Weasel

by D L Edwards

Chapter One:

By D L Edwards

I am a human dynamo. My Uncle Teddy gave me that nickname because nothing can stop me. That’s not what everyone calls me, though. Everyone calls me “Weasel” thanks to my older sister, Taylor. My real name? No one calls me Lydia except sometimes my mom and whatever teacher I’m stuck with that year. Teachers think they have to call you by your real name no matter how lame it is. Lydia Lyn Lyndell. My parents are still snickering about that one.

I have to know everything that’s going on around me. If I don’t, I sniff around until I find out. That’s how I got the name Weasel. I was only four years old at the time. My mom and my three older sisters, Taylor, Mara and Hannah, were all talking about Taylor’s tonsillectomy she had when she was six, but I wasn’t sure who they were talking about. So, of course, I started asking.

“Who ith thith about, Mommy? Everybody thtop talking. (I lisped when I was four.) WHO ITH THITH ABOUT?”

“Lydia! Why do you have to weasel your way into every conversation?” my mom said.

That’s when Taylor piped up.

“Yes. Butt out, Weasel!”

All three sisters started calling me Weasel after that. Mom still calls me Lydia when she remembers my name, but even she calls me Weasel half the time. Dad always calls me Weasel. I think he regrets being part of what I refer to as the “Triple L Conspiracy”. Honestly. Lydia.

All the kids at school call me Weasel, which is fine with me. When the teacher reads my full name on day one each fall, all the kids laugh. I laugh, too. It’s better to laugh than be laughed at I figure. The kids all tell the teacher my name is Weasel, but that never sinks in with a teacher. I’m Lydia forever to her.

Even my agent calls me Weasel. Yes, I have an agent. Her name is Sarah Kennedy Johnston. I call her SJ. I have an agent because I’m an actress and a model. I’ve had one since I was seven. Sarah is my second agent since my first agent, Penelope Anne Hardwicke-Fulton, retired.

I got into acting and modeling by accident when I was five. A local car dealership (Queen City Imports) needed someone to portray the owner’s daughter for a series of commercials. The ad agency posted a casting call with most of the modeling agencies in the Cincinnati area, but none of the girls who showed up appealed to Mr. Salzberg, the owner of the dealership. He wanted someone who had “an abundance of energy, the gift of gab, a natural lisp and curly hair”. He might as well have drawn a police sketch for a girl named Lydia. Finally, in exasperation, he asked his employees if they knew anyone who could play the part, so my neighbor, Brenda Petersen (the mother of my friend Molly), walked into his office and told him about me.

The next evening, Mr. Leo Salzberg rang our doorbell, introduced himself to Mom, and asked to meet Lydia. Not surprisingly, my mother asked what business could he possibly have with her five-year-old daughter? He asked if he could meet me first before going into all the details, because it might not matter once he met me.

My mom called up the stairs, “Wea . . . uh, Lydia. Could you come down here for a minute? There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

“OK, Mom,” I hollered and raced down the steps (I run everywhere I go).

When I got to the bottom step, I stopped and gave the man a quizzical look.

“You wanna meet me, Mithter?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Salzberg nodded as he looked me over. “Yes, I believe I do.”

He put out his hand and I walked over and shook it firmly like my grandpa had always taught me. This seemed to please him a great deal and he laughed. I liked his laugh.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lyndell. I haven’t yet introduced myself.”

Leo Salzberg told Mom his name and that he owned a car dealership in town. He explained that he had been looking for the right child to play the part of his daughter in some commercials and ads but had a very difficult time finding her. He had no daughter of his own.

“I do believe your daughter is the girl I’ve been looking for,” said Mr. Salzberg. “Has she ever done any professional acting?”

“Lydia has never stopped acting since she was born, Mr. Salzberg, but professionally? No, not at all,” Mom said.

“Not a problem, Mrs. Lyndell,” he said. “Could you possibly bring Lydia to the Jackson and Pike Advertising Agency tomorrow? It’s on Third St. by the City Building. Fifth floor. Say, nine o’clock? I’ll be there, too.”

“Is this something you might want to do, Lydia? Acting, I mean?” my mom asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Duth thith mean I can thkip thchool tomorrow?”

Mr. Salzberg really laughed at that one.

“Only in the morning, Lydia,” Mom said. “I’ll take you to school at lunch time.”

“But can we eat at the chili plathe downtown?” I asked. I knew my mom couldn’t resist a lunch at Donley’s Chili Factory.

“We’ll see, honey.”

“How about if I take you both to Donley’s?” asked Mr. Salzberg. “It’s my favorite place to eat. My treat.”

“Well, that’s nice of you, Mr. Salzberg, but I’ll have to let you know tomorrow. I need to see if there’s anything going on at school.”

The next day, I met the people at the ad agency. Nice people. They had a lot of questions for me and read me my part for the ad. I acted it back for them, and they seemed happy enough. Especially Ms. Reichel, the head of the agency. She beamed like car headlights after that. She said I was a natural and could see me acting professionally. Frankly, I was just happy I got to eat at the chili place. I didn’t give it much thought until I got home from school that day.