The name of the adorable eight year old with the voice of a seasoned opera star was on the lips of every American with a television: Genevieve Kotarski. Somehow, being robbed of first place in the nationally televised talent competition by a mediocre singer in his twenties with a sob story had only won Genevieve more press and publicity, and the graceful way she handled her loss won the young prodigy even more fans.
Now, several months later, people were still coming out of the woodwork to offer her scholarships to their performing arts schools, hoping the enrollment of such a brightly shining star-in-the-making would lend their institution a higher degree of prestige. Calls were continuing to pour in from agents based out of New York and Los Angeles who were clamoring to represent her. Her mother and father, stage parents of the most overbearing kind, were thrilled by all of it, but she was just plain tired.
“I’m not a performing monkey,” she told her parents.
“But sweetie,” her mother cooed, “you LOVE monkeys!” Ms. Kotarski tried to hand her daughter a sock monkey that had been sent to her by a fan.
“No, Mom, I really don’t, and I’m sorry I ever let you and Dad convince me to wear that sock monkey sweater for the audition,” she snapped. “Ever since then, it’s sock monkey hats, sock monkey t-shirts, sock monkey slippers, mittens… and that handmade sock monkey that plays the recording of me singing ‘Ave Maria’ whenever you squeeze its belly… So creepy… and now I can’t escape from all of these sock monkeys!”
“The sweater was age appropriate,” Mr. Kotarski said.
“It was not age appropriate!” Genevieve exclaimed. “You lied about my age, gave them a fake birth certificate, and told them I was eight to make my singing seem more impressive. I’m 11½! Aren’t they going to be shocked to see that, four months after all that media coverage, I’m six inches taller and I’ve got boobs!”
“I told you it was a bad idea,” Mr. Kotarski mumbled. “We’re definitely going to get caught now. Everyone is going to know.”
“No, no,” Ms. Kotarski said, “we just have to be smart about this. Jen almost won because of her talent, not her age. Her talent is still impressive even for an 11½ year old. We just… miscalculated. She can still be famous. She just needs to go… underground for awhile. She can come back when she’s grown up a bit more. No one needs to know we fibbed about her age. We’ll just say she blossomed early. ”
“What?” Genevieve ask incredulously. “What are you talking about? I just want to have a normal life for a little while, be a normal pre-teen girl.”
“Jen, we found someone who wants to help you,” her father said in a calm voice. “He is a very wealthy man, and has adopted several girls with different talents.”
“You’re putting me up for adoption???” Genevieve asked with panic in her voice.
“No sweetie,” her mother assured her. “We are just going to send you to stay with him for a few years. There will be other girls around your age there, too. You’ll have classes every day with the other girls, taught by private teachers that he has brought in from the best universities. You’ll live on an estate, with a housekeeping staff, and in the afternoons, you’ll have private voice lessons with a highly respected vocal coach from the nearby performing arts academy. You’ll continue your education and your voice lessons. You’ll get to take a break from the limelight for a little while and make friends with other girls your age… Think of it as being like a cross between summer camp and a really nice boarding school.”
“Well,” Genevieve said with trepidation in her voice, “I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“And,” Ms. Kotarski added, “it’ll keep your father and I out of trouble.”
Genevieve glared at her mother.
“Not that you need to worry about that…” her mother stammered.
“Taking a break does sound nice,” Genevieve mumbled to herself. “Maybe the girls there don’t get to watch a lot of TV. Maybe they won’t know who I am. Maybe I can just be ‘Jen,’ instead of ‘Genevieve Kotarski, the opera prodigy from that talent show.’ ”
‘And maybe,’ she thought, ‘I can finally escape all these damn sock monkeys…’
can anybody really escape from sock monkeys?
ReplyDeleteNo onesie???
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