Read Dead Stars Online

Authors: Bruce Wagner

Dead Stars (22 page)

 

send Telma for a sleepover at her grandma's. Of course not telling the grandma/her mother, telling her mother instead that a friend of hers had an emergency, her friend from Ojai, which friend asked her mother, what do you mean which friend, my friend from Ojai, my Ojai friend said Gwen, & I may be out of touch for a few days. It's an emergency, a family emergency, no she's fine, yes, it's marital trouble, yes, no I'll be fine. She took three 100-mg pills from an old bottle of Seroquel. She hadn't walloped herself w/Seroquel since the early days of Telma's surgery/recovery. She slept 16 hours & upon awakening, was curious to note she had no recollection of how she got home from that nightmare meeting.

It took her a while to replay the Century City horror film, which she did for about an hour, & then the phone rang.

If it was Dr. Bessowichte, she was going to hang up.

If it was a wrong #, she was going to blurt it all out.

If it was Mom, she was going to ask her to keep Telma another day. She wouldn't tell her what was going on, wouldn't even tell Phoebe, not yet. (Maybe Phoebe.) (But not yet.) She wouldn't tell anyone, how could she? She wasn't even sure she'd told herself.

“May I speak to Ms. Ballendyne?”

If it was Jenny Craig, she was going to blurt it all out. If it was Mary Kay, she was going to blurt it all out. If it was ProActiv, she was going to blurt it all out.

“This is she.”

“Great! I'm Beth, Ryan Murphy's assistant, and the reason I'm calling is that Ryan wanted to know if you and your daughter would enjoy being
VIP guests
for a taping of the show! He's heard
so much
about Telma—from
Michael Douglas—
and is
very
excited to meet her.”

Enjoy. Being VIPs. Yes we would.

“Thank you. Yes.”

“Great! And I know that Ryan wanted to make sure both of you came for lunch with the cast and crew! Are there any days that are better for you than others?”

CLEAN

[Telma]

Brittelma

She

started “journaling” (the word that her therapists used) a few years before she got cancer. Telma wrote all thru pre- & post-surgical times, darkest times, and was determined to publish an edited version one day called
Diary of A Kancer Kid
. Everyone on the ped/oink ward kept journals, the on-ward psychologists encouraged them to write down their hopes & dreams, their fears & affirmations. Some of the pages of her notebooks were crinkly from dried tears—she hoped when it got published, a photo of one of those pages could be included. She knew it would be a bestseller, & was currently mad at herself for dropping the ball. It was too late to go on Oprah anymore.

When Telma got diagnosed, Phoebe, her outside shrink, asked her to pick a magic number. (Phoebe as opposed to Samuel, her ward shrink. She loved Samuel but loved Phoebe more.) When Telma picked 16—which was perfect because she watched
My Super Sweet 16
marathons on the weekends & was currently obsessing about her own Super Sweet 16 to come—Phoebe said to write an affirmation 16 times a day, and to go ahead & say each affirmation
outloud
32 times a day, for good measure. Phoebe told her to pick a few, and write them down, but
not
say them outloud, to keep the affirmation a secret so it didn't lose its power, Super Sweet 16 Secret power affirmations were FOR TELMA ONLY, Telma and her diary, she wasn't even supposed to tell Phoebe. She wrote
KANCER-FREE
16 times &
HERVIVOR!!!
16 times (shouting them aloud as well) & wrote
VICTIM VICTIM VICTIM
(as in, NOT) 16 times (shouting
“NOT
a victim!
NOT
a victim!”), she wacky-scrawled affirmations & fancy penmanshipped declarations to the world 16 times a day, every morning, afternoon & evening, and sometimes even before going to bed at night. That's why she was in the middle of Journal #21, and the notebooks weren't thin either, they were thick, & lined.

Telma wrote about her dreams and her pets—like her fish Goldie & her parrot Mighty Man, & Sir Vivor, the cantankerous terrier, a tire-chaser who lost a leg as a result of his passion. Depending on what side of the bed he woke up on, Sir Vivor would accompany her on St. Ambrose “rounds.” (When the fellow was obstreperous she had to leave him home because the hospital said there were liability issues if he bit a nurse or even one of the kids.) She wrote about her crushes too—currently, Biggie was looming
large,
though as yet had only bashfully been apportioned a few lines—and poems & little stories/lyrics of songs (with affirmations in-between), and
original
songs too.

