Part 7

We went to Feivel. He cried, and cleaned out his cookie jar to stake us. When I told him what we had planned, though, he brightened up. "Dollink!" he squealed, throwing plump arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. "Finally, you come to your senses!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joe growled.

"Shut up, you brute," Feivel said absently. "You won't use one dime of that money for expenses, Dollink. You just come with me. Yani! Watch the store."

"Feivel," he started to growl.

Feivel glared at him. "So, you're liking sleeping on the couch now?" Yani shut up. Feivel led me and Joe upstairs to the apartment he and Yani shared. He took us through a neat little parlor and into a nicely decorated bedroom. There he threw open a big walk-in closet, gestured, and said, "What's mine is yours, bubbie."

I gaped. My God, it looked like Sale Day in the Ladies' Department at a decent department store. I mean day dresses, evening dresses, tea dresses, traveling suits, play suits, even a couple of formals. There were shoes in every color of the rainbow, most of them with heels and pointy toes. "Feivel," I whispered. "I had no idea."

He shrugged. "Yani doesn't like me to dress up for anyone but him. Eh, I hate hiding my light under a bushel, but I love the schlemiel, so what can I do? So, you..." he cast a disdainful look at Joe, "and I suppose you, since you're bubbie's friend, can just take what you need. I have tons. Oh, but not the blue chiffon, nu? I'm saving that for our anniversary."

We were all about the same height, so that worked out. Feivel was plumper than either of us, but he was also a whizz with a needle and thread. He altered several outfits for each of us while we, um, got ready.

First we shaved our faces, twice for the least stubble possible. Neither of us exactly had heavy beards, but... Hey, a little mustache on a dame can be kinda cute, but there are limits, even for a man who likes 'em natural.

Joe cussed a blue streak shaving his legs, nicking himself a couple of times. It wasn't so difficult for me. I hardly had any hair to start with, and, well, I just have a light touch.

He balked at shaving his pits. "Come on, Joe! How do you expect to feel fresh with those bushes under your arms?"

"I don't expect to feel fresh, I expect to feel alive."

"Look, we're going to be wearing evening gowns for the band. You can't count on long sleeves. It just wouldn't be very attractive, Joe, and there's probably a band policy."

"Oh, shut up and hand me the soap."

I'd never shaved there, either, and... No, I hadn't shaved my legs before, either. What are you thinking?

By the time we were done, Feivel had the outfits ready. He dug underwear for us out of a dresser. "You shouldn't worry, these have all just come from the Chinese laundry, where they curse your name, by the way."

Since neither one of us was even an A cup, we didn't have to bother with bras. Thank heavens the style was for no bust or hips these days. Feivel had some very silky underwear, and as I slipped them on, I began to think that women really had the right idea. They were much nicer than the plain cotton or knit long johns I was used to. Reeeeal nice, if ya know what I mean.

We both flatly refused girdles. Feivel sighed, "Well, what with the stockings being rolled down, they aren't strictly necessary. You're not like me," He slapped his plump hips. "you don't really need them."

The stockings were a revelation. I'd never felt anything so soft and smooth in my life. They made me wish the fashion was for full length stockings. I really wished I could feel what it was like to smooth those babies up my freshly shaved thighs...

Excuse me. I was just remembering there for a moment. *Harrump.

Joe and I got into the dresses and looked at each other. We both sighed. "We're not through yet," Feivel cautioned. "Go. Sit at the vanity."

Joe and I sat patiently while he instructed us on how to apply makeup, then handed us rouge, lipstick, powder, and eye shadow. We set to work. The first efforts were wiped off with many a sigh and a rolling of the eyes toward heaven. "This time try to look just a little less like the Whore of Babylon, bubbie. Less Ringling Brothers, more Clara Bow." The second try met his approval.

"Now, for the final touch." He brought two wigs out of a box, fluffing them. "I'm glad the trend is to short haircuts. I would have hated to give up my fall." He handed one to each of us. Joe made me swap wigs with him, taking the lightest blonde for himself, the hussy.

We fitted them on carefully, then looked at each other. After a moment, Joe shrugged. "I'd date you."

"You'd date Medusa if she'd hold the snakes, Joe." I looked at myself in the mirror, and paused. "Hey," I said wonderingly. "I'm kinda cute."

"Cute? You're a doll, bubbie." Feivel kissed my cheek. "If I was a lesbian, I'd be all over you. You're going to do all right. You..." He scowled at Joe. "Well, if someone with a steady job asks, say yes. You won't get many offers. You, my angel," he pinched my cheek. "You hold out for one of those Florida millionaires."

"Feivel," Joe growled. "He's a guy."

Hand to hip. "Any your point is?"

Feivel managed to scrounge up a couple of cheap suitcases for us, and a couple of even cheaper coats, but they did have fur collars. What beast gave up it's life for our adornment, I can't say, but there was a distinct smell of cheese about the fur collars, and I think I might have seen a crease across one of the furs that looked like it could have been made by a rat trap. Cloche hats and the most godawful instruments-of-torture shoes I've ever run into completed the ensembles.

