TAXI GIRL
Chapter Twelve
Tania turned off the water.
“Why’s he going to Vail? It’s almost May. Isn’t ski season over?”
“I said jail, not Vail.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re telling me that your father goes to jail on the weekends?”
“It’s actually a federal prison camp in Marion. My mother drops him off on Friday and picks him up Sunday night.”
“Are you shittin’ me?”
“No, I’m not shittin’ you.”
“What was he convicted of?”
“Tax fraud. Lucky for him, he knew the judge from Tam-O-Links and got off easy.”
“What’s easy?”
“Three months of jail time and seventy-seven thousand three hundred twenty-six dollars and ninety-nine cents in restitution.”
“That’s a lot of money; what did he do?”
“. . . robbed Peter to pay Paul.”
On Monday afternoon, Tania and Dan boarded the 5:03 train to Kenosha. They got off at the Highland Park station and walked to Dan’s parents’ house, where a FOR SALE BY OWNER sign was staked in the lawn. Dan opened the front door and went inside; Tania followed.
“Hello, we’re here,” he called out.
There was no answer, just the sound of tap dancing and a woman singing the chorus of “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Dan called out again.
“Hello.”
The tapping and singing stopped; a voice called back.
“Daniel, is that you?”
“Yes; we’re here.”
Dan’s mother came downstairs wearing a black leotard with matching tights, white tap shoes and coral lipstick. A paisley print turban covered most of her red hair.
“I better take these off before I fall on my ass.” She kicked off the tap shoes and embraced Dan.
“I’m so happy to see you, Daniel. I feel like I did when Spanky the Baboon came back from the hospital. I never thought I’d see him again, but there he was holding his violin, ready to go on and do his act.” She turned to Tania.
“Now, introduce me to this beautiful young lady. Has she ever considered a career in show business? She certainly has the face and figure for it.”
Dan’s father, Jake, shuffled into the foyer. No one spoke.
Tania extended her hand to Dan’s mother; she took it and responded, “Kiki Kinelly Frankel; pleased to meet you. I sing. I dance. I do magic.”
“Tania Wildman. I drive a cab, do surrealistic comedy and like your son a lot.”
“Good,” said Dan’s mother. “Do you have a quarter?”
Tania gave her one.
Kiki held it up with her left hand, pretended to transfer it to her right, made a fist around the imaginary coin, circled the fist in the air and sang,
“Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.”
She slowly opened the fingers of her empty right hand.
“Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull’d by the moonlight, have all passed away!”
Kiki used her left hand to pull the quarter from behind Tania’s ear. Tania applauded.
“Time to dine,” announced Kiki. “We’re having gifts from the sea, nectar from the gods and apples from the earth.”
“Sounds wonderful,” said Tania.
Kiki swept into the dining room; the others followed.
“Papa, take your place at the head of the table; I’ll be at the other end. Tania, dear, please sit to my right, and Daniel, my darling, to my left.”
Each place was set with a Limoges cobalt-blue gold-encrusted dinner plate holding five canned sardines and two cold, boiled potatoes. Next to each plate was a Waterford crystal goblet filled with cherry Kool-Aid. To the right of Tania’s goblet was a two-fluid-ounce bottle of Eau de Chanel No 5 in a white cellophane-wrapped box. Kiki leaned over to her.
“They were on sale at Saks last July, so I bought a dozen.”
After everyone finished their sardines and potatoes, Kiki went into the kitchen. She returned carrying a sterling silver cake stand with a lit votive candle in between two Hostess Twinkies. She belted out,
“For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow!
Which nobody can deny.”
Dan lowered his head. Tania sang along. Jake Epstein sat in silence.
Tania and Dan were on their way out the door of his parents’ house at 7:18 p.m.
His mother called out, “Wait. I have something for you, Daniel.” Kiki disappeared and returned holding a knit throw; she handed it to Dan.
“It’s made of yarn I unraveled from your father’s cashmere sweaters.”
“Uh . . . thanks, Mother.”
“Remember, my darling boy, there is a method to my madness.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I love you, son.”
Tania and Dan walked in silence to the train station; they boarded the 7:34 for Chicago.
“Can I ask you not to do something?” said Dan.
Tania held her breath.
“Sure.”
“Can you not wear the perfume when we have sex?”
“How about if I don’t wear it at all?”
“That would be even better.”
The couple exited their passenger car at Northwestern Station, walked out onto Madison Street and crossed the bridge to the Loop. They got on an elevated train at Wells and got off at Sedgwick. Tania placed the bottle of Chanel No 5 on a bench under the platform’s awning and walked down the stairs with Dan to North Avenue.
“Can I ask you something?” said Tania.
“Sure,” said Dan.
“Can we stop at Sonny’s and get something to eat? I’m starving.”
Dan laughed.
“I was just gonna ask you the same thing.”
The couple entered the diner and were greeted by a blast of fluorescent light. They sat down on two green vinyl stools; Dan put the knit throw on the seat next to him; they were the only customers in the place. A counterman with slicked-back hair smelling of Brylcreem set two water-filled, cloudy-looking, scratched plastic drinking glasses in front of them. Tania ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with french fries.
Dan told the counterman, “I’ll have the same.”
There was silence.
Tania looked around and drummed her fingers on the Formica counter.
“Well,” she said. “Here we are.” She took a sip of water. “Are you gonna say something, or am I?”
“Say something about what?”
“Your parents.”
