When The Crew Comes To Town

Cut! Cut !! Cut!!! I couldn’t help it this time around. This is the third time in under three minutes he was shouting that. What was so funny to me and annoying to the actors and actresses was the manner he shouts it with that plastic toothpick in his mouth. Cut, cut, cut. I was wondering if that is how all these plays and movies we watch are being recorded or if this albino is just the son of a bitch. 

   The director Mr. Thunder as they nicked him was shouting to Charles an albino like him and that had been the third time he was shouting that on account of Charles making a minor mistake am not sure anyone watching this time at home will even notice.

Charles, a year below us in class usually takes permission home every two weeks without telling anyone what he does. We had thought it was like we do just to go see family or as our excuses always appear on the permission card from the teacher in charge of that. Then it was about three weeks ago while we the boarding house students sat at our various positions in the cultural rooms as we call what passes as the parlor of the dorm like we know almost all the families were doing at that particular moment in the whole of Biafra land to watch what has proven to be the most talk of all the plays and home movies on vogue these days in Biafra land. “Ichoku” that was the name, is simply by far the best. When it first debuted a year ago, within months, it climbed to the number one position on the most audience-arresting play of all time in this land. Crowd mover.

  We sat in anticipation of the show as usual. It took everyone about three minutes to realize that the albino acting and saying funnies things were the same Charles sitting by my left, two students away from me. He was observing our reactions, our shock, and smirking to himself when about a hundred and three heads turned towards his direction.

“What! What happened? Why is everyone eyeing me that way?”

“Is that you Charles?”

“ What? where?”

He was putting on a wonderful show of being surprised at our questions and pointing out that he turned into the actor he is and succeeded in throwing us off.

Every head turned towards the play again waiting for his scene to appear again. Not up to two minutes, there on the screen he is again and every head with mouth open in true surprise turned once again in the same direction and he was eyeing us back with surprise on his face. “is that not you, Charles?”

After making a show of feigning surprise and squirting at the screen, 

 “ Ha!, humans can resemble each other. That guy truly looks like me oh. How come?”

Was his reply that was followed by a hefty laughter that echoed in the room. He never answered yes or no. After that day, those that believed It was him and those doubting were about 50-50 and the debate became a weekly event.

He had about four weeks before that surprised Tuesday appearance been talking to himself at times loudly in the shower room or talking to the toilet wall. We were wondering if he had gone crazy. Observing ever that very day he appeared for the first time and after my initial surprise and disbelief, I had concluded It was him.

I decided that day to go when he goes and come when he does. I am not in the habit of staking people but for an Albino, I never noticed any special skill he possessed since two years now we have lived in the dormitory, someone no one looked at twice when he passed to suddenly became pending famous to the extent of teachers wanting to be seen with him, I couldn’t resist using my other skill to figure out things. 

He was still talking to the walls and alone but it never occurred to me what he was doing. I mean, most of us sing reggae songs or hum when alone.

I had gone home the week before he did as usual, I decided to apply again and see if the existing master as we call Mr. Cliff in charge of granting traveling permits will forget himself and grant me existing permits. I know it was an uphill task, the man is as strict as they come but I had been following all the existing rules and surely, that was supposed to count. I had decided to follow Charles around in the city for three days we had. My game was to make sure I wasn’t seen. Surely, if it works in white-man movies and novels, it will work for me too.

I have saved enough pocket change to make the task before me a little less painful. I knew where they live, three streets away from us. My philosophy is that nothing good comes easy. Although I am a little famous in the school through the game of soccer, I am still a local champion compared to what a boy no one looks at twice in the school suddenly turned not only in the school but in the city. The most important of it all is that he must be making money on top of those appearances. If not, why his stand on the questions directed at him? 

I was denied exist that week, but I never lost hope, I had done well by keeping my plans to myself and since am the only one privy to them, there was no fear of them being derailed. I must confess that I was a little jealous of him and I believe it must be coming from my mind running riots and my head couldn’t stop calculating how much each appearance fetches him.

“Why do you suddenly want to fly away two weeks ago and then decided to stay one more week before traveling?”

“I was calculating and doing a little homework. That’s just that. Family issues sir.”

I wonder why the man is scrutinizing me and asking me unnecessary questions. Can he read minds or what? I said to myself. These days, people can be anything else. He stamped my exit card and I quietly pocketed it while kowtowing at the same time the rate my hands were disappearing into my pocket.

My little saved pocket money is being invested into this excursion I don’t know or well, I do, pretending not to know that there is no return on investment in it but seeking knowledge I still don’t know where to put into use favorably outside gossip and hero-worshipping. 

I went ahead of another home that week, a guy with a mission, the plan was to get home fast and changed and shower before spying on that guy discreetly.

My strategy or rather my books and movies have proven to be real and dependable so far.

Not long after taking my position in the restaurant nearly opposite their house, out comes my quarry, bouncing and heading towards the bus stop. I followed like in the novels and movies.

He entered the taxi and I, a cyclist which is a little expensive and the driver is behaving like he doesn’t want to do the following until I promised him an extra coin. The taxi stopped him at one dilapidated hall no one ever uses again. That was where I saw them drawing one cable from one end to the other. I had wanted to try my luck and approach one of the crews to know the requirement for being legally part of the show but my better judgment wanted to know if am crazy, how thick, and since when?

From one of the cracks in the wall, I followed events inside there which occasionally went behind the hall and beside it. Twenty minutes into the rehearsal, I heard no less than seven times cut! cut!! , cut!!! from the Albino, they call Thunder. Funny guy that seems to be getting his kick from shouting cut, cut, cut every two minutes. I nearly laugh out loud and away from my presence. I can swear even that one of the actresses heard me judging from the way she glanced in my direction for a few seconds.

 I was not only risking snake bit but I couldn’t believe they stay out this much to rehearse and record one hours program we watch each Tuesday. Almost getting dark and there is no way I can leave there considering their position now without being noticed. I decided to wait it out. Plans have changed once more. I planned to follow one of the camera crew back to his base and I know there is no way he will open his mouth meaningfully to me without two bottles of beer serving as inducer. 

My pocket is losing weight and I have only succeeded in being a peeping Tom and nothing more. I balanced my weight on the other leg and focused.