Sky Tongues by Gina Ranalli Page A

that, I knew that presenting a little award would be nothing but a piece of cake.

37

   I was wrong.
   Getting back only minutes before we were told it was time, I hadn’t memorized what I was supposed to say yet. I told the assistant who was sent to fetch us and he said not to worry about it. There would be a teleprompter. I also told him I had no intention of singing any jingle and he said he doubted there would be time anyway, since the show was running behind.
   Reassured, I felt much better as the three of us were led to the stage entrance and told to wait for our cue. Both Lavinia and Lucia were perfectly calm. They seemed almost bored, which was usually Lavinia’s natural state and unsurprising at that point since she had been to these things before. But I figured Lucia would be at least as nervous as I was. Instead, she calmly waited, checking herself in the mirror now and then.
   We watched as someone received an award for Best Original Screenplay and then we were up. I was scared to death I might trip and make an ass out of myself, but the walk across the stage went well, with Lavinia leading, Lucia in the middle and me bringing up the rear.
   Once we arrived at the podium, Lavinia did most of the talking without ever glancing at the teleprompter and I was able to scan the crowd. As soon as I saw the sea of people sitting before us, I calmed down. It was just like doing theater, I thought, except that everyone here is dressed in fancier clothes. I figured if I’d ever made it to Broadway, the audience would have looked exactly the same as this one did.
   Meanwhile, Lavinia had begun singing her song, while Lucia and I took a step back and let her have the spotlight. We both made it look good, swinging our hips back and forth and smiling like lunatics. Lucia snapped the fingers of her four hands and I tried clapping with my tongues, without much success.
   Thankfully the song was brief and we stepped forward again, patiently waiting for the applause to cease. When it finally did, it was time for Lucia’s mini-monologue and I stood idly by, trying to look fascinated by what she was saying. All too soon, she was finished and it was time for me to ramble on about nonsense. I calmly smiled and for the first time flicked my eyes at the teleprompter. To my dismay, I couldn’t read a single word on it. One of the ceiling lights was casting a glare and all I good see was its reflection. Distressed, I did the only thing I knew to do: I improvised. I made small talk with the audience, saying how exciting the whole event was, meanwhile trying to remember from the script what I was supposed to say. I managed to recall the bit about the award we were presenting almost verbatim, but then it came time to do the little plug for one of the shows sponsors. I knew it was for some chain restaurant, but that was about all I could remember. Which restaurant? No clue.
   So, I made one up and began talking about Charley’s Big Tine Saloon. It was the first thing that came into my head. I tried to ignore the crew motioning for me to look at the teleprompter and generally going crazy, and I just rambled on. Charley wanted everyone to come on out and try his spicy baby-back tofu ribs, his special secret sauce tofu buffalo wings and of course, the infamously huge forks. His slaw was also to die for and if you were looking for a casual place with sawdust on the floor and live country music, Charley’s Big Tine Saloon was the place to go.
   I noticed the audience exchanging glances here and there, but most just sat, either looking bored and yawning or staring with a blank smile.
   Lavinia and Lucia, gods bless them, stood by and remained absolutely neutral, as if they’d known all along about the Big Tine Saloon. Then I noticed the director frantically dragging his finger across his throat, motioning me to shut the hell up, so I did and Lavinia began reciting the nominees.
   A fine sheen of