Clandestine Cabaret: Bump and Grind

It’s the first day of rehearsal with Cabaret Clandestine and Karen’s in for a huge surprise when she learns how she’s been cast in their gala performance.

In Chapter Five of Bump and Grind, Karen takes on her first big theatre audition since her accident, for the exclusive and intimidating Cabaret Clandestine. 

In Chapter Four of Bump and Grind Karen’s amazing opportunity isn’t as cut and dry as she’s led to believe, and now she has to pull of an impromptu audition for some of the most intimidating collaborators she’s ever encountered. Will her post-accident anxiety destroy her last chance at the career of her dreams?

Karen’s friends and family learn more about the exciting turn her life has taken as she hits Prime Time to share her story with the world.

Struggling actress Karen Parker gets a huge surprise and a second shot at her career when a bad day at work takes an outrageous turn.

Bump and Grind Chapter One: The Cataclysmic Break

Meet Karen Parker, a struggling actress who’s saying goodbye to her dreams of an arts career when a gorgeous blast from her past shows up at her job at the local library.

Welcome to chapter three of Bump and Grind. If you’d like to listen, rather than read, scroll to the bottom of the page.

My nearest and dearest gathered at my best friend Samantha’s condo to watch the E Prime Time special, where my win would be announced to the nation. Sam had the biggest TV I’d ever seen, and her place was much better suited to hosting than mine, even though it wasn’t a large crowd. 

Other than Samantha, my best friend since college, the guest list included Malcolm and their new baby Darnell, and my mother, who had insisted she make the drive into the city. 

This was the tiny fan club that had nominated me for the “Dare to Live Your Dream” contest, and I was completely oblivious. I mean, you go through your days, fretting over the usual bullshit like paying bills and awkward home bikini waxes, and meanwhile all of your loved ones are conspiring to save you from yourself. Exactly how far was my head up my own ass that I didn’t even suspect something?

“So Mrs. Peters, are you excited to see Karen on TV?” Malcolm asked. 

I turned from where I stood, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the city skyline. Mom pressed her thin lips into a line, as excited as she could get. She was a Eureykah fan, so I knew my rubbing elbows with the celebrity had earned me a few brownie points. Despite this, she was as unreadable as ever.  Except, of course, for her obvious discomfort with Samantha and Malcolm’s alternative family arrangement. She’d been outraged when Sam had chosen to raise a baby with Malcolm instead of finding a “nice husband.” I guess mom thought it was okay for Eureykah to be queer, because she didn’t have to see her in real life. 

“It’s nice to finally see her education pay off,” Mom said. 

Malcolm tried to hand her a glass of wine, but she raised her hand. 

“Thank you, but I only drink at weddings.” 

I could feel her pointed look, but wasn’t sure if it was because I was already on my second glass, or because we both knew there wouldn’t be any wedding bells in my future. 

Mom attempted to return to her seat, but it had been stolen by Sam and Malcolm’s enormous Dane, Theo Huxtable. Theo had backed his rear into the chair and was now half sitting and half standing on the floor. 

“Dogs. On the furniture,” Mom muttered, shaking her head.

Malcolm retreated from the polar vortex that was Jeanette Peters and headed over to Sam and I instead. I gladly accepted a refill, thinking I should probably just hang on to the entire bottle.

“So, how are you?” Sam said quietly. “This is…a lot.”

I sipped the wine. “I don’t feel like I’m really here.”

“How was Eureykah?” Malcolm asked. “Was she as nice as she seems?”

Sam passed me a tray of cheese cubes and red grapes. I grabbed a napkin and a pile of cheese. 

“She was actually lovely,” I said. “It made me feel bad for actively resisting her brand of self-help for so long.”

“So, what’s the dream they’ve lined up for you?” Malcolm asked.

“You can’t wait half an hour?” Sam gave him a playful slap. 

Baby Darnell chose that moment to wake with a cry from his bassinet. I was grateful for the distraction because I hadn’t quite figured out how to tell them what Eureykah wanted me to do for my dare.

Bump and Grind Chapter Two: A Daring Dreamer

Welcome to chapter two of Bump and Grind. If you’d like to listen, rather than read, scroll to the bottom of the page.

Bruce Thompson was a dashing combo of silver-streaked brown locks and still-boyish good looks. A tsunami of queasiness swept me away. Our celebrity guest had arrived.

His warm gaze dissolved into a look of amazement. I recalled in painstaking detail the first time I’d laid eyes on him, at my first big audition after graduating. 

Bruce’s acclaim as an actor and director had won him a Tony award for Eureykah Johnson’s recent Broadway smash, and now Bruce was in town with his new pal to direct her gala.

“Karen Peters?” He stepped closer, eyes shining with wonder, and all I could do was nod. “My God, it’s been ages. I can’t believe it’s you! What are you doing here?” He threw his arms open for a hug. 

