Ella of All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor Page A

with graying hair, a mass of curls tumbling over his forehead. He was dressed in a faded brown shirt and baggy trousers held together by a rope tied around his middle. It was Tony, the iceman!
    Taking hold of Tony’s hand, Charlie propelled him gently forward. “See, Papa,” he announced triumphantly, his face radiant with happiness, “I brought Elijah!”
    Speechless, everyone eyed the unexpected guest. Finally, Aunt Fanny found her voice. “What kind of Elijah is this?” she tittered. “Tony, the iceman?”
    “Could be,” Tanta said. “After all, Elijah always carried a bundle on his back. And with Tony, it’s always a sack of coal in the winter or a big block of ice in the summer.”
    Grins appeared on all the faces, but Papa shook his head disapprovingly. At once the grins disappeared.
    “Excuse me,” Tony said hastily, “your little Charlie, he tells me it is Seder night and I must come upstairs with him and drink the wine. I could not say no to the little boy. So I come.”
    Papa nodded and pointed to the wine bottle. “Help yourself, Tony.”
    Tony picked up the glass nearest him already filled.
    “No, no Elijah,” Charlie bounced up and down. “You have to drink from your own cup!”
    Tony mussed the boy’s hair. “That’s all right, Charlie. This’ll do fine.” Without further ado, he drained the glass.
    “Well, I thank you. The wine, it is good—very good. Now I must go. I still have some ice to deliver. Good night and a happy holiday to all of you.”
    As the door closed behind Tony, the glow faded from Charlie’s face. Mournfully he looked at Elijah’s cup on the table. He turned to Papa. “He didn’t drink from his cup. I guess maybe it wasn’t Elijah after all.”
    Papa put his arm around Charlie and drew him close.
    “Well Charlie, we’ll never know, will we? Maybe he didn’t want to be recognized. Come, my son, take your place and let the Seder begin.”

7
A Lucky Break
    Returning home from work one evening, Ella was greeted by a beaming Mama with “There was a telephone call for you today!”
    “Yes?”
    “The friend of that man you met in Albany,” Mama replied. “He said they’re auditioning tomorrow morning, and if you’re interested, you’re to be there at ten o’clock sharp. You’re to ask for a Mr. Trent. Here! I wrote down the address.”
    Mama’s words caused an instant commotion among the girls. They surrounded Ella, all demanding to be heard.
    “Are you really going to go?” “Will it be a real show on Broadway?” “Of course you’re taking Mama!” “Can we go along?” “Will they make you a star?”
    Ella covered her ears. “Please, everybody, don’t all pounce on me at once! Give me a chance to think!”
    For a brief moment, all was quiet. Then practical Sarah spoke up. “Ella, what about your job?”
    “That’s easy. She’ll just take the day off,” Henny declared. “A chance like this comes only once in a lifetime!”
    There followed a spirited discussion as to what Ella should wear, how she should act, what she should sing. What she should say. Through it all, Ella was silent, hermind tossing back and forth on waves of elation and panic. It kept right on tossing a good part of the night.
    Morning finally came. As usual, Papa set off for work and the children were dispatched to school. But for Ella it was an extra-special morning. With painstaking care, she groomed herself for the audition. She chose her best dress, a simple maroon wool with a white collar crossed demurely in front. A black hat with maroon facing topped off the costume.
    Looking at her, Mama was infinitely touched. My firstborn, she thought, young and eager. God grant she realizes her desire.
    On her part, Ella was admiring her mother’s still youthful figure dressed up in her best—her braid-trimmed frock. I’m so proud Mama looks so nice.
    Arm in arm, mother and daughter left the house and walked the few blocks to the subway station.
    The time seemed to drag