She wrote down her
Glee
fantasy, & didn't show it to her mom. She wasn't even going to share it with Phoebe (not yet), so it wouldn't lose its power:

 

When we arrive, the Oscar Awardwinning Mr. MICHAEL DOUGLAS is waving, he's been waiting for me and my mom at the 20th-Century Fox Studio gate, which happens by an unusal twisting of fate to be only a few miles from where we make our home in Cheviot Hills. MICHAEL DOUGLAS is sitting looking very handsome with that winning rogueish smile in one of those golfcarts with a canopey & wants me to come with him. Which of course I really do & yet I do not wish to be rude & leave my mom all alone there, but then my mom said to Mr. Douglas, “Why of COURSE she may go with you, let me simply park our car & meet you both ‘on set.'” And off we go!!!

Weaving throughout the backlot streets (NOT “of San Francisco”!) The golfcart happens to have a bag of In-and-Out burgers fries & milkshakes that MICHAEL DOUGLAS has so kindly arranged to be on a nice tray and ready for consumptchion. “Dr. House,” from the smash television show “House” waves to Michael & I as we zip past, shouting to Michael that he is a very big fan. I take this oportunity to wave back, & I can distinctly over-hear Dr. House whisper to someone next to him, “I do not know who she is, but I can simply tell you that I know she will one day be a huge star.” It is only then that Michael informs me as we zip away that the gentleman Dr. House was whispering to was none other than Mr. Simon Cowell. Simon replies, “Yes, I don't know her name, but I saw her sing and dance to ‘(All the) Single Ladies' at a Kids With Kancer benefit—and you are right she was wonderful. I wonder how we may get in touch with her, and if she currently has an agent or manager?” To which Dr. House replies, “I believe they are headed for the GLEE stage, it should be later easy enough to find out.”

All the people are waving as we continue on our way, everyone from janitors and guards to show biz superstars, it is just like being in a magical dream. But instead of driving to the set, Michael stops the golfcart in front of a big building. He steps off, extended an arm like a True Gentleman, or just like a knight would to a millady. We enter the glass building & a guard waves us through with a smile, saying, “I know who you are!” The elevator WHOOSHES us to the offices of Ryan Murphy, Creator. He is so very nice, & takes my hand like a knight would a millady's, and falls down on one knee and bows. We are corjually invited to a huge room where all of the doctors and nurses who ever took care of me are waiting.

Ryan said, “Telma, when Michael told me about you, I YouTubed your performance of ‘(All the) Single Ladies' in Kentucky and it was simply and utterly amazing. Perhaps you have heard that some viewers have been very upset that we did not hire a True handicapped person to play Artie because Artie is played by Kevin McHale an actor who just pretends to need a wheelchair. As opposed to the viewers liking very much that Coach Sue's niece was a real Down's Syndrome mongol. The viewers enjoyed that Glee had a cast member who did represent a pairaplegic boy (Artie), but now that the show is such a HUGE success (even tho it is now starting to die, & I know that you will help the show to continue to LIVE) & reaches—reaches out—to so many people, helping to raise awareness for so many causes not the least of which is tolerance toward the very fat and ugly, and all gays, well, this legitamate issue of our viewers has been keeping me awake at night. If I may say I had been hoping that THE GLEE PROJECT would have yeilded a True Handicapped type but a lass, it did not. I ask myself, ‘Why should we have to pretend?' And that was precisely when I got the call from Michael asking if I would meet you. And I said, you know, this is absolutely amazing, it was like God put you right there in front of me! God said, ‘Ryan, you don't have to pretend anymore. (God the creator told RYAN THE CREATOR!!!!) I have brought you a girl who's a genuine hero. She's not pretending. She has been through Hell—the h-e-l-l of pediatric kancer—and come out the other side to be a CNN hero & example of courage not only to other kancer kids but to their parents & anyone struggling with disease and diversity.'
[she did some cribbing from the introduction they gave her when she spoke at a Young Heroes Brunch in La Jolla]
So here is what I have done, & I have received the full permission & backing of all of the studio bosses. It is, as they say in the Business, a ‘green light.' I have written a character, just for you. & I hope you don't mind but I've called her Telma!”

Now comes the part where all of us walked—a whole mob!—to the GLEE soundstage, and it is incredibly dreamlike and like a dream. When we enter, it seems like the soundstage is a DARK MAZE but we keep walking, one of my hands is in that of MICHAEL DOUGLAS, the other hand is in that of RYAN THE CREATOR, I am in-between them and following them as if it is a dark, dark jungle, and when finally we emerge into the cave of the GLEE club set, all heads & eyes turn, and the creator Ryan is instantly applauded, which is what happened ANY time he danes come to set, because without RYAN THE CREATOR they would all be nothing.

