the pure embodiment of hurt . . . and only she was
too blind to see it. But there wasn’t even a minute
of the subsequent breakdowns and breakthroughs—
nothing that might have redeemed her in the eyes of
the viewing public.
“God help me,” Audra muttered. “Please . . .”
But if the prayer were granted, His help appeared
in a form Audra could not recognize. The show
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continued, marching through the healing process,
the gym workouts, the slow transformation of Au-
dra Marks, punctuated every so often by the narra-
tor’s comments, pointing out the obvious: Audra’s
skin seemed a little lighter, a little brighter, in every
scene . . . right down to the dramatic Reveal, where
Audra kicked and strutted and simpered and
pranced—and seemed just as self-centered and ob-
noxious as any pretty woman she’d ever disliked in
her fat, black and ugly days.
“For all Audra’s difficulties with relationships
with men in the past, it appears that there is some
possibility of a new romance on the horizon,”
Camilla Jejune narrated in a voice filled with high
drama, as Audra rushed into Art’s arms at the Re-
veal and some sappy music played. But at least in
that one brief scene, Audra seemed like a real hu-
man being, and not some kind of—of—
Character.
The realization hit her high and hard with its
truth . . . because for a good deal of the whole Ugly
Duckling experience—indeed, for a good deal of
her life—that’s exactly what she’d been doing. Play-
ing a character, a larger-than-life version of someone
she hardly knew—someone who didn’t really exist
at all.
“Wait a minute . . .” Audra stared at the screen, as
the thing that had been niggling in the back of her
mind for weeks took form and grew. “Wait a
minute!” she shouted over Edith’s continued curs-
ing. “That’s not right. That’s not how it happened.
The order is wrong.” She turned to her mother. “I’d
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already had the surgery when you told me that. Re-
member?”
“Oh they just got us all messed up on here,”
Edith declared. “All messed up! They make it
sound like you set out to turn yourself into—into—
some kind of white girl! Somebody get me
my switchblade—”
On the screen in front of them, Camilla Jejune was
explaining the rules of the voting for Top Three.
“Give me the remote,” Audra demanded and once it
was in her hand, she stopped the video tape they’d
been recording and hit rewind.
There it was again, herself, talking to her mother,
being told about her paternity . . .
“Ma! Look!” she pointed at the screen. “There’s
no bandages!”
“No . . .” her mother said slowly.
“But you didn’t tell me until after the surgery.”
“Well, I tried to call,” Edith said angrily. “We al-
ready been through all that. Shamiyah said she
couldn’t reach you, and then you was too out of it to
take any phone calls. She didn’t call me and tell me
you were ready ’til damn near a week later—”
“When there were bandages all over my face and
body. They’ve done some major editing here,” Au-
dra announced, her own anger sharpening. “They’ve
switched it all around to suit the story they wanted
to tell—”
“I don’t understand,” Penny interjected.
“Audra’s saying Shamiyah didn’t want Ms. Edith
to talk to her before the surgery,” Art explained.
“You bet she didn’t.” Audra grabbed the phone,
dialing the numbers from memory. “Because she
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
347
knew if I talked to Ma, I’d back out! She knew I’d
call the whole thing off and she wouldn’t have a
show—” She stopped short as the ringing sound
from the phone at her ear was replaced by a familiar
voice.
“Audra! Woman of the hour!” Shamiyah sounded
breathless and excited. “My phone has been ringing
off the hook. You saw the show, right? Didn’t you
just love it?”
“No, I didn’t love it, Shamiyah!” Audra snapped.
“It’s bad enough that you made me look like some
kind of self-hating color-struck freak.” Audra let her
voice rise with the word. “But—”
Edith snatched the phone out of her hand. “You
lying little bitch! I’m gonna cut you from your ears to
where the sun don’t shine—”
Audra grabbed the phone away from her mother.
“You asked me to talk about the man I thought
was my father, that he thought I was ugly . . . and I
did. But you promised not to go any deeper than
that. You promised not to tell the whole world about
my mother’s—”
“She consented to the release of the phone call,
Audra,” Shamiyah said as though that were the
only consideration. “I have the paperwork right
here.”