I stepped into him, hoping I didn’t smell like the uncle to be avoided at holiday gatherings after the night I’d had. 

Bruce folded me into the crisp scent of outdoor air mingled with his own subtle, spicy fragrance. 

“Well… I work here,” I said.

“You do?” He finally released me. An awkward pause sucked up all of the air in the room. 

I’m sure he was wondering how I’d gone from a career-making role with the National Shakespeare Festival to shelving books in a dusty old library. 

“Your hair is a darker chestnut, but otherwise you haven’t changed a bit.” 

White hot shame pulsed through my body. How could he not see how much I’d changed?

“It’s really great to see you, Bruce.” I smiled as hard as my heart was beating. “Can I take your coat?”

Bruce peeled off his heavy wool overcoat and fished out the inhaler. He was put together in a perfectly unaffected way. All he needed was a forest and a dog to romp with. 

“Karen, how are you? What are you up to these days? You pop into my head so often.” 

He didn’t ask if I was still acting. 

“I’m great. Let me go and hang this up. Can I bring you a coffee?”

“That would be lovely. Wow, Karen Peters…” 

His eyes were on me as I walked back to the staff area. Each step felt like an eternity. 

“Our conference room is there to the left,” I called over my shoulder. “Have a look and see if you need anything. Do you still take it black?” 

“How sweet of you to remember,” Bruce said.

“Bruce Thompson has arrived,” I announced to Mrs. Henderson, my voice cracking.

She looked me over, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Much better,” she said. “I’ll take him this. You brew another. You’re going to need it when those noisy teenagers get here.”

#

Last week my boss, Malcolm, had announced with glee that Bruce would be here, in the last place I’d ever expect to see him, to facilitate a Shakespeare workshop for local students. I’d thought about returning to bartending in that moment. The money was better, the hours flexible. Did it really matter so much that the library had been a way better move for my overall hea...

Bump and Grind Chapter One: The Cataclysmic Break

Welcome to chapter one of Bump and Grind. If you’d like to listen, rather than read, scroll to the bottom of the page.

Dying felt like skinny-dipping in a deep August lake. Warm and wet, floating in a silence that was sweeter than a lover’s whisper.

In the moments before I crashed, I’d been listening to the oldies radio station, singing a campy calypso song to stay awake. The bright orange sparks flying over the hood of my car looked pretty—until I fully woke up and realized what they meant. I grabbed the wheel and veered away from the guardrail.  

The car spun out of control, the speed too great and the rain-soaked road too slick for my maneuvering. The last thing I saw was the tree line on the other side of the deserted highway, a shadowy army of trunks exposed by the headlights. I heard a bang like a pistol shot and was blinded by the stark white of the airbag. That was it. 

“I am here, but I’m going to take you back.”

A woman’s voice penetrated the delicious void. My body was weightless and free in the velvet calm of the weirdly intangible space that was death. The stars overhead, more than I’d ever seen, swirled slowly, pulsing with light as if they were breathing. Even though I knew I was dead, everything was perfect. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere. 

“Karen, you are not alone.”

For the brief period in my teens when I’d believed in God, I was sure She was a woman. Now I had proof. She sounded an awful lot like Emma Watson.

“You have to go back. This isn’t your time.”

How disappointing. I’d have to face up to my stupid decisions. I’d probably traumatized my mom, my friends.

“Why?” I tried not to whine. Blessed are the meek and all that.

“Because we need you. I’m here to give you something special, and we need you to make use of this gift.”

My disembodied soul rolled its third eye.

“I’m too tired.” 

“We know this is difficult, but you don’t have a choice. When it’s actually your time to die, you won’t have a choice about that either.”

I felt a heat rising from within, like searing metal on bare flesh. Pain was a memory, but I recoiled all the same.

“Let it in, Karen. This is our gift to you.”

Our gift?

The black velvet shroud of death was pulled away, and a cool radiance shimmered in its place. As the blue light grew in intensity, it swirled into a tunnel. I thought the light was supposed to be white. 

More than anything, I wanted to stay in the uncomplicated safety of this nowhere place filled with stars. Here, I’d never have to tell anyone I shouldn’t have been driving.

“It’s time for you to go, Karen.”

Familiar sounds trickled into the tunnel from the other side. People talking. Medical jargon. Music. The soundtrack of my life before I died. I recognized “Stairway to Heaven” finding its way in from the land of the living. God had a sense of humor. She was also a Zeppelin fan. Maybe I could be religious after all.

I didn’t have a choice, so I embraced the cliché and went toward the light. I did my part, but it took a long-ass time for God to make good on Her promise.

#

Three Years Later

The sunlight blazed through my bedroom window, making it a struggle to open my eyes. My cat, Bojangles,