THE UNDERSTUDY

                         by

                       Watcher


 
"I believe congratulations are in order."
 
Looking up from the newspaper with the latest theatre reviews, 
Lauren was surprised to see Alexandra St. John standing at the 
doorway to her small dressing room.  It was not often that the 
great diva herself descended to the basement levels.  Something 
about the way she was dressed bothered Lauren.  Alexandra looked 
like she was in disguise, with a wide-brimmed hat that left most 
of her face in shadow and a fur coat that covered her up to the 
chin. 
 
Lauren kept her face neutral.  "Thank you.  And I wanted to thank 
you for all your help.  I doubt if I would be getting the part 
without learning so much from you."  The Prima Donna would expect 
some flattery, and, with her temper, Lauren had learned it was best 
to humour her.
 
Alexandra inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement.  She never 
picked up on the lie.  The great Alexandra St. John, help out a 
lesser actress, even her young understudy?  That was a joke.  The 
woman had belittled her, treated her little better than a servant, 
all the while dropping hints that Lauren was possibly the worse 
understudy she had ever had.  Not that she was picking on Lauren, 
particularly, she just liked belittling everyone in the theatre.
 
"You think you are so clever," Alexandra said softly, but there was 
a hard undertone to her voice that shocked Lauren.  The woman 
pushed the door to the dressing room closed behind her, then folded 
her arms across her chest. 
 
"I don't follow...," Lauren began but the star cut her off.
 
"You're not the first little starlet that thought she could climb 
over me to reach the top.  Oh, don't bother denying it.  First you 
start as my understudy, and next you're auditioning for a leading 
role in the play.  What is your next step now that you've gotten 
the role?  Perhaps my part?"
 
The venom in Alexandra's voice shook Lauren.  She had never been 
anything other than polite and respectful to the woman.  She was 
in the prime of her career; at thirty-five she could easily have 
passed for twenty-five.  She could have any role on Broadway that 
she wanted, but she thought Lauren was after her job?  That made 
no sense.
 
"Miss St. John, I don't know what you think I'm doing, but you are 
mistaken.  I just want to move on to a starring role."  It wasn't 
even that big a part.
 
"I know that it will be years before I have anything like your 
presence or skill...."
 
"You're a good liar," Alexandra said, cutting her off with a dry 
laugh.  "I'll give you that, but you won't be a problem for me 
any longer."
 
A shiver ran down Lauren's spine.  There was such cold certainty in 
the woman's voice.  A star of Alexandra's standing could make life 
really difficult for her career-wise if she wanted to. 
 
"Have you ever heard of Thorn Hill sanatorium?" Alexandra asked 
almost casually.  Seeing a confused look cross Lauren's face, she 
shrugged.  "I didn't think so.  It's a mental asylum for women.  
A few dollars in the right doctor's hands, and you're certified as 
insane, with an involuntary commitment order that will take you 
right to Thorn Hill.  They're funded by the state on a per patient 
basis, so the more patients, the more money they get -- and its not 
really in their interests to let you go once they have you."
 
The blood drained from Lauren's face.  A threat to block her 
getting acting roles she could understand, but having her 
locked up in some madhouse....  Surely Alexandra was joking.  
It had to be a cruel joke, but a joke all the same.  It had to be.
 
The woman did not look like she was joking.  If anything, she 
looked smugly satisfied the way a cruel child might once it 
had trapped a fly and was about to pull its wings off. 
 
"You're going to be admitted under the name Jane Doe.  The 
orderlies will be here presently, and they are going to take 
you away when I leave.  Do you want to know what they are 
going to do to you?"
 
"Miss St. John...," Lauren began again.  She had to explain.  
Surely Alexandra could be made to understand she had no plans 
to try replacing her.  The very idea was preposterous. 
 
"Of course you do," Alexandra stated.  She had the bit between her 
teeth now, and nothing was going to hold her back from laying out 
the future she had engineered for Lauren.
 
"First, they will strip you, and you needn't think you'll be 
getting that nice dress back any time soon.  Thorn Hill doesn't 
like wasting money on storage for long-term inmates.  It'll go 
straight into the incinerator, along with your shoes, your purse, 
your driver's licence, your knickers....  Everything will go up 
in smoke."
 
"Then you will have to be deloused.  They will take you to the 
showers and throw you in to be covered in all sorts of nice 
chemicals, the sort that sting and burn."  There was a gleam in 
her eye as she moved forward and crossed the small room until she 
was standing over Lauren.
 
A hand encased in a soft leather glove reached out to caress 
Lauren's long blond hair.  "This will have to go, of course.  
I understand they have some really impressive razors.  Electrical. 
They will leave you bald as an egg in just a few minutes.  Then 
it's straight onto the table for your examination."
 
