"I was here last year when he performed. You weren't with him then?"
"He's my uncle," I revealed. "I recently joined him on the road."
"Oh. Are you a magician and hypnotist. too?"
"No, hardly. I don't do anything magical," I said dryly.
He stepped more into the light, and I saw he had the most strikingly black pearl eyes, a tight firm jaw, and a perfectly straight nose. Why was he backstage? I wondered. He could be a movie star. "How long have you been a stagehand?"
"My dad owns this theater," he said. "I've been here since I was ten. I'm not a stagehand, by the way. I'm the stage manager. I run it all. Dad's semiretired. Right now, he's off deep-sea fishing with friends, in fact. Your uncle's sold-out tonight."
"That's wonderful."
"Yeah. He's nearly sold-out for tomorrow night, too. If it goes well tonight. I'm sure he will be. My name's Russell. Russell Blackman." he said, offering his hand. I shook it quickly.
"I'm April Taylor."
"Hey!" he screamed at a man pulling up a scrim. "Go easy with that. It's tight. You could rip it."
The man slowed down quickly.
"It's hard to get good help for something like this. Half the time. I'd rather bring in high school kids who are at least excited about being backstage." He peered at me a little harder. "How old are you. April?"
"I'm eighteen," I lied. "nu just taking some time off to decide what I want to do."
"Yeah, good idea. Well, it's almost show time. If you get bored afterward, stop by my office. It's back there." he said, pointing toward the stage right wing. "Kind of a second home to me these days. I usually like to wind down for a few hours after a theatrical evening, order in a pizza. It's something I learned from my father. You have to relax after a night like this. Hey!" he screamed at someone else. "Tighten that floodlight. I can see from here that it's too loose." He shook his head. "The theater. Except for my cashier and my bookkeeper. I've far more turnover than the front wheels on a race car. See you," he said, and walked off.
Why would he invite me backstage? I wondered. I was probably too deep in the shadows for him to see what I really looked like.
I hurried out to the audience to take my seat and watch the show. It was much like the previous show, only Uncle Palaver added some additional and more spectacular tricks, the most amazing being levitating himself. He used Destiny, of course, and to the audience, the doll somehow was the one causing him to lift slowly off the stage floor and hover in midair. She raised her right arm slowly, and he moved upward along with it. When she brought it down, he came down. The audience applauded loudly, and I heard people asking each other how he could do that.
The great finish with the mock argument brought the audience to their feet again. I clapped harder than some of the members of the audience. and I knew how he did it. There was something about stepping out of reality and into the world of illusion that was so comforting and easy for me. I belong with him, I thought. I really do.It's in my blood as much as his, perhaps.
Afterward. I helped him gather up his things to bring back to the motor home. He carried Destiny in and put her back in the bedroom.
"Well," he said. returning. "I guess we did all right tonight. Maybe we'll sell out tomorrow's performance."
"Russell thinks you will," I told him.
"Russell? Oh, the owner's kid. Yeah. You want something to eat?"
I thought about Russell's invitation. "I was invited to have some pizza backstage," I said.
Uncle Palaver looked surprised. "Oh. really. That's nice. Mingle with the theater people, and get a feel for it. I used to do that a lot, but with Destiny's condition and all. I don't go anywhere usually. Go ahead. Don't stay out too late." he said. "I'm just going to relax a bit myself, describe the show to Destiny. She loves hearing about it."
He went to the cabinet above the sink and took out a full bottle of bourbon. I saw he had two more as well.
"We'll practice the big finish tomorrow," he added, and went to the bedroom.
I hesitated, wondering if I should go backstage. Was that just politeness, or did Russell Blackman really mean it? It could be very embarrassing. I thought. I stepped out of the motor home and walked slowly through the warm evening. The excitement of the show, the wonderful reception Uncle Palaver had gotten, and his amazing performance filled me with hope. I could really become part of all this. I thought. I suddenly had a thirst for knowledge about the theater. I wanted to learn as much as I could as fast as I was able to, so I could impress Uncle Palaver and become truly an integral part of his act. Who knew? Maybe I could become a magician alongside him. It would be a real family show. Wouldn't Mama have been amazed?
There was no one backstage when I stepped into the theater through the rear door. The only light there was came from the emergency lights above exit doors. actually. I made my way across the stage to the stage-right wing, where I heard some music coming from a room toward the rear. The door was slightly opened. The sound of a girl's laugh made me pause. Then I heard Russell cry. "Terrific!"
I stepped up to the doorway and saw him sprawled on a sofa. An open pizza box was on the table before him with a six-pack of beer. A tall, thin blond-haired girl in a white halter and knee- length skirt was pouring a glass of beer. She was leaning against the desk. Russell saw me and sat up quickly.
"Hey. April, come in. This is Palaver's niece," he told the girl. She looked at me and smiled. "My cousin Tess." he said. introducing her.
"Fourth cousin, twice removed," she added, and they both laughed. "Hi." she said. "Want a beer?"