From the Ashes a Fire Shall Waken

“Whatcha doin’, Cal?”
Calain whirled around, surprised to hear her friend’s voice.
“Jen! What are you doing here?” Jen smiled mysteriously. She flipped her long auburn hair back from her face, and put her hands on her hips in a motherly fashion.
“I was just going to ask you the same. Shouldn’t you be in bed? I heard your voice from way up in my apartment.” She waved aimlessly towards the top of a tall, red-bricked apartment, colored with years of graffiti. Calain blushed.
“I didn’t know my singing was that loud. Sorry.” Jen put her arm around Calain’s small, skinny shoulders, and whispered, “Cal, why do you always sneak out at night into this cold alley just to sing?” Calain looked up into the young, ambitious face that looked so much like her mother’s. “Well,” started Calain, “I remember watching my mom perform in front of people when I was real little.” Calain sighed. It had been 2 years since her mother’s death and poor 6 year old Calain had never lost the pain of that memory. “I thought that it would be really cool to perform just like her. You know, continue her work?” Jen laughed a little, looking into the deep, serious blue eyes. “You do have a determined mind Calain. Just like your mother. Well, you certainly don’t need help with any singing, but I bet I could help you with some dance moves, and even maybe some gymnastics.” “Really? You’re not kidding? This is so cool!” Calain tried to struggle out of Jen’s arms but she held tight. “Cal, don’t tell your dad right now, ok? Let it be a surprise. Meet me tomorrow here, at twilight.” She let Calain go and the little figure ran joyously toward her apartment. Jen sighed as she watched the moonlight dance on Call’s short, stubby brown hair. “Well, finally those lessons will do her some good. Too bad that poor girl’s father hasn’t even enough money to keep the girl dressed properly. Perhaps little Cal will make some money for her father.” Jen sighed again and retreated to her own apartment.
Calain, or Cal, as she was better known, fled from the alley on dancing feet. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” she called as she reached her two-bedroom apartment, racing through the door and slamming it behind her. A weary, disheveled man of about 40 peeked out of a doorway. “Daddy!” Cal exclaimed as she ran into his outstretched arms. The man scooped her up and rested Cal on his hip. “Whoa! You’re getting heavy little girl!” He tickled her and Cal shouted with laughter. “Guess what!-“ Cal stopped short, remembering Jen’s warning. “What?” her dad asked. “Uh, it’s a secret! I can’t tell you!” Cal giggled and squirmed out of his arms. “Alright, off to bed with you, Cally girl!” He chased after her, eventually scooping her up and tucking her under the covers of a mattress lain on the ground as a make-shift bed. Cal smiled. ‘Cally girl’ was the name her father liked to call her. The man turned out a lamp sitting on a desk near the mattress. He ran his fingers through his greasy hair and snuggled under the covers with Cal. “You know what, daddy?” “What?” Cal’s dad answered in a slightly annoyed tone. “I love you.” He turned around. “I love you too, Cal.”

Cal’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer when she turned 13. Up until then neither her parents nor the doctor ever bothered to check why she was so pale and skinny. Cal’s mother had gone through many treatments before she met Cal’s father and fell in love with him. She had had blonde hair, sparkling pale blue eyes, and a small, slender body structure. They were married in mid-summer. Six years passed, and at the age of 31 Cal’s mother died of leukemia. Calain had been only four years old.

The next morning proved to be fair and bright; the air smelling strongly of the roses from Jen’s little garden in the alley. The birds in the boughs of some cherry trees planted a few years back behind Call’s apartment sang madly. Oblivious to all the wonderment outside was Call’s father, sitting distressed at his desk, papers spread out across the top and on the floor. His forehead lay resting in his hand. He sighed. There was no way round. They would have to move out. He couldn’t send Cal to school and afford to keep the apartment. He looked over to Cal, who was scribbling on a piece of paper. “Uh, Cal, honey.” Cal looked up from her drawing. The tone of his voice startled her. His face looked more tired than usual. “Yeah dad?” she said, trying to hide the anxiousness in her voice. Call’s father got up from his chair and kneeled down beside her. “Cal, there’s something I have to explain to you. We only have so much money. And, I have to send you school, because it’s a law. A rule.” “You mean, you have rules you have to follow too?” Cal’s father grinned. “Yes, even grown-ups have rules they have to follow. Well, Cal.” He glanced at his daughter’s skinny shoulders and skimpy clothes. “We don’t have enough money to keep this apartment and send you to school. You see….” Cal jumped up, tears in her eyes, but she held them back. “I’ll help! I can make some money for us! You’ll see! We’ll be able to stay here! We will!” She ran out the front door. “Cal!” Her father sprang up. Once Cal got an idea in her head there was no defying it. He sighed again. Just like her mother, he thought, as he slowly took off his shoes and plopped down on the mattress to take a nap.
Mean while, Cal sprinted towards Jen’s apartment, tears quickly filling up her eyes. When Jen let her in the house she collapsed sobbing into Jen’s arms. Bewildered, Jen carried the child into the apartment and lay her down on the couch. She patiently waited until Cal’s sobs were quiet and then said, “Cal, what’s wrong?” Cal looked at her through tear streamed eyes. “Daddy, daddy said, we, we, don’t have enough money!” at that she burst into sobs once again. Immediately Jen understood. She rubbed Cal’s back comfortingly. In spite of herself tears came to her eyes. “Oh Cal. It’s going to be alright. Don’t worry. Your dad is very smart. I’m sure he’ll figure out something.” Cal sat straight up. “That’s why I came here. I got an idea. I could make money for him. I could perform in front of people. Then we’ll get to stay in the apartment. Jen laughed softly. “Oh Cal. It’s much more complicated than that. But if you really want to perform…” “Yes! Yes I do!” Cal said excitedly. Jen laughed out loud. “Ok, ok, alright. I’ll help you. The rent isn’t due till next month, so you have until then to make your money. Ok, tell me what your plan is and I’ll help you.”
Together they spent the day deciding on how Call’s business would run. They decided that it would be best not to tell Call’s dad until the first performance. Jen helped Cal make signs to draw people to her performances. Next she took Cal to the calendar and picked out which days she would perform. They decided she would perform once a week, and Jen would help her with a new routine after each performance. Cal was delighted at the idea. Nothing could be done about costume, so Cal would just have to perform in what she wore everyday. Jen sent Cal home at twilight with a smile on her face. “That girl’s got heart, I tell you.” She said to no one in particular.
The following weeks Jen worked with Cal after her father had gone to bed. They met out in the alley, where Jen had brought an extra mattress to serve as a practice stage and mat to do gymnastics on. After four weeks little skinny Cal could do a back flip on her own. Jen pried her memory for basic ballet steps and taught them to Cal. Another week later Cal had a full, memorized routine.

