Iris is pretty upset. She's already suggesting..." He
rolled his eyes.
"Suggesting what?"
"Dirty stuff." he said. "Between you and Miss
Hamilton." he added.
"She better not do it in front of me." I said. "Don't worry, she won't. She doesn't work that
way." He leaned toward me to add. "Just ignore them
all. Cinnamon. Concentrate on the play. You'll be
great," he said.
He sounded sincere. but I wondered if I could
trust him. It was the beginning. I thought, the
beginning of all the little intrigues that would
surround and invade every dramatic project with
which I would become involved. As always, the
hardest part was acting in real life and the easiest thing was doing the actual performance. The line between the real and the imagined was blurred. Once again, I understood that life itself was an ongoing play. Shakespeare was right: the world was a stage
and al
l of us merely players.
Well, it was my time to play and. I was now
determined. I would.
Mommy was so ecstatic over the news. I
thought she might get up, ask for her clothes and walk
out of the clinic with me right then and there. "I knew you would be chosen. Cinnamon. She
would have had to be a dullard not to see your
talents," Mammy told me.
"Sometimes, talent isn't what determines who
does and does not get the good roles. Mommy," I said.
"You taught me that."
She stared at me a moment. her eyes darkening. "Of course you're right, honey," she said. "But I
never meant to cause you to be cynical at so young an
age. We need our childhood faiths sometimes. We