And now, he stands in their midst quieting them.

“Guys and dolls,” he says, “I would like you to meet someone VERY special, someone I have been TELLING you about for at least 2 weeks, ever since the Academy Awardwinning actor MICHAEL DOUGLAS informed me of her by email, Twitter, Skype & the telephone. She is 4 foot ten & a real hero. She happens to be, currently, the OFFICIALLY youngest known SURVIVOR of breast kancer in the United States and the world. Please give it up for the latest addition to the GLEE club: Telma Belle Ballendyne!

      {and then the applause, not just from Tina & Rachel & Finn & Kurt & Brittana, Artie & Becky the mongol, Blaine & Quinn & Will & Mercedes, Santana Puck Coach Shannon & Chord Overstreet and The GLEE PROJECT Damian Samuel Lindsay & Alex, and Oscarwinning GWYNETH PALTROW & Mr. John Stamos & too many to mention but all of the little people who cook the food for the craft service and do the makeup and camerawork and build the sets and the awardwinning CHOREOGRAPHY of which much of the show's success is based on. & there is my mom standing back and smiling, she has been there all the time, and her face is wet with tears, for a minute I feel bad that I wasn't even thinking of her so swept away was I in the magic of this dream—my Mommy, who is my best friend, so kind & sweet & knowing enough to let her daughter have her as Nicki Minaj sang “moment
4
life.”
How far I—WE— have come! From kancer to GLEE, from hervivor & hero
———
hervivor Moms were heroes too
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

———then RYAN THE CREATOR is saying that he hates to tell me this without proper notice (except as it turned out, he DID already tell my mom), We are shooting your first episode as a full-time cast member of GLEE, & do you happen to know the song ‘Smile (While Your
Is Breaking?)', which of course I did so happen to, having sung it at the “Topeka Convention Center” & on “Weekend Edition” & even with Kourtney Kardashian duetting on Khloé's birthday (for which I was paid $25,000 for my services, of which 100% of said fee went straight to the Telma's Warriors Scholarship Fund), I just HAPPENED to know the song FRONTWARDS & BACK!!! I even still to this day sing myself to sleep by it—& suddenly I hear a voice, the voice of an ANGEL singing the very song & it takes me a few moments to realize. . . . The person whose voice I hear is MY OWN!!!!!!! It's ME who is singing, like a bird, without even knowing I had BEGUN.

And the beautiful set that they constructed starts to move and kind of crack open & I find myself still singing but standing upon a MOVING RUNWAY, and yet still never do I break my singing stride. . . . & I am dancing too!!! (I catch sight of myself in a mirror and magically, I am of a sudden in the MOST beautiful tuxedo, and I am wearing a derby and carrying a long black Kane . . . . . .)

 

Smile tho yr
is aching

Smile even though it's breaking
*

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx—

 

——are those real tears? coming from amongst Awardwinning cast&camera&lighting crew? Are those real tears coming not just from my Mom, but from Academy Awardwinning MICHAEL DOUGLAS and Emmywinning CREATOR RYAN MURPHY and Academy Awardwinning GWYNETH PALTROW? All are frozen in positions and staring, at me, TELMA, (and how I am so very honored) there seems to be to my eye 100 people at least all told, Artie is standing now beside his wheelchair, having said he is embarrassed to be a pretender while the real thing, future Emmy and Oscarwinning TELMA BELLE BALLENDYNE's right there in front of him (how sweet!!!) he says outloud that it is now MY time it is now MY turn to take the throne, mettaforically to speak of, because of course I am not “handicapped” as the world considers the term to be, for example I am not wheelchair bound, but I am Kancervived, with all the Dignity, Hardships & uncertanties that go along . . . & even the Mongol seemed to grasp what was happening before hers and everyone's eyes, Becky the Down Mongol was born a hero, & standing there seems to grasp that she has already been recriuted into Telma's Troopers not RYAN THE CREATOR's. A tender button on the GLEE soldier's pea coat, the downy Mongol was a
felt punchline who would never EVER be abused by Sue Sylvester, & sweetly funny too, whether the downed Mongol could voice it or not she could SENSE and FEEL that Telma, dancing & singing before her, was the real thing, a bonafied outsider like herself, the 2 of them left Artie the pretend-cripple in the dust . . . . . .

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