Page 82 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
The Reprise
The Carmichael Theatre plunged into darkness. Jonah steadied himself and waited for the clicking noise of the table seats along the front row to rise to the stage level and the subsequent gasps from the audience sitting in them as they realized what was happening. Julianna Orwell certainly had a vision. A circular, rotating stage with audience members around the outer ring, making them part of the experience. Customers of the Kit Kat Club. Jonah didn’t want to even think how much those seats must cost. When he first saw the layout of the stage, audience tables included, Jonah couldn’t believe Julianna was actually going through with it, and thought the best thing to do was walk straight out the door and be unemployed for a while; you couldn’t hide with the audience that close, any tiny mishap would be noticed and potentially pulled apart. But, after his brief moment of sheer panic, he relaxed with the idea; he trusted Julianna, and he trusted himself.Cabaretwith stage rotation and moving tables for the audience? It would be something entirely new for the West End, and he couldn’t wait to be part of it.
The orchestra played their first notes, and a spotlight shone down on him, center stage, alone. His costume would surely make his mother gasp, and he listened out for her, but heard nothing as he turned toward the audience, wearing only a tight corset with suspenders climbing up over his shoulders and leather shorts cut off to just above his knee. He wore black boots on his feet and white socks to his knees. Sparkling silver eyeshadow and deep red lipstick graced his skin, and his hair, parted to one side, his curls neat, pretty, playing on the fine line between masculineand feminine, finished the look, the perfect way to introduce the enigma of the Emcee to the audience. It was one of seven costumes he would wear throughout the show, the most changes he’d ever experienced, each one thought out with the tiniest details. Like this outfit for the opening number, with its not-so-subtle sexuality, black hearts stitched into the top part of the socks. Such a slight detail, not noticeable to the majority of the audience, but those who caught it would see the intricacies. Jonah fully expected Dexter to see it, what with his love for needlework.
Cabarethit differently thanThe Wooden Horse. The shocks in the latter came from the in-your-face violence and realistic bloody deaths, butCabaret? The shock came solely from the audience, seeing how someone like the Emcee contorted into something deadly and terrifying right before their eyes without them noticing until it was too late. Life in the cabaret was not beautiful, despite the Emcee’s assurances; it was dark and deceitful, and so heart-wrenchingly stunning he could hear people sobbing when the actress who played Sally Bowles performed the titular song toward the end of act two.The Wooden Horseleft people with a sense of hope, it told them Patroclus and Achilles found each other in the stars, andCabaretleft them reflecting on their life while shining an unapologetic torch on history. And, as much as Jonah lovedCabaret, he still loved the message ofThe Wooden Horsemore, and he’d keep it with him as a beacon of light while pouring his soul into a character he knew would keep him awake at night.
Achilles would be the light on the landing, the thing showing him the way home, back to the house in St. Ives where his father played the piano and made jam sandwiches to eat in the garden. Achilles would lead him home to Dexter every night, where they would hang up Emcee and Bobby Child and become themselves again, two idiots in love whose feet still hurt so much they splurged on a foot spa massager because it made Dexter feel fancy.
The stage rotated as the final scene ofCabaretplayed out, Jonah facing opposite the actor playing Cliff, the role he once played, and he thought of how far he’d come, now leading one of the most anticipated West End revivals with Julianna Orwell at the helm. He could feel all eyes on himas he sang the finale song, and he looked out and saw Dexter sitting with Mum, the two of them hanging on his every word and movement, the ending one of the most striking no matter the direction. Jonah thought of the people who came before him, from Joel Grey and Alan Cumming to Neil Patrick Harris and Raúl Esparza, and fully acknowledged the honor of now adding his name to the list of those lucky enough to play such a rich and complex role.
He’d done it. From sitting at the piano playing the notes to “I Don’t Care Much” slowly with his father, not understanding the meaning behind it, just feeling a deep connection to the tune and the way his father hummed it as they played, to now, standing on a stage in the West End in the role he always hoped might belong to him. He only wished his dad were there to see him, and in a way, Jonah knew he was there—not in a watching-over-him sense, but he could hear him in the music, in the way the pianist glided their fingers across the keys, and within his own voice as he sang his final notes. The stage descended into darkness, leaving the audience breathless, stunned, until they erupted into applause.
