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The Peppers and the Island of Invention

Page 3

by Sian Pattenden


  “He called me ‘Twinks’,” she murmured. “And I’m not sure that I feel OK about that.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he calls you,” Tabitha explained. “We need to sell the theatre and he’s the only man in the area who’s made an offer in the last fifteen years.”

  “I still have a funny feeling about it…” murmured Twinkle. “Twinks indeed…”

  “Come along,” said Tabitha, lightly tugging her sister’s arm as they walked out of the theatre in a huddle. “I’ll show you the figures in the caravan. We need Mr Portobello’s offer sooner rather than later if we’re to get that little bungalow on Tide Street…”

  With the Table sisters now gone, the team was at last left alone to concentrate on the matter in hand: the show.

  “Now, we haven’t quite worked out the full trick.” Potty’s hair wavered with extra intensity – he was thinking hard. “I’m still wondering about the aquatic theme.”

  “What about an enormous magic turtle leaping out of an ice cream van, Potty?” Monty asked. “Then it could turn into a hippo.”

  “Hmm… not quite right.”

  “Something smaller perhaps… Terrapins jumping out of a yoghurt pot?”

  “Hmm, let’s start from the beginning…” replied the Potty Magician. “Elements of the ocean and the seaside are good, yes, but I want to stage something spectacular. I want the trick to be dangerous and exciting. I want it to look as if I’m in mortal danger.” Potty paused. “Keith, we should try to invent some sort of device inside which I am imprisoned.”

  “OK… but keeping the watery theme?”

  “Yes,” said Potty. “Any ideas, technically speaking?”

  Keith thought for a moment. “Have any of you been to the aquarium next door? If we’re going take inspiration from the oceans, that’s the place to go.”

  “Excellent,” said Potty. “It might just do the trick.”

  And so the four intrepid researchers walked out of the theatre, along the pier and down a large flight of stone steps that led to the aquarium. The outside of the building – similarly to the Sea Spray – had been buffeted by the salty winds of the coast for years. Paint was peeling and the once-white facade was a greeny-grey colour.

  Some fading fibreglass animals were fixed on the roof of the aquarium: a large dolphin, a penguin, two crabs and a starfish. Accompanying them was a life-size model of the aquarium’s founder, Sir Stuart Crisps, a Scottish diver famed for discovering a new species of coral.

  Walking in, the first thing they saw were the small transparent jellyfish, which swam upward and downward in the tank as if they were in a celestial lift.

  Next were the manta rays, which dipped and dived in a low pool – the aquarium invited visitors to waggle their fingers in the water to see if the fish would come to the surface. Monty found this a great distraction and Esmé had to drag him over to the glass walk-through tunnel. Above them, graceful varieties of sea creatures glided slowly in the water – exotic squid, sullen catfish, tiny crabs and a large school of electric eels.

  “The eels remind me of my houseboat years,” said Uncle Potty wistfully. “I used to try and catch them but they were far too slippery.”

  “Were you a magician then?” asked Keith.

  “Almost,” replied Potty. “I was moored on a canal near Wembley. The water was calm and the weather always clement. I had a small beetle named Shep whom I fed and nurtured for a month. We talked, we shared – but eventually Shep left for pastures new and I was lonely again. I needed a hobby. I picked up a book of card tricks from the local bookshop and started to practise – it was then that I decided to become a magician. I joined the International Magic Guys – known also as the IMG – perfected more and more tricks and was never lonely again.”

  Keith moved them forward. “They have everyday goldfish here too,” he said.

  “This reminds me of the goldfish bowl trick – do you know it?” Potty asked Keith.

  “Ah, the one made famous by Ching Ling Foo? Of course, it’s one of the world’s best tricks,” replied Keith, knowledgeably. “But it’s been copied a million times before…”

  Potty stayed silent for a few moments, deep in thought.

  “Has it been done on a large scale before?”

  “Not that I know of,” replied Keith.