“Do you think they’ll like it?” Cal asked Jen anxiously. Jen smiled. “Of course. You’ve got the whole thing memorized practically forwards and backwards.” Cal quickly hugged her. Jen stepped out into the moonlight.
Cal waited in the alley for Jen to come back and tell her it was time. Nervously Cal tugged at her clothes. Jen came back to her reporting that the audience, a few neighbors and friends, were all seated on the ground and that Cal was ready to perform. “Go out there and do it for your mom.” Were Jen’s last words as she pushed Cal in front of the crowd.
Cal’s first instincts were to turn and run, looking at all the upturned, surprised faces. Then, remembering Jen’s words, she took a deep breath in and began to sing softly but in a clear voice. Slowly she became more confident and sang full out. Her notes reached the highest of the apartments around her; they floated across the dumbstruck faces watching her, and drifted to Cal’s father, sitting at his desk inside the apartment behind Cal. He lifted his head in wonder. Quickly he hurried outside half expecting to see his wife standing there. Instead he stood gaping at Cal stupidly. Cal began to move her arms and dance around in circles, still singing. Then she paused, set herself up, and flipped backwards towards the stunned audience. The crowd clapped and shouted in amazement. Cal smiled inside and put her whole heart into it.

Perhaps by chance, if chance it was, an old gray man walked very near to where Cal was performing. He spotted her dancing and tumbling and stood open eyed. He rubbed his eyes. He must be dreaming! He thought. A perfect opportunity to get back to his old business. He would show that old Jimmy! He wrote boring stories! Ha! The man ambled as quickly as he could to the audience and pulled out a notebook and pen. Silently he scribbled into it. With a story like this, he would definitely become a famous news reporter! He’d travel all over the world!
Cal didn’t notice the man but Jen did. She looked worriedly over at him. What was he doing? Swiftly she scurried over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. The man was so startled he nearly fell over. “Uh, excuse me, sir.” Jen started in a whisper, “what are you doing here?” “Oh! Hello! You must be the girl’s mother. I’m a news reporter-well; I was, until I got fired today. But oh! This story will get me right back in the business! So tell me, where did your daughter learn to perform like this?” Jen stared in amazement. A news reporter! Jen knew if Cal’s performance got out, she’d be pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions. Something like what Cal was doing was extremely uncommon. Who knows, poor little six year old Calain may be pushed all the way to Hollywood! Jen didn’t think either her father or Cal could take that kind of treatment. “Uh, sir, I’m sorry, I’m not her mother. Cal is just doing this to make some money for her father.” Jen was sorry as soon as it came out. “Wow! Really? So who are the parents? This is amazing!” the old man said as he wrote furiously in his notebook.
Cheers erupted from the crowd. Jen looked up. Cal had finished. She was beaming with joy. A tin can was passed around for tips. When the can came back, Jen counted the money. “Check it out Cal! $43! Great job! Especially on your first performance!” Cal’s father emerged from his state of surprise. “Well this is certainly a surprise!” Cal ran into his arms. “Now will we have enough money to stay in the house and go to school?” Cal asked. Her father laughed heartily, something Cal had not heard for many months. “We’ll see.” He finally said. He carried her into the apartment. Jen left them and solemnly marched to her own apartment. The news reporter had disappeared-for the moment. Jen had a feeling that they had not seen the last of him.
The following weeks Cal spent practicing and performing different routines to show different audiences. The news reporter didn’t show up again. More and more people came to see little Cal, even rich people from the center of the city. Cal threw her whole heart into performing and nothing else. Her father watched Cal’s every act proudly. But as the day to pay the rent grew closer and closer, Cal’s father grew more nervous.
Cal awoke one cold grey morning to find her dad sitting at his desk with his head in his arms. “Daddy?” Cal said quietly. Slowly he lifted his head. “Hey honey. What’s up?” Cal shivered. “Today’s the day, isn’t it?” Cal’s father only smiled and returned his head to his arms.
Cal bounded out of the mattress and grabbed the jar that held all the money she had made from performing. It was overflowing with dollar bills. She yanked open the top and dumped out the money onto his desk. “Count it. I can’t count.” Her father looked up at her serious face. He didn’t smile or laugh. Silently and slowly he counted out the money. Cal watched with anticipation. Jen knocked on the door, and when no one answered it she came right in. Immediately seeing Cal’s father and the money she registered what was going on. Quietly she stood and watched.
When Cal’s father reached the last dollar bill, Cal and Jen both stared at his expression. At first, they could see nothing. Then slowly, they saw bewilderment, and then a smile slowly spread across his lips. He turned to Cal and embraced her, then planted a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.” He whispered in her ear. Cal squeezed him back. “Me too.” Jen sighed. “Does this mean we get to keep the house and go to school?” Cal asked. Her father said, “Yes, yes it does my darling. And all because of you.” He scooped her up onto his lap and shot a ‘thank you’ look at Jen. Jen mouthed a ‘your welcome’ and left.

