The Phantom of Oz, Installment #9
Undergone a Disagreeable Change
Hello! Welcome to Installment #9 of my weekly serialization of The Phantom of Oz. If you missed earlier chapters, you can read Installment #1 here, Installment #2 here, Installment #3 here, Installment #4 here, Installment #5 here , Installment #6 here, Installment # 7 here, or Installment #8 here.
This chapter takes place in one of my favorite spots in Phoenix, Seamus McCaffrey’s Irish Pub. It’s right next to the Hotel San Carlos, whose ghost is one of the inspirations for The Phantom of Oz, and across the street from the Orpheum Theatre, which became Phantom’s Grand Phoenician. McCaffrey’s has great fish and chips, Guinness on tap, and was walking distance from several of my jobs and the Herberger Theatre Center.
Seamus no longer owns the pub, but while doing research for this newsletter, I was tickled to learn that Frank* and Andrew, two of my favorite bartenders there, bought it.
And now, on to Chapter 8. Happy reading!
*Frank is now raising a glass with the angels. Sláinte, Frank!
Chapter 8 (Part One)
Undergone a Disagreeable Change
I walked the few blocks to the pub. Something bugged me. Sure, I was jealous that Candy was spending time with Babette instead of me, but it wasn’t really surprising. I was pretty sure I would have done the same thing if Babette had asked me. After all, how often do famous talent scouts come to Phoenix?
Huh. I stopped walking and sat down on a bench under a streetlight so I could think properly. Why was Babette here for auditions? Sure, we were close to LA, but it wasn’t as if Phoenix was known as a hotbed of young talent. Or wait, maybe we were. There were a couple of great children’s theaters here, one of which had produced Emma Stone. Still, it seemed weird. Something to ask Candy about. Or Babette, if she was still with Candy.
I walked the rest of the way to Seamus McCaffrey’s, opened the door, and was greeted by the smell of fried food, whiskey, and beer. I grabbed a booth near the back for Candy and me and ordered a Guinness. Plus some French fries. I was always starving after a show.
It being pretty late on a weeknight, the pub was quiet. I leaned back against the booth and reveled in a few minutes of calm (plus beer and French fries). Though I’d never been to Ireland, Seamus McCaffrey’s seemed like what a neighborhood Irish pub should be: cozy dark wood booths scuffed from regular use; a long bar, its stools filled with regulars; and rows of whiskey bottles behind the counter, backlit so they glowed like golden treasures.
Eleven o’clock came and went. So did my French fries. I wandered up to the bar, ordered another beer, and took it with me to the jukebox. Five songs for a dollar. I flipped through the titles and put some quarters in the slot. Johnny Cash’s version of “The Long Black Veil” began to play, and I tookmy beer back to the booth. After the song ended, “Pretty Woman” by Roy Orbison started up. Candy walked in the door as if on cue. She didn’t see me at first, so I was able to take another good look at her. Yeah, way too skinny, dressed in a tight low-cut top, a short skirt, and booties with five-inch heels. Hobbled by the too-high heels, she took tiny steps and her walk looked studied, like she thought people might be watching her. They were. They always had. Candy used to exude a sort of friendly sexuality: she was the kind of girl guys wanted to roll in the hay with and then take home to Mother. That was gone, replaced by a more traditional sexpot look. The way people watched her was different too. I saw censure in the eyes of women: Candy was too much—too much makeup, too much cleavage, too much Hollywood to fit in at a pub on a weeknight. And the men who watched her didn’t smile and nudge each other, like I was used to with Candy. No, they appraised her, like a car they might buy.
A peculiar tightness wound itself around my chest. It took me a minute to identify it. Fear. I was afraid for my friend.
Watch next week for Installment #10, Chapter 8, Part Two, “Undergone a Disagreeable Change”
And if you haven’t read the first four books in the Agatha-nominated series:
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