Boulevard of dreams, p.9
Boulevard of Dreams, page 9
As Lloyd, Hudson, April, and Monica walked the edge of the theater, Relly couldn’t believe he was about to see the man from his visions. A literal dream come true. Relly took a moment to savor the scene. With time short, they still did not have a way home. Once they got inside the Lafayette, the Squad would have to be quick.
“Relly!” Hudson yelled.
“I’m coming!”
As Relly ran to catch up with his friends, he had a sense of déjà vu again. Past the front of the Lafayette Theater and around to the side of the building, the feeling intensified.
“I’ve been here before,” Relly told the Squad. The feeling hit Relly the closer he walked to the stage door.
“What!” the three other Squad members belted. A few people from the crowd turned to see where that “what” had come from.
“Wait, of course you have, Relly,” said Monica. “It’s Harlem. We’ve all been here before.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean I know I’ve been in this exact spot.” Relly racked his brain. Then the scent of cherries filled his nose. His mind went back to the shattered jar on the bodega floor.
“Nita’s!” Juanita’s Market stood in the exact same spot as the Lafayette Theater, almost seventy years in the future. The entrance to the stage door was the same as the entrance to Nita’s.
Hudson let out a long, exaggerated, “Oooohhhh.”
“What happened to it?”
“Dunno.” Relly shrugged. “Guess lots of buildings get torn down when people don’t need them anymore. Shame.”
“Hey! You kids coming?”
“Who you calling kids?” April replied.
“We’ve got plenty of time before Dad goes on. You read the sign. Bunny Briggs. Peg Leg Bates. Those two brothers. That’s three whole acts before Slyde still—time’s ticking!”
“Understatement much?” asked Hudson.
“Listen, buddy, Dad will wonder where I am. So if you want the good seats, best you follow me.” Lloyd waved them to the stage door propped open with its own doorman. As Lloyd and the Squad entered, the doorman stood up from his seat. Relly thought the doorman was on the verge of asking who they were, and why they were entering backstage. Instead, he only tipped his hat, nodded, then let the Squad in.
“See you found some friends,” the doorman said to Lloyd.
“Sure as day, Bert!”
Even inside, the density of people reminded Relly of the Squad’s own opening night. Or any show, for that matter. There was even a stage manager who tapped a button to a nearby intercom.
“Fayard Nicholas, if you’re in the building, please let me know. You’re on in ten!”
Stagehands ran back and forth. There was a rush and exhilaration in the air. Passing dressing rooms and shoe rooms and makeup rooms, even the bathrooms, the thrill of being back inside a theater came to Relly. All this for the people in the seats. All this for each dancer and actor, every singer’s dreams too. Lloyd turned to a closed door.
“Here we go.” He inhaled as he knocked four times. Each interval between knocks was a code for the person on the other side. There was silence as they waited. Seconds turned to a full minute. A full minute turned to five.
“Is anyone in there?” Monica asked.
“He’s coming,” Lloyd replied. “Slyde, also known as my dad, is a man who likes to take his time.” As they waited, Relly hadn’t noticed the name on the dressing-room door. But as Hudson scooted to the side, now Relly had a full view of the name in gold cursive.
Gregory Morton
Slyde
“Huh? That’s funny,” Relly said under his breath. “My grandpa has that same name.”
My grandpa has that same name.
Relly froze. This time it wasn’t a vision that caused him to freeze in place. Grandpa Gregory? Relly thought as adrenaline began to rush through his veins.
“Grandpa Gregory Morton?” Relly said out loud.
“Your grandpa?” Hudson asked. April and Monica turned to look. Each read the name to themselves.
“I think so,” Relly said. “I hope so. Wow, Grandpa Gregory is Slyde?” Relly crossed his fingers. Gregory Morton was the only Grandpa Relly knew. To come face-to-face with his grandfather in the past, Relly wondered if something in his own time would change. Maybe they shouldn’t see who was on the opposite side of the dressing-room door. Hadn’t Relly mentioned earlier not messing with the timeline? Surely seeing a younger version of his grandfather would compromise his future. Would Relly even exist whenever they found a way back?