  “Well, that’s it!” shouted Potty, leaping into the air, his yellow cape billowing in the slightly damp air of the aquarium. “I will update the trick using a giant fishbowl! It will be like nothing ever seen before. Keith, can you build me a tank? One big enough to stand in?”

  Keith paused to think about the practicalities. “Yes, with a bit of patience it could be done.”

  “Perfect,” said Potty, hopping on the spot. “But I need to add the element of danger… Hmm… I could be locked in! Can we do that too?”

  “Of course, if we put a lock on it and make it appear that you can’t escape – the audience will be on the edge of their seats. Naturally, you will be able to open the lid from the inside.”

  “If I am completely submerged in water the audience will be thrilled,” said Potty, happy to have found his inspiration.

  “Now, for an extra element of danger…”

  “Piranhas?” suggested Monty. “Exploding from a sombrero?”

  “Fire…” mused Potty, barely able to contain his ideas. “The opposite of water. Sensational…” Potty drummed his long fingers against his cheek.

  “Aha! The top of the tank catches fire! Now, that would be something quite unforgettable. Danger on two levels.”

  “A fire in a fish tank!” blurted Esmé. “That’s exactly what Twinkle Table predicted.”

  “Did she really?” asked Keith, intrigued.

  “Wow,” said Monty. “She’s spot on.”

  “It must be a good omen,” announced Potty, full of vim.

  “If it’s done right it will be astounding,” said Keith, who took out a notebook from his back pocket and jotted some ideas down. “How long have we got until the show?”

  “Next Saturday – a week today,” answered Potty.

  “I’ll go back to the island tonight and start building… Shall we meet back at the theatre on Thursday morning?”

  “Splendid,” remarked Potty. “Monty and I shall work on the script, and we also have to think about costumes… I may need a waterproof cape.”

  Esmé saw how everyone’s spirits had been lifted. Monty, for one, looked deliriously happy.

  “Potty, this is the sort of thing you could get knighted for,” he said, gazing up at the magician with awe.

  “Now, now, let’s not get carried away,” answered Potty. “We must start rehearsals, and pronto!”

  An excerpt from

  Dr Pompkins – Totality Magic

  TRICK: The World Famous Shirt Trick

  You may have watched the magic lantern – the old television box – and seen the most classic ‘Shirt Trick’ executed with style and grace by a top magician.

  The act makes the impossible possible – to look as if a gentleman’s shirt can be ripped off under his suit jacket by all the mighty powers of magic.

  In reality, you have agreed with the gentleman beforehand that he will tie his shirt by the cuffs and neck only {see fig. 1} – the jacket goes on afterwards.

  When in front of your audience, you introduce your chap, announce you will remove his shirt, then remove the tie and release his cuff and neck buttons just before you whip off his shirt. The jacket remains.

  It is simply incredibaba.

  Travel

  At some point you will be required to travel to a local fayre when your act starts gathering interest. The legendary Timothy Cooper used to travel with trunks full of tricks – much more than he would ever use at one show – just in case he needed them. Buy a good wheeled suitcase and stuff it with tricks and props. That way you will never be caught short. Also handy if you are an escapologist as you can also use it as a trunk from which to escape. Or if you need to go on ho
liday.

  In all totality,

  Dr Pompkins

  As the day of the big show drew near, Esmé and Monty became more and more excited. Potty worked hard on each element of the performance – how he would walk on stage, what he would wear, what he would say and where the giant fish tank would be placed for the duration of the show. Furthermore, Uncle Potty had started to time everything to the last milli-second. But after four days, he seemed to be coming to a natural halt.

  “What we really need now is the tank,” Potty announced on Thursday morning, just as he had completed sewing his new cape. It was made from blue satin and had fish silhouettes stitched on to it. “And we should finalise the lighting. I wonder how Keith is getting on.”

  “He said he’d be here today,” said Esmé, putting down the bag of blue satin remnants she had been gathering from the floor. “Shall we go outside and see if we can spot him?”

  In eager anticipation, Esmé and Monty stood at the end of the pier, waiting for the first glimpse of a boat arriving from Crab Pie Island. There was a strong wind blowing from the sea – the rumblings of the grumblings of stormy weather – and clouds seemed to be gathering on the horizon, as if they too were coming to see the show.

