It was the summer of 1969 and beautiful Annalisa just happened to be passing through St. Petersburg. She checked the billboard at the student center for a ride to California. Then she wandered into the theatre to use the restroom. After she freshened up, she stood in the wings and watched Hamlet throwing a tantrum in a graveyard.
When the scene was over, the actor playing Hamlet locked eyes with Annalisa. He came to her like a guided missile. She backed up until she felt the cool brick wall against her. He placed the palms of his hands against the wall on either side of her face and slowly leaned in until they were cheek to cheek. His voice was much deeper than the voice he had used on stage. His was a rich, hypnotic voice that demolished most women.
“I thought I told you to go to the nunnery,” Richard teased.
His charisma appeared to be working. She melted a bit, but then slipped through his arms and walked out of the back door of the theatre.
“Where are you going?” He sounded like Hamlet again.
“To the nunnery,” she said without looking back to see how he was taking it. She had a Swedish accent.
He caught up with her on the sea wall. The chase coupled with the fear of being late for his next scene overwhelmed him. The other actors spilled onto the loading dock and frantically waved for him to come inside. He dragged her back to the theatre.
“I’m taking you to dinner after the show but you’re not teetering on the seawall without a lifeguard while I’m trying to deliver lines,” he tried to regain control. This captivating stranger had effortlessly snatched his composure and left him in danger of sounding like a screech owl the rest of his performance if he didn’t get a grip.
“Watch my girl. Don’t let her near the water. Lenny, if you touch her, you’ll really be a grave man,” Richard said to the actor who played the gravedigger. He took the stage choking down gale force blasts of conflicting emotions. Lust slammed into humiliation. Pride buckled under the stress of unbearable curiosity. Anger snaked into the soup when he saw the looks he got from everyone when the words, “my girl” made his lips curl. That audience would never forget that night’s sword fight.
Afterwards the cast had an informal party at a popular late night restaurant that featured dim red lighting, fried clams and hotdogs steamed in beer.
“Check out my too much change-ed son,” the actress who played Hamlet’s mom elbowed her boyfriend.
Richard wrote some numbers on a cloth napkin and stuffed it into Annalisa’s purse.
“We’ll be in California in August. If you’re anywhere near Lake Arrowhead, well, you can come see us or I can zip over to wherever you are staying. The other number is my mom in Bakersfield. If you need anything, anything at all, call her. I’ll let her know. She has my schedule. You know how moms are,” Richard knew he was talking too much but he couldn’t risk losing contact with her. Now that she had contact information, he backed off. He reached for the pitcher and topped off their beers.
~ To Be Continued ~
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