Mabel’s Magic Moment

This full scene was originally included in an early draft of Fright on Stage Right but I removed segments during a round of edits which was focused on pacing. The published version of this scene cuts some of the extra stuff that was delaying us getting to our victim’s untimely death, keeping only key aspects relevant for the murder, and I think the novel is ultimately better for it.

In saying that, I had such a great time writing the full version of this scene! It features a bit of fun and flirtation, some extra Mabel, and a sneaky peek at a magician’s secrets. This extended edition is 50% longer than the Chapter 11 in the published novel, giving us a little more time to marvel at our performers’ special talents. I hope you enjoy it!

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Mabel’s Magic Moment

Fright on Stage Right
Chapter 11 (Extended Edition)

G. B. Ralph

The first thing Addison noticed about being on stage was the heat pouring from the lights. He didn’t understand how the performers’ makeup hadn’t melted off their faces. The other thing about the lights was that they were bright, practically blinding. Addison could barely make out the audience from his newly elevated position, though there was no hiding the two eliminated queens – with their big, bright costumes – who had joined the back of the audience to enjoy the second round.

The first contestant to return to the stage was Dame Tuck Shop, who entered once again pushing her trolley. However, she had switched out her matronly dinner lady costume for a sleek flight attendant’s outfit. She showed off her business class service skills for the judging panel, first offering small hot towels with a set of tongs, presented with a great flourish for the audience’s benefit. While they refreshed their hands, she served a selection of cheeses and crackers, with the cheese-to-cracker ratio heavily weighted towards the cheese, which Addison appreciated very much. And then she poured three glasses of bubbles, filling the flutes right to the brim, leaving the bottle in front of the mayor with the comment that she might need it.

The skit was part running commentary, part stand-up comedy routine, and entirely tongue in cheek. Loudly deferential, with much over-the-top complimenting of the judges’ positive attributes, and many reminders that they were a full-service airline, that it would be her great pleasure to offer them her personal touch, all they need do was ask.

The audience was amused, laughing along at all the right points and ending with enthusiastic applause.

Addison happily sipped and munched away as Dame Tuck Shop finished her number and he considered the stack of large cards before him, numbered one to ten. From his perspective, the business class service deserved full marks, so he proudly held up the card bearing the number 10.

He finished his in-flight snacks as Dame Tuck Shop made her departure. He concentrated on the chewing and swallowing more than the average adult might, as he was known to forget such basic things, and the last thing he wanted right then was a choking fit on stage.

Still, he couldn’t help noticing that, too distracted from waving her farewells, the dame accidentally rammed her trolley into the faux stone wall lining the back of the stage. He knew it was only a set piece, likely made of plywood, but it didn’t budge at all – an impressively solid construction.

Her waving hand flew to her mouth in an exaggerated ‘Oops!’ before she quickly tottered off stage.

Addison took a moment to check his front for any crumbs, and when he looked back up, he found the next act had already taken the stage. It was Miss Candy Less looking like nothing so much as a gothic candy cane. Her form-fitting bodysuit sported bold red and white stripes, with bursts of black lace at the ankles, wrists, and neck.

She performed a choreographed dance and gymnastics routine to Lady Gaga’s ‘Abracadabra’ – aerial cartwheels, backflips, handstand pirouettes, death drops, the lot, and all the more impressive for being done in heels.

As the song’s end neared, Addison saw the mayor preparing her 10 card – the only correct score for a fan favourite in front of the home crowd. He did likewise, as did Patrick Laurence. The final note dropped and Miss Candy Less froze in a dramatic pose, the judges hoisting their cards to the roaring approval of the audience.

Candy took her time basking in the adulation, smiling and throwing out plenty of air kisses to a delighted crowd.

Addison was starting to relax into his unwanted role. Nobody paid the judges any real attention behind their sarcophagus, with all eyes on the performance until the moment they presented their scorecards. And provided they didn’t throw up any particularly miserly scores, they ought to be safe.

The final contestant – Little Red Riding Wood – appeared in the shadows on the far side of the stage – out of sight of the audience but in full view of the judges – awaiting her cue.

From what Addison could see, she wore a sparkly black dress constructed with as little fabric as she could manage without any important parts falling out.

Her cape was another story, reaching all the way to the ground and made of the same sparkly black fabric on the outside but lined with a silky red satin on the inside. To finish the look, she wore a pair of long white gloves.

She had before her what appeared to be a large wooden trunk – think pirate’s treasure chest – which she’d nudged up to the edge of the curtain with her knee.

On her cue, she bent double and pushed her trunk from the wings towards centre stage to much anticipatory applause.

From Addison’s newly elevated position, he could see she was aiming for the large red X taped to the stage which Cilla had mentioned earlier. He could also see that it was centred on a square marked out by very narrow but distinct gaps in the floorboards.

The trapdoor.

The gateway to the underworld where the first round’s unsuccessful contestants had been so dramatically banished.

Little Red Riding Wood positioned the trunk covering the front and the side edges of the trapdoor, leaving only the back half of the trapdoor extending beyond the back of the trunk.

