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I hated to admit it. But the Desmond kid played good vi’lin. The song he played had badum-badum exciting moments, as well as slow, sad moments, and fun, happy moments. I clapped along with everyone at the end of his performance. Yet, I noticed that the Desmond kid’s eyes kept flicking towards empty seats in the special, important people area.
“ Father… ” I heard him think to himself over and over as he exited the stage. “ I’ll definitely place first in the grade and get that Stella! ”
Papas and mamas could help in performances as well, but it seemed that the Desmond kid’s Papa and Mama didn’t show up again. I felt bad for him. I also had papas and mamas that had problems. But that was before I met my current Papa and Mama.
When I told Papa and Mama about the talent show, they were super happy to help. Well, Papa had some mean thoughts, but he still agreed to play the part of Bondman again. We were gonna act out a scene from the latest volume of Spy Wars . Papa helped write the script and make the costumes. Mama helped me learn my lines.
I was gonna be Princess Honey again. This time, however, I had a fancy, frilly, dress with a silver tiara. Mama would be Lady Thorne, the main bad guy in the volume. She was dressed a bit different from her manga version. Instead of the fancy suit and gun, Mama wore her black work dress with her sharp, pointy things.
“ This wasn’t in the manga, but… ” I smiled. “ I’m super, duper excited! ”
“What are you smirking for, huh?! Don’t think your silly play can beat my violin playing!” I’d accidentally smiled at the Desmond kid as he passed by.
“It’s got nothin’ to do with you,” I replied, turning away. “I’m just excited for my play.”
The Desmond kid gave me a hard look, glanced at Mama, who hesitantly waved, and then looked around. “Where’s your father? I thought you said he would be participating as well.”
“He is,” I informed, with my hands on my hips. “He’s just been super busy lately and running a bit late! He’ll definitely be here. Right, Mama?”
“O-of course, Anya!” Mama smiled. “Loid- I mean, your Papa would never miss this performance!”
Mama had been fine when we were practicing, but now, she seemed really nervous. She assured me she would be fine though. Mama had a potion of courage in a rectangular bottle that she had been taking sips from since we got backstage.
“See?” I turned back to the Desmond kid with an even larger smile.
“I hope so,” he commented with a sour look as he walked off with his instra’ment.
I had faith in Papa. But as the acts passed and our turn got closer, he still hadn’t come. Mama was nervously tracking the program and taking more sips of her courage potion. Her uneasiness was contagious. I found myself twiddling my thumbs, continuously glancing at the door. As the final act before us ended, I began fearing the worst.
Bang! The door to the backstage area flung open. Papa, wearing his usual suit and overcoat, strode in. He was dirty, with a bead of blood leaking from his forehead. His clothes were messy, slightly charred, and covered in a layer of ash. As he entered, he affixed Bondman’s signature fedora on his head.
“ So cool!” I squealed internally. I was about to tackle Papa with a hug, but Mama beat me to it. With a gust of wind, she vanished from next to me and reappeared wrapped around Papa. The force of her hug nearly knocked him to his butt. It seemed, however, that Papa was able to recover. But then, I felt his heart shatter.
“Yor!” he hissed, horrified. He snatched Mama’s rectangular bottle away from her. “Just what have you been drinking!?”
******
The program listed the Forgers’ act as up next. I didn’t have much expectations for the young Forger girl, Anya. Her behavior and personality were problematic. At the moment, she could hardly be considered elegant .
But, having heard her father and mother were both participating in the performance, I decided to view it with an open mind. The mother, Yor Forger, had displayed fine elegance during the admissions interview. However, it was the father, Loid Forger, that had captured my interest. Those resolute words he spoke that day resonated deeply with me, even now.
Soon, the lights dimmed. The young Forger girl began narrating the context of the scene. Her high-pitched, yet monotonous tone spoke of a princess kidnapped by a group of villains and the heroic spy tasked to save her. He foiled one villainous scheme after another, defeating each villain in succession, until one final obstacle stood between him and his goal.
Her narration had much to be desired. I was about to sigh in disappointment when Mr. Forger’s entrance stole my breath away. His suit and overcoat were ashen and charred. A trail of blood ran down his face. His eyes and posture bespoke the harshness of the trials he had overcome. Yet, there was strength, a steel forged through his tribulations. An ironclad determination to complete his mission and fulfill his duty to the very end. To think that a psychiatrist would have the talent to portray such character traits.
Ms. Forger was equally impressive. At the interview, she appeared to be your stereotypical mother and wife, yet now, the costume and prop weapons transformed her into a deadly beauty. She stepped out on stage with an unsteady gait, with shrill giggles mixed with hiccups. But when it came time to cross blades, she pounced with the ferocity of a tiger and the grace of a dancer. Was her initial uncoordinated nature simply a ruse or just a part of her character?
The showdown between Mr. and Ms. Forger’s characters matched the portrayal of their respective characters splendidly. Ms. Forger initiated the battle, lunging across the stage in a single bound. Her movements were almost too fast for my eyes to follow. Her strikes missed her husband by such thin margins that it almost felt like she was actually trying to kill him. But Mr. Forger held his ground against her relentless onslaught, weaving between her attacks. And as the fight progressed, Ms. Forger’s movements slowed. Her strikes weakened. Her form became sloppier. Mr. Forger exploited it immediately and struck her down.
As she collapsed, I realized I’d been holding my breath. When the play ended, I couldn’t help but give my first standing ovation of the night. The costumes and props the Forgers used were excellently designed and made. Mr. Forger’s acting was superb and while Ms. Forger’s acting was a little lacking, her role in their choreographed fight scene together more than compensated. They each had their own weakness but worked together to make the performance a success. That’s what made it so damn beautiful. So damn elegant!
“A fantastic performance,” I commented.
“It was a sight to behold, Mr. Henderson,” my colleague agreed, “but the performances… They’re meant to show off the students’ talents, right?”