That night Jen sat late up into the night thinking about the news reporter and everything that could happen to poor little Cal and her dad. Cal could be put into a hard position: she could be made to perform in front of millions of people. Jen doubted that this would have a positive effect on the child.
But even though Jen kept a sharp look out for the news reporter, he never appeared at any of Cal’s performances the following weeks. Cal and Jen worked every night until it became too dark to see and then she would send Cal home to bed. Soon little Cal had become a popular public attraction. People knew her as ‘Lil’ Cally’ or ‘Cutie Cal.’ Calain at first was surprised at all the attention she got, but soon regarded it as everyday business. Cal’s father never worried about the rent again. They cleaned the house up, Cal was bought a new dress on the insistence of Jen, and Cal went to a nearby school where she was the envy of all the girls.
Days, months, then years passed. Jen had nearly forgotten about the news reporter until one warm morning in mid-summer.

The public still called her ‘Lil Cal’ but she could hardly be called little. 12 year
Cal had grown to a rather small height of 4’ 11”. Her once short, thin plain brown hair had grown to a length down to her waist, and had turned a beautiful brunet. With all these changes if you didn’t know her well you might have mistaken her for someone else. Unless you happened to glance into her eyes. Her young, joyful, ambitious crystal pale blue eyes hadn’t changed from the time she was born and her mother’s identical eyes looked into hers.
Jen stepped out onto the apartment’s doorstep. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Even though the summer was half way over, the air still smelled of spring. Glancing down she bent to pick up the newspaper below her. Her eyes scanned the front cover. Shocked she almost fell over. Quickly she regained her senses and brought the paper into the apartment.
Silently with a solemn expression she read over an article briefly. Then hurriedly she dressed and sprinted over to Cal’s apartment.
Cal answered the doorbell. She welcomed Jen warmly. Cal’s father came to the door. He had changed a lot since she had last seen him, Jen thought. His hair was neatly parted, his face had been scrubbed, and the circles under his eyes had long disappeared. “Cal, I need to talk to you.” Cal searched Jen’s expression but found nothing. Quietly they sat down together. Cal’s father retreated to anther room. “Cal, you have to understand me. You know how you have been doing all these performances on the street?” Jen didn’t expect an answer. “Well, when you were very little, about six or so, you did your first performance. At that performance, a news reporter showed up. He took a lot of notes. I didn’t worry about it very much, because so much time has gone by, but now-here, look.” She handed the newspaper to Cal. Soberly Cal received it. Her mouth dropped open in amazement. Across the title of the newspaper in large black letters the words were printed: 6-YEAR OLD GIRL PERFORMS TO HELP FATHER IN FINANCIAL PROBLEMS
Underneath it, there was a picture of Cal when doing a back flip at her first performance. “I don’t know how he got the picture, but just read the article.” Cal skimmed over the article next to the picture. “So-so they want me to go all the way to L.A. to perform?” Jen nodded yes. “Well-I’d love to go. But you seem unhappy about it Jen; what’s wrong?” Jen looked up into Cal’s eyes, surprised to see how grown-up she looked. “Well, you’ll be getting yourself into a mess of fame and popularity that-that…..oh, I’m just afraid about how heart broken you will be if you don’t get everything right the first time or if you lose anything.” Secretly Cal didn’t quite understand what Jen was saying, but she listened politely. “You really think I’m going to become famous?” “Well, yes. You’re very popular here. You are amazing. I guess we’ll just miss you.” Jen broke down into sobs and Cal quickly embraced her. When Jen had quieted, she said, “You seem to know more about this than I do. I know that I like to run headlong into things and that I get my hopes up too high. But this seems like a really good opportunity to get some money for you.” Cal knew that Jen was running low on money, and that the small amounts of money she made performing weren’t enough to keep her in school and stay in the apartment. “If you go, what will you do about school?” Jen asked through her sobs. “I’ll cut school.” “What!” her father yelled suddenly appearing from around the corner. “Dad, I’m going to be famous. I have to go to L.A. It won’t matter if I’m in school or not. We need money. It’s the only way ‘round.” Her father suddenly realizing the situation stayed quiet. “How do you know your going to be famous?” he asked finally. Cal answered, “I don’t know. But it’s the only way to stay in the apartment.” Her father glanced quickly into the eyes of her daughter and spoke softly as if he didn’t believe he was saying it, “Alright-I-I suppose you must go.” Cal jumped up in excitement, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining with delight. “Oh daddy, I won’t let you down. We’ll never be poor again!” Were Cal’s words to her father as she embraced him with a bear hug.

A letter was sent to L.A. Hollywood saying that Cal would be delighted in coming to see them. A letter was sent back to Cal saying that they would be overjoyed if she would come down to perform for them. They also said that all the airplane tickets and expenses would be paid for them. “What an honor.” Said Jen rather suspiciously when they got the letter. Cal just beamed and if she had heard Jen’s comment she didn’t show any sign of it affecting her.
Cal stared out the window of the taxi in wonder. Ten-story high skyscrapers flew past her. People dressed fashionably in fur coats and hats walked by. Cal had never seen anything like it. Obviously neither had Jen or her father, because their faces were pressed to the window practically the whole car ride to the airport. Cal rolled down the window and let the cool air blow into the face, whisking her long hair in all directions. Cal had lost track of time for the moment. The car ride only seemed to last a couple of minutes, but the driver insisted that it must have been longer than that, his legs were so cramped. As soon as the reached the airport Cal jumped out of the car and ran outside. She stopped short. She looked all about her; she had never seen an object so big before as were the airplanes sitting proud and important around her. “We’re-really are going to ride in one of those things?” She turned to ask her dad in disbelief. “Yes, honey.” “Oh wow! This is soooooo cool!” She danced all the way to the lobby, where they were supposed to wait for her ‘private jet.’ Secretly, the driver, as he drove off watching little Cal, thought that she must have been adopted; he couldn’t see for the life of him that ‘old man’ dancing around like that.
“You know, just the words, ‘private jet’ make shivers go up and down my spine with excitement. Is it really my own, ‘private jet?’
“Well, not exactly. Hollywood expects already that you’ll be a star and so they’re introducing to you all these foolishly expensive things that you’ll get.” Jen answered Cal with a sniff. “Cal, you’re really sure you want to do this?”
Just then there was an announcement over the intercom saying that flight 101 was leaving in 10 minutes, and that all passengers boarding that flight were asked to please report to the Gates. “That’s us!” Cal exclaimed, more excited that ever. She jumped up but before she ran off Jen grabbed her by the collar. “Wait just a minute. You’re not going to Hollywood looking like that.” Quickly Jen pulled out some lipstick and eye shadow and put it on Cal’s face. “There.” Said Jen satisfied. Cal really didn’t need any make-up, but she did look pretty once Jen was done. Pulling away Cal hurried toward the Gate.