  Twenty minutes later a speck appeared on the horizon. Slowly it got closer and soon the Peppers could see a large fish tank, supported by ropes, on a rickety wooden boat. Keith caught a glimpse of the trio and waved. As he approached he mouthed something none of the three could make out, then grabbed something from his pocket and lit the top of the tank with it.

  At once, a row of bright flames shone from the boat. Controlled and perfectly timed, the flames turned from red, to blue, to a bright, bright green.

  “My goodness, I think he’s done it!” exclaimed Potty to the Pepper twins. “Fire in a fish tank, fire upon the oceans.”

  It was a sight that Esmé vowed she would never forget. “It’s fantastic,” she said. “A feast for the eyes and a feat of engineering.”

  As the boat reached the mooring point at the end of the pier, Monty and Esmé ran down the stone steps to congratulate Keith.

  “Anchors aweigh!” shouted Monty.

  Esmé had to correct her brother. “What you mean is ‘drop anchor’,” she said. Keith, however, was preoccupied as he looked around the boat for something.

  “What are you missing?” asked Esmé.

  “The mooring rope!” Keith shouted up at the twins. “It’s disappeared… Curses. I’m going to need some help docking this boat.”

  “What can we do?” called Esmé as Keith frantically continued his search for the missing rope.

  “Keith, I’ll throw you my cape!” yelled Monty. He whipped the collar from his neck and reached out to Keith, but just then a particularly strong wind whipped up and swept a bewildered Keith and the fish tank right past the pier.

  “Rats,” said Monty. “What shall we do?”

  “Monty, do you still have that extendable wand?” asked Esmé.

  “Yes, it’s somewhere…” said Monty, who fumbled in his sleeve, brought out the wand and elongated it to its full length. Monty leaned over and tried to hand the wand to Keith, who struggled to reach it. As the waves rose and fell, the little boat tipped from one side to the other, but at last a helpful gust of wind managed to draw a struggling Keith Chalk closer to Monty.

  Keith grabbed at the wand – missed – then tried again. At last he held it tight and Monty managed to pull him in while Esmé used some string from her pocket to tie the boat to the mooring. Once steady, the Pepper twins and Keith breathed a big sigh of relief.

  “That was a close one,” said Keith, wiping his brow. “I wonder what happened to the mooring rope? Oh, well, no harm done. Let’s carry this stuff into the theatre.”

  I wonder indeed, thought Esmé, remembering what Mr Portobello had said about keeping an eye on Keith. However, Esmé decided to keep her thoughts to herself, for now at least.

  The giant fishbowl was made out of strong plastic and had a metal lid. Keith said it had taken four days and three nights to construct it.

  “The lid contains a lock which, if an audience member is to be invited on stage to test it, will seem unbreakable,” Keith explained with pride. “Therefore, anyone locked inside the tank will appear to be in great peril. However, there is a secret catch, which you, Potty, will be able to unlock from inside.”

  “So I get inside the tank after it has been thoroughly inspected, the stage curtains close for three or four seconds, then they will open to reveal that the tank is empty. Splendid! We must test it immediately.” Potty was impatient to start.

  Keith suggested running a hose from the tap backstage – with Esmé holding the nozzle and Monty controlling the flow of water. The twins set it up right away.

  “Ready!” called Monty when he was by the taps.

  “Great, now, Monty, turn on the tap, and Esmé, please fill the bowl with water. Right to the top.”

  “I need to be lowered into the tank somehow,” said Potty.

  “No problem, I shall set up a harness and a hoist,” replied Keith.

  “Superb,” said Potty. “You certainly are a hard worker, Keith.”

  Together, Esmé and Monty managed to fill the bowl quickly while Keith prepared the harness.

  “Watch out, coming down!” he yelled as a seat made out of rope descended from above the stage.

