Online since June 1997!

The Trapeze Act

1992 -- "Your daddy will be here in the morning to take us to the circus, Georgy," Georgy's mother, Josephine, reminds him. He mumbles softly, half asleep, not responding to her words, but rather to her voice. After she tucks him in, she pulls the large Western-facing windows of their thirtieth floor penthouse closed. The streaking clouds of pollution are a spectacular shade of orange this evening. She thinks to herself how tremendous these windows are for such a small room, but what an inspirational view they provide all the same. Ivory runs under the bed, startled by Josephine's sudden tug on the curtains. She then jumps up on the sill and meows discontentedly for being disturbed from yet another nap. Estelle helps her straighten out the room as the flick off the light and make their way into the kitchen.

"Do you have to run off tonight?" Josephine asks, hopefully to avoid another lonely evening.

"Not at all. Would you like me to make you some cappuccino?"

"I'll make it, sit down and rest." Josephine smiles warmly at her in thanks.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure ... you know, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing George tomorrow." She moves around the stove to make the cappuccino. This is unfamiliar territory.

"Really? Are you two becoming an item again?" Estelle intrudes, trying not to sound too nosy.

"I really don't know. Every time we're together, I still feel like the three of us are a family. No matter how many gigs he goes out on ... no matter how long it has been since we've seen him, everything seems normal when he's here."

"He was never this happy since I've known him, madam. Even when he was married to his first wife he was not as happy as he are with you and you're divorced!"

"That is odd, isn't it. Things are so much simpler this way. It think he carries around a lot less guilt when he is not married, and so we're happier just being able to love each other 'from afar.'" Josephine hands her a cup of cappuccino.

"That's sweet." Estelle takes a sip.

"When he lived here with Rebecca did you know that they couldn't have children?"

"I heard a few things that led me to make that conclusion. They were always going to doctors -- specialists. Sometimes I would see the business cards on the refrigerator which mentioned the doctors specialty, such as infertility, gynecology, urology, etc." She covers her face in sudden embarrassment and her plump cheeks turn rosy.

"Don't be ashamed. I like 'mother wit.' I guess that had a lot to do with their marital problems, huh?"

"Oh, well I'm no psychologist like you, but his being away so much didn't help their marriage either. His mother always warned him that no lady was going to put up with his ways for very long, and Rebecca didn't."

"I guess not, eleven months is not much of a marriage. At least I made a year and a half."

Cautiously Estelle asks, "Can I ask why is it that you two were able to have children?"

"I'm not sure of the exact terminology, but apparently, George can only have children with a very small percentage of women, of which I was fortunately one of. I don't know, the doctor explained it better than I can."

"I'm sorry if I'm getting too personal."

"Estelle! You're family. Don't be silly. Do want another cup?"

"Please ... but still, madam, some things are meant to be between husband and wife."

"Well, we aren't married any more so there!" Josephine jokes.

"Now Estelle, don't be surprised if George is here the day after tomorrow when you get in in the morning. I don't want him feeling awkward if he wants to stay over."

"Oh, no, madam."

"Thanks. I hope he does stay. He really needs to spend more time with his son ..."

"He loves Georgy more than life you know, madam."

"Yes, I know ... Are you kidding, he spoils the little kid rotten! After being with his father, Georgy doesn't want to have anything to do with me sometimes." Estelle watches the cappuccino be swallowed down Josephine's long neck. Josephine puts her head back for a moment and stares at the ceiling with a big sigh. "You know, we really are like a family when we're out together."

"Well, you are a family. Why would you think otherwise?"

"I'm old-fashioned I guess."

The next morning Georgy wakes up early in anticipation of seeing his father.

"I want to wear my Care Bears sweater!" he cries to his mother as she dresses him.

"Stop it, Georgy, you want to be a handsome little boy for your daddy, don't you?"

"I don't want to wear that old stuffy shirt, I'm onwy four!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't want to look like a g'own up."

"Your daddy will be wearing a shirt just like this one..."

"O.K."

Estelle, invites George in. He shows himself into the bedroom where Josephine is dressing Georgy. Less one shoe, Georgy yells, "Dadddddy!!" as he frees himself from his mother's grasp and runs toward his father.

"He's just like his stubborn, impatient father," Josephine says out loud to herself. She also proceeds toward George.

Georgy lunges up at his father who catches him in midair, "How's my little pirate?"

"Awright," Georgy gasps, out of breath from his sprint across the small room.

"Let me put the other shoe on the little monster," Josephine playfully offers. She sneaks a friendly kiss on George's cheek as she forces Georgy's foot into the custom tennis shoes his father had made for him in L.A. He motions a silent kiss back to her as he pulls his son closer.

"Daddy, are you tawkin us to the circuz?"

"That's right champ, we're going to see 'The Greatest Show on Earth."

"What do they have at the circuz?"

"Well, they have clowns and animals and people who fly through the air."

"Fwy through the air?"

"You know, on trapezes and nets and stuff."

"Wow," he stares out the window in amazement.

"Let me just get our jackets and we'll be ready to go," Josephine interrupts.

Grabbing the camera, she leads them out the door and into the elevator. Carried by his father, Georgy yells "Weeee," as the elevator descends the thirty floors in one drop. Georgy loves the way his ears pop and the plunging feeling in his tummy.