Cal made herself comfy in one of the airplane’s blue cushioned seats. Jen and her father sat next to her, staring straight ahead and trying with all their might to hold in their excitement. The ‘private jet’ made for Cal had only 12 seats in rows of 3 going back in one aisle against one side of the plane. On the other side were couches and a coffee table, screwed into the floor. On both ends of the plane were a bathroom and the flight attendant’s little room where they prepared the food.
Cal had insisted on sitting in the window seat. She pressed her nose against the window and stared outside in fascination. From high up in the plane all the people and workers outside looked tiny. She could see a truck full with all their baggage drive up to the plane. Cal grinned.
Suddenly the plane lurched and a voice came over the intercom saying that they were ready for take off. Millions of questions and worries swarmed her head. What if they didn’t make it off the ground? What if they crashed and everyone died?
Before Cal was ready she felt herself pushed back against her chair. A flight attendant came by and buckled her seatbelt. Cal grabbed the arms of the seat. She looked over at her dad and Jen and saw that they were doing the same with frightened expressions on their faces. None of them had ever been on a plane before. Cal stifled a laugh. She gazed back out the window and found to her surprise the scenery going by shockingly fast. The airplane picked up speed. Cal looked out in amazement as she saw the wheels start to leave the ground. She squeezed her eyes tightly and covered her face with her hands.
It was Jen who gently pulled her hands away from her face and motioned for her to look out the window again. Cal noticed she had a much more relaxed expression. Slowly Cal turned to the window again. Her mouth dropped open in amazement.
The plane had already reached an astonishing height. Cal could see the clouds below them and around them. Through small patches between the clouds Cal could see the land far below them: Great vast stretches of different shades of green and brown. Then there was a city with seemingly ant-sized cars and buildings. Cal felt that she could just reach her hands down and pick up the teeny toy-sized structures.
To Cal it seemed days before they let her unbuckle her seatbelt and walk around the plane. She marched over to the couches. “Why are these here?” she asked a passing flight attendant. “Aren’t there supposed to be more seats?” The flight attendant looked quite taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry miss. Perhaps the cushions need to be fluffed for you?” She said worriedly. “Oh no, really they’re fine! I mean, just, well, I’ve never been on an airplane before, let alone a ‘private jet.’” The flight attendant looked very much relieved. “Well, then, you may have a seat. I’ll bring you some refreshments.” She left Cal. Cal gingerly touched the velvety couches, as if she suspected that they would jump out at her if she dared to even look at them. She daintily sat down and leaned back. Wow. ‘Miss.’ Cal had never been called a formal name like that. She side long glanced at her father and Jen and saw them snoring happily together. No sooner had Cal closed her eyes too when the flight attendant came back with the promised refreshments. “For you, miss?” she asked, setting the tray on the coffee table in front of Cal. “Uh, thank you very much.” Answered Cal awkwardly. She looked at the tray approvingly. There was a small fruit salad, a glass of water, and some peanuts. Cal ate hungrily.