Gregory “Slyde” Morton’s door clicked unlocked. The knob began to turn. “Wait!” Relly blurted out loud. The wheels in Relly’s mind kept churning. If Slyde was also Grandpa Gregory and Grandpa Gregory was also Gregory Morton, that meant Lloyd was related to Relly too.
“Dad?”
As the door cracked open, Lloyd pushed the dressing-room door forward. Then he let the Squad step inside. Gregory “Slyde” Morton stood beside the door as he lifted one leg up on a chair. He bent over with a rag in one hand, swiping left, swiping right, shining his black tap shoes. With each swipe came a dull, low squeak. As the Squad entered and Lloyd shut the door, Gregory “Slyde” Morton began on his other tap shoe.
“Lloyd Morton, I have been looking all over for you. The bathrooms, the balcony—I almost took the stage crew to look on the roof! The rooftop, Lloyd! Where in the world have you been?” The slightest bead of sweat dropped off Slyde’s nose. When it hit his left tap shoe, Slyde immediately swiped it off.
“Passing out your flyers, Dad. There’s a crowd the size of Central Park out there, you know. You have me to thank for that.” Lloyd puffed out his chest. The kid beamed.
“Ah. Always looking out for your pop. There’s not a thing you don’t think up.”
“Guess where we went, Dad!” Lloyd did not wait for Gregory “Slyde” Morton to ask. “We started in Shubert Alley. Then we went to see Ethel Merman at her show. Then we went to the Café Edison for lunch. Yummo! Then you know what we did? We took a train to Harlem. I’ve showed them all of New York City! Isn’t that neat? Isn’t that grand? Isn’t that peachy?”
“You left out that you followed us,” said April.
“Me, Lloyd, the tour guide. Me, Lloyd, the paperboy. Lloyd, the garden expert extraordinaire.”
Slyde shook his head as he gave Lloyd a pat on his back.
“You, Lloyd, the jack-of-all-trades.” Slyde turned to the four kids crowded at the dressing-room door. His eyes went from Lloyd to the kids, then back to Lloyd again. “You forgot something. When were you going to introduce me?”
“Oh yeah! These are my friends. Nifty, huh? This is Hudson, Monica, April, and Relly. Don’t they look cool?” Lloyd beamed at his new friends. Hudson rubbed his hand through his hair. He stood a little straighter at being called cool.
Slyde folded his rag into a neat square. Using his free hand, he began to shake the hands of the young Broadway stars. First he started with Hudson. Then on to April, followed by Monica. With each handshake, Slyde said, “Pleasure to meet you.” On down the line, Relly felt each nerve in his body. Each nerve connected to his soul. The closer Slyde approached, Relly’s palms were slick with sweat. Relly thought about running for the door before he shook Slyde’s hand.
This younger version of his grandfather was slim, tall, and nimble. He had a voice that sounded almost the same, but not quite exact. This Slyde’s voice didn’t crack over his words. It was not riddled with doubtful questions, either.
“Remind me your name, son.” Gregory “Slyde” Morton held out his hand.
“Relly.”
“Relly. That’s different. Fits you. Pleasure is all mine.” Their two palms lifted and joined in a shake.
To be this far away from home yet in his own neighborhood, Relly felt overwhelmed. He wanted a hug. One like the hug he had given his grandfather back home after the Tuesday evening show. One like the hug his grandfather always gave to Relly, even if he did have a complaint on his tongue. Relly took a step closer. He opened his arms and wrapped them around Gregory “Slyde” Morton. Relly squeezed tight.
“All right! Very good. All right, now.” Gregory laughed. “Man, did I need that today.”
“Why’s that, Dad?” Lloyd asked as the Squad took a seat.
“Because the gig is up.” Gregory tossed the rag into a nearby trash can. In the time the Squad had been in the room, Lloyd had already set his satchel down and laid out flyers. He thumbed through each one, counting them as Slyde let out an exhausted sigh.
“I am tired, kiddo.”
“Let it all out, Dad,” Lloyd said in reply. “That’s what you tell me to do.”
