Margaret Ann’s hand descended back into the box. Then she briefly waived a folded piece of paper she pulled out from between Colleen Moore and Mildred Davis paper cutouts. Even with such a brief glimpse, I could tell by the paper’s colorful round red and yellow logo that it was the Pacific Electric’s train schedule. Grinning Margaret Ann slid the paper firmly between the Silver Screen’s pages and shut the magazine up tight.

            “There’s a new stop Elora, and it’s not far - practically next door - at Charter Oak,” Margaret Ann whispered as we quickly walked down the hall, through the kitchen, and out the back door careful not to let the screen door slam shut. She still had my precious magazine in hand, and less notice the better. Besides we needed privacy to lay out plans.

            We stepped across the wooden porch and out into the bright spring day. Even though it was still early, the California sun was already at work warming things up.  Next week was Easter vacation and Margaret Ann and I would have time to do things and go places that could only be done during school vacations. We walked swiftly and with our heads down so if we passed anyone we could pretend not to notice them, and so hopefully no one would ask what was in Margaret Ann’s hand. We headed out past the end of the backyard and out through the dirt lane that led to groves.  Both our fathers owned orange groves and shared a dirt work lane between the two properties. Bordering each side of the road was a shallow network of irrigation trenches and gullies for the trees that rose up in orderly green colonnades on each side. Our walk down the road was quiet, with no sign of anyone, including even Monte who loved to trail us.

            We were headed for a spot just after the groves ended, a natural slope too steep and rocky to be good for growing orange trees, but just right for us to sit and talk. We took one last look behind us when we arrived just to make sure the coast was clear, and then sat down on our favorite big flat rock.  

            “It’s so dandy, them opening this new station. ‘Cause who’d ever think of noticing us getting on the Red Car heading towards Los Angeles, by going backwards first? Plus I bet there aren’t many folk at that new stop anyways.” Margaret Anne’s eyes were all lit up the way she does when she gets her ideas.

            I began to wonder if it would end up being one of those trips that was better in the planning, than in the happening stage. I already had first-hand experience with some of those, and no experience in traveling solo into Los Angeles.  But for a long time we both wanted to see a movie in a real fancy movie theater, not just the little plain one where we watched movies in downtown Covina. Instead the real big ones with fancy seats and lots of scrolly architecture decorations inside and out. The kind we saw in the news and movie magazines, where the actual movie stars would come to the movie premiers and folk would line up along the streets. The Pacific Electric’s red trolley cars went into Los Angeles every day, so the idea had some merit.   

            “How do we know where and when to go? Los Angeles is an awfully big place, you know” I asked.

            “Oh, but there must be street signs and such. We can just get the address for the theaters from our movie magazine and then take the right Red Car route. There have to be lots of stops for such important places.” 

            Well, when I thought of all the folk lining the street in the movie premier pictures, it wasn’t hard to imagine lots of them needing Pacific Electric Red Cars to get there. And since Margaret Ann and I only wanted to get there on a weekday, not during a big fancy movie premier, there should still be lots of seats in the move theatre for us, I figured.

            “Alright, let’s look up the ads for the nifty Egyptian theater, and oh, the new El Capitan Theatre, and see if we can figure what routes go there. Hand me my magazine Margaret Ann.”

            I could tell Margaret Ann didn’t especially like me mentioning the Silver Screen was my magazine, but she handed it over after pulling out the Pacific Electric schedule and keeping that in hand. The Silver Screen magazine had much of their pages focused on New York folk and movies, but there were lots of Hollywood and Los Angeles bits and pieces too. And sure enough, there was a grand ad for the newly opening El Capitan Theatre, as well as my very favorite, the one-and-only Egyptian theater in Los Angeles. But when I really sat and read the advertisements the odd thing was, there didn’t seem to be too much in the way of addresses or even directions. I guess they thought that they were so famous that they didn’t need to bother to let folk know all the details.

            “That’s a puzzle Margaret Ann. How are we to know exactly which route to take and what to stop to get off? You know there are Red Car routes go all over the place.” I spread my arms wide to the blue sky in emphasis. 

            “Hey, everybody loves movies, I bet lots of folks know how to get there, we can just ask someone when we get to Los Angeles, that’s all”, said Margaret Ann.

