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what happened, she said. And it took a long
time to get ahold of my anger. I thought it was
all behind me, but when you came here, and with
Jimmy dying, it all just came rushing back.
It took me all these years to find myself, and
realize that I have a song a real song. And I think
only you can sing it the way it should be sung.
Effie, let me help you, C.C. said, putting his arm
around his sister. Let s do what we always want-
ed to do together.
Effie didn t speak for a long while, just sipped
her club soda. The two of them listened to the jazz
singer riff through My Funny Valentine, a song
Effie used to sing, with her brother accompany-
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ing her on their beat-up, out-of-tune piano. Effie
closed her eyes and listened to the woman bend
and twist her pearly voice around the words. It
was a lovely instrument, that woman s voice, but
Effie imagined blowing a little more smoke into
the bridge, and pulling hard on the words stay,
funny Valentine stay until the stretch moved the
audience to its feet.
I ve waited so long to hear you say that to me,
Effie finally said after she opened her eyes. Say
it again.
Effie, sing my song the way it should be, C.C.
said, leaning in to embrace his sister.
The two of them didn t waste any time getting
into the studio. Marty made the arrangements,
and C.C., still bringing in money from his song-
writer and producer royalties, paid the bill. Effie
did what she did best; she leaned into the micro-
phone, and let loose a voice that was pure honey.
You want all my love and my devotion
You want my loving soul right on the line
I have no doubt that I could love you/forever
The only trouble is you really don t have the time
You ve got one night only
One night only
That s all you have to spare
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One night only
Let s not pretend to care
One night only
One night only
Come on, big baby, come on
C.C. was in the control booth, running the mix-
ing board, taking in the sound of his music his
sister s music. The way he d always imagined he
would.
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NINE
Magic sat next to the radio, listening intently to
her mother s voice in the song. Effie, C.C., and
Ronald watched her, almost as proud of the song
as the little girl was proud of her mother. Magic
snuck a look at Effie, trying to make the connec-
tion between the person she lived with and the
voice she was hearing.
And that was Detroit s own Effie White, for-
merly of the Dreams, with her new hit song, One
Night Only. I tell you, that Effie White is one bad
mama the great voice of the Great Lakes. You
heard it first, right here!
C.C., Effie, and Magic all clapped wildly as the
deejay went to commercial.
While Effie and her family were busy cele-
brating her newfound success, Curtis was back
at Rainbow Records in L.A., listening to a cas-
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sette of One Night Only that Wayne scored
from Nicky Cassaro, who, under Curtis s direc-
tion, was tracking the song s success. His tem-
ple jumped his eyes narrowed like slits as he
turned off the player.
He thinks he s making a fool of me, Curtis
said to Wayne.
Nicky says the record s only got local distri-
bution, black stations mostly. But it s starting to
take off.
If C.C. wrote it, don t I own it? Curtis said,
leaning forward in his seat.
Technically yes, at least until we settle his con-
tract. I ll get the lawyers to draw up a letter and
demand half the royalties.
No. This is the perfect song to launch the new
sound. I want to rerecord it with Deena and the
girls.
Wayne wrinkled his brow; he knew that was
some low-down stuff right there, and for perhaps
the first time in his career as Curtis s flunky, he
didn t hesitate saying it. Come on, Curtis, their
record s already moving.
So what? Curtis said dismissively. If I can
buy a hit, I can buy a flop.
Hey man, this is Effie s big break. There are
other songs, Wayne reasoned.
This is business, Wayne. Now get on it.
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It didn t take them long to get around to knock-
ing off Effie s song. Curtis gave the cassette to his
latest creation, a duo of songwriters out of Philly
known as the Pulley Brothers, whom he d hired
to replace C.C. as the head of Rainbow Records
production staff. The brothers added lush strings
under Deena s much more seductive vocals to
change the song make it more the pop feel Cur-
tis was looking for to take his company s sound in
a different direction.
Okay, we re going to run through it right
quick, Eddie Pulley said into the microphone
from the control booth. I ll play the music so you
can get a taste of the beat, and then Raymond will
work with you on the lyrics.
None of the women recognized the song; they
hadn t heard Effie s version of One Night Only.
Within a week, with Nicky s help, the song was
ready for release, Detroit deejay Elvis Kelly was
driving a shiny new Cadillac, and Deena Jones
and the Dreams hit record, One Night Only,
was playing on the radio. And when the group
exploded onto the spotlight-covered stage at the
massive New York Dance Club, Curtis was smil-
ing down from his perch above the dance floor, a
grin spreading across his face. He knew from the
first note that he d struck show business gold for
the second time.
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That was clear to Effie, C.C., Marty, and even
Magic as they watched their worst nightmare
unfold on Effie s TV screen. They d heard the song
on the radio, and for a minute, a few deejays were
even playing the songs back-to-back, asking call-
ers which version they liked best. But right there,
on the Johnny Carson show, Curtis was winning
the war, one note at a time. Again. Deena, look-
ing ever glamorous in a striking, glittering, silver
floor-length gown, burst ahead of Michelle and
Lorrell, shook her shoulder-length wig, and sang
the words Effie s words.
Magic shot her mother a disappointed, almost
angry look.
I m so sorry, Effie, C.C. said.
Effie squeezed his hand, a gesture that assured
him she didn t blame him for what happened.
Effie had been to the pits of hell chasing her
dream, and had retreated into a hot hole in its
bowels while Curtis dragged everything she d
worked so hard for away from her. This time,
she was strong. Mad as hell, and strong. Because
she knew that no matter what, everyone would
see through this. They would see and know the
kind of snake Curtis was. Effie watched as Magic
moved to her bedroom, where her daughter bur-
ied her face in her pillow, and cried. She knew,
just knew, that her dream of seeing her mom
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make it get out of her long-held funk was
about to be realized. In her eyes, her mother was
finally taking charge finally doing something
to change their lives, get them out of the ghetto.
Be somebody. And now, it was all shattered. The
strength she thought her mother had wasn t real.
She was weak, Magic thought. Incapable of get-
ting it right and saving her from the misery, the
only thing she d ever known in her eight young
years.
And while Magic s tears soaked her pillow,
Deena was backstage in the NBC Studios, snatch-
ing off her wig. Why didn t someone let me
know he was going to ask me about Effie s song?
she demanded of her assistants and the publicist
who d accompanied them to The Tonight Show. No
one answered her. He might as well have accused
us of stealing it!
That s what we did, isn t it? Lorrell muttered.
What did you say? Deena said, reeling around
to face her.
I m just saying, surely you couldn t have
thought that no one would recognize the politics
behind all of this. Effie s song was on the radio,
we took it, rerecorded it, put our version on the
radio, and crushed her. Again. Shoot, that s a TV
show in and of itself better than any soap opera
my ass has ever seen!
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