When Cal stepped off the plane she nearly fell over, but was caught in the sturdy arms of her father. Her legs were still shaky from the ride when she was escorted to a taxi. The three of them climbed inside. Cal was tired from the long flight from their home in New York to here in California, but she was still awe-inspired at all the sights. When they were nearing their stop Jen pointed out the window to a hill on their right. Planted in big bold white letters was the word, ‘Hollywood.’
Cal met a man who claimed his name was, ‘Mr. Martini.’ He told Cal that he was a very famous Hollywood producer and that he could make her a star on Broadway. Cal was starting to think that all this ‘Hollywood’ stuff was pretty phony when Mr. Martini announced that he would show her where she, her father and Jen would stay. The taxi driver had driven them to a large hotel, extremely fancy. Cal’s father had looked worried until Cal reminded him that all expenses were to be paid for them. They had met Mr. Martini in the lobby which had marble floors and beautifully glass stained windows. The ceiling was decorated with different patterns of gold tiles. He led them up a winding staircase and down a long red carpeted hall until he came to a pair of double doors. Opening one of them he escorted them into the room.
Cal found herself standing in a small parlor, with blue couches on each side of the room and a table with a vase of gorgeous water lilies in the center. There were three doors: a room for Jen, a room for Cal’s dad, and a room for Cal Mr. Martini explained. Cal ventured inside her room when Mr. Martini had left and gasped in wonder. A double bed was laid out majestically before her, a curtain of shiny silver enclosing the actual bed. There was a small desk set against the wall with a vase of roses on top of it. A large gold framed mirror was set against the wall above the desk. Cal peered into it, and saw a shabby girl of 12 wearing dull makeup stare back at her. She turned away from the mirror and stared out a pair of glass doors leading to the balcony outside. In the balcony Cal stared down upon the streets of Los Angelos. “Pretty nice, ain’t it?” Jen spoke suddenly behind her. Cal spun around. “Yeah, yeah, pretty, nice.” Cal replied. Pretty nice indeed! Cal thought to herself as she looked up at Jen. “This is amazing.” She said aloud. “The view, the bed, everything. This is even better than I dreamed!” “And it can be hard to top that, can’t it? Come on, Mr. Martini was just up here to tell us that dinner was ready but to come down when we felt like it. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Without another word Cal followed Jen and her father back down the hallway to find Mr. Martini waiting for them. “Well, let’s go eat, shall we?” He said, escorting them through another maze of hallways to the dining room. “Cheers to Calain’s arrival!” said Mr. Martini to a group of people already sitting on silk chairs in the dining hall. “Cheers!” cried the crowd.
It seemed to Cal that a week went by but it was hard to keep track of time with such splendor around her. The next morning Mr. Martini took the three of them on a tour of the city, visiting many famous places unknown to any of them. They rode in a limo, which was Cal’s favorite part, being able to stand up in the moon roof. Her father and Jen preferred to stay inside.
On after noon when Cal was resting in her bed Mr. Martini came up to talk to her. His face was extremely solemn. Cal could only guess that he had come at last to speak to her about performing business. “Cal,” he said as he entered her room, “I think the time has come to finally set down what your really here for.” Cal sighed. Oh great. Here comes the big speech. “Well, you came here for a reason, did you not?” He didn’t expect an answer and Cal knew it. “So, I’m going to suggest this to you, and we can discuss it later.” From the tone of his voice it didn’t sound to Cal like he really wanted to discuss it any further. “Here’s my plan: you will join Hollywood in Broadway. You’ll learn new routines, and will perform in front of millions of people.” Cal squelched an audible gulp. “Your trainer will be Jen, since it seems you too can work together well. You’ll perform far and wide: at concerts, in musicals, and just on your own.” Cal was happy at the idea of performing once again with Jen. “You will get paid too, and depending on how popular you get,” Cal could see that he expected her to be very popular. “the more money you’ll be paid. Got it?” Cal nodded yes. “So, I’m performing with Jen. Am I still on the same schedule, once a week?” Cal asked boldly. “No, no, no I’m afraid not. You’ll be performing whenever a chance comes up. From the talent that you’ve got I guess that you’ll have your own show in about two weeks.” Cal furrowed her brow in thought. “Sounds good to me. When’s my first performance?” Cal said finally. “Next Tuesday, at Catherine Zeta Jones’ showing. You’ll be the pre-show.” Cal liked the sound of that. “Ok. Got it.” She waited awhile. “Um, are you going to go now?” she asked. “Yes. I will go now.” He said with a smile. “Just call if you need me.” As he reached the bed room door Cal called to him. “Do you mean the Catherine Zeta Jones?” He turned and smiled. “Yes, the Catherine Zeta Jones. Goodbye now.” “See ya.” Cal collapsed on her bed. Wow. She, Calain Elentine was going to be the pre-show for the Catherine Zeta Jones. With that happy thought she snuggled under the covers over her bed and fell asleep.

Two days before Cal’s first performance a meeting was held in the lobby. Cal and Jen and her father were there, along with Mr. Martini and some other important-looking men. It was discussed and thought and planned how the concert would go; they asked Jen to explain Cal’s whole routine; they asked her repeated questions about how long it was and whether it would cut into Catherine’s show time. Cal was of no importance for the moment, and for a while she just gazed at the ceiling, wondering how in the world they were able to place those tiles so perfectly. She was brought back to reality with a thump when she felt Jen shaking her shoulder. Mr. Martini was saying, “And so we have almost come to a close with this meeting. There is still one question: What shall the child wear?” There was murmoring from the crowd. Mr. Martini turned to look at Cal. “What would you like to wear, Cal?” There were surprised gasps from the audience members and everyone turned to look at little shabby Cal. “I dun no, sir. I mean, when I performed back home, I just wore my everyday clothes. I-I guess that won’t do here.” Cal said shamefully. The men whispered to each other as if it were a very sad thing that the only thing she wore at her earlier performances were tattered garments. Mr. Martini thought a moment, and then said, “I believe there are some child’s performing outfits in the closet to the main hall. Cal, would you like to go and pick out an outfit for the occasion?” Cal sprang up, delighted with the fact that she would be getting new clothes. Mr. Martini led her to a rather large hall closet, which, when he opened the doors for her, was filled with tons of different colored child’s dresses and costumes. He pulled out a rack for her. There were long dresses and skimpy dresses; there were tops and skirts, pants and bow ties. Finally after much thought Cal picked out a nice outfit, which fit her perfectly: A pair of sparkling red pants, with funky frills at the feet, and a top to match, sparkled over with sequins. Cal’s favorite part was the sleeves of the shirt. One arm was cut so that she had a long sleeve but the other side had been completely cut off, so she only had one sleeve and a skin-colored strap on the other side holding the shirt up. Jen approved; Cal’s long brunet hair and her glittering blue eyes definitely went with the sparkly red outfit. When Cal went to bed that night she hardly slept a wink and instead just stared at her beautiful new outfit.
The next day passed swiftly by; Cal ran through her routine one last time with her outfit on; she got to spend time with her dad just talking and laughing about the future. Finally the morning for Cal’s performance arrived with much anticipation.
Cal awoke to a chorus of birds from outside her balcony. Yawning she slipped out of her bed and stepped out onto the balcony to greet the morning. “Hello, morning!” she yelled. She whistled downstairs where breakfast awaited her. She had just finished her breakfast when Jen and her father arrived. “Hey Cal! Today’s the big day!” Jen called to her as she picked up herself some food from the buffet table. Her father greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. “Yep! And I’m ready! L.A. Hollywood here I come!” she answered Jen. Cal left her dishes for the maids to clean up and headed back upstairs to catch up the sleep she had missed the night before.
It seemed a few seconds before she was awakened rudely by Mr. Martini. “Cal, wake up. Its three hours before you go on so we better get going to the Arena.” Cal groaned and turned over in her covers. “Cal get up out of those covers right now or you’ll be late!” Cal heard a different voice yell at her. She sat up straight in bed in surprise. Jen was standing there with Mr. Martini looking very satisfied with herself. Mr. Martini left the room for Cal to dress. Before he left he shot Jen a ‘thank you’ smile. Jen returned a ‘your welcome.’
Cal dressed hurriedly. A bunch of make-up artists were sent up to Cal’s room to do her make-up. Cal was harassed with pink powder, ruby-red lipstick, frightening mascara, loads of glitter, and heaps of eye shadow. Through it all Cal was impressed that she had survived. She surveyed herself in the mirror and was pleased to see how she looked. The blush had brightened up her cheeks a lot, which added to the excitement in her dazzling blue eyes. The heaps of pink eye shadow actually looked good on her, going well with the red lipstick that covered her neat, thin lips. No sooner had she judged herself than four ladies rushed into the room with curling irons, hair brushes, hair spray, and some other hair products that Cal could not name. They pulled and twisted and yanked until Cal thought her hair was going to rip out. When they were finished they stepped back and Cal stared into mirror. A totally new Cal had emerged; a highly energetic, full of smile girl had taken the place of the old, shabby Cal. The ladies had twisted her hair into a half pony tail, and they had curled the ends of her hair. Cal bangs had been curled also. When she appeared at the top of the steps she saw Mr. Martini, Jen, and her father all looking expectantly at her. Jen and her father stood and gaped at the changed Cal but Mr. Martini only watched for a moment before coming to his senses. “Ready Cal?” He said, escorting her to the limo waiting outside. “You betcha’.” Cal answered. Cal was smiling bigger than she ever had. The three of them climbed into the limo, and Cal headed to her first amazing performance.

