‘Mine, too,’ said Eddie.
‘Well, what a coincidence that is.’
‘Really?’ Eddie raised his imaginary eyebrows. ‘And yet this is an Opera House, and we did meet the Phantom of the Opera. And the one thing everyone remembers about the Phantom of the Opera, and indeed associates with operas, is the big chandelier that hangs above the centre of the stage. Which gets dropped upon someone.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t know about that,’ said Jack.
‘Nor me,’ said Eddie. ‘I just made that bit up to pass some time.’
‘Oh,’ said Jack. ‘Why?’
‘Because that,’ said Eddie, and he pointed with a paw, ‘is a very big chandelier and I’m not exactly certain how we’ll be able to drop a thing that size on anyone.’
‘Aha,’ said Jack. ‘Gotcha.’
‘Gotcha?’ said Eddie. ‘What means this odd word?’
‘It means that my calculated plan extends a little further than your own. I know exactly how to drop that chandelier upon the evildoers.’
‘Assuming of course they stand directly beneath it when we do the dropping,’ Eddie said.
‘Eddie,’ said Jack, ‘let’s face it: it’s a pretty preposterous idea. But this is a pretty preposterous situation. All of this is utterly ludicrous.’
‘When you put it like that, how can we fail?’
‘Well said. Now bung your furry ear hole in my direction and let me whisper into it.’
And so Jack whispered. And when his whispering was done, which, it has to be said, was quite loud whispering as it had to make itself heard above the spirited strains of the orchestra beneath, Jack straightened and Eddie looked up at him.
And then Eddie said, ‘No way.’
‘No way?’ said Jack.
‘Absolutely no way,’ said Eddie. ‘What do you take me for? You’ll get me killed.’
‘It will work,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s a calculated risk.’
‘I won’t be fine, I’ll die. You do it.’
‘I can’t do it. It has to be you.’
‘And what do I do it with?’
‘You do it with a spanner. This spanner.’
‘And where did you find that?’
‘Backstage, next to the “thunder sheet”.’
‘And what’s a—’
‘Don’t start with me. I know you made up “running chuffs”.’
‘But I’ve only got paws, Jack. No hands with fingers and opposable thumbs.’
‘It’ll only take a few turns – you’ll manage.’
‘Oh, look,’ said Eddie. ‘The ballet has begun.’
Now ballets and operas have several things in common. Swanky costumes they have in common, and too much stage make-up. And music, of course – they are both traditionally very musical affairs. But the most notable thing that they share is the storyline. The one thing that you can always be assured of if you go to the opera or the ballet is, in the case of the opera, lots of really good loud singing, and in the case of the ballet, lots of really wonderful dancing, and in the case of both, really rubbish storylines.
They are rubbish. They always are. You always know what’s coming next. Who the baddy is and who the goody. The jokes, such as they are, are telegraphed a mile off. Rubbish, they all are. Rubbish.
Eddie watched the dancers a-dancing beneath. Very pretty dancing dolls they were, of the variety that pop out of musical boxes, only bigger.
‘What is this ballet all about?’ he asked Jack.
‘Boy sees girl, villain sees girl, boy meets girl, villain sees boy meet girl, boy gets parted from girl due to villain’s villainy, boy remeets girl and boy gets girl in the end.’
‘And that’s the story?’ Eddie asked.
‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘Clever, isn’t it?’
‘That would be irony, would it?’
Jack said, ‘We should be doing our stuff !’
Eddie said, ‘I don’t want to!’
Beneath them, dolly ballerinas twirled. The hero, a wooden dolly who given the bulge in his tights apparently had wood on, did pluckings up on the heroine and twistings of her round in the air and the doing of something that is called a pas de deux. And also a full-tilt whirly-tronce, a double chuff-muffin rundle and a three-point turn with the appropriate hand signals and other marvellous things of a quite balletic nature.
The villain of the piece, imaginatively costumed in black, lurked in the limelight at stage left, posturing in a menacing fashion and glowering ’neath overlarge painted eyebrows.
Eddie said, ‘Don’t do this to me, Jack.’
Jack said, ‘It has to be done.’