  “It’s completely safe,” explained Keith. “Climb in, Potty, then I’ll lift you up over the tank and dunk you in. Then as soon as the curtains close, you just open the lid from the inside using the secret latch,” Keith told Potty, “and haul yourself out. There’s an invisible step made out of transparent plastic so you can get out easily.”

  Potty nodded seriously, and the rehearsal began.

  First, Potty spoke a few pre-rehearsed lines. He introduced the tank – “I present to you the Giant Goldfish Disappearing Bowl,” – and made a joke about fish fingers, which Monty in particular enjoyed. Waving his arms Potty then announced: “I command a fire in a fish tank.”

  At once, four bright flames in different colours shot out of the top of the tank – helped by Keith backstage with a remote control device.

  Next, Potty took off his blue satin cape and offered it to his assistant, Monty, who placed it over his arm. The harness descended. Potty grabbed it and got in.

  Keith was right, the harness was strong. Standing in the wings, Keith started to hoist Potty upwards. “Esmé!” he called. “Can you come and help me with the levers?”

  Esmé smiled – she was rather good at working levers and pulleys – and ran over.

  “Pull the switch there and Potty will start to hover over the tank,” said Keith, gleefully. “Everything is running to plan.” Potty swung over the tank and was gently lowered into the water. Esmé took great care in lowering him into the water. Once inside, Potty used the built-in step to reach the lid and lock it shut. Potty had shown Monty how to walk to the front of the stage and show off the key to the audience, after which Monty would pretend – using a classic technique known as ‘misdirection’ – to swallow the key. Esmé was impressed.

  Keith pulled the curtains closed from the side of the stage and they all waited in tense excitement.

  Potty, now completely submerged in the water, tried to unlock the lid – but nothing happened.

  “Buffurgle!” Esmé heard him mumble in the water.

  Monty ran to the tank and tapped it hard. “Open the lock, Uncle Potty!”

  Potty tried again but it was clear the lock had stuck.

  “Quick!” Esmé shouted to Keith. “The lid won’t open. Do something!”

  Keith ran over and fiddled with the lock. “The key, Monty! The key.”

  Inside the tank Potty’s face turned from red to purple. His hands started glowing silvery white as they tried again – and failed again – to release the catch.

  “Potty!” cried Esmé, fearing the worst.

  Potty scrabbled at the lid then starte
d banging the side of the tank.

  “It’s no use,” shouted Keith. “The walls are made of reinforced plastic.”

  Potty’s eyes were now wide and his face was a greeny sort of mauve. He stared out at everyone with the vacant glare of a condemned man.

  “Come on, Monty!” Esmé shouted. “Get the key!”

  “I‘m looking, I’m looking!” said Monty, as he frantically searched all of his pockets, at last finding the key in his jacket. He handed it to Keith, who slotted the key into the outside lock and opened the lid. Potty used all his force to mount the transparent step inside the tank. Finally, he raised his head above the water.

  Potty gasped – loud and long.

  “Thank goodness!” said Esmé.

  “Sorry if I delayed things,” said Monty. “I’m so glad you’re OK, Potty.”

  Potty gasped again, water dripping off his nose, his face now returning to its usual colour.

  “I’ll get you a towel,” said Esmé, running backstage.

  “What… on… earth?” Keith was completely and absolutely bewildered by the failure of the inside lock. “I checked and double checked everything last night. The catch should have opened easily.”

  “Well, it didn’t,” said Esmé, handing a towel to Potty who had just hauled himself out of the tank.

  “I just don’t know what happened…” Keith found a chair and started inspecting the lid of the tank.

  After a moment Keith spoke. “The catch has been removed,” he said, still baffled.

  “No!” exclaimed Potty, and shivered.

  “Is it me, or is the tank leaking?” asked Monty, as he looked at the ever-increasing pool of water around the tank.

  “Not another problem,” sighed Keith, checking for holes in the tank. “This is not the best start to the rehearsals. Ah, I’ve got it, here.” He pointed to a small, perfectly round hole towards the bottom of the side panel. “Looks like it was made by a drill. Maybe I did it by mistake…”

  But most likely not, thought Esmé, full of suspicion.

 

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