Can a five-year-old fall in love?  I did. With Yul Brynner.

It was 1956, and he was the lead in The King and I. I was a giddy kindergartener promised an afternoon adventure to see his film. My first. It was the beginning of a very short crush on Brynner and a lifetime romance with the world of cinema.

I couldn’t sleep the night before. As a very curious, anxious and imaginative child, I was just too excited. I got out of bed and wiggled my way into conversation with Betty, my nanny. She put me back under the covers.  Again. I escaped. Finally, her firm hand insisted, “if one more time,” I was not going anywhere other than my room. With a lullaby and goodnight kiss, I slipped into the abyss. Her threat did the trick.

I awoke to the usual Beverly Hills sunshine. It was going to be a magical day. I ran to my parents’ bedroom, knocked twice, (a rule) and heard my mother’s soft voice invite me in. She smiled as I gave her a hug and a kiss. She was beautiful. And not just to me. Sprinkles of premature silver tinged her midnight black hair, and her cheek bones popped like Katherine Hepburn. ‘Elegant’ was too simple a word to describe her presence.

My father, The Duke, sat up in bed. He had broad shoulders and a bald, distinctive head. His piercing blue eyes hid behind dark rimmed glasses. I considered him intimidating and very old, but at the time he was only 46 –  a young, vigorous, director and producer.

I got on the bed and snuggled between them. They told me of the Broadway show of The King and I, and some of the plot. I was too excited to listen.  Good thing, for the mystery of the day would have been ruined.

My mother slipped me into a petty coat and pulled a white dress with green embroidery over my long, curly red hair.  In that moment, and not many others, I felt pretty. And, better yet, it was going to be my day. No sisters. Just me, my mom and her friend, Sinny.

Sinny was the wife of a well-known athlete. I didn’t like him. Even at five, I remember thinking he was creepy. But she was a masterpiece. Tall, tanned, and chic with a thick mane of chestnut hair and a huge blond streak right in front. She always wore a light air of Chanel Number 5. No surprise, today I do too.

We three got into the Ford Station wagon and headed toward Sunset Boulevard. We turned left on Fountain Avenue and onto Hollywood Boulevard, straight to the famous Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. It looked like a pagoda trimmed in red and gold.  The pavement out front shimmered with famous people’s feet and handprints.  I stopped at each one to see if my tiny ones filled any. But they only fit in Shirley Temple’s. My smile began to hurt.

“Come on, Miss Jenn.” My mom echoed. “It’s time to go inside.”

I ran between my wonderful companions and held their hands as they swung me through the doors of the theatre. Nothing could have prepared me for the opulence. I stared way up.  So far back my neck ached. The ceiling reached a thousand feet high. Serpents and exotic animals danced across it.

We made our way down the aisle and took our seats right near the front. The lights dimmed. The audience hushed. The heavy, burgundy curtains open slowly to reveal a gigantic white screen. The Twentieth Century Fox Logo came up. Then, my mouth agape, The King and I rolled.

I sat on the tip of my seat and held my breath until the last scene. The music, the costumes, the children, his majesty. And Anna with, just like me, red hair! No one could have prepared me for the ending: The King, lying on his bed with his servants, children, Anna and her son by his side to say goodbye. Why? I couldn’t understand. Then, he closed his eyes and died. People die? Why was I being subjected to this? I sobbed.  I couldn’t stop. I believed it was real. Too real. My mother tenderly assured me otherwise. It didn’t stop my tears.

We walked back to the parking lot. My freckled face was a crater of devastation. I fell asleep in the backseat fantasizing about The King’s outstretched hand – to reach, to touch  and lock with mine. To hold me in his strong arms and say, “Little one, shall we dance?”