And then Jack did it, but did it with care. He lifted Eddie from his paw pads, raised him to shoulder height and then hurled him. Eddie, wearing the face of terror, soared out over the dancers beneath. Jack buried his face in his hands and prayed for a God to believe in and wished Eddie well. And Eddie landed safely in the topmost crystal nestings of the mighty Opera House chandelier.
Unseen by dancers, orchestra or audience.
Jack peeped out through his fingers and breathed a mighty sigh. Eddie clung to the chandelier and growled in a bitter fashion. Jack waved heartily to Eddie.
Eddie raised a paw to wave back and all but fell to his death. Jack rootled the spanner from a nameless pocket and waggled it at Eddie.
Eddie steadied himself in his crystal nest and prepared to do catchings.
And it could have been tricky. In fact, it could have been disastrous. That spanner could have fallen, down and down onto dancers beneath. But it didn’t, for it was a calculated throw.
And Eddie caught that spanner between his paws and offered a thumbless thumbs-up back to Jack.
And Eddie peeped down from his lofty crystal eyrie. Through twinkling crystals, which presented the world beneath as one magical, he viewed the dancers, the orchestra and even the backstage, smelling of stables, which lurked behind the flats. It was a pretty all-encompassing overview, and one that brought no little sense of awe to Eddie Bear.
And of course bears are noted for their tree-climbing abilities and fearlessness of heights.
Eddie clung to the chandelier, and if he had had knuckles, these would at this time have been white. As would his face. From fear.
Jack grinned over at Eddie. ‘Bears are noted for their tree-climbing abilities and fearlessness of heights,’ he said to himself, ‘so Eddie will be fine.’
Beneath, the villain enticed the heroine. Well, menaced was better the word. But as he did this via the medium of skilful dance, a degree of menace was lost.
And Jack looked down from on high, as did Eddie, and then Jack saw what Eddie saw, although from a different perspective.
Along the backstage the two of them crept, one Jack and the other one Eddie. The Jack carried two large suitcases. The Jack upon high’s eyes widened, though the Eddie upon high’s could not. Jack now did blinkings and rubbings at his eyes. That was him below. It really was. Though of course it really wasn’t. But it looked like him and walked like him, or at least Jack thought that it did.
Although it didn’t look altogether right. Jack screwed up his eyes and did long-distance squintings. What was wrong with this picture?
‘He’s the wrong way round,’ whispered Jack. ‘Oh no, he’s not – it’s just that I’ve never seen myself like that. I’ve only seen myself in a mirror.’ And Jack did frantic wavings of the hands towards Eddie. Frantic mimings of a spanner being turned.
But Eddie wasn’t looking at Jack. Eddie was looking down upon his other self. ‘Damn fine-looking bear,’ said Eddie to his own self. ‘Anders Imperial. Cinnamon plush coat …’
Down below, backstage, the other Eddie and the other Jack were unpacking the contents of the suitcases and assembling some rather snazzy-looking hi-tech equipment.
Above, Jack’s motions to Eddie became ever more frantic. Jack sought things to throw at the bear.
Eddie gawped at his other self. It was a damn fine-looking
bear, but what was it? Spaceman? Space chicken? What? Where had it come from? Why did it look like him? Why was it doing whatever it was it was doing? And whatever was it doing?
Eddie now glanced in Jack’s direction. Jack seemed to be doing a foolish dance.
‘Spanner!’ mouthed Jack. ‘Release the chandelier,’ he mouthed also.
‘Ah,’ went Eddie. ‘Oh, yes.’
Beneath the two detectives, their other selves, the other Eddie and the other Jack, appeared to have concluded the setting up of their hi-tech and Hellish apparatus. The Jack was now adjusting settings, twiddling dials, making final preparations.
Eddie on high laboured with the spanner – not easy between teddy paws – at the great nut and bolt that secured the chandelier to the ceiling above.*
Ballet dancers twisted and twirled. The villain, who wouldn’t get around to stabbing the hero until at least the third act, did more posturing and glowering with his eyebrows. The orchestra did the slow bit that involved violins.
The other Jack did straightenings up and rubbings of his hands.
