“Two minutes till curtain, Miss Pumbleduff!” shouted a boy’s voice.
Whetū blinked. The scene in front of her was nothing like she’d ever seen before. One half of the large room was lined with dressing tables, all scattered with tubes and pottles and trays of makeup, and wigs resting precariously on wig stands. Against one wall were racks of clothes and costumes, with baskets of shoes and hats underneath. Five glamorous women dressed in short, sparkling red dresses stood chatting and giggling in one corner, adjusting huge feathered headdresses and checking their powdered faces in a large gold-framed mirror.
A man with scruffy grey hair sat in another corner with a wooden boy doll on his knee. As Whetū glanced his way, the doll shouted, “What’re you looking at?”
The man tut-tutted and wagged a reproving finger at the doll, smiling apologetically at Whetū.
“This way, this way,” said the magician.
He led Whetū through a throng of jugglers, Whetū ducking just in time to avoid being hit in the face by a juggling ball. The magician sat her down in front of a dressing table. Like all the others, it had a large mirror with dazzling light bulbs all around it. The air had the hot, close scent of cosmetics and sweat, and there was an energy in the air that made her blood fizz with the feeling that something tremendously exciting was about to happen.
A beautiful woman in a slinky sequined dress sat at the next dressing table, carefully painting her full lips with red lipstick. She glanced at Whetū, and without taking her eyes off her, said to the magician, “Well, well … so this is the replacement rabbit?” She held out her red tipped nails and drawled, “Divine to meet you, darling.”
Whetū blinked at the hand for an instant before she realised she was supposed to shake it. She gently grasped the warm fingers and said, “Pleased to meet you too, er … darling.”
The woman smiled. “Where on earth did you find her? So fresh – so innocent! The audience will adore her. Before it devours her and spits her out again, as it does to all of us, eventually.”
“She’s my animal keeper,” said the magician, “and my new temporary stage assistant. Whetū, this is the fabulous Miss Pumbleduff.”
“Do you still have the old rabbit?” Miss Pumbleduff said, a wicked glint in her eye. “I’ll buy him off you. I have a hat that needs trimming.”
“You never liked him,” said the magician.
“Nobody did, darling,” said Miss Pumbleduff.
“Two minutes till curtain, Miss Pumbleduff!” called a boy wearing an old-fashioned cap, tweed jacket and pants, looking anxiously at a watch on a chain. Behind him was a closed door marked STAGE.
Miss Pumbleduff rose gracefully to her feet, blowing Whetū and the magician each a kiss. The chattering women in the sparkling red dresses immediately fell silent and got into line in front of her. The boy in the old-fashioned cap threw open the door, and the women clattered out. The boy respectfully bowed his head as Miss Pumbleduff sauntered past, a small smile on her red lips, then he closed the door behind her.
The room seemed bigger once they’d left.
“Five minutes till curtain, Juggling Gents, five minutes,” shouted the door boy.
“Is there a stage in your house?” asked Whetū.
“Oh no. Miss Pumbleduff is singing at a big casino in Las Vegas. She just likes to get dressed here.”
“So … the stage door leads to different stages around the world?” Whetū couldn’t quite work it out.
“Yes. The jugglers are heading off to Borneo, and the ventriloquist,” the magician pointed at the man with the wooden doll on his knee, “is going to a school in Sydney.”
The ventriloquist looked up and shrugged. “It was the only gig I could get,” he said mournfully. “People don’t seem to like talking dummies any more.”
“I don’t know about that,” the wooden doll shouted. “I happen to like you quite a lot!”
Whetū laughed, and the ventriloquist smiled.
“Do you use the stage door when you perform?” Whetū asked the magician.
“Not often. It’s too quick, and I like to travel. The journey often makes up for the destination. But we’ll use the door for our show. I wanted you to see it first so that you wouldn’t be nervous on the day.”
“I’m not nervous. Although I do feel strange. Tingly and excited.”
The magician smiled. “That’s good. That’s very good! I must say, you’re doing very well so far.”
Whetū smiled, but she felt a little silly. She hadn’t done anything much yet at all.
“Now, about your costume.” The magician tapped a thoughtful finger against his lower lip. “Not that there’s anything wrong with what you’re wearing, it’s just …”
Whetū tugged at her dress again. “It’s too small. Mum hasn’t been able to afford new clothes in ages. I don’t mind, though. I only wear jeans mostly, anyway.”
“I was going to say that when you’re on stage, you need something sparkly, glittery, to take the audience’s attention. If all eyes are on you, then they won’t see me do …”
He made a sudden movement with his arm, and there appeared in his hand a silver sequined dress with a matching pair of shoes. Whetū gasped. The wooden dummy clapped. The magician presented her with the dress with a flourish.
“Really? For me?”
“I think it will fit. Why don’t you hang it on one of those racks over there so it’s ready for dress rehearsal?”
Whetū did as he said and placed the shoes carefully underneath. The magician pinned labels to the dress and shoes. They read Whetū Toa, Stage Assistant to The Mighty Mikaere.
“There,” he said with satisfaction. “We’re halfway done already.”
He was moving towards the door as he spoke, and Whetū fell in behind him. Together they walked back onto the first floor landing. The magician shut the door, and the noise of the performers and the cry of, “One minute till curtain, Juggling Gents!” was cut off, leaving only silence.
“And now,” he said, “we shall go to rehearsal. We really haven’t a moment to lose.”
The magician led her up two more flights of stairs to a gallery. Unlike the floors below, there were no doors around the walls, just a single archway. Whetū followed the magician into a large empty room. One wall was covered with mirrored panels. A jumble of things took up one half of the room – a table with a top hat, a black cabinet, silver saws and swords, chains and scarves and a big cage that reminded Whetū of the one the carnivorous lamb was locked in.
“Props. I’ll show you the ones we’ll be using presently. But first, I need to share a little magic with you.”
“Will it hurt?” asked Whetū. A hint of nervousness was coming back.
“I shouldn’t think so. But it’s different for everyone. Some people are ready to accept a little magic in their lives, and some never will be, not even if they live to be a thousand years old. Hold out your hand.”
Whetū put out a trembling hand, and the magician firmly grasped it and closed his eyes. His lips began moving, muttering words that Whetū couldn’t understand. Finally he said something that sounded like, “Alaka kalaka zalama zoo!” and Whetū felt a fizzy warmth shoot up into her arm. It spread throughout her entire body and made her cheeks puff out in a little “Oh!” of astonishment.
“There!” said the magician. “Just as I thought. Perfectly ready for magic. Now, shall we begin?”
Whetū blinked. The world seemed different somehow. It was as though she was really seeing for the first time. Everything was clearer and brighter than before, and a faint golden glow lay over everything, as if lit by early summer sunlight. She had the strangest sense she could do anything she wanted, if only she tried hard enough.
“It takes a little getting used to,” the magician said. “Now, if you could please wheel over the little red table and the cabinet, and I’ll show you how we shall make our grand entrance. Let us begin!”