Cal stood on stage dazzled by the bright lights. She looked out upon all the upturned expectant faces watching her. She realized she couldn’t just stand there stupidly. She had to do her routine! Slowly, but gradually becoming more assure of herself, Cal started with the music singing. An old recollection of her first performance on the streets flashed before her mind. She moved her arms and danced gracefully to the music. Cal had loved this song as soon as she heard it. It started out soft and slow, but soon turned fast and energetic. Cal paused dramatically. The music changed tempo. She turned a back flip effortlessly. Wild cheers from the crowd. Cal smiled and sang full out. Each face in turn was bewildered. Was this the little girl they had heard about performing on the streets? Never before had the audience experienced anything like Cal’s performance that night. The song soon came to a close. Cal took her bow and walked off stage. She was embraced and hugged again and again by her father and Jen. Many of the crew members shook her hand telling her what a great job she had done. Cal was so surprised at all these wonderful comments about her from all these important people, that all she could say was, “Yes, yes, thank you. You too. Yes yes…”

Cal became very famous after that first night. Mr. Martini had predicted that Cal would have her own show in two weeks, but he was wrong. A week after Cal’s first performance, a very rich Broadway company, (the same company Catherine Zeta Jones worked for) asked Cal to join them and perform for them. She accepted the job. Little Calain Elentine had become the littlest big star ever to hit Hollywood. Cal soon fell in love with performing and its ways. She was soon swept up into business that Jen disapproved of. Cal traveled all over the country wearing her cute red outfit, and many others. She got used to all the wonder and glory she was getting. Jen constantly worried Cal was getting too far into her fame and that something tragic would happen that would spoil Cal forever. Jen never dreamed what happened would happen to Cal.

Eight years had passed since Cal’s big night; eight long and beautiful glorious years of performing. Cal was turning a gorgeous twenty-and a gorgeous twenty she was too. She had trimmed her hair so that it stayed its waist length. Her body had grown much; she was no longer the cute sassy little twelve years old nor the energetic adorable six years old she had been. She was now a young adult with flowing brunet hair and shining blue eyes that still bore the youth of her childhood. Now as she stood standing on the balcony of her bedroom in the magnificent hotel she had been brought to years before, Jen peaked in to say goodnight. Cal was staring at the fading sunset, probably lost again in her fanciful dreams, Jen thought. She looked over Cal suspiciously. She was quite attractive, Jen thought at last. “Cal,” she whispered. Cal looked up from her place at the balcony to meet Jen’s dark hazel eyes. “Oh Jen, its you. I thought that it was Mr. Martini.” Cal came inside and sat on her bed. “You know what you need, Cal?” Jen said. “What?” answered Cal looking up. “Go take a walk. Get some fresh air.” “Your right. I will.” Cal said. She slipped on a jacket lying across her desk and stepped out the door. Jen watched her go and then retreated to her own room.
Outside Cal in her warm coat walked around the block to a Mexican shop where she had met a girl named Christina. Christina and Cal were good friends now, and sometimes they met at the shop. Cal hoped to see her there; to talk to her. As she made her way down to the shop, Cal looked up at the hotel’s windows and saw a dark figure watching her. Cal rubber her eyes but he vanished out of sight. Thinking she had been dreaming she stopped staring and continued her walk. When Cal arrived at the shop all the lights were on, but Christina was wasn’t there. Instead there was a tall skinny boy of about fourteen behind the counter. “Hi. I’m Christina’s friend, Cal. Is Christina here?” she asked. The boy shook his head no. “But I’ve heard of you. Come help yourself to some burritos.” Cal saw that the boy had a Mexican accent. She followed him to the back of the kitchen. “I will be in there.” He pointed to a small door saying, ‘Kitchen.’ “Here are some ingredients. You can make it yourself.” He handed her a few torilltas, salsa, beans, and grated cheese. He disappeared behind the door. Cal made herself a burrito. As she began to take the first bite, she heard a shrill scream and the sound of broken glass, then silence. Scared, Cal headed toward where she thought the scream had come from-the kitchen. She opened the door and gasped. Instinctively she ran to the phone and called 911. Then she went back to the kitchen. There lying on the floor was the unmistakable body of the skinny boy who had got her the burrito. He was laying face first into the floor, his hands tied behind his back. His mouth was gagged. There was a hole in his back where a knife had stabbed him. The knife was lying on the floor next to him. Cal touched his hand which was stained with blood. It was freezing cold. She looked at her hand and saw that some of the blood was on her. What happened next is still blurred in her memory. The police broke in, not being able to come through the locked door. Cal was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The police stared first at the dead body, at Cal’s bloody hands, and then the knife that Cal had been examining for some kind of clue to who the killer might be. Cal was arrested for murder on the spot.
Cal was scheduled to have a trial in front of the judge and her lawyer in two days. During that time she was stuck in a teeny cell with rats scurrying along the floor and a cold, wet bench to sleep on. Cal was miserable. If Cal had been the little poor girl she had been this would have had no effect on her. As it was, however, Cal had gotten used to the city life, being popular and bombarded by cameras. The fact was that even while Cal was in prison, reporters were everywhere, still taking her picture and asking questions. The only difference was, it wasn’t because of her glory the reporters were there.

