nostril.
‘It’s not that bad, Mister Luger,’ the Great Bizmillah said as he stepped back towards the door, trying to escape before Luger exploded in front of him. ‘Whatever you want, is what you will get … She can stay, but all I ask is that you don’t allow her to throw knives at the audience again. They were only laughing, when she fell over they thought it was part of the act, that’s why they laughed.’
‘No one laughs at Monica,’ Luger screamed as he got to his feet. ‘Not even the guests. If they laughed, then they deservedit. Monica is an artiste , a creative genius. Believe me, Bizmillah, the name of Monica Momzer will be known throughout the world. Understand?’
‘Indeed, Mister Luger, we all understand and I will do everything in my power to –’ Bizmillah stopped speaking as he saw the look on Luger’s face.
‘I’m glad you see it my way, because that is the only way there is around here,’ he said in his sharp Texan drawl. ‘I came here penniless and everything you see belongs to me. Monica stays in the act or you don’t stay in the hotel, understand?’ Luger raised one eyebrow and his monocle fell to the desk. ‘If Monica’s happy, then I’m happy, and if I’m happy that means you get paid. Understand?’
Bizmillah didn’t reply. He bowed his head and looked to the floor as his hand rummaged for the door handle behind him. Several beads of sweat trickled across the top of his bald head and down among the tufts of hair that spiralled over his fine, pointed ears.
‘One more thing,’ Luger said as he again sat at his desk. ‘The boys … Any questions being asked as to why they keep disappearing?’
‘Not that I’ve heard, Mister Luger, not that I’ve …’ He thought for a moment, his mouth poised as if he had been suddenly silenced. ‘There … there is one problem,’ Bizmillah went on, stumbling for his words.
‘Speak, man.’ Luger motioned with his hand as he waggled his thick moustache from side to side.
‘Professor Bilton at the Colonial School said this would be the last boy. He asked where they had all gone, five in a year, and I told him we had lost them and he thought that rather clumsy. He said for the price we gave him, he couldn’t give us any more and Mariah Mundi would be the last.’
‘Mariah Mundi?’ Luger said as he looked up at the enormouscastle-shaped clock that hung above the door, its axe-head pendulum swinging menacingly back and forth as it ticked the seconds with every sharp swipe. ‘I was supposed to see the boy an hour ago. The last one … Mariah Mundi … Understand?’ Luger seemed confused; his hand ruffled the papers on the desk as if he looked for something important, something lost in the depths of his memory that he tried to find in the reality of the cluttered world before him. ‘That’s it,’ he exclaimed as he grabbed a piece of paper. ‘She wrote it here, a note for me … from Monica. She wants to cut him in half … in the matinee on Sunday. Said you do it every week and now it’s her turn and I had to ask you.’ Luger stopped and looked at Bizmillah as he joggled the tiny scrap of paper before him like a small fan. ‘It will be fine, won’t it? I don’t want to upset Monica, do I?’
Bizmillah ruffled in his green silk China suit, grabbing the billowing cuffs and wrapping them around his wrists anxiously. He clenched his teeth together, attempting to hold back the words that sat uncontrollably on his wan tongue. ‘Fine.’ He grimaced as the rage subsided enough for him to open his eyes and stare at Luger once more. ‘Whatever Mister Luger requires.’
‘So glad, so glad,’ Luger said softly as he again looked at the swinging of the pendulum, lost in its motion, dreamily watching the axe go back and forth. As the hands came together at the pinnacle of the castle keep it gently struck the midday.
It was then that the front of the clock burst open and a fanfare of tiny figures leapt on fine silver rods
‘It’s not that bad, Mister Luger,’ the Great Bizmillah said as he stepped back towards the door, trying to escape before Luger exploded in front of him. ‘Whatever you want, is what you will get … She can stay, but all I ask is that you don’t allow her to throw knives at the audience again. They were only laughing, when she fell over they thought it was part of the act, that’s why they laughed.’
‘No one laughs at Monica,’ Luger screamed as he got to his feet. ‘Not even the guests. If they laughed, then they deservedit. Monica is an artiste , a creative genius. Believe me, Bizmillah, the name of Monica Momzer will be known throughout the world. Understand?’
‘Indeed, Mister Luger, we all understand and I will do everything in my power to –’ Bizmillah stopped speaking as he saw the look on Luger’s face.
‘I’m glad you see it my way, because that is the only way there is around here,’ he said in his sharp Texan drawl. ‘I came here penniless and everything you see belongs to me. Monica stays in the act or you don’t stay in the hotel, understand?’ Luger raised one eyebrow and his monocle fell to the desk. ‘If Monica’s happy, then I’m happy, and if I’m happy that means you get paid. Understand?’
Bizmillah didn’t reply. He bowed his head and looked to the floor as his hand rummaged for the door handle behind him. Several beads of sweat trickled across the top of his bald head and down among the tufts of hair that spiralled over his fine, pointed ears.
‘One more thing,’ Luger said as he again sat at his desk. ‘The boys … Any questions being asked as to why they keep disappearing?’
‘Not that I’ve heard, Mister Luger, not that I’ve …’ He thought for a moment, his mouth poised as if he had been suddenly silenced. ‘There … there is one problem,’ Bizmillah went on, stumbling for his words.
‘Speak, man.’ Luger motioned with his hand as he waggled his thick moustache from side to side.
‘Professor Bilton at the Colonial School said this would be the last boy. He asked where they had all gone, five in a year, and I told him we had lost them and he thought that rather clumsy. He said for the price we gave him, he couldn’t give us any more and Mariah Mundi would be the last.’
‘Mariah Mundi?’ Luger said as he looked up at the enormouscastle-shaped clock that hung above the door, its axe-head pendulum swinging menacingly back and forth as it ticked the seconds with every sharp swipe. ‘I was supposed to see the boy an hour ago. The last one … Mariah Mundi … Understand?’ Luger seemed confused; his hand ruffled the papers on the desk as if he looked for something important, something lost in the depths of his memory that he tried to find in the reality of the cluttered world before him. ‘That’s it,’ he exclaimed as he grabbed a piece of paper. ‘She wrote it here, a note for me … from Monica. She wants to cut him in half … in the matinee on Sunday. Said you do it every week and now it’s her turn and I had to ask you.’ Luger stopped and looked at Bizmillah as he joggled the tiny scrap of paper before him like a small fan. ‘It will be fine, won’t it? I don’t want to upset Monica, do I?’
Bizmillah ruffled in his green silk China suit, grabbing the billowing cuffs and wrapping them around his wrists anxiously. He clenched his teeth together, attempting to hold back the words that sat uncontrollably on his wan tongue. ‘Fine.’ He grimaced as the rage subsided enough for him to open his eyes and stare at Luger once more. ‘Whatever Mister Luger requires.’
‘So glad, so glad,’ Luger said softly as he again looked at the swinging of the pendulum, lost in its motion, dreamily watching the axe go back and forth. As the hands came together at the pinnacle of the castle keep it gently struck the midday.
It was then that the front of the clock burst open and a fanfare of tiny figures leapt on fine silver rods
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