When Folks Still Named a Son "Adolph"

I was completely discombobulated by the latest turn of events.  Here we were at the Castro Theatre, just blocks from my home, but I couldn't go home because it was 1924.

I looked up from the mysterious business card of Monsieur Lapin-Blanc to see William Randolph Hearst escorting Marion Davies on the red carpet.  "MARION DAVIES in JANICE MEREDITH," shone brightly on the marquee of the Castro Theater.  I took a glance at the movie poster:  "Produced by William Randolph Hearst."  Of course!  This would have been the time of the newspaper magnate and the movie star's illicit affair.   Miss Davies and Mr. Hearst walked by after having posed for photos.  She was exquisite in face and form; her hair arranged in a marseille wave,  her lips painted `a la Betty Boop, and her gown fitted fluidly - the color of lilacs.  Mr. Hearst was large and dressed in tails and top hat.  I coughed in the trail of his cigar smoke.  Other notables strolled the red carpet.   As Alma Spreckels and her husband Adolph strolled by, I heard Mrs. Spreckels coo to her husband,  "Sugar daddy, shall we have a little popcorn?"

My sister was resplendent in a midnight blue flapper dress, showing off her long legs.  I wore a full-length sheath in pale pink.  I smoothed the front of my frock and whined, "I want to go home, Paulette."  I was suddenly taken by an urge to bolt up the street, to see my husband, my children,  and Bonkers.

"We will, Claudette.  We will.  I think we have to talk to the good rabbit, Monsier Lapin."

"Well, could we just walk up and see?  Maybe if we go up to the house, it will have changed.  I mean, the time will be back to the present."   I was pouting and Paulette knew I was pouting.  She gently yanked on my hair, and broke into a little jig.  I couldn't help but laugh.

Just then, the lights dimmed twice, signaling that it was time to find our seats.  I was curious about the movie and nodded to Paulette that I'd hang in for the show.  The ushers were offering glasses of Dom Perignon, and Paulette and I each grabbed two flutes.  We were escorted to seats near the front of the proscenium.  Paulette elbowed me, "Look, look!  It's the organ."  Before I could say anything crass, I saw that the gold painted organ and the organist were coming out of the stage floor. "Putting on the Ritz" was filling the air.  I flung down the first of my drinks.

Paulette was seated next to yet another Charlie, this time Charlie Chaplin, who already had a hand on her knee.  What a tramp he was!  My sister was whispering something in Mr. Chaplin's ear, and he was laughing so hard he nearly spit.  The music stopped, the organ retrenched, the curtains parted and the credits rolled.  There was a great roar, especially from Mr. Hearst, when his name appeared as producer.

In the darkened theater I felt a presence and turned to see a rabbit.  He pulled at my wrist and signaled for me to follow him.  I turned to look at my sister, but she was watching the movie, and  keeping a close vigilance on Mr. Chaplin's hand.

Once in the lobby, the rabbit, who was actually a man, peered up at me very intently.  And I stared back.  He was short and very white.  He wore a pale pink waistcoat and had a giant Flavor Flav-style watch hanging off his pocket.

"My dear, you are one of The Twins, n'est-ce pas?  Good, good.  This is all very good.  We must be on our way.  Yes, yes, we must go now.  We mustn't be late.  No, no, that would not be prudent.  We mustn't delay."  The rabbit-man furrowed his brow and sniffed.

"Wait!  Who are you?  What are you talking about?"  I released my wrist from his weak hold.

"My dear!  I am Mr. Lapin-Blanc - the very same Mr. Lapin-Blanc for whom you are holding a business card.  And I gather you and your soeur need my assistance.  A little something about falling down the rabbit hole, no?"

"Well, yes, but how can you..?"  I had my doubts that a man who had pink eyes could help.

"My dear woman, we are wasting precious time!"  Monsieur stomped his rather large foot.

"I have to get..."  My words were cut off by a loud scream from inside the theater.

"Help, help!  Someone help me!  My husband is ill!"

And then, an usher barreled out into the lobby, "Mr. Spreckels has succumbed!  Call an ambulance - quickly!" the usher ordered the ticket taker. Four large men quietly and succinctly brought out the prostrate Mr. Spreckels, his bride in tow.  She looked so young and frail - so different from the woman who walked into the theater an hour earlier.

It was then that Mr. Lapin-Blanc grabbed my hand and whisked me through the doors to the cool evening air.  "We mustn't be late!"

"Paulette!  Paulette!"  I cried.