Two days later Cal appeared before the judge, her hair dirty and tangled, and circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.
“Calain Elbereth. You are accused of murder of…” The judge shuffled through some papers on the surface before her. “Ah yes, John Makabee. Do you deny being accused?” Cal shook her head solemnly. “Well then, your jury shall be selected during the course of the next two days. They will be a random pick of 12 people in the country.” The judge sounded as if she had memorized her lines and was tired of repeating them. The judge motioned for Cal to go and Cal was led back to her cell with her lawyer trailing behind her.
The trial began once the jury was selected in the, as aforesaid, two days the judge was given. Cal was dressed properly for the occasion, her hair washed and neatly combed, her face scrubbed. She sat beside her lawyer stiffly. She didn’t dare turn around to face the crowd of citizens because she feared that if she saw Jen and her father with the “What happened to my little girl” face she would break down and cry.
“Order! Order!” the judge yelled, banging her wooden gavel against the podium.
“Will the Bailiff proceed?” the judge said in a much softer tone. The Bailiff swiftly scurried over to Cal’s seat and motioned for her to put her hand on The Bible that he held out in front of him.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you god?”
“I do.” Cal answered the Bailiff feebly. She sat down in a chair beside the judge.
“We will now let the offence speak against Calain Elbereth.”
There were two tables set up on opposite sides of the room. On the right side sat her lawyer. He had a big red face and broad shoulders. His suit barely covered his enormous body. On the left side a tall thin man with snow white hair and gleaming green eyes marched up to her.
“Calain. Cal. Did you not perform on the streets before you came here? In, let me see, New York City?”
“That is true.” You stupid white headed freak. Cal thought.
“Very good, very good.” His green eyes gleamed more than ever. Cal thought that if they gleamed any more they would burst out of his head.
“Did you not meet Christina at that very Mexican shop?”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
“And tell me, Cal, did you ever meet her brother, John Makabee?”
“Yes. She introduced me to him the night I met her.”
“What did you think of him?”
Cal was stunned at this last question. What did she think of Christina’s brother? She had only known him briefly, but by the tone in the lawyer’s voice he expected her to answer more than just he was a friend. Cal was determined not to be pushed by that.
“Well, he was very nice, and kind, but very shy.”
“Cal can you prove that this picture isn’t true?” The lawyer held up a picture of a girl with long brunet hair kissing Christina’s brother. Someone stood up in the audience.
“That’s not Cal!” Cal looked over in shock to see Christina standing there.
“Check the date!” she yelled.
The lawyer looked shocked as well and meekly checked the date. “August 24, 1956.” He said in a whisper.
“Aha! My brother was dating a girl with hair just like Cal’s before Cal was even born. So the girl in that picture couldn’t be Cal!”
“Silence!” the judge roared. Christina sat down in her seat. The lawyer slowly retreated back to his table. Obviously he had been depending on that picture as evidence leading to the fact that Cal had indeed killed Christina’s brother.
“Is the offence finished?” the judge asked, not expecting an answer.
“Then will the defense carry on?”
Cal’s lawyer got up from his seat with some trouble and confronted Cal. He asked her many questions. Well he does have some brains after all. Cal thought. Her lawyer sat back down at his table when he was done.
“We will see all of you over the next 3 months. This court is adjourned.”

The next three months were brutal after that. The attorney’s it seemed were able to find plenty of things to argue about. They would even blame each other for things that had no connection with the purpose of the trial at all. It seemed as if gleam-eyes (as Cal liked to call him) had no other better evidence than the picture he had brought. Cal’s lawyer was doing very well, however, even though he never came up with any evidence. Cal guessed that they probably knew each other in elementary school because they kept accusing each other of different situations in their school where one of them was lying. Cal scarcely remembered any of those 3 months until the day of the last trial.
“This will be our last day together and hence the jury will decide if Cal is innocent or guilty.” The judge said the word as if it were a heavy stone no one could ever pick up and move. Cal had woken that morning in dismay; the sun had been shining cheerfully, the birds singing, the sky a swirl of azure. Cal took it as a bad omen.
As usual, the attorney’s argued back and forth, ever blaming each other for lying on their elementary school playground. Cal sighed and rested her chin in her hands.
Sometime around noon or so the judge called order and the jury went filing into a back room where they were to make their final decision. Cal felt her hands sweating like mad and her whole body turn cold. Perspiration dotted her forehead. This is it. She thought unhappily. I might spend my last few minutes of my life hanging with my neck around a rope. But that brought tears to her eyes, so she pushed the thought away. She looked at the clock. It seemed as though time had stopped. The second hand ticked away slowly. The whole city was watching her, Cal.
Then suddenly Cal saw a flash back of her mother, performing, becoming famous, then being pregnant and rushed to the hospital. Then there was a scream, and Cal realized that now she was in the memory of her mother’s death. She realized that she was screaming as she held her mother’s cold hand. That was how her mother’s fame had ended. This was how Cal’s was going to end too.
The jury came out of the room. They sat down. It seemed that they were moving in slow motion. Cal pressed her hands together and realized she was shaking.
The judge spoke. “The jury had returned. How do you find Calain Elbereth?”
One of the people sitting amongst the jury stood up. “After listening to months of arguments, we hereby state that we find Cal innocent.”
Cal barely heard the word when it dropped out of his mouth. Innocent! What did that mean? Cal’s mind was dizzy as she rested her head on her arms.
“Very well then. Research will begin immediately on who did kill John Makabee. Cal, you may report home. This court is adjourned.”
Jen, Cal’s father and Christina all rushed to her at once and squeezed her tightly. “I knew you didn’t do it.” Christina whispered in her ear.