We said our good-byes. Yani pinched Joe's butt. The last thing I saw was Feivel beating him with a rolled up newspaper, telling him that if he was going to act like a dog, he could be treated like one. Ain't love grand?

The platform was bustling when we arrived at the station. As we hurried along the side of the train, I could hear the announcer calling, "Florida Limited leaving on Track Seven for Washington, Charleston, Savannah, Jacksonville and Miami. All aboard. All aboard." My heart was racing. It was beginning to look like we were going to make it!

Unfortunately, as my feet were racing also, I slipped in those damn heels and twisted my ankle a little. I stopped to rub it, complaining, "How do they walk in these things?"

Joe paused. "Must be the way the weight is distributed. Come on."

We started off again, toward where we could see passengers embarking. A gust of wind came along and sent our skirts flying. I had to stop again to pull mine down to a decent level. Never mind modesty, there were certain things about me at that moment that needed to remain a mystery, if you know what I mean. "And it's so drafty. Why aren't they catching colds all the time?"

"They have an extra layer of fat under the skin for insulation. Quit stalling, we'll miss the train."

I complained. "I feel so naked. Like everyone's looking at me."

"With those legs? Are you crazy?"

Well, he didn't have to say that. It wasn't like he was Marlena Deitrich, either. We'd almost reached the Pullman reserved for Sweet Sue and her Society Synchopaters. Girl musicians, carrying musical instrument cases like us, were boarding, one right after the other, all blondes. A brassy broad and a prissy dude who had to be Sweet Sue and Bienstock were supervising.

I suddenly got cold feet. Not surprising with those skimpy stockings instead of socks. I stopped. "It's no use," I moaned. "We'll never get away with it, Joe."

Joe snapped at me. "The name is 'Josephine'. And it was your idea in the first place."

Just then a Blonde came hurrying past us. Please note that I said Blonde, with a capital B. This girl deserved to be capitalized, and probably had been--often. She was the dream of every red-blooded American male who'd ever read College Humor, and she was carrying a ukelele case. I stared after her in awe and dismay. "Who are we kidding? Look at that, look how she moves."

Joe was staring, too, but with more awe than dismay. "Yeah. Kinda like Jell-O on springs. She must have some kinda built in motor." He shook his head. "I'm tellin' you, Jer. It's a whole different sex."

I shrugged. "Oh, hell. What am I afraid of? No one's asking me to have a baby."

Joe nodded. "Right. This is just to get out of town. The minute we hit Florida, we'll blow this set-up."

I glared at him, and began to speak untruths. "This time I'm not going to let you talk me into anything that..."

Right then a newspaper boy came by, waving his papers and bawling out the headlines. "Extra! Extra! Seven Slaughtered in North Side Garage! Fear Bloody Aftermath!"

I looked at Joe. "You talked me into it. Come on, Josephine."

"Attagirl, Geraldine."

We hurried for the Pullman. I don't know about Joe, but I tried for the Jell-o-on-springs motion. I think maybe I achieved pudding.

Sue was greeting each girl as she board. "Hi, Mary Lou - Rosella - Okay, Dolores, get a move on - How’s your back, Olga?"

Bienstock was checking things off on a list. "Clarinet, drums, trumpet, trombone..."

We minced on up, and Joe caroled, "Well, here we are."

Sue looked us over. "You two from the Poliakoff agency?"

"Yes, we're the new goils."

I chimed in. "Brand new."

Sue gestured to the gent with the thick glasses. "This is our manager, Mr. Bienstock. I'm Sweet Sue."

Joe started introductions. "My name is Josephine, and..."

"And I'm Daphne." I got such a look from Joe, but I just smiled.

Bienstock made another couple of ticks on his list. "Saxophone, bass. Am I glad to see you girls. You saved our lives."

Joe smirked. "Likewise, I'm sure."

Sue enquired, "Where did you girls play before?"

Uh oh. No one had said anything about references. I said casually, "Oh, here, there... and... around."

Sue cocked an eyebrow. Joe said quickly, "We spent three years at the Sheboygan Conservatory of Music." They looked impressed. Did Sheboygan have a Conservatory of Music?

Well, they didn't have time to question, because the conductor was yelling, "All abooooard!"

Bienstock said, "You're in berths 7 and 7A."

I tried to be a lady. "Thank you ever so."

He beamed, "You're welcome."

"It's entirely mutual." As I started up the steps after Joe, I stumbled. Bienstock went to help me, aaaaand I got a little pat on the bottom.

"Upsie-daisy."

I arched a penciled eyebrow at him coyly. "Fresh!" Joe grabbed me and jerked me up into the vestibule.

Behind us, Bienstock took off his glasses and polished them, then slipped them in his pocket. I do believe he was gazing after me with a touch of admiration. I heard him say, "Looks like Poliakoff came through with a couple of real ladies." Real? I managed not to snicker.

Sue answered, "Yeah. You better tell the other girls to watch their language."

They mounted the steps, the porter pulled the steps up, and the train started. We were off. Joe quickly dragged me out of the vestibule, grabbed me, and pushed me up against a baggage rack. He said one word in an angry whisper. "Daphne?"

I smiled at him serenely. "I never did like the name Geraldine."