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Chapter One
“Wake up, we’re here,” Holly said.
Jana Peters opened her eyes, then grabbed onto the dashboard as Holly’s car bounced off the highway onto the rutted dirt lot. As Holly slowed down, Jana saw that they’d arrived. Peering out through the fogged window, she read the marque above the bar.
Talent Show Tonight!
$500 Grand Prize
Holly brought her car to a stop directly in front of the steps leading to the bar and left the engine idling. This is it, girl. Jana reached for the plastic bag at her feet overstuffed with her performance clothes and tried to summon the courage to get out of the car, but it didn’t come. A couple talking loudly walked by and headed up the steps. Jana watched them move past the smoker’s congregating near the entrance then disappear inside. It was Friday night, so it didn’t surprise her that the parking lot was packed and the crowd inside would be near capacity. She tried not to think about how many people would be watching her, judging her.
“Well, are you getting out?” Holly sounded tense, impatient.
Jana dropped her chin to her chest. She couldn’t disappoint her friend. It was time to suck it up. She nodded and reached for the door handle, pushing it open a few inches. A wave of cold hit her, and it had nothing to do with the chill mountain air outside. Stage freight. She’d battled it her whole life. She loved to sing, alone. Not in front of others. That’s why she’d become a teacher, after all, and not a professional singer, like her mom.
Jana squeezed her eyes shut. Get a grip. This talent show is your only option. Holly’s not going to let you hide out in her apartment forever.
“What’s wrong with you girl, you look white as a white person.”
Pushing away an urge to be sick, Jana sucked in air, then unbuckled herself. “I’m alright, just pre-show jitters.”
Once Holly’s car was out of site, Jana squared her shoulders and climbed the wooden steps, as she raised the hood of her jacket, and dropped her hair over her face. The place was packed with people, which Jana considered a small comfort. For once, she didn’t stand out. In one corner of the room, a line of people waited to register for the talent show. She took her spot, keeping a safe distance from a stout man with an accordion strapped onto his belly in front of her. She kept her head down and her thoughts to herself as she waited her turn.
When she got to the front of the line, a joyless middle-aged woman with leathery skin and a scowl to match snatched the two twenty dollar bills out of her hand and stuffed them crossly into a two gallon plastic jar. Jana felt a rush of excitement at the sight of all that money in one place. If she could win the contest, then the money would be hers.
The sour faced woman scanned the form indifferently, then appeared to smell something unpleasant under her nose. “Bombshell?” she said.
Jana lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Since she’d ask Holly to spread a rumor around town that she’d left town to help a sick relative. She didn’t want to put down her real name on the registration form, so she used the nick name Jimmy had given her. She looked the women straight in the eye and held her gaze. “Yes, that’s correct.”
The women gave a disdainful smirk, but blinked first. Jana pushed past her and handed him her sheet music to the man behind the piano. An eye brow shot up as he stared curiously at the hand-written arrangement inked in her exacting and careful font. She assumed he’d never been asked to play an arrangement written on sheets torn from a yellow legal pad before, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She held her head high and didn’t flinch. Finally, he let out a little laugh and smiled.
“Sure, I can do this, but you better hurry up.”
Jana gave him a questioning glance. He motioned her to step closer. She did. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Old fish face over there loves to disqualify contestants by making them miss their queue, so if you’re planning on changing clothes - don’t dilly dally. She doesn’t give refunds.”
“Thank you,” Jana said. She scrambled through the crowds and prayed there’d be a place to change. The backstage was just a store room filled crates of liquor and ten or so contestants. Jana went to the ladies room and squeezed herself into the tiny stall.
By the time she’d managed to pry Holly’s too small dress over her full-size body, and then strap on Holly’s size ten dancing shoes on her size eleven feet while bouncing on one leg and holding onto the top of the stall door – she was completely out of breath. The strap dug painfully into her heel, but she didn’t care. She welcomed it. Pain would help her focus.
Once out of the stall, she stuffed her jeans and street clothes into the plastic trash bag, the bent down to look into the mirror. She touched up her makeup, then tried to fix her hair. Hopeless. She reached into the bag and pulled out Jimmy’s wig. She shook it out and admired the soft blonde Marilyn Monroe curls. Outside her door, she heard the muffled sound of someone at the microphone. They were starting soon – she needed to get into the back stage and be ready. They could call her first.
She held the wig up to her face. It seemed wrong, somehow, disingenuous, dishonest to put a blonde wig on a black girl. She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this. Just do it. She pulled it on.
The wig was from Jimmy’s drag queen collection. It was expensive, he kept reminding her, and she could understand why. It was quite stunning, soft real hair. Jana admired the way the light curls fell against her deep honey brown skin.
After tucking all her black hair out of sight, she took a moment to look at herself. She didn’t recognize herself – it was if she was looking at someone else. All fear she’d been expecting to overtake her at that moment had vanished with her black hair. Jana Peters wasn’t about to go on stage – Bombshell was. And Bombshell didn’t suffer from stage freight.