The latest contestant made a show of dusting herself down, wiping her brow, and touching up her wig just so. She then went through the motions of proving to the audience that there was nothing inside the trunk before bringing a microphone to her lips.

‘Now, my darlings,’ she said, drawing out the word as if everyone in attendance was her most special someone. ‘Who would like to get into my box?’

A flurry of hands shot straight up into the air. More arms were raised with a not-so-subtle finger arched over to point down at the person at their side. And even more people, Addison could see, would rather be anywhere else – an urge he could absolutely understand.

‘You know, I keep finding my gaze drawn to this gentleman in the centre of the front row…’ Little Red Riding Wood looked down to the seat beside the one Addison had recently vacated.

Jake stiffened almost imperceptibly, but otherwise kept his posture and facial expression neutral. Mabel sat on the other side of Jake from Addison’s vacant seat and showed no such restraint, her face beaming as she looked between the man at her side and the drag queen on stage.

‘My, what big shoulders you have… What big arms you have… What else, I wonder…’

Little Red Riding Wood appeared to think it over while Jake remained as stiff as a board.

‘No, you just will not do. You’re just too big. You wouldn’t fit in my box, I’m afraid.’ Little Red Riding Wood shook her head. ‘No, I’m sure we could squeeze you in, but we don’t have time for that. What about your friend? I think you might be the perfect size.’

Mabel looked over, well aware Addison’s seat next to Jake was currently unoccupied, and that she was the only potential candidate as Jake’s ‘friend’.

‘Morticia Addams, is it? Yes, my darling, please stand up and give as a twirl.’

Requiring no further encouragement, Mabel handed Jake her handbag and did as instructed, to much applause.

‘I had to check you weren’t too small either. Don’t want you getting lost in there – can’t have you rattling around in my box, unable to even touch the sides.’ Little Red Riding Wood appeared to consider her candidate before nodding once. ‘Yes, come and join me on stage, if you please. I think you will do perfectly, darling. I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have in my box than Morticia Addams.’

Mabel, delighted to be involved, bustled up the steps to stand beside the drag queen and her trunk. Addison gave her a quick thumbs-up, pleased for his friend that she got to be involved, knowing that she’d be loving every second of it.

‘Please welcome to the stage, my gorgeous assistant.’

The audience cheered and Mabel offered a smile and nod of acknowledgement.

‘Mrs Addams, may I call you Morticia?’ Little Red Riding Wood said, before lifting the microphone in front of Mabel.

‘Of course you may.’

‘Wonderful. You may call me Little Red.’ She reached an arm across Mabel’s back, placing a white-gloved hand on her shoulder. ‘Now, there’s no need to be afraid. Just give me a moment to prepare my box for your entry. Hold this for me a moment, will you?’

Little Red handed Mabel the microphone, withdrew her other hand, and without warning clapped once. The contact produced an unexpectedly loud bang which reverberated around the space at the same time an impressive puff of smoke erupted from her hands.

The judging panel and audience alike jerked back into their seats with more than a few gasps and squeals of surprise. It took Addison a second to recover, but once he had, he noticed the trapdoor had swung open – the clap-bang having acted as auditory misdirection.

Addison could see, as could all on stage, that Little Red had positioned the trunk over the front half of the trapdoor’s opening, with the back half open to the air. Through that gap, Addison could make out the rungs of a short ladder descending into the space below the stage. There appeared to be little clearance down there, which would explain why the performers vanquished in the previous round had to duck to get properly out of sight. Then it would have been an awkwardly hunched, bent-over shuffle to get backstage again. The stage lighting meant the judges could see all this from their position, but any view of it was shielded from the audience by the trunk itself.

This was a clever and tightly orchestrated performance.

Little Red reclaimed her microphone, ran her other hand along the length of the trunk’s lid before rapping it with her knuckles three times, causing the lid to pop open. ‘The magic touch,’ she said with a smile by way of explanation. ‘Morticia?’

‘Yes?’

‘If you would be so kind as to climb into my box, and when I say the magic word, you will disappear. How does that sound?’

Mabel glanced into the trunk. Presuming it didn’t have a base, she must be seeing the trapdoor’s opening in the centre of the trunk, with a strip of the stage floor to either side. She smiled and nodded.

‘Take my hand,’ Little Red said, which Mabel did, but as Mabel lifted a leg to scale the side of the trunk they both realised they’d come up against the limitations of her costume.

‘Hmm… Looks like it’s time to put all those hours at the gym to use for once.’ Little Red rolled her shoulders and shook out her well-defined arms before holding her hands out in front, approximating the height and width of Mabel’s waist. ‘Would you mind if I gave you a little boost?’

Mabel clearly considered the potential indignities if anything went wrong, but decided it was worth the risk to remain involved. ‘Go on then,’ she said.

‘That’s what I like to hear. Another cheer for my daring assistant.’

The audience obliged as Little Red hoisted Mabel over the edge and placed her inside the trunk. Mabel nodded once she had her footing and Little Red released her.

