The Magnificent Merlin

From the dressing room, I could hear boos from the audience. The door opened and Len, the comedian, came in; he slumped wearily in a chair.

“Tough crowd,” he said quietly. He grinned.

“You will have to pull something out of the bag!”

I smiled as if I had never heard that before.

“There’s a group of them. They’ve all been drinking, men and women, old enough to know better. They are heckling, but when the manager appears, they quiet down, and he’s reluctant to make a scene. I’m off across the road for a pint. Good luck, mate! You’ll need it!”

I finished applying my make-up and checked my props. My second assistant, Tracey, came in.

She looked nervous, on the verge of tears. My first assistant, Lisa, was calmer. She had dealt with rowdy customers before.

“Rough crowd,” said Tracey and she chewed despondently on a fingernail. I was grateful for Lisa’s steadying presence.

Luck had never served me well over the years but ability had.

“Don’t worry, Tracey,” replied Lisa.  Lisa had been my assistant for longer but the two worked well together. Although slightly taller, Lisa was as energetic and flexible as Tracey, qualities which stood them in good stead as they had to squeeze into small spaces.

“Ready, boss?” enquired Lisa.

I nodded and the three of us picked up the small props that I kept in my dressing room. The larger props were already onstage.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present The Magnificent Merlin!” Our MC smiled and whispered, “Good luck!” I was confident in my abilities and determined not to depend on luck. Luck had never served me well over the years but ability had.

Most people think that is my stage name but Merlin is my real name and although I present myself as a magician, I am more than that as Arthur would attest. I have lived for many hundreds of years and even my two girls do not know my secret. Hiding in plain sight is a cover against my enemies who have tracked me down the centuries.

 As we appeared, there were grumbles from the audience; magic is not as popular these days and audiences are less credulous than in previous centuries.  I did the usual card tricks with the help of a member of the audience.

Then came the larger tricks, Lisa disappearing from a cabinet and appearing again at the back of the theatre, but I could sense the restlessness.

When we did the sawing of the woman in half, a boozy male voice shouted, “There are two girls, that’s how it’s done!”

Did they really think that I should saw a woman in half just for their amusement?

Then the drunken group began to chant, “Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!”

The rest of the audience looked embarrassed and the manager appeared, but I held up a placatory hand.

 “You, sir,” and I pointed at the ringleader. “Perhaps you’d like to help me with my next trick.”

He gazed around drunkenly and then focused on me.

 He grinned, “No problem, mate,” and staggered up to the stage. He stood there, swaying slightly.

By this time the audience were whistling and cheering. Even the man’s wife joined in.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yeh,” he slurred. “Do your worst.”

I picked up my magic wand and softly intoned, “Miniaturise.”

 The man slowly began to shrink. He gazed at his diminishing figure in dismay and shouted,

“What did you do?” as his voice tapered off to a squeak.

“I did ask if you were ready,” I said. I picked him up by the scruff of the neck and dropped him into a white bag. All the time he was protesting but only I could hear him. By this time the audience were whistling and cheering. Even the man’s wife joined in.

“Well,” I smiled. “That’s cut him down to size!” and the audience cheered.

I waved my wand again and produced a white rabbit from the bag.

“Great!” said his wife. “The kids always wanted a rabbit!” and there were good-natured laughs from the rest of the audience.

I thanked them and with a final bow left the stage, with the rabbit once again in the bag.

In my dressing room I freed the rabbit. It looked at me and said,” You can’t leave me like this! Please turn me back!”

“I could leave you like this,” I said as I leisurely removed my make-up.

“Please, help me!” he pleaded.

“I will, on one condition, that you and your rowdy gang never come back to this theatre.”

He nodded and I turned him back into a sober version of himself. He scuttled off and I was sure that even if he did tell anyone, no one would believe him.

Len put his head round the door.

“Did you manage to pull something out the bag?” he asked.

“Yes, I think you could say I did.”

NorthernLife Sep/Oct/Nov 24