Eddie struggled with the spanner. It was a tricky nut.
Jack glanced here and there and everywhere, down at the dancers, up at Eddie, down at their other selves, out towards the orchestra. Jack felt helpless. He was helpless.
Eddie continued his struggling, but the tricky nut wouldn’t budge.
‘What do I do? What do I do?’ Jack took to flapping his hands and doing a kind of tap dance.
Something tweaked him hard in the groin. Jack ceased his kind of tap dance.
‘Ow,’ went Jack. ‘Who did that to me?’
His groin got tweaked once again.
‘Stop it! Oh, it’s you.’ And Jack drew Wallah from his trenchcoat and held her to his ear.
‘My calculations regarding the nut-turning potential of the bear would appear to be incorrect by a factor of one-point-five,’ said Wallah. ‘It will be necessary for you to jump from the gantry onto the chandelier and turn the nut yourself. Do take care to cling onto something safe when the chandelier falls.’
‘What?’ went Jack.
‘It’s a calculated risk,’ said Wallah. ‘And as I will be with you and I care about you, believe me, it is the product of most careful and meticulous calculation.’
‘I can’t do that,’ said Jack. ‘I can’t.’
Eddie struggled hopelessly to turn the nut.
Lights began to pulse on the hi-tech apparatus far below.
‘No,’ said Jack. ‘I can’t. I can’t.’
A big white light began to grow backstage.
‘No,’ said Jack. And he climbed onto the handrail of the gantry. ‘No, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I … ooooooh.’
And Jack leapt into the wide blue yonder, as it’s sometimes known. And he soared, as in slow motion, and struck the mighty crystal chandelier. And did scrabblings. And did clawings. And did grippings. And did holdings on.
And did sighings.
And.
‘Hello there, Jack,’ said Eddie. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘They’re …’ Jack huffed and puffed and clung on also and climbed a bit, too, until he was level with Eddie. ‘They’re going to blast the orchestra. We have to drop the chandelier upon them.’
‘Such was my plan,’ said Eddie, ‘but I cannot shift the nut.’
‘Let me.’ And Jack took the spanner.
And down below the other Jack’s fingers hovered above a big red button. And the other Jack looked down towards the other Eddie. And the other Jack smiled and the other Eddie smiled back. And those smiles were evil smiles. And the other Jack’s finger pressed down upon the blood-red button.
And above, Jack fought with the tricky nut. ‘It’s a tricky nut,’ said he.
‘Get twisting,’ howled Eddie, looking fearfully below. ‘Oh no – something terrible’s happening.’
The white and awful light spread out from the hi-tech whatnot. It penetrated the rear of the stage flat, emerged through the painted backdrop and spread out onto the stage. The ballet dancers shielded their eyes, ceased their pirouetting and fled in confusion. The clockwork orchestra engaged in orchestration played on regardless, regardless.
‘Twist the blighter,’ Eddie further howled.
The awful light flooded the stage.
Other howls went up now, these from the audience. The explosion of light blinded their eyes and folk rose from their seats in confusion.
Jack got a purchase upon that nut. ‘I think it’s giving!’ he said.
The other Jack adjusted controls, did twistings of his own of buttons rather than nuts. The terrible light swept out from the stage and dipped down into the orchestra pit.
And it fell upon the orchestra. Musicians rose to take flight, to escape from a terrible something. Dread. And panic. And confusion.
‘Hurry, Jack, hurry!’ cried Eddie.
‘I’m hurrying.’ Jack put his back to his work. The chandelier swung beneath him. Crystals shook. Jack forced at the nut, and the nut began slowly to turn.
But now terrible cries and screams came from the orchestra.
And terrible cracklings and poppings and sounds of hideous horribleness.
‘Swing it,’ cried Eddie. ‘As you turn that nut, swing the chandelier – we have to drop it right on top of these monsters. And quick please, Jack, the musicians are dying. They’re killing them, Jack.’
‘I’m trying. I’m trying. Oh!’
And off came the nut, away from the bolt.
And …
‘Nothing’s happening!’ Jack shouted.
‘You’ll have to kick the bolt out,’ Eddie shouted back.