“I’m starting to think my momma was right. I should have stuck with playing the violin. You kids seem like a smart bunch. Let me clue you in. You got that venue across the street, playing rock and roll. You got some places that don’t even want me to eat with my fans on account of the color of my skin. You got competition left and right. Know the effect all that has on a performer? It wears you down. I don’t know if this industry is for me. Truth be told, I don’t even think I want to find out.” Slyde went over to a table and picked up a brush. He began to brush his hair the same way Lloyd had brushed his earlier.
The smile Gregory “Slyde” Morton had greeted the Squad with was replaced with a flat, blank line. Slyde’s demeanor dropped and deflated. It even seemed the lights in the dressing room dimmed.
“I think I know why I’m here,” Relly whispered to April, Monica, and Hudson. Slyde sat next to his son, counting flyers. “And that means I know why I saw those visions, too.”
The Squad waited for Relly to continue. He pulled off his backpack and pulled out the notebook. Relly opened it and started to write.
“In the future, our future, Grandpa was trying to get me to find a backup plan. Clearly, Grandpa Gregory, Slyde, has his own worries, and I need to get him to not give up. I need to get him to not lose sight of his dream. If Grandpa gives up now, he’ll be miserable the rest of his life. He’ll take that misery out on me and my dreams.”
“But how are you going to do that?” Hudson asked. “Remember, if you change anything, we’re kaput. Obsolete. We’ll probably be stuck in the fifties forever.”
“We’ve already changed so much, though,” Relly said. “First of all, we came here. Then we met Ethel Merman. Then we ate actual nineteen-fifties food at a café, which was tasty. Then I get to talk to my dad. My dad! If anything were to change in our future, we’ve already made it happen.”
Slyde stood and grabbed the flyers off the table. He stuffed them back in Lloyd’s satchel, messing up Lloyd’s count. The kid looked like he was about to burst out in tears until he blinked, wiped a tear from his face, got up, and followed his father. They walked to the dressing-room door.
“We’re going home. You kids feel free to see the other acts today. Heard those Nicholas Brothers sure are a sight. All jumping and jiving and that.”
“Home? You’re leaving? You have a full house. It’s packed! We saw the people. They are here for you!” Relly said.
“A packed house means you’re doing something right,” said Monica.
“Didn’t you see the other names? There are three whole acts before me. That’s who those people came to see.”
“But you can’t give up. What if you regret it in the future?” Relly asked.
Slyde shook his head as Lloyd opened the dressing-room door. “I’ll deal with it then is what,” Slyde said as he stepped out. Father and son walked out of the dressing room and up the narrow hall together. As they approached the Lafayette’s stage door, the Squad ran behind them, trying to catch up.
“You’re making a mistake!” Relly yelled. In the future, his grandfather wouldn’t just “deal with it.” But by the time the Squad reached the door, Gregory “Slyde” Morton and Lloyd were out of eyesight.
Eleven 5:00 P.M.
Three hours until Our Time
“That was not what I expected and too bad my phone’s not working. Imagine this as a post on Insta. Hashtag ‘what just happened?!’ Hashtag ‘Slyde who?’ Hashtag ‘why did he just leave?’ ” April said as they edged around the Lafayette. Relly could no longer see Lloyd and Slyde. Even though the crowd had thinned, and most people were now inside, there was still a swarm of people waiting on the sidewalk. Slyde and Lloyd could have been in the midst of that crowd, or they could have walked up any part of Seventh Avenue.
“How could we get this close? I feel like someone’s yanked a rug from under me,” Relly said as they passed a tree. Its twisted branches reminded Relly of cinnamon sticks. The way each leaf spread along the branches resembled fingertips across piano keys. Or dark green flags waving in the wind. Each leaf rustled as the Squad walked past.
“Did you think he would kick us out?”
“Slyde did not kick us out, April,” said Hudson.
“Well, that’s what it feels like. Right, guys? I’m kinda embarrassed. I’ve never had a performer quit in front of me before. We’ve come all this way to see him, right, Relly? I was looking forward to seeing him perform. You know what I heard someone say when we first walked up to this theater?” April didn’t wait for the Squad to respond. “They said, ‘Neato!’ Isn’t that a fun old-school word? Anyway, it’s neato Relly gets to see visions of people dancing. What do we get to see? Nothing. Zero. Zip. Not a thing. I wanted to see what Relly saw.”