             It was like, pffft, my worries were silly nothings. And then she was on to talking about making sure we didn’t go on Monday in case the theaters are closed on Mondays like libraries...  and then Friday would be Good Friday, so that day was a no-go. Tuesday and Wednesday she’d have to stay home to help her mother with something or other, and so the upshot was that we would leave on Thursday. Fortunately for me Thursday was fine too, not that Margaret Ann had bothered to get any input from me.

            I wasn’t too sure that our plans were anywhere near what my grandmother would call prudent. But I looked down at the full-page ad for the Egyptian theatre, so exotic and different from anything I’d ever seen, and thought of a whole week ahead with no school and being stuck in humdrum little old Covina and sighed. So while it sounded not like good plan, or much of a plan at all, I was hooked.

            “8:46 AM, the Pacific Electric schedule says for the Charter Oak Station stop. Remember that Elora. Next Thursday. And we’ll have to leave here much earlier than that to walk to the Charter Oak station. Oh, it should be so grand and exciting!”

            I didn’t even need to look up from the Silver Screen magazine in my lap to know that Margaret Ann was smiling her pleased-as-punch smile. She loved adventures and didn’t much care or ponder the details unless she had to. At least we both knew where to find the Charter Oak station, about a mile and a half the opposite direction from Los Angeles. We’d be spending a lot of time in the Red Cars that day. There’d been no mention from Margaret Ann about paying for our train rides. I knew I would have to be the one to ask about that.

            “How much money do you have Margaret Ann? There will be a need for paying for the Red Cars and the movie tickets. You have enough? ‘Cause you often seem mighty short on cash.”

            “Well, I was going to talk with you a bit about that. I have enough money for a movie ticket. I’d been saving my birthday money for something super special like this.”

            There was a slight pause, and then she continued on with her chin held a bit higher than normal, “But, I think that since the Pacific Electric schedule is mine, and the idea is mine, plus that I’ve been storing your Silver Screen movie magazine for weeks now at no charge at all, that it is proper trade if you just pay my Red Car fare. You know you’d never go without my doing all this. So it’s quite reasonable as I see it. “

            “As you see it? Why you like having the Silver Screen under your bed! Don’t tell me otherwise. And you didn’t pay any money for the Pacific Electric schedule. I bet you hooked it from one of your older brothers. And of course you didn’t pay any money for the idea! And I bet you wouldn’t even go without me.” Although I did not know that last part for a fact. But I was truly vexed. Margaret Ann had a way of doing that to me.  

            “Well if that’s the way you feel, just try bringing that magazine home with you and see how long it lasts before your mother or grandmother sees it and out it goes along with most of your freedom for Easter Vacation.”  She stood up and looked ready to leave the spot with her shoulders tucked back in a dramatically noble gesture. I was too made to try and sort out what movie scene that stance was copied from, and think of my next words. Margaret Ann was all too right about the Silver Screen not likely to go unseen at my house even if I tried hiding it, and not only would I be likely to end up being put on house restriction the whole vacation week, but I would also feel badly I’d disappointed my grandmother who thought ill of the “unseemliness” of the movie industry.

            Plus, every week I got an allowance and Margaret Ann did not. A fact she knew all too well. With so many young Morton offspring all around, I think her folks gave up on keeping track of allowances before she was even born, so cash on hand for her was hard to come by.

            While it didn’t seem an even a deal to me, she did have a point. I looked back down at the Silver Screen magazine in my lap. Still gazing down at the picture of the Egyptian theater, “Okay, it doesn’t seem 100% right to me, but okay. Remember though, you are going to be paying for you own movie ticket. Not me.”

            “Pinky-swear.” Said Margaret Ann. She put her shoulders back to normal and headed the two steps over to where I sat. Then in a loud solemn voice, “I want us to pinky-swear that you will pay for my Red Car train fare, and I will promise to pay for my own movie ticket on our – and she paused to look around to make sure we were still alone – Los Angels movie adventure.”

            “All right, I will pay for you Red Car fare, for going to Los Angeles on that one day only.”

            I wanted to make sure to add that part at the end or else Margaret Ann could someday take that sworn promise and turn it into something else altogether. Margaret Ann’s eyes met mine as she nodded in somber agreement. I stood up so we could make our pinkie-fingers curve together to make a pinkie-handshake and our agreement official.

            So we were going to head out see to a wonderful Los Angles theaters next week by taking the Pacific Electric train into Los Angeles. Something neither of us had ever done alone.  It would be a dandy adventure, or so I told myself ignoring the host of butterflies in my stomach.  

See Voices 21 for Valentino's Day.