The Magical Peppers and the Island of Invention. Sian Pattenden
“Ah, I see a vision. An illumination, a fire in a fish tank. Yes, that’s it – flames, rising high, engorging everything in their wake. Trouble, Esmé, trouble. You must be on guard at all times.”
Twinkle abruptly opened her eyes. “There was also something about ‘Thai summer rolls’, but I couldn’t make sense of that.”
Esmé was startled, but as if nothing had happened, Twinkle put the teacup down on the table and shook Esmé’s hand.
“Thank you,” said Twinkle, eyes shining bright. “That was a very intense reading.”
“Now that’s enough of the mystical stuff,” remarked Tabitha. “Let’s get on with fixing those theatre lights.”
“We’d better phone Keith,” said Twinkle, slipping into the back to make the call.
“Keith is our fix-it man,” explained Tabitha. “He’s very talented. He can fix or make just about anything – lights, fuses, entire air-conditioning systems that also emit the smell of patchouli oil. He built us this caravan out of two hundred empty cola cans, half a canoe and some cement.”
“Keith’s on his way to the theatre,” said Twinkle, replacing the receiver. “Let’s head over and meet him there.”
They all left the caravan into the sunshine outside and the three of them walked arm in arm up the pier, passing posters for Potty’s show along the way.
“Our last magic show,” said Tabitha, with a broad sigh.
“Why ‘last’?” asked Esmé.
“Well, the truth is, we may not be in charge of the Sea Spray Theatre much longer,” Twinkle told Esmé. “A local businessman named Mr Portobello is interested in buying it from us. We are relying on him to make a good offer.”
“You’re selling the theatre?”
“Yes,” said Twinkle. Esmé noticed she was wearing tiny satin shoes with pointed toes. “We’ve been running the theatre for thirty years – but it’s a sideline, really, to our more spiritual calling.”
“If Mr Portobello offers us a healthy sum,” said Tabitha brightly, “then we can not only concentrate on the psychic readings but there’s a lovely bungalow on Tide Street that we would very much like to move into – more space, more light, more resonance. The spirits are getting sick of the caravan, there’s not enough room for them. They keep bumping into each other.”
Esmé smiled. She had never met anyone who believed in spirits before, apart from Monty’s dabbling in what he called ‘vibrations’. She was beginning to like the Table sisters very much.
“We tried to sell the Sea Spray last year but Mr Portobello made us such a low offer we had to pull out of the deal,” confided Twinkle. “It was after the famous magician Gary Meringue had been due to perform. People were queuing all the way along the pier to get a ticket…”
“Only he dropped out at the last minute,” revealed Tabitha. “He simply disappeared. Whatever happened we will probably never know. We tried the spirits but they couldn’t tell us either.”
Esmé and the Table sisters arrived at the theatre, walking through the front door in turn. “This is why we need Potty to wow the audience and wow Mr Portobello,” Tabitha confirmed as she stopped to examine the spider plant. “The soil is a bit dry,” she said, then turned to Esmé. “The offer we get rests on Potty’s success.”
“We will do our very best,” said Esmé. “I’m sure that Potty will perform the show of a lifetime. If he can just manage to avoid getting caught up in his fishing net and his props exploding.”
“He must,” said Tabitha, with a serious look.
Esmé and the Table sisters entered the auditorium.
On stage Uncle Potty stood on a ladder with Monty on his shoulders, arms outstretched. The ladder wobbled first left, then right. It wobbled forward, then back.
“Oooph!” said Monty.
“What are you two doing?” Esmé called out. “Be careful! You’ll fall.”
“We thought we’d have a look at the light fitting,” shouted Potty, now extending a long leg outward to balance them both on the wobbling ladder.
“Please, come down now,” urged Esmé. “There won’t be a show if you’re both in hospital.”
“Woooooargh!”
Potty and Monty wobbled on the ladder for the last time and fell in a heap on the floor.
“Oooofph!” exclaimed Monty. Esmé helped Potty up.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Potty rubbed his shin. “I think so. My new cape is slightly padded, so it softened the fall.”
“I’m fine too,” replied Monty who was sitting in a heap on the floor with the seaweed-strewn rubber ring still round his waist.
“Oh, dear,” said Twinkle, gazing with concern at the magician and his assistant on whom all their hopes were riding.
“Hm,” said Tabitha, looking first at them and then at the lights. “I hope Keith can fix this.”
“I have a strong feeling that he will appear shortly,” said Twinkle, her nose twitching. “I am certain I can sense his aura, almost around the corner. Ooh, I feel a little faint.”
She raised a hand to her forehead. Esmé recognised the glazed look in Twinkle’s eyes from her swoon in the gypsy caravan.
“A chair!” squeaked Twinkle. Esmé ran to get one from backstage.
As Twinkle sat down, she closed her eyes and murmured softly, “Keith Chalk, the spirits tell me that you are near…” Her raised hand quivered a little, then with a thud fell on to her lap.
Tabitha opened up her skull ring and read the time from the miniature watch face inside. “Well, you did just call him.”
A split second later Keith Chalk appeared through the main door.
“Keith is here, everyone,” shouted Twinkle. “I knew it.”
An excerpt from
Dr Pompkins – Totality Magic
TRICK: The Vanishing Stamp
A little close-up magic. Start by exclaiming that you can make the Queen disappear! Of course, by that you mean the Queen’s head on a stamp, not the actual Queen…
Place a stamp on a table and a glass tumbler on top of it. Pour water into the glass just over halfway and place a saucer over the glass.
By the miracle of refraction, there is absolutely no way that the stamp can be seen through the glass tumbler.
This is so effective because it is so simple.
Stage Lighting
It’s a good idea to use spotlights if you are performing on stage, but remember that strong lighting can change the appearance of things. Take care with shiny metal apparatus and glossy paint – it may reflect the light and make it difficult to see properly, even with just a desk lamp.
Stage lighting can also affect the way you will look, as it drains the colour from your face. You will look like a ghost unless you wear theatrical make-up. Ask your drama teacher or a nice lady how to use it. Mrs Dr Pompkins does my make-up every time and I look healthy and flushed 24/7.
In all totality,
Dr