At the circus the family enjoys cotton candy, acrobats, elephants, giraffes, lions, tigers and other exotic animals. Most of all Georgy enjoys the trapeze artists who fly through the air into one another's hands. They never fall, even though they have a net and would be all right if they did. George affectionately rubs Georgy's little neck after a while of staring at the top of Madison Square Garden. Georgy can't help but stare upward at the performers for so long. They have front row seats, courtesy of one of George's night club buddies who is working part-time during the day as the circus' master of ceremonies. Georgy sits on his daddy's lap the whole time.

After the show George takes his family to the best ice cream parlor in New York City. As they sit enjoying their ice cream, they go over their plans for the rest of George's stay in New York. "Are you goin' 'way ag'in Daddy?" Georgy asks about half way through his bowl of chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, the peanut butter sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"I'm afraid so, son, but I'll be here with you all day tomorrow and I'll be back in a couple of weeks too."

"Wha' we gonna do tom'row?"

"I don't know, what do you want to do, go to the zoo and see more animals, perhaps?"

"Nuh uh."

"Go to the park and have a picnic?"

"No. I wont to go fwying."

"'Flying?' Do you mean on an airplane?"

"No, fwying in the sky."

"Where do you want to go flying to, you silly goose?"

"I dunno...up," he smiles cutely with pride at his decision. His dimples accented by the colored, speckled candy that has found its way into them from the bowl.

"Well, maybe we'll take a ride up the Twin Towers so you can see the City from 110 stories in the sky. Won't that be exciting?"

"Uh," a shrug of the shoulders.

Josephine suggests, "Why don't we rent a helicopter and go for a ride? I bet he'll never want to fly again after an experience like that!"

"Yez I will!" he disagrees.

"Oh really? We'll see about that pumpkinhead," George warns. He nods in agreement that this is a good idea to Josephine.

Later on that night, after they put Georgy to bed, Josephine and George have a glass of wine together. So far it looks as if he will go back to his hotel tonight. She wonders if there is some spastic fan in his hotel lobby waiting to force herself upon him or worse, a girlfriend.

She says, "You know your son really bothers me sometimes. He sounds just like you when you become obsessed with something."

"Oh, do I really become obsessed?" George rhetorically asks, surprised and insulted, as if it were the first time he is criticized for being obsessive.

"You know what I mean," she says affectionately, giving him a pinch on the gut. This flirtation George ignores.

"You mean about my music? How many times do I have to tell you how important my music is to me, Josie?"

"But isn't there a limit? A place where you draw the line? I swear, sometimes it seems that you don't know if your in reality or fantasy. You work year round. The stage is a fantasy, George. Haven't you learned that by now?"

"Look, Josie," George lectures, beginning to sound impatient, "I don't need a person like you to tell me about the stage, especially because you've never even been a performer."

"Are you suggesting that I have to jump off a bridge to know what it feels like?" she retorts.

"Don't change the subject. What has Georgy been doing specifically?"

"He can't stop thinking and talking about 'fwying,' haven't you noticed? Every time he sees something on T.V. or somewhere about flying he goes off the handle. I've see the same damn look in his eyes when he gets going as when you start in with your music," she argues.

"Is there anything wrong with being happy with what you do?"

"Yes...if it isn't something healthy. Maybe it isn't harmful to sing in night clubs year round, but when you do or talk about other things compulsively, it can become unhealthy."

"Sorry 'Doctor'! I didn't realize I was being diagnosed again ... He's just a kid, Josie. Leave him alone for God's sake --"

"Excuse me, madam-George," Estelle interrupts.

George smiles at Estelle's familiar, gentle face. "Yes, Estelle?" Josephine asks.

"If you don't need me, I'll be going home?" she inputs meekly with an inconspicuous wink to Josephine.

"Of course dear, but could you just check on Georgy, I think Ivory ran under his bed again when I was in his room. I don't want her in there all night, she might scratch Georgy on the face."

"Very good madam."

Aware that Georgy is by now asleep, George lowers his voice to ask Josephine, "Don't you have a hard time keeping that foolish old Ivory away from that parakeet I bought Georgy last month?"

"Oh, Georgy didn't tell you on the phone? Georgy let him fly around the room and Abraham went straight out those huge--"

"AAAAeeeeeeeeeiiiii!!!!!" comes a blood-curdling scream from the back rooms. Josephine and George jump up to find Estelle kneeled on the floor in agony, but she doesn't appear to be hurt.

"Estelle! What's wrong!?" Josephine pleads.

"He's gone!!! He jumped out the window!"

George hesitates, the concept does not register with him. Josephine runs into the room in a morbid calm and looks at Georgy's empty bed. Directly above his bed are the enormous windows, opened widely. The curtains are drawn back. It is dusk.

Below are the sound of sirens, something not uncommon in New York City, but this time it was for an emergency in their building. George and Josephine scream in synchronous agony as they look over the sill in terror. Georgy jumped from his window. Their lives jumped from the window. "Why? Why? Why?" is all Josephine mutters.

George is in shock. They see their little boy as a speck on the pavement below. By now he has been covered with blankets from the paramedics who have arrived. There is a knock on the door. Sure enough, it is a paramedic and the doorman who recognized little Georgy and heard him as he fell.

Estelle, Josephine and George follow them downstairs to the ambulance where they stay with Georgy on the bumpy ride to the morgue. "He wanted to fly," Josephine cries in a whisper under the screaming siren to a sympathetic paramedic, her hands covering her face. "He wanted to go flying tomorrow, we were going to take him up in a helicopter..." George stares at her with guilt.