“But—”
“Look, Audra, it was an important part of your
story. We couldn’t leave it out. Not when it’s so com-
pelling and—” There was a break in the line as an-
other call rolled Audra’s line. “You should probably
get that. I told you earlier that we’ve been getting re-
quests from all kinds of media. All the morning
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Karyn Langhorne
shows want to interview you and Dr. Goddard. To
talk more about color consciousness in the black
community and—”
“I’m not answering that damned phone,” Audra
snapped. “I don’t want to talk about color con-
sciousness in the black community. I don’t want to
be on the morning shows or—”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to, Audra,”
Shamiyah said in a voice that had more than a little
of Camilla’s hard edge to it. “I’m sorry, but you’ve
got a contract with this show . . . and it includes par-
ticipating in show promotion. These interviews are
the perfect lead in to the Big Reveal in two weeks.”
She paused, her voice becoming steely with deter-
mination. “And you will do them.”
“And if I won’t?”
“Well,” Shamiyah dropped any pretense of the
enthusiastic, bubbly woman Audra had come to as-
sociate with her name. “I think you can expect some
serious legal consequences. Not the least of which
might be the bill for all the professional services
you’ve received, gratis, from Ugly Duckling. Last I
heard, the tally was close to two hundred thousand
dollars in surgeries and consultations, airfare,
lodging—”
“Those papers I signed can’t be any good!” Audra
shouted. “You manipulated me! You talked me
into—”
“Nobody talked you into anything,” Shamiyah
snapped back. “You were all too eager to do it. You
were the one calling herself fat, black and ugly . . .
and when we offered you the chance to be some-
thing else, you jumped on it like a crack addict to a
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
349
pipe. If you’d had even a little of the self-respect
you’re claiming we took, you’d have done what the
others did and refuse to have anything to do with
the whole thing—”
“Others?” Audra frowned into the telephone.
“What are you talking about . . . others? I thought
out of all the tapes, I was your pick. I thought you
wanted me because I was the perfect messenger—”
Shamiyah’s laughter echoed around her as
though piped in by speakers and amplified to the
point of pain.
“Oh, Audra, Audra,” she chuckled. “The perfect
messenger is anyone willing to deliver the message.
We’ve been looking for an African-American
woman willing to do the skin lightening procedure
since last season. We must have flown two dozen
women out, put them through the same procedures,
offered them the same arguments—and all of them
refused. They had too much pride in what they
were: strong, black women.” She sighed with the
memory. “Camilla was ready to scrap the whole
thing, but it was my concept, my idea, and I wasn’t
going to give up that easily!” she said vehemently.
“By that time, my job was on the line and I knew if
I didn’t get someone to sign on, Camilla would fire
me, bad-mouth me in the industry and my televi-
sion career would be finished.” She paused. “And
then you came along . . . and saved my life. Do you
realize already this show has had more buzz than
all the prior episodes of Ugly Duckling put together?
With all the press this episode’s getting, we’re an-
ticipating the Big Reveal to have a shot at being one
of the most watched events on television this sea-
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Karyn Langhorne
son. And that’s because of you, Audra. You’ve made
my career—I’ve been pitching this success around
town and I may even get my own show out of it,
thanks to the controversy and the media exposure.
Hell, I don’t know what you’re complaining for:
You’ve got a good chance to walk away with the
grand prize.”
“What?”
“Aren’t you watching? The votes are in. You just
made Top Three! Congratulations—”
“I don’t want it.”
“Well you got it. See you in three weeks,”
Shamiyah said calmly. “And Audra, don’t even
think about skipping the interviews or not showing
up for the Big Reveal. You’ll be on the Today show
and the others tomorrow. You’ll do the interviews
and, when the time comes, you’ll get on that plane
to join us for the Big Reveal, Audra . . . or there will
be legal hell to pay, I promise you.”
“But—”
“Ciao,” Shamiyah said brightly and hung up be-
fore Audra could say another word.
“We’ll just have to bust up that contract,” Edith was
saying for the thousandth time.
The last of the guests were long gone, slinking out
in embarrassment for Audra, Edith and the whole
situation. Penny had escorted Kiana to bed with the
promise of a story and now Edith and Art joined
Audra in the kitchen, as she tried to sort through her
options.
Audra sighed, feeling as though a big steel cage
had been dropped over her head, windowless and
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
351
without air enough to breathe. She wanted to protest,
to argue, but mad as she was at Shamiyah, she knew
well there was no one to rave her fury against but
herself.
