California Dreaming

I followed my mother, father, and older sister, Alina, into the theatre, barely being able to contain my excitement. I was only getting to attend the play because my older brother, Mikhail, was ill, I was the third oldest of ten children. At ten years of age, I was given strict instructions on how to act at the theatre, so as not to embarrass my parents. My father, Peter Romanov, worked as a machinist at one of the shipyards on the east side of New York. He and my mother, Katrina, had left Russia in 1912, the political unrest and the economy not being conducive to raising a growing family. My eldest brother was born in Russia in 1911, my sister was born two months after my parents arrived in the US. I was born in 1914, followed about every 12 to 14 months by the rest of my siblings.

Through hard work and determination, my father was able to get us out of the tenements of the lower East side, and into a small apartment. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than a lot of other immigrants were living in. Of course, mother contributed to the family by working in one of the many clothing factories in the area. My father wanted a better life for each of us, he made us practice speaking English without an accent, he didn’t want his kids “sounding Russian”. However, as I was getting older, it became clear that he was expecting his sons to follow in his footsteps and work in the shipyard and my sisters would probably be joining my mother at the clothing factory.

I wasn’t concerned about that tonight, tonight I was dressed in my best clothes and going to see a play at a real theatre. It was Christmas 1924, and we were going to watch Charles Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol”. Mother had read the book to us, so I was excited to see it come to life. This is not something that my family did with any regularity, we were only able to attend tonight because my father’s boss had given him the tickets. He had performed some extra work for him and couldn’t use the tickets. When my brother wasn’t feeling well, I had to beg my parents to allow me to take his place, promising that I would be on my best behavior.

We walked through the grand lobby, taking in the crystal chandelier that hung in the center and the large spiral staircase leading up the balcony. Father handed our tickets to the usher, and he led us to our seats. My sister and I took our seats between mother and father, I sat down in awe of the opulence of the theatre. The red velvet seats, the plush gold curtain that hid the stage, I had never seen anything so sophisticated. I sat up straight in my seat watching the other patrons take their places, feeling so grown up. I didn’t see anyone else my age in the entire room. True to my word to my parents, I hadn’t uttered a word or moved an inch since I sat down.

My eyes widened when the curtain went up, for the next two hours I was mesmerized by the actors moving across the stage. I watched as they delivered their lines flawlessly, entering and leaving the stage with such little effort. I was amazed at how well the actors brought to life the story that my mother had read to us, it was exactly as I pictured it in my mind. As soon as the first scene, including Tiny Tim and other children started, I began to fantasize about being on the stage myself. Up to this point, it had never occurred to me that there would be a need for child actors. I imagined myself playing Tiny Tim, I knew I could deliver those lines just as well as the youngster on stage, if not better. I was hooked, I wanted to be on that stage, any stage for that matter. I think I was the first to start to applaud as the final curtain fell, and the first to stand when it rose again with the entire cast taking their final bow. The lights of the theatre came up as the patrons all began to filter toward the exit.

Mother smiled down at me when the lady sitting behind me said, “what a fine young gentleman and lady you have.”

Mother nodded, beaming with pride, “thank you.”

Once we were outside, mother said, “Alina, Ivan, you were both very well behaved, did you enjoy the performance?”

My sister Alina smiled, “yes mother, very much.”

My father looked to me, “and you, Ivan?”

I hadn’t stopped grinning since we arrived, “oh yes father, that was the best night of my entire life.”

He chuckled, “well, it was a fine performance, but I am sure you will have many good nights in your lifetime.”

I felt as if I was walking on a cloud for the rest of our walk in the chilled night air. My brother greeted us as we walked into the apartment.

Mother asked, “are you feeling better son?”

He nodded, “a little mother, how was the play?”

It was the opening I craved, I started to talk nonstop, practically reenacting the entire evening. Father finally stopped me, “time for bed Ivan, the rest of you too.”

Mother tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead, I was still too excited to sleep. I’m not sure how long I lay there before I fell asleep. I next day, I took the book that mother had read to us and a notepad and wrote out all the lines for Tiny Tim. I started to memorize them and act them out in my room, I just knew that next year I would be in that play.

My father came in after work to get me for dinner, I said, “father, I would like to be on stage next Christmas.”

He laughed, “Ivan, those parts are played by the adult actor’s children, besides you are too old to play Tiny Tim, that child was at least two or three years younger than you are now.”

I protested, “but father, I could play one of the older children.”

He shook his head, “son, we have no connection to the theatre, we will probably never go to another play, ever again.”

I sighed, “but father, I know I would be wonderful on the stage, I want to…”

Father gave me a stern look, “I will not have any son of mine in the theatre, all of the men involved in such things are just dandies, they will only turn you into one of those queers.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, mother interrupted, “Peter, enough of that talk. Ivan, go wash up for dinner and put this theatre nonsense out of your mind.”

