Backstage

The following story is an early preview and will be posted on Tumblr next week. Thank you again for your support.

Attaching the hose to the bag of cola syrup I exited the back of the bar. Raising my hand I shot a thumbs up to Tracey behind the bar to signal that the Coca-Cola supply had been replenished. Granted out stock-in-trade was beer and we were known for our micro-brew ales but we still moved a fair amount of soda pop over a night. Especially on nights when we had entertainment booked, and people arrived more to see the show than to taste the state’s finest wheat ale.

There was a banging on the back door, and I headed to answer it. There stood a well-dressed gentleman with a duffle bag. He wasn’t one of our normal suppliers but based on his time of arrival I had a pretty good guess who he was.

“The Entrancing Edward?” I asked pointing at him. It wasn’t my idea to book a hypnotist, but then again I’ve only been the manager a few weeks now. Between this stage hypnotist and the Hanson cover band that we have coming in next week my predecessor’s entertainment choices continue to puzzle.

When he answered he spoke in an English accent, which was a bit surprising.

“Yes, I am. Thank you again for inviting me to perform, I am looking forward to a great night of entertaining and entrancing your patrons,” he said adding in a theatrical wave of his hand.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Well I’ll take you to the room we use for performers, it’s not much but it’ll be quiet and private until you’re ready to go on. And I’ve had my team go over your list of instructions for how the stage and everything is to be set up and that’s no problem,” I said as I lead him to a small office that was normally used by the bar’s accountant.

“My needs are simple,” he said, “a microphone, an interested audience and a few suggestible victims. I mean guests.”

He winked as he made that joke about victims, one that I’m sure he made with everyone he met. I forced a smile and a chuckle to show that I appreciated his humor.

Handing him my business card I said, “Text me if you need anything and I’ll bring it. A drink, a meal from the kitchen. You’re scheduled for eight, so you have a few hours to kill. If you want to run through a soundcheck let me know and I’ll have my sound guy walk you through everything around six. Doors open at seven.”

He smiled looking at the card, “Delightful, thank you Kelly.”

The next few hours fell back into my usual pattern of preparing for opening. I ran through the schedule with the servers and bartenders, talked to the bouncers who’d be taking tickets at the door and checked with the audio guy to make sure everything was working for our guest.

Then I changed into the plaid shirt and blue jeans that was part of the bar’s unofficial uniform, as we were going for a mix of refined micro-brew and relaxed southern hospitality. At seven the music started playing in the bar and people began to file in. At eight the lights dimmed and the stage lights came up. I went to the microphone and introduced the Entrancing Edward, sounding far more enthusiastic than I felt about him.

Behind me were six chairs, for the volunteers that he seemed to expect to come up during the show. As I finished saying his name he came out from the back of the bar, stepping up on stage next to me and taking the microphone.

“Thank you Kelly. You’ve been so gracious today as my host,” he said, placing a hand on my hip to keep me from walking off the stage. I managed not to frown, but the unexpected physical contact caused me to stiffen slightly.

“I was wondering,” he said into the microphone, “all that running around you do all day do you get a chance to rest and relax?”

He directed the microphone toward me. I smiled, “No, not really. I get to relax at the end of the day.”

He nodded, “Kelly here does so much work to make this place special, I think she deserves to relax. Would you like to relax Kelly?”

I shook my head, “I’ve got stuff to do.”

I didn’t really, but I also did not want to be on stage any longer.

He began to sway his body, and mine, from side to side in a slow steady pattern.

“That’s fine Kelly, just do me one more favor, okay and then you’re hosting duties are done,” he said.

“Fine,” I said, my voice now showing the annoyance.

“Just hold your hand out in front of your face and look at your palm,” he said.

“Sure,” I said into the microphone as he held it towards me. I extended my right hand, the one furthest from him and looked at the palm.

“Now Kelly, as you look at the palm you can just relax for a moment, looking at your palm, is easy. Just notice the lines on your hand, leading your eyes and focus on those. Relax a bit as you see your hand and feel it being drawn towards you now. As you look at your hand it’s growing larger, growing closer as you focus on it,” he said.

I studied how the creases in my hand moved across the surface of my palm and did notice my hand getting closer. That made it easier to see the creases, to see the lines and to let the hand get closer as I finally got to take a deep breath and relax. I blocked out what the Entrancing Edward was saying so I could focus better, and he was talking about how heavy I was feeling anyway. It wasn’t worth paying attention to as my hand floated closer to my face.

Suddenly I felt him grab my arm and yank it towards him as he yelled “Sleep!”

I relaxed and slept.

When I woke up I was sitting on one of the chairs on stage. I was a little confused by that, and about when the rest had filled up. Still, I sat there patiently, surprised to realize that Elvis was sitting next to me. I screamed in excitement, not that I’m a huge Elvis fan but come on you don’t see Elvis every day.

Then I was Elvis, which of course I am Elvis. I did have to prove it by dancing around to my classic songs, which seemed to excite the audience. I was about to show them more when I had to go sit down and sleep.

After the show back in the office that The Entrancing Edward was using as a change room, I grinned at him, “I have to admit that was more fun than I expected.”

He smiled, “You thought it was all fake, I know. I could tell. I do have one other thing you could help me with though.”

“Oh, what is it?” I asked.

“I need a place to stay the night. I didn’t book a motel room in town, I usually like to stay with a female admirer,” he explained.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate,” I said.

“Kelly invite me to stay with you,” he said and then snapped his fingers.

“Edward please stay with me,” I said, happy to be able to offer him a place to sleep.

He smiled, “Good Girl. Now Kelly undress for me, I want to see what I’ll be playing with tonight.”
I was about to shout at him when his fingers snapped again. My jeans were off quickly, kicked to a corner of the room. Then my hands started on my plaid top, eager to obey.