“What about my parents?”
“C’mon, Dan.”
“C’mon what?”
The counterman brought their sandwiches. Dan picked up one half of his grilled cheese and took a bite. He flung the rest across the counter.
“What do you want me to say? My mother’s nuts, and my father’s a piece of shit. Is that what you want me to say? Cuz that’s what I say to my therapist every week.”
The pair sat in silence. The counterman approached them.
“Didn’t like the sandwich, eh? How ’bout some chili?”
Dan walked Tania home. The pair entered the vestibule of her building. She unlocked the door to the lobby, and he left.
Tania phoned Dan on Wednesday evening.
“Are you coming on Saturday?”
“Of course.”
Tania got to the theater at 9:30 a.m. Dan was already there. The kids arrived at ten. Everyone went onto the sidewalk in front of the theater to shoot the sequence of Daphne jumping off a chair into the frame with the HOTEL CAIRO sign behind her. Then the kids lined up on the concrete walk behind the building. Dan turned the Bolex sideways to film Daphne and each individual superhero moving forward, hand over hand, along the rope Tania held off camera.
“You’re climbing up the side of the Great Pyramid to rescue Daphne,” explained Tania. “IT’S THIRTY-ONE FLOORS UP, SO LOOK TIRED!”
After the workshop, Tania and Dan stored the costumes and props at the theater.
“Do you wanna get something to eat?” asked Dan.
“Uh . . . sure,” said Tania. “Let’s go somewhere new, somewhere off the beaten path.”
“I know a place that serves gifts from the sea, nectar from the gods and apples from the earth,” said Dan.
“Not that far off.”
They looked into each other’s eyes and laughed.
Tania shook her head.
“That was some trip you took me on.”
“Believe me; it could have been worse,” said Dan. “They could have brought up my dead baby sister and argued about whose fault it was she drowned.”
There was silence.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Tania. “Let’s go somewhere Polynesian and have food we’ve never eaten before and cocktails with umbrellas in them.”
“There’s a place like that in the Whitestone Hotel. What does their ad say? Oh yeah. ‘Food and drink from the Pacific Islands in a setting of tropical splendor.’”
“Have you been there?” asked Tania.
“No, have you?”
“No, let’s go.”
When the following Saturday came, they filmed Daphne standing next to the HOTEL CAIRO sign taped to the brick facade of the theater building.
“Wave your arms in the air, Daphne,” directed Tania.
Dan shot the action from across the street.
Out of view, Tania waved her arms and shouted,
“Taxi . . . taxi!”
A cab pulled up in front of Daphne. After Dan yelled out that he got the shot, Tania gave the driver five bucks.
They finished the session with all the superheroes storming the back door of the theater, which had a sign on it that read DR. SFINKS’ SECRET CHAMBER – NO SOLICITING – NO LOITERING – NO POLITICAL CANVASSING – HAVE A NICE DAY.
The next week, Tania and Dan filmed Dr. Sfinks snoozing in front of the theater’s circuit-breaker panel with Daphne tied to a chair next to him.
“Try to free yourself,” directed Tania.
Daphne wriggled in her seat.
“Okay, superheroes, run in, untie Daphne and capture Dr. Sfinks.”
For the last sequence, Daphne and the superheroes rushed out the back door of the theater with Dr. Sfinks in tow.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry; the pyramid’s about to explode!” called out Tania. “Cut!”
Dan backed up for a shot of the whole group.
“Now, everybody cheer,” said Tania. “Oh yeah, except for you, Dr. Sfinks.”
Dan got the shot, then released his finger from the camera’s trigger; the Bolex’s motor stopped whirring.
“That’s a wrap,” said Tania.
Starting Sunday and into the following week, Tania and Dan made credits by gluing the headshots of the kids Tania took with the Polaroid SX-70 onto the costumes they drew for themselves at the first workshop session.
“What are we gonna call this thing?” asked Tania.
“Superheroes . . . Superheroes Save the Day,” said Dan. “Wait . . . that gives away the ending.”
“How about Space Story . . . No, how about Space Saga?”
“No . . . How about A Space Saga?”
“YES.”
Next, the pair handwrote and shot the titles.
“We’ll be ready for the showing, right?” asked Tania.
“Yeah, but we can’t have sex until we’re done.”
After dark, the duo laid out the pyramid setup in the alley behind Tania’s building. Tania stood on one of her folding chairs above the scene and out of camera range. Dan positioned himself on the ground, propped up the Bolex with his elbows and started the Sony cassette player. He filmed and recorded the explosions as Tania dropped fifty gravel-and-silver-fulminate-filled bang snaps onto the pyramid. Then they set the paper pyramid on fire and recorded it burning to the ground.
“THE END,” the two of them said in unison.
The couple viewed and spliced all the film footage on their reel-to-reel Super 8 editor and recorded a voice-over soundtrack with background music on the Sony tape deck.
Tania and Dan got to City Theater at 9 a.m. Saturday for the showing; the kids and their parents were due to arrive at ten. Tania put out cookies and juice in the lobby; Dan unpacked equipment in the auditorium. Tania set up Billy Miller’s movie screen on the stage. She turned on the projector and cued Dan to start the sound for a test run of A Space Saga. The film played on the screen, but the audio from the Sony tape deck was super slow and out of sync.
“Oh shit,” said Tania.
They tried again.
“Damn,” said Dan.
“Now we know why it was parked next to a dumpster,” said Tania.
