The Linnet's Wings Summer 2014 | Page 105

ossity Chandler blinked as cameras flashed at the door to the restaurant. In all her years of celebrity she had never gotten used to this. She found a table and ordered a double scotch. Aaron Reynolds, a friend of hers from the theater world, waved and came over to her table. “I just saw Hamlet over at the Parks Theater and decided to drop in for a night-cap.” “I saw that last week. Did you like it?” She went into an analysis of it. She had liked the major roles but thought several of the supporting characters—Laertes, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Osric—were poorly done. Aaron agreed with her. “Hamlet is here tonight,” he said. “So is Ophelia. Would you like to meet them?” “I’ve wanted to meet them all my life,” she smiled. When they came to her table, she invited them to sit down. Hamlet was young and sharp, handsome in a rugged way; the girl who played Ophelia was one of the most exquisitely beautiful women Sossity had ever seen. She had a slender, perfectly formed body. The blue dress she wore hung on her like a natural ornament, complimenting her graceful posture. Her white-blond hair, blue eyes, long lashes and well-shaped mouth demanded a person look at her. Both players were excited to meet Sossity. Both had been to her concerts and owned her recordings. “I compliment the two of you on your performance tonight,” she said. Then she added, “I love that play. I was in Hamlet in college.” Derrick (Hamlet) asked if she were Ophelia. “No, I was Gertrude.” Then she reached over and lightly touched Derrick’s hand as she put on the voice and intonation from years ago at Purdue University’s Little Theatre: “Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, / And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. / Do not for ever with thy vailed lids / Seek for thy noble father in the dust: / Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, / Passing through nature to eternity.” Derrick took the cue: “Ay, madam, it is common,” he said. “ If it be, / Why seems it so