Lord fretted over these preparations. The plan was that during a live performance, he would move in front of the main drop to perform small-scale magic, engaging members of the audience who briefly left their seats to walk up on the stage. While this was going on Denik and I walked on to the stage, behind the curtain, to lower the massive structure. We would secure it firmly, connect up all the concealed lights, run a brief test to make sure everything was working, then get out of the way to allow Lord to perform his climactic illusion.
We rehearsed it again and again.
During one of our final rehearsals, and entirely without our realizing it, Commis managed to find his way to the rigging loft. He somehow clambered across to where the dummy curtains had been hung behind the proscenium. When the technician threw the switch to change the lighting, suddenly Commis was in full view of the auditorium, apparently now mounted on the top cross-member, a manifestation instead of a disappearance, scampering to and fro like a caged monkey.
Jayr had walked into the auditorium to watch this, and he applauded.
It was the last straw. I marched off the stage, headed towards the office. I wanted to collect my stuff and walk out.
I don’t know how he did it, but Commis climbed down quickly from where he had been and hurried along the corridor behind me. He was still pretending to be a monkey, so he ran with a wide-legged waddle, his knuckles running along the floor.
I did something I was instantly to regret. Halfway along the corridor, I mimed opening an invisible door, passed through it, looked back. As Commis reached the door I slammed it in his face.
To my amazement he reared up in apparent pain and surprise, his face contorted as it collided with the invisible door, he tipped backwards and dropped like a felled tree. He collapsed in a supine position, arms and legs outstretched, completely motionless. For a moment I thought I had really hurt him, until I realized that the blankly staring eyes were the ones that were painted on his lids.
I wished I had not done that! I felt that I had somehow descended to Commis’s level of aggravating playfulness.
I went on to the office and stood there by myself, feeling confused but also angry, still not sure why the mime should provoke me so. After a while Jayr came to find me.
I did not after all walk out of the Teater Sjøkaptein. Jayr was unexpectedly sympathetic, but he explained Commis’s behaviour as the erratic actions of a highly tuned and sensitive artiste and told me I should be more tolerant of theatrical talent. We argued about that. I vented much of the irritation and frustration that had been mounting ever since I became aware of the man.
Finally, Jayr pleaded with me to stay until the end of the coming week, as the backstage work I was doing with the Lord’s apparatus was crucial, and he didn’t know if the technical rehearsals could be completed with someone else in the time that was left.
In the end I agreed and Jayr promised to keep Commis out of my hair. A mental image briefly tormented me: of Commis picking over my scalp with his monkey fingers, in search of salty excretions. I stayed on.
The Lord’s first performance went smoothly. So did the second, and all the rest. Denik and I worked together well. The illusion was achieved every night and at the two midweek matinées.
Lord duly finished his week at the Teater Sjøkaptein and I helped Denik break his set, and carry the pieces of the dismantled frame to his van. The pane of glass was ours to keep, according to contract, and after Lord had departed Jayr and I briefly discussed what to do with it. Our options were few: we could give it away, or try to sell it, break it up and dispose of it, or keep it in the theatre somewhere. Jayr pointed out that we had been playing to almost full houses for most of the week, and if Lord wanted to make a return visit to Omhuuv in the next year or so the theatre would no doubt book him. If so, it would make sense and save time and money to retain the plate glass.
Accordingly, Denik and I put the sheet back into its harness of hemp ropes, and winched it up to the loft above the stage. There it hung, gleaming and deadly, swinging quietly like an immense blade whenever the scenery bay doors were opened and let in the wind.
I was now free to leave, so I packed my belongings, purchased a ticket for the long return journey on the circum-island bus, and then walked back to the theatre to say my farewells.
The conflict with Commis had tended to overshadow my last two or three weeks, and it took a conscious effort of will to appreciate that in fact I had benefited enormously from the experience. Even my negative feelings might one day serve me well, if a career in other theatres became mine. I was painfully aware that I was learning, that I had more to learn, that were still another two years of my course to run at the college in Evllen. Perhaps it was simply that as the least experienced member of the crew I had been subjected to a kind of initiation by the others. Thoughts on parting, probably too late. I still seethed with irritation.
I found Jayr straight away and he thanked me for the help I had given him over the weeks. I responded in the same way, acknowledging my debt to him.
Then I said, ‘Tell me about Commis. What was all that about?’
‘He’s always miming when he’s in costume, or rehearsing. You should have just played along with him.’
‘I did,’ I said. ‘Only a little. How well do you know him?’
‘No more than any of the other acts that come here. He’s been performing at this theatre for several years and has a huge following in the town. We’re almost sold out for next week.’
‘He lives here in the theatre?’
‘He rents a place somewhere on the edge of town, but when he’s performing he moves into the same dressing room — the smallest we have, at the top of the tower. He rarely goes outside the building. You’re about to leave — why don’t you go and see him? Say goodbye. He might even speak to you, if you’re lucky. He’s a different character when he’s not in part.’
‘All right.’
He seemed to make normal everything the weird little mime had done around me. I shook hands with Jayr, thanked him again, then before I could change my mind I ran up the spiral staircase that led to the highest level of the building. I had rarely been to this area in the past. I had done some cleaning of the dressing rooms when I first arrived, but otherwise there was not much need to go up there.
As I clambered up the stairs I could not escape the thought that he would probably realize I was on my way. Sometimes he seemed psychic in his anticipations of me. I half-expected a new trick: Commis would hide somewhere, then leap out on me, pretending to be a large spider, or would mime throwing a net over me, or some other foolishness.
Slightly out of breath from the climb I rapped my knuckles lightly on the door, staring at the shiny star attached to the panel, and the name written neatly on a card beneath it. No answer, so I knocked again. Reasoning that with a silent artiste like Commis it might be wrong to expect a spoken summons, I pushed the door open. Full of apprehension I went inside and switched on the light.
He was not there, so I backed out immediately. I had glimpsed the usual mirror and table, the familiar sticks and cakes of makeup, the folding screen, the costumes hanging on the rack. The only unusual feature of the room was a narrow folding bed, placed along the wall. His outdoor clothes were lying on it.
I switched off the light and closed the door. Then instantly I opened it again. I turned on the light.
His outdoor clothes included a yellow shirt, and bright blue beach shorts. Now I noticed, lying on a chair beside the bed, theatrical disguise: a bushy red beard, a droopy moustache, false eyebrows.