News got out the Cal had been proven innocent. But as joyful as she was, the shock of her being arrested never wore off her many fans. Cal was hardly trusted to be in her hotel room alone. In this way Cal’s popularity wore off. Less and less fans came to her concerts. One evening Cal sat on her bed when Jen came in.
“Jen, why doesn’t anyone trust me? Why can’t people put what happened behind them and carry on?” she said without turning her head.
“I warned you of this before. Every performer’s fame comes and goes. Yours went to the highest climax, and went down suddenly. Too suddenly for you.” Jen sat beside her. “You are just like your mother. She always got too comfortable with the fame she was getting, and then when she didn’t get any she was shocked and angry and scared and sad all at the same time.”
Cal looked up at her. “I don’t understand it. Right now I’m in the same position I was eight years ago. Un-loved, not popular, not famous, and yet I yearn for the fame I once had. Why can’t I just become that same star? Or else become the girl I once was?” “Because your time is up.” Jen answered. “You had eight years of fame, eight years of splendid surprises, eight years of performing. And now this is where you stop. This is where you have to find that poor little girl inside you. Every famous person in history had his or her's up and downs. I must say though, your climax went much longer than I expected.” Jen turned away and sighed looking out the window. Cal stared into Jen’s hazel eyes. “There’s something troubling you. What is it?” Jen looked away. “Cal, it’s your father. He’s really not feeling well.” Cal was shocked. “What’s wrong with him?” Cal cried. Jen kept her face calm and showing no emotion. “Calm down Cal. He just caught a cold last night we were out in the Mexican shop and-well, he hasn’t recovered since.” “Is he ever going to recover? He’s going to die isn’t he! Isn’t he? Don’t hide it Jen it just makes it worse!” Cal screamed and buried her face in Jen’s lap. “Shhh……there now Cal. It’s alright. He has plenty of time left. Tomorrow we’ll take him to the hospital and see what they can do.”
Accordingly Cal and Jen took Cal’s father to the hospital the next day. He was examined and x-rays were taken. Cal and Jen waited in the lobby. A nurse came out and motioned for them to come see him. Solemnly the girls followed the nurse down a maze of halls to his room. When they came to his bedside he had tubes up his nose and planted in his arm. “Hi, daddy.” Cal said. Slowly he turned his head. “Hey Cally-girl.” He said in a hoarse whisper. “Just a little cold. I’ll be alright.” Cal shook her head vigorously. She laid her head against his arm. “Can I tell you a secret?” He said. “Yea.” Cal said holding back the tears that were coming. “I love you. I love you a lot. You must know that. Keep on performing. For your mother. For me.”

Cal’s father died at age fifty. An early death later discovered that it was caused by the smoking he had done as a kid. Cal wept bitterly the night he died but showed nothing at his funeral. For several days Cal hardly ate anything, suffering greatly from the loss of both her parents. Later Cal did what her father told her: she kept performing, even though her crowds were less. She kept performing until her business ran out of money and they kicked Jen and Cal out. Together they continued what Cal had started fourteen years ago: performances on the streets. The only difference was that Cal didn’t perform now for money; she performed for the sheer joy of dancing, singing, and doing gymnastics in front of people. Cal and Jen never again returned to Cal’s famous Broadway business, but they did return home where they were welcomed by Cal’s fans when she performed there before.
One dark evening many years since Cal had returned home Cal rested on the mattress where she and her father had slept together once. Jen sat at his desk sewing a quilt. “Jen.” Cal said softly. She stopped and looked down at Cal’s serious face. “Yes dear?” She said. Cal glanced at the wisps of gray hair around Jen’s face. “I believe that I should go. Somewhere. I don’t know where, but I think I should go.” Jen looked equally serious, and if she was surprised at all from Cal’s strange comment then she didn’t show it. “You’re right. You are growing older. People will miss your talent. As a fact I’ll miss it. And you. But I think your right. It’s time to take your life out of New York or Hollywood and go settle down. Are you leaving now?” Jen asked. Cal could see a small tear in her eye. “Yes. I have packed and have everything ready. I love you, Jen.” Cal stood, and stooped over to give Jen a kiss. Cal scooped up some bags she had packed the night before. “Jen, please teach that little girl around the corner. She’s a real sweet little thing, and her family’s poor. Help her out. For my mom. For my dad. For me.” Were Cal’s last words to Jen as she headed out the door and into the night.

Little Calain the performing girl wasn’t ever seen again. But in some places, far from Cal’s little neighborhood in New York people saw her and wondered if that was the same girl they had heard about in the newspapers; the girl who had worked so hard to make money for her family and ended up becoming famous. Jen did as Cal bided, and soon the little girl around the corner was prancing about the streets, singing as sweetly as Cal and dancing to some of Cal’s old music tapes. It could be said that Cal’s father and mother smiled in their graves for they knew their daughter had fulfilled her and their dream.

“Not all who wander are lost.” –J.R.R. Tolkien

Note from the author:
To anyone who has little or no imagination, the title of this story connects with Cal and her adventures. She was very poor, and so by performing, ‘a fire was woken.’ The title of this story is one of many verses written by J.R.R. Tolkien.