at the theatre. Now the last of the audience had dispersed and the building was dark, except for a light in J. P. Price’s office. She couldn’t see the back where the dressing rooms were. Perhaps Kurt was still talking to someone in one of them. “I guess Miss Andersen knows what she’s doing,” she told Ben.
    â€œYou’re so wrong,” Ben said. “It’s just the great ones like Andersen who don’t know what they’re doing.”
    â€œOkay. You’ve been around and I haven’t, so I can’t argue with you,” Elizabeth agreed, infuriated, “but you are lucky that you get to watch Miss Andersen rehearse. All the apprentices wish they could watch the professionals and the stars rehearse, but Mr. Price won’t allow it.” Elizabeth then laughed and said,
“When I saw Price about coming here I told him I’d played Lady Macbeth at school and he told me he wasn’t planning to produce Macbeth . I can hardly wait to see it on Monday.”
    â€œI bet you pray to that big picture of Valborg Andersen you have on your bureau,” Ben said.
    â€œIf I’d lived a few thousand years ago when graven images were still permitted, I probably would,” Elizabeth admitted.
    From the direction of the theatre they heard a voice, too blown by the wind to identify, calling, “Hoo-oo, Liz Jerrold!”
    Elizabeth twisted around on her pile, cupped her hands to her mouth, and called back, “Hoo-oo!”
    â€œTelephone!” the voice said.
    â€œOkay,” Elizabeth yelled, disappointed once again that it wasn’t Kurt. She jumped off her pile, landing lightly in the wet sand. A wave licked at her sandals. “Now, who on earth would be telephoning me ?” she asked Ben, and a vague feeling of unease spread over her. “If Kurt comes, tell him I’ll be right back, will you please?” she added.
    â€œSorry, toots,” Ben said, scrambling down from his pile. “The gaseous activity of my stomach will not be denied. I’m going down the boardwalk for some food.”
    Elizabeth crossed the sand to the boardwalk, pulled herself up, and stood, a tall slender shadow in the darkness, looking down at Ben.
    â€œGive me a hand,” Ben said plaintively. “You know I am not athletic.”
    Elizabeth extended a hand, which Ben clutched as he managed to clamber up beside her, panting. “It’s the awful life I
lead, turning night into day, as my dear grandmother would say. Come down later to Lukie’s and tell me who the call is from.”
    â€œMaybe,” Elizabeth said, and turned and ran toward the theatre.
    In the office Mr. Price was putting away some papers. “Call operator twenty-three,” he told her, “and put out the