‘You duck your head, Morticia, and I’ll shut you in.’

Little Red did just that, then what followed was much magical, mystical woo-woo, with lots of hand waving and skipping about, all with a touch of theatricality and humour. Meanwhile, in full view of the judges but out of sight of the audience, Mabel picked her way down the ladder. She ducked out of the way as the trapdoor returned to its closed position, once more clunking into place, as if it had been there all along.

‘And now for the magic word,’ Little Red said with an air of impending triumph. ‘You may recall it from the very talented and alarmingly flexible Miss Candy Less who just spent three minutes and forty-three seconds hurling herself around the stage to it. Do you know the magic word I’m talking about? Yes? OK, here we go: uno… dos… tres… abracadabra!’

With the final syllable, Little Red Riding Wood gripped the trunk’s latch and flung the lid off, each of the sides falling back onto the stage with a thunk to reveal absolutely nothing. It was as if Mabel Zhou had magically vanished.

A simple trick. And Addison suspected more than a few Milverton residents knew about the trapdoor – especially after the previous round – but the talent was in the drama and spectacle of the execution. A captivating performance that earnt a well-deserved round of applause.

Little Red Riding Wood let the applause roll on for a few moments, flip-flopping between suggesting they were too much, really, and that they should keep going, please. She offered ostentatious bows throughout, and when the applause was finally petering out, she said, ‘Thank you for coming out tonight, Milverton. If you’ve enjoyed my performance, I’ve been Little Red Riding Wood. If you haven’t, I’ve been the Big Bad Wolf.’ She started to walk off stage, to laughter, cheers, and a cacophony of calls which included ‘Yes’, ‘Hey’, ‘Oi’, and ‘What’, before settling on a chant – ‘Bring her back! Bring her back!’ – that soon had everyone joining in.

Fully off stage now and out of sight of the audience, Little Red stood alongside Miss Candy Less and Dame Tuck Shop, all waiting in the wings.

Little Red let the chant run a few more times before she ducked her head back from behind the side curtain. ‘Did you want me to bring her back?’

The crowd cheered their loudest yet, with the judging panel joining in too.

‘Oh, all right then,’ Little Red said, returning to her collapsed trunk at centre stage. ‘Now, we smashed my box wide open a little earlier, so let me just put it back together or my lovely assistant – Morticia Addams herself – will have nowhere to reappear.’ She made a show of bending over and lifting each of the sides back to vertical and snapping them into place before finally latching the lid closed again.

‘OK, that’s all set,’ she said, levering herself back upright and wiping her brow from all the manual labour. ‘So, we already know the magic word to make someone disappear? But what about making them reappear?’

‘Abracadabra!’

‘Kapow!’

‘Ta-da!’

‘Huzzah!’

‘Voilà!’

‘Please!’

‘You’re all wrong, I’m afraid,’ Little Red said. ‘But my favourite was the “please” – whoever said that, your mother would be so proud. No, you’ll kick yourself when you hear it, especially anyone who was a Pokémon fan as a child. Or an adult, of course, no judgement here—’

‘Alakazam.’

It wasn’t until Little Red turned to face the judging panel behind the sarcophagus, locking onto Addison, that he realised he’d said it out loud – his second slip-up that evening.

He could already feel the blood crawling up his neck, but instead of slipping into the familiar sensation of embarrassment, he took a deep breath and nodded once. Why shouldn’t he know the answer? He was going to own it.

Addison may not have been able to remember where he’d left his keys, what he’d had for breakfast, or so often what he’d gone upstairs for, but you bet he could still rattle off the home phone number of his best friend from primary school as well as the names and key statistics of all 151 of the original Pokémon.

‘That’s correct,’ Little Red said. ‘It’s like you read my mind. Alakazam. Now, just to be sure my box is ready for action again…’ She tucked her microphone under one arm, clapped her gloved hands together, and the trapdoor dropped open just as it had done the first time. When no movement could be seen through the now-open trapdoor, Little Red directed her voice rather pointedly to the box and said, ‘I sure hope my assistant is ready to return.’

Mabel took the hint, immediately working her way back up the ladder.

‘All right, one last time, everybody. You know the magic word. Un… deux… trois…’

‘Alakazam!’

Little Red flung back the lid of her box and Mabel popped her head out the top to great fanfare, much applause, and once again full marks from the judges.

Not even Mabel’s slightly undignified hoisting from the box by the muscle-bound Little Red Riding Wood could diminish the joyous moment. The magician and her lovely assistant were taking their bows when Cilla Slay reappeared, clearly having had enough of others basking in the audience’s adulation.

Ready for more from Milverton?

If this was your first time in Milverton: If you’re new to The Milverton Mysteries, check out the novel where this scene comes from: Fright on Stage Right. Or, start from the start with Addison’s first misadventure in Murder on Milverton Square.

If you’re a regular visitor to Milverton: Firstly, it’s great to have you here! Secondly, you can be assured that Addison will return…