They’d had to turn off all the phones, since
they were ringing incessantly—and not with well-
wishers. It seemed every angry black person in the
five boroughs of New York had looked up their
number and decided to call. Although there was se-
curity in the building, Audra was grateful for Art’s
presence: There were certainly more than enough
crackpots in the city to make it possible for one or
two to attempt to express their anger in person.
So this was the concept, the concept Shamiyah had
been so vague on from the beginning: a dramatic
makeover show about a black woman who wanted to
look white. And with a little tweaking and twisting
of the facts, the girl had definitely accomplished her
goal: Here stood one Audra Marks, once a dark-
skinned woman, now a light-skinned one. And the
complex personal reasons for that transformation
had been completely eliminated, painted over in
simple black-and-white.
“We can talk to a lawyer, but . . .” Audra shook
her head and sighed. For the first time in months,
she longed for an Oreo, could almost taste its
creamy goodness on her tongue. “I’m not opti-
mistic.”
“Why not? What she did was out-and-out fraud.”
Audra shook her head. “I don’t think so. And be-
sides, we all signed the releases. That allows them to
use what we said to each other pretty much any way
they want.”
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Karyn Langhorne
lawyer in Manhattan says it,” she declared. “And
you’re certainly not going back out there.”
“I may have to,” Audra muttered, staring at her
perfect caramel arms, one folded against the other
on her chest. Although she had stopped using the
cream months ago, the color remained smooth and
even, since she’d taken Dr. Jamison’s advice and re-
mained vigilant about the sun. “Just like I’m going
to have to do these interviews—”
“But Audra, why? They just going to make a fool
of you again!” Edith said. “These TV people. All
they care about is themselves and their ratings and
making money. They don’t care who they hurt or
what happens to them after the cameras stop
rolling. It’s all about the—what was the word that
girl used? The concept. It’s all about the concept.”
Audra frowned, the beginnings of an idea tick-
ling the back of her brain. Her mother stopped
short, peering closely at Audra’s face.
“Why do you look like that all of the sudden?” she
asked. “What—”
“Ma, do you think you can get this hair weave out?”
“I’m sure I can!” Edith sounded indignant. “You
think that Ishti’s that much better than me? It’s just a
matter of what the clientele can afford—”
But Audra wasn’t listening, she was too busy dig-
ging into the pantry.
“What are you—”
“The Ye
llow Pages,” Audra said quickly. “Here
they are. I need to find out where the nearest tan-
ning booth is—” She looked up quickly. “Art, I need
you to do something for me.”
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
353
“Anything.”
“Oreos, please . . . and some soda—”
“But Audra, your diet!” Penny interrupted.
“You’ll wreck it!”
“Exactly,” Audra said, grinning into their puzzled
faces. “Exactly.”
It took a while . . . but little by little, understand-
ing dawned on each of their faces. Art’s booming
laughter filled the kitchen.
“You’re a piece of work, Audra Marks . . . a piece
of work!”
“Well . . .” Audra said slyly. “I was just thinking . . .
This whole concept thing . . . it could cut both ways.
And as long as they get their ratings, I can’t see what
difference it should make to the Ugly Duckling peo-
ple. And I’m in the mood to fight fire with fire. But”—
she cautioned them with a finger—“we’ll have to be
careful. It can’t be obvious what I’m doing. And we
don’t want it to be. Not until the Reveal.”
Edith blinked at her, then a slow grin spread
across her lined face. “Oh, I like the sound of this!
You’re gonna undo it, aren’t you! That’s a great
idea.”
Audra shook her head. “No, Ma. I can’t undo it. I
can’t undo the surgery . . . and I can’t get my old col-
oring back. My skin . . . it might be pretty messed
up. In fact, I may even look worse than I did before.
But I’d rather be that than a slave to someone else’s
vision.”
“You—you’re gonna go back? You’re going to go
out in front of millions of people looking worse than
you used to look?” Penny asked, staring at Audra,
her mouth slack with surprise.
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Karyn Langhorne
Audra fixed the girl with a calm stare. “That’s
right.” She stretched her hand toward the girl. “But I
hope we’ll still be friends, Penny. I’d like to think
you could like me . . . even if I’m not pretty any-
more.”
Penny stared at Audra, her brow crinkled as she
weighed the question. Then a slow smile spread
across her face. “You’re brave, Audra. You’re the
bravest woman I know. I think I know why Dad
likes you so much.” She crossed the room and
hugged Audra tightly. “And I hope I’m just like you
when I’m old.”