‘And how will I do that?’
‘Use this!’
The voice came in a shouted form from the lighting gantry. Upon this now stood the Phantom of the Opera. He held a hammer in his hand.
‘Catch it and knock out the bolt.’ And the Phantom threw the hammer. And Jack caught the hammer. And Jack used the hammer. And Jack knocked out the bolt.
And then things happened in sort of slow motion. In the way that they would if this were a movie (instead of real life, as it obviously was!).
Jack knocked out the bolt.
And the bolt spiralled away into space.
And the chandelier fell (in slow motion, of course). And the light beneath penetrated the orchestra, bored its way into their very beings, sucked away at their very soul-stuff.
And the chandelier fell.
And with it fell Eddie and Jack.
And down went that chandelier. Down and down upon the other Jack and the other Eddie, who at its coming down looked up to see it doing that very thing.
And down too went Eddie and Jack.
And the orchestra, writhing and dying in the terrible light.
And the chandelier falling.
And now the Phantom, gripping a dangling rope. Swinging down from the gantry.
And the chandelier falling.
And the other Jack and the other Eddie looking up.
And the orchestra dying.
And the Phantom swinging (normal action now, not slow motion).
And he gathers up Jack and Eddie as they fall, sweeps onward, lands them and himself all safely upon another gantry, just lower down on the other side of the stage.
Nice work.
And the chandelier smashes down (normal action).
And explodes.
Into a million crystal fragments.
Spiralling crystals fly in all directions, which you can do really well with CGI nowadays.
And the awful light dies.
And things go very dark.
And very still.
And cut!
That’s a take!
Well done, everyone.
13
‘Oh my goodness,’ croaked Eddie. ‘Are we still alive?’
‘You are alive,’ said the Phantom, lowering Eddie to the floor of the lower gantry, ‘and so is your companion.’
�
�That is not what I mean.’ And Eddie craned what neck he had to peer down at the shattered chandelier. It had probably been a most expensive chandelier, but there wasn’t much of it left now. ‘I mean the other we, the other me and Jack – are they still alive?’
Jack took to peering, clinging to the gantry handrail, his knees now wobbling somewhat.
‘Can you see?’ Eddie asked. ‘Did we smash those blighters good?’
‘I can’t see,’ said Jack. ‘But I can see … Oh dear, Eddie.’
‘What is it? What can you see?’
‘The orchestra,’ said Jack, and he said it in a strangled whisper. ‘It’s the orchestra, Eddie. All the musicians are dead.’
Eddie buried his face in his paws. ‘This is as bad as,’ he said.
‘Oh Eddie, I’m so sorry.’ Jack leaned down and patted his friend. ‘I’m so very sorry. It’s all my fault.’
‘All your fault?’ Eddie looked up with a bitter face. ‘It’s not your fault, Jack. You did everything you could. You were as brave as. It was my fault. The fault of these stupid paws. I couldn’t turn the spanner. If only I’d had my hands—’
‘You did your best,’ said the Phantom in his or her (or its) toneless manner. ‘And you couldn’t be expected to have hands. Hands, indeed? You’d look like that creepy mayor. In fact—’
‘It was my fault.’ Eddie regarded with bitterness his fingerless, thumbless paws. ‘Everything has been my fault.’
‘Stop it, Eddie,’ said Jack. ‘You did what you could. I should have leapt over to the chandelier in the first place.’
‘You were both very brave,’ said the Phantom, ‘and you had no care for your own safety.’
‘And you saved us both,’ said Jack. ‘We owe you our lives.’
‘Oh, it was nothing. The least I could do.’
‘I won’t forget this,’ Jack said.
Eddie sighed, and he so hated sighing. ‘We’d better go down,’ he said. ‘There is nothing we can do for the orchestra, but if the other me and the other you are still alive down there, I’m going to see to it that they don’t remain so much longer.’
‘Steady, Eddie,’ said Jack.
‘I’ll lead the way,’ said the Phantom. ‘It’s a bit complicated, but it does involve another secret panel.’
‘We could just go down these steps,’ said Jack.
The Toyminator Page 17