The warm June air greeted Jonah as he stepped out of the stage door at the Carmichael, and he smiled at the people waiting there for pictures and signatures. He felt a surge of anxiety strike him right in the chest, still not past the fear of someone marching forward and punching him in the face, which he thought was actually a pretty normal way to feel after being assaulted. But he saw Dexter and his mum standing close to the door, Dexter with the biggest bouquet of red roses Jonah had ever seen, and the panic quickly subsided. He was safe. He signed some programs and took photographs with the people who asked, then stopped when he came to a woman holding not only the newCabaretprogram but also the program fromThe Wooden Horse, the old small one printed on recycled paper.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I didn’t catch you at stage door when I saw you whenThe Wooden Horsefirst opened, and yours is the only signature I’m missing.”
Jonah smiled and took the pen she offered him, then signed both programs. “It’s absolutely fine. Thanks for coming to the show tonight, did you enjoy it?”
“Oh, God, I was blown away.” She smiled back at him. “I’ve never seenCabaretbefore, not even the film. I only came because you were in it. I’m quite the fan.” She blushed as she spoke and took the programs back from him. “Thank you for stopping to speak with me. I really appreciate it.”
“Thank you for coming to see the show,” Jonah said sincerely, and she stepped away to let him talk to the last few people remaining in line.
“Don’t forget to use the steamer I got for you,” Omari said before Jonah could walk away. “You were fabulous tonight.”
Jonah blinked in surprise at the compliment. Omari wasn’t one to talk about performances; he preferred to focus solely on skin and body care. “Thanks, so were you.”
“Oh, I know.” He smirked. “See you tomorrow when we can dazzle everyone all over again.”
As Omari sauntered away, Jonah went to his mum and Dexter, waving at a few people who still lingered, perhaps too shy to come speak to him but happy to wave, so he did so with a smile.
“Will you sign my program, sausage?” his mum asked as she rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a sharpie.
“Mum,” Jonah groaned, but took the pen and scrawled his name across the front of her booklet. “I’m your son. You don’t need to me to sign every program from every show I do.”
“You being my son is exactly why you should sign it for me!” she protested with a laugh as she slipped both the pen and program into her bag. “I’m proud of you, though seeing you in what I can only describe as frilly bloomers and not much else for the song about the threesomes was a bit eye-opening.”
“That was my favorite part,” Dexter said, and he kissed Jonah on the cheek, then handed him the flowers. “Hold these for me. Word must have leaked I was coming here tonight, because someone came and gave them to me, since I’m so famous and fabulous.” He smirked as he spoke. “God, I love being adored.”
Jonah raised an eyebrow at him, then looked at the flowers, the petalssoft, as if made of velvet. He smiled. “Oh, right? Of course, I will hold them for you, love.”
“I guess you can have them, though, seeing as you just had your opening night. It’s only fair, after all.”
“Is he always like this?” Jonah’s mum asked.
“Yes,” Jonah said swiftly before Dexter could protest.
“Well, whatever works for you both.” She looked between them and smiled. “Now, I’m going to love you and leave you.”
“What? Aren’t you going to travel back with us?” Jonah asked, not liking the thought of his mother, who hardly ever left St. Ives, skipping off into the heart of London at eleven at night on her own.
“No, dear. Cathy—you remember Cathy, don’t you? Her son got married to the girl he found on the internet? She sells the pickled onions at the market on the weekends? Well, she’s also in London this weekend and told me there’s a little late-night show we should go to, so she got us tickets and I’m going to meet her now.”
“A late-night show?” Dexter asked, quirking a brow.
“Oh, yes, lots of men dancing on tables, so I’ve heard.”
“Mum, are you going to a strip show?” Jonah asked, the sheer horror in his tone evident.