"Stop it," Lauren snapped, and a sliver of fear could be heard in 
her voice.  She slapped away Alexandra's hand from her hair, but 
her hand was shaking as her mind was filled with pictures of her 
hair falling around her bare shoulders as she stood naked and 
shivering in some cold, clinical shower.
 
"They will have your feet in the stirrups and spread you nice and 
wide so that the doctor, the nurses, and even the orderlies all 
get a good look at that dirty little slit of yours.  Heaven knows 
what's been up there, but I'm sure the doctors will all have a real 
good time checking you out."
 
"Then it's off to the ward.  Oh, they'll give you a hospital gown; 
you know the sort: ultra-short and so very hard to keep closed at 
the back.  You'll be in restraints, so I suppose you will just have 
to get used to everyone getting a good view of your bare bottom.  
Mad women like you don't get underwear."
 
"You can't get away with this," Lauren cried.  "This isn't the 
Victorian era.  This is the Nineteen Fifties.  You can't just 
lock people up.  I'll have you all arrested."
 
If she thought the threat would stop the women, she was sadly 
disappointed.  "Who is going to believe a mad woman?  Especially 
after you've had a few electro-shock treatments.  Why, after they 
fry your brain, I doubt if you will remember your own name."
 
Alexandra smiled at her and that more that any of the threats made 
Lauren's skin crawl.  It was like the smile of a snake about to 
strike.  "Of course, it might just affect your memory a bit, but 
if the changes are more pronounced..., well, I'm sure they will 
have a nice snug straitjacket and a padded cell for you."

She laughed.
 
"And I know the orderlies will make sure you're not lonely.  They 
do get so frustrated working long hours away from their 
sweethearts.  The management understands they need to blow off 
steam....  You will get to perform every night until they tire of 
you.  They can't fuck you, of course.  No unwanted pregnancies, 
but you have a nice mouth, and there is always that sweet little 
asshole of yours.  It will hurt the first few times, but once you 
get nice and stretched out, the pricks will slide right in, and 
you won't even notice."
 
"It sounds so much fun I might even check in on you in a few months 
to see how you are doing."  She glanced at her watch, noting the 
time.  "The orderlies will be arriving now, and, as much as I'd 
like to tell you more about your future, it will be more fun for 
you to find out for yourself."  She turned and started toward 
the door.
 
"You'd do this to me?" Lauren asked as she climbed to her feet.  
The shock had worn off now.  She was afraid, of course, but, 
overriding everything she felt an anger bordering on rage.
 
Something in her tone made Alexandra stop and turn back.  "It's 
already done."
 
"Something you should know about me," Lauren began as she moved to 
intercept Alexandra.  Her fingers curled into a fist.  "I grew up 
in a rough neighbourhood, and I learned to box just as well as any 
of my brothers."
 
Alexandra was starting to frown when Lauren's fist caught her on 
the jaw.  The star's knees buckled, and she hit the floor like a 
felled tree.
 
"There is a word for what you are suffering from.  Paranoia.  I 
think you need to see a doctor about that," Lauren continued, 
even though Alexandra's eyes were closed, and she was beyond 
hearing anything for a while. 
 
		******************************

"Miss St. John," one of the white-clad orderlies said respectfully 
as she stepped out into the corridor.  With one gloved hand, she 
gestured to the dressing room, and, straitjacket in hand, they 
moved past her.
 
"Let's get her secured," one of the men muttered, and she heard 
the sound of an unconscious woman being rolled over. 
 
"I've seen her somewhere," one of the orderlies remarked as they 
worked.
 
"She's some sort of actress," the other told him.  "They said we 
might recognise her.  Must have fainted when she got the news."
 
Lauren hardly dared to breath until she made it to the street.  It 
had worked.  She had walked right past them, and all they had seen 
was Alexandra's wide-brimmed hat that left most of her face in 
shadow and the lavish fur coat.  Looking over her shoulder she 
saw a woman now wearing a straitjacket being taken to a waiting 
ambulance.  From the look of it, Alexandra was still groggy.  She 
would have fallen without the orderlies holding her up. 
 
When the ambulance pulled away she felt a momentary pang of 
sympathy for the star, but it quickly vanished.  Alexandra 
had been so wrapped up staying incognito that the orderlies 
were easily fooled.  They would take Jane Doe to this Thorn 
Hill, where she would be stripped, shaved, deloused, and 
restrained.  Perhaps if she were lucky, someone would recognise 
her, though Broadway stars were not nearly as well-recognised as 
their more famous Hollywood cousins.  If not...well, Alexandra 
St. John was going to learn all about the life she was ready to 
inflict on someone else.  That was something Lauren could live 
with. 
 
"And, who knows, maybe they will be able to fix your paranoia," 
she chuckled as the ambulance sped away to Thorn Hill with its 
reluctant passenger.  "Otherwise it could be your undoing."



Edited by C. Lakewood