I couldn’t put it out of my mind, but I learned to keep my feelings to myself. Every day as I walked home from school, I would alter my route to go by the theatre. Stopping to peer in the window to see if I could see a rehearsal taking place, often being shooed away by the manager.

He said, “young man, you need to move along, no one is allowed in during rehearsals.”

I continued to walk down the street, I knew father was probably right, I may never see a play in the theatre again. The only reason we got to attend in the first place was because the tickets were a gift, mother and father worked too hard for their money to spend it on anything but necessities. I sighed as I kicked a stone off the sidewalk and made my way home.

After about two years of being rushed away from the theatre, I finally convinced the manager to let me inside. I had to sweep the floor, but I was able to watch some rehearsals, I was even earning 25 cents a week. Father still didn’t like me being around those “dandies”, as he called them, and I still wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he was happy that I was working and earning some money.

He pointed his finger at me, “just do the work you are told to do and stay off that stage, I don’t want any of those queers to influence you.”

I just nodded, “yes sir.”

That evening after dinner, I asked my brother Mikhail what father meant by dandies and queers. My eyes went wide, and my mouth hung open as he explained it to me. I was just 12 years old at the time, I didn’t even know what boys and girls did together, let alone that two boys could do such a thing.

Knowing that I would probably not be able to attend another live play, I discovered that I could watch a motion picture at one of the many movie palaces in the neighborhood. I convinced my mother to let me go to the Saturday matinee while her and father were working. In exchange, I promised that I would have my chores done before I left the apartment. We also agreed to not tell father.

I didn’t care what movie was playing, I would just get swept away with the action on the big screen in front of me. From the physical comedy of Buster Keaton in “The General” and “The Navigator”, to the drama of Lon Chaney in “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”, and Douglas Fairbanks in “The Thief of Bagdad” and of course my all-time favorite, Charlie Chaplin in “The Gold Rush.” I studied every move these actors made and every emotion they portrayed. These were certainly the masters of their craft, I just wanted to soak in everything, not knowing if I would ever get the chance to act myself.

I rushed home after watching Rudolph Valentino’s latest movie, worried that my father would already be home from work. I was relieved to see my older sister reading a story to my younger siblings, neither mother nor father were home yet. I went to the room that Mikhail and I shared with our younger brothers to put my coat away. I froze in my tracks, shocked to see my brother and a girl on the bed. They were both naked and he was on top of her, he quickly looked over his shoulder at me and yelled, “Ivan, get out!”

I quickly turned and left the room, confused. I remembered the talk we had months ago about boys and girls to together. A few minutes later, he and the girl came out of the room, and she quickly left the apartment. He pulled me into the room and pushed me up against the wall.

He grabbed my collar, “you will not tell mother or father about this, do you understand?”

I could see the fire in his eyes, I nodded and asked, “what were you doing?”

He released me roughly, “nothing, you will never speak of this again.”

We joined the rest of our siblings as my sister was beginning to prepare dinner, mother and father were soon home from their jobs. My brother and I just ate in silence as mother asked the others about their day.

Over the next few months, I kept quiet about what I had seen and continued to go to the theater to watch movies. I couldn’t go every week but was able to usually go once a month. Mikhail was now 16 years old, and my father was talking about having him leave school and start to work at the shipyard with him. I was starting to get concerned, in just three years, I would probably be in the same position. I thought about this as I walked to the theater, I was able to push those thoughts out of my mind once the movie started.

I panicked when the movie ran late, I ran home, still hoping to arrive before my parents. My heart sank when I heard my father yelling as I walked down the hall. I took a deep breath and walked into the apartment, Mikhail was sitting in the chair in front of father. Father turned as I walked in, he yelled, “get to your room Ivan.” I quickly obeyed, as soon as I closed the door behind me, my father began to yell again. Once my father was finished yelling at my brother, my mother opened the door and told us that dinner was ready. We all ate in silence, my father was still clearly upset, as was my brother. As I was helping clear the table after we ate, there was a knock on the door. Father answered it, the girl that I had seen with Mikhail was there with what appeared to be her parents. Mother told my sister and I to take our siblings to our rooms. After an hour of the adults having a serious discussion, the guests left. I came out of the bedroom, expecting to have to answer to my father as to why I was late, instead I heard my father still talking to my brother.

He said, “you will be going with me to the shipyard on Monday morning, you better pray that my boss will give you a job. You will be at the Justice of Peace on Wednesday.”

He turned to me, “Ivan, you and your younger brothers will be sleeping in the living room after Wednesday when your brother’s wife moves in.”

He walked to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Three months later, Mikhail’s wife gave birth to his son, we now had 14 of us living in our three-bedroom apartment.

 

To be Continued…