Backdrop
Suzanne Marsh
“What was that?” cried the director of “Not So Fast Honey”. All of a sudden, there was a thump as a prop rug hit the highly polished floor backstage. ‘Hmmm’ thought Nimrod Proctor, the lead actor, ‘how strange that a rug would fall; I wonder where it was.’ Jeremy Runyon, the director walked quickly up the stairs and toward back stage; where the sound seemed to have come from. There, on the floor was a prop rug, with what appeared to be a body. Jeremy quickly strode over to where the prop rug had landed. Jeremy skidded to halt; he gently toed the prop. Nothing moved, so the prop was moved when a hand appeared out of the rug. Jeremy, his eyes bugging out of his head; reached down to pick up the hand. He chuckled when he realized that it was the hand of a manikin. He let out a sigh of relief. Then he had a scary thought: ‘what if the next time it is a real hand. Someone wanted “Not So Fast Honey” not on the stage of the Superama Theater. Nimrod, sauntered down the stairs of the stage: “everything is fine people just a small mishap with a manikin’s hand.”
The prop crew quickly removed the rug; once again preparations were underway since the production of “Not So Fast Honey” was due to open that evening. Nimrod practiced his lines again and again until no one in cast or crew could tolerate him. He even had little Mary Payne to the point where she forgot her own lines. Leave it to Nimrod thought Jeremy. The full dress practice began. Everything was going according to plan until a huge potted plant fell off the balcony. The cast and crew were not superstitious however there appeared to be weird things happening. ‘Could be first night jitters’ thought Jeremy.
Something niggled at Jeremy, something he could not put his finger on; but something none the less. Time was simply not on his side. The premiere was tonight, in fact in a mere four hours. Jeremy had worked long and hard to get this production the backing it needed; finally he had the money that was needed. He thought about the several big backers, then the niggle became almost a frantic scream. It had to be Johnny the Pug, he had told Jeremy that he wanted the money owed him from the profits of the first night. The mere thought of paying twenty thousand dollars all in one lump sum, had scared Jeremy. He knew that Johnny the Pug, so nicknamed because of his pug nose, had no compunction about hurting him or anyone associated with the production. Jeremy was not keen on being chained to a slab of concrete, dying in the East River. The more Jeremy thought about it; the more convinced he became that Johnny the Pug caused both accidents as a warning; ‘I want my money’.
Jeremy walked over to the bar owned by Johnny the Pug. He noticed a group of men sitting at a huge table. Those were ‘Johnny’s Boys’, whatever unpleasant deed that Johnny the Pug wanted done, they did it. Jeremy walked over to the bar tender Todd Brink: there was no doubt he wanted to speak to Johnny:
“Todd, I…” His voice trailed off to a whisper. Jeremy, noted several of the boys were moving toward him, this could not be good. It could be hello East River, good by “Not So Fast Honey.”
“The boss wants to see you, follow me now.” Jeremy followed the big goon. They went up two flights of stairs to Johnny’s office. The goon knocked on the door:
“Hey Johnny open up.”
The door swung open, there sat Johnny, surrounded by three beautiful young women, one white poodle and a huge steak. Jeremy thought that being a gangster certainly had its befits.
“Come in Jer, I wondered how long it would be before you would come to your senses. I know
that tonight is a big affair, I want that money, or I charge two thousand per cent each day. That
is a nice tidy sum.”
“Johnny, I just need some time I know the show is going to be a big hit.”
“You have no time either I see that money tonight or you see the bottom of the East River.
Got it?”
“Got it” Jeremy said.
His head hung low, Jeremy strode back to the Superama Theater. He had to lighten up, if the cast saw him like this there would be no show, he would not be able to pay Johnny, worse he would be dead in the East River...Johnny did not kid about that.
Time was running out, the cast were all dressed, the props were arranged, just waiting for Jeremy and the show to begin. Jeremy, fought the urge to run; these actors and actresses depended on him, even Nimrod Proctor. Jeremy, walked out on stage, cleared his throat:
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen welcome to the premier of ‘Not So Fast Honey’, we hope you will enjoy it.”
The opening act began. Suddenly several sand bags fell, missing Nimrod by a fraction of an inch. Jeremy hoped that that was the worst that Johnny would do, but he knew that was not so. He wondered if there were more booby traps that Johnny’s boys had hidden on the stage or backstage. He could not have sandbags falling especially on ticket holders. Well, he was going to have to handle things; he knew the ticket sales would cover the twenty grand or at least he hoped it would. The theater was packed, standing room only. That somehow pleased Jeremy.
Johnny’s boys appeared in the last row of the theater. Jeremy paled, this was not a good sign from Johnny. He hoped they would at least wait until the play was finished before they gave him his cement shoes, and a one way ticket to the bottom of the East River. The question upper most in Jeremy’s mind was: “how do I survive, I can’t out run on them. I also know that Johnny’s boys will cause havoc backstage. They would destroy the sets, threaten the cast; there are so many options.’
The climax of the show had begun, suddenly there was a loud pop. Nimrod keeled over, blood pouring from a chest wound. A hush came over the crowd, surely this was not in the script, that blood looked real. Jeremy, knew his number was up. He saw Johnny’s boys slowly striding toward him. He ran to the box office, counted out twenty thousand dollars, hoping that would save Nimrod’s life. He could feel their presences before strong arms grabbed him; taking the money from his shaking hands.
“Hey Jer, thanks for the money, Johnny ain’t real pleased he had to wait.” The huge bruiser with hands like meat hooks, grabbed Jeremy. They hustled him out of the box office, into the cool night air. Shoving him into a black Suburban, they headed toward the East River. Sure enough there were two gigantic blocks of cement. The Suburban halted at the pier. There stood Johnny:
“hey Jer, thought you was gonna escape your fate, ain’t happening. Okay boys do your thing.”
Jeremy fought with all his strength, knowing that it was useless. Before long all that could be seen were bubbles where Jeremy once breathed. “Not So Fast Honey” was a big hit on Broadway where it played over two years. No one ever saw or heard from Jeremy again. Nimrod survived his wound. Funny, how backstage can become center stage so quickly.
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1 comment
I like it. Well done!
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