Honoree stepped forward and let the lyrics fly. Then another girl sang until one after another—everyone had a chance to sing.
The dance master tapped his cane on the floor, and Honoree closed her eyes. This was it. He was about to pick the new chorus girls.
“You, you, and you.”
Honoree struggled to catch her breath but bravely opened her eyes. Who, who, and who?
“Colethea Johnson, Hazel Reeves, and Honoree Dalcour. See Zelda tonight. You’ll be the trio in the Egyptian number.” He made one last tap of his cane, then exited the rehearsal room with the piano player on his heels.
Every muscle in Honoree’s body had gone numb.
Had he called her name? Yes.
Hot diggity dog!
You bet he called my name.
Jeepers.
The butterflies in her belly had new wings. What should she do? What should she say? What does one do when her dream comes true? What had her mother said?
Never mind her mother.
All Honoree knew was the dance master had called her name. She was gonna perform on the same stage as Lil Hardin Armstrong and her husband, Louis Armstrong, and the Dreamland Syncopators.
The best piano player on the Stroll. The best trumpet player in the world. And the best band in all Chicago—and the new chorus girl, Honoree Dalcour!
* * *
Honoree and the other two chorus girls had spent an hour in Zelda’s office signing contracts and another hour listening to a lecture on the proper behavior of young women in the employment of the Dreamland Cafe.
“When you work here, you show up on time. This is a decent establishment.” Zelda gently tugged on her taffeta neckline. “We don’t tolerate lateness, whoring, smoking weed, or drinking bootleg whiskey on the job. I also dislike uncleanliness and fighting. If you gotta beef with another girl, settle it outside or come see me, and I’ll handle it.”
Honoree liked Zelda. She spoke like a rough-and-ready street preacher, looking to save the sinners in the back pew. But she had an easy laugh, which didn’t burst Honoree’s eardrums the way Miss Dolly’s did. She also smelled like rosewater and Ivory soap, and not one drop of sweat marred her brow, despite the thickness of her high-collared taffeta gown.
“Y’all get dressed and get out of here,” Zelda said when she’d finished her lecture.
They hustled out of Miss Zelda’s office toward the changing room, but before they’d made it halfway, Zelda called after them: “Your first rehearsal is Monday morning at ten o’clock. Don’t be late.”
The threesome entered the changing room, and straightaway, Honoree spoke up. “My name is Honoree,” she said, with a friendly wave and a smile.
“I’m Hazel,” replied Finger Waves.
“My name is Colethea,” said Polka Dots.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Honoree dressed quickly and headed for the door.
“What’s your hurry?” Colethea asked.
“I want to see the main dressing room.”
“Why you wanna do that?” Hazel asked, putting on her coat. “We’ll be here every night of the week, including Sundays.”
“You don’t have to join me, but I’ve spent two years in a basement dressing room with my feet dodging rats and other crawly things. I just want to see what a real dressing room looks like.”
A friendly smile parted Colethea’s lips. “I’ll go with you.” She grabbed her coat.
Hazel exhaled a defeated sigh. “I’ll go, too, I guess, but only because I hate being left out.”