“Neato?” asked Monica.
“I’m going to add it to my vocab.”
A slight murmur of music escaped from the theater. The music was for the other set of performers. The ones who went on before Slyde. The music crept through the front door and floated out onto the street. But there was no use in standing, waiting. For what? Slyde and Lloyd had already left for home. And Relly didn’t think home meant the apartment building on 119th Street. Had it even been built yet?
“I think we need to get to our time—no pun intended. What else is there for us to see here?” said Hudson. “We only have three hours left.” All four looked toward a nearby outdoor clock attached to the wall of a building across the street. The hands were at five after five. Relly imagined Claudia Middleton carefully opening her notebook. Carefully waiting to scribble down the exact moment Relly failed to walk through the stage door. Then he imagined his grandfather at home, on the couch. Grandpa Gregory struggled to move, and he would be using every ounce of energy to get ready to watch the Thursday evening Our Time performance. The next thought that popped into Relly’s mind was young Grandpa Gregory, at his home in this Harlem. Giving up.
“No,” said Relly. “Not yet. We can’t leave right now. I’ve seen too many of those visions so far to leave now.”
“Yeah, the three clues?” asked Monica. Relly could sense the panic pulsing through Hudson at that moment. He saw the panic at being stuck in 1958 all over Hudson’s face the longer they stayed in the fifties. But still, leaving was not the option.
“April, you were in Aladdin. How many wishes did the genie give?” Relly asked.
“Three. Duh. That’s preschool, Relly. Everyone knows that. Three wishes in Aladdin. Three acts in a play. Three primary colors. Three Stooges. Three sides to a triangle.”
“We get it!” shouted Hudson.
“She was making a point,” said Monica.
“My point is,” said Relly, “that most clues or wishes come in threes, right? So right now I have three pieces to some puzzle. I mean, come on. I saw my grandfather up on a stage dancing his heart out. Then I saw him learning how to dance from someone who was clearly an expert. Then I saw his mom telling him to quit on his own dream. And there has to be a reason for all of them. I’m missing that reason.”
The Squad took in Relly’s words. As they stood beside the tree, Relly dug in his backpack and pulled out his tap shoes. Relly kept the tap shoes inside his backpack just in case he needed to practice between shows. He held them up while he placed his palm against the tree for balance.
“You know what these mean to me? I put them on and they turn to wings. They take me across a stage, but in my head, these shoes take me anyplace I want to go. On top of Harlem, on top of my craziest dreams. But you know where else they take me? Back with my dad. When I put these on, I am always closer to him. Grandpa Gregory feels that way in his tap shoes too. In that vision with his mom, he said so. He said that when he taps, he flies. Just like me.” Relly removed his hand from the tree. He put his tap shoes back inside his backpack. “That’s why I can’t let him give up.”
“All right, all right!” said Hudson. “But six on the dot, we’re out. We can’t stay here any longer. The farther away we are from Shubert Alley and the hole we came out of, the harder it will be to get back. Plus, Selena Gomez, Relly! Selena Gomez will be on my cooking show! If I miss Our Time, what will Selena Gomez think?!”
“You said her name a dozen times,” said April.
“And I’ll say it a dozen more! Selena…” Hudson inhaled. “Gomez!” Hudson exhaled.
Relly nodded. Hudson was right. They would stay until six, which gave them less than one hour. Any longer and they would have to leave, no matter if Relly had found the answers for those visions or not.
“Who is that?” Monica asked. The Squad swiveled and aimed their sight in the direction of a shiny black Cadillac. It pulled to the curb and stopped in front of the theater. The car lights shut off and the driver door opened. Decked out in a three-piece suit and tie, the driver walked to the back door. He held out his hand for the person inside to take. Relly immediately recognized the driver as young Jimmy Onions.
“Jimmy!” the Squad shouted in unison.
“Well, young Jimmy,” said Hudson. “He can drive? Wow, things really were different in the fifties.” But the young Ethel Merman doorman in training did not respond. Instead, the person inside the car grabbed his hand. Ethel Merman slid from the back seat and stepped out of the old-school car. Her red sequined dress sparkled against the lights from the Lafayette. The people who still stood in line swiveled their heads to look.
