Magic To Do

Frantic footsteps fill the space outside the dressing room. The air was sticky from heavy breathing. It smelt of dripping sweat and hairspray. The stench of unwashed costumes combined with the flurry of setting powder in the air made me choke. My head spun and faces blurred in and out of my vision. Pale, white faces, dripping in stage blood, decoratively painted, stared back from the mirror. Hearts raced, a stream of excitement, anxiety, and emotions wound its way around us like a snake. Fiction and reality wrestled in our minds as our characters began to take over. Suddenly, I was alone. My little skirt offered no protection from the cold, dusty floor. A slight breeze brushed past my leg, escaping from the door propped open. I was in the dark corner backstage by the door. The world spun and around me clowns and characters rushed to their places. I was protected from the swarm, hidden in my lonely brick cubby. No one seemed to see me, I was alone. My head weighed heavy in my hands and someone seemed to be pushing me into the ground. Was this even real? It felt as though someone had found the loose string in my brain and began to pull, unraveling everything. I’m not really here, this isn't really me. What is this? Where am I? I began to pass out. I couldn't breathe. Reaching out for the wall, anything to keep me steady, a hand gripped mine and the world went dark.  

Rehearsal dragged on long into the night. “Again,” echoed throughout my skull. My muscles ache and my lungs felt like giving out. The bright lights seemed to drill holes in my head and voices rattled my brain. I felt like collapsing. My sweat ran lines down my forehead and my heart pounded in my chest. Another step, just another movement, just one more time. I want to leave, I want to quit. Anything to get out of here. Cold white lights bore down on me, burning my eyes. I reached deep inside me searching for any last spark of energy. As they demanded more, I found I brought less and less. Was I supposed to be here? Why am I doing this to myself? 

“Rivers belong where they can ramble

Eagles belong where they can fly

I've got to be where my spirit can run free

Gotta find my corner of the sky”

As I sang those lines I wondered, was it true? Was this mine or was I simply lying to myself, forcing myself into this suffering for one moment of joy?

“Hey, hey what happened? Are you okay?” I shook my pounding head, trying to bring my view back into focus. 

“Why won't my hands stop shaking

When all the earth is still”

The images spun, not registering in my brain. I lay on the floor, two people hovering over me. On their faces were painted eerie smiles and tear drops. One had a gash dripping with blood on their forehead and their face was white as a ghost. I recoiled, lurching back startled. It took a few seconds before I recognized them as my friends, in full makeup and costume, ready to go onstage. I began to cry, sobbing against the wall. My skin crawled and I wanted to scream. I couldn't breathe and my chest wracked as I gasped for air. I needed to get out of here, run, anywhere but here. I felt them grab me, pulling me up as I slid down the wall. Arms wrapped around me, holding me tight and hands rubbed my back gently. Their soft voices eased over me like a blanket. Shaking, I softened into their embrace. It must have been a strange sight, three clowns all crying in a doorway. 

A hush came over the audience, the lights dimmed. I heard Carrie step onto stage, the microphone crackling as she announced the show. Pippin! The thing I had dedicated my life to for the past three months. And this was it, closing night. My head still spun. I was Pippin, I was trying to find my purpose, I was drowning in this endless sea. The audience erupted in applause and the bright spotlight lit up the stage. We took our places and the lights began to beat down like a thousand suns. “Think about the sun, Pippin. Think about her golden glance. How she lights the world up! Well...now it's your chance.”

Step right, leap left. Spin. Smile. Remember your steps. Breathe. Reach for the lights and let the songs envelope you.   

“We’ve got magic to do. Just for you”

As we took our bows I watched the audience cheer. They beamed with joy, grateful for the entertainment we had provided. It was never real but they applauded nonetheless. They loved the show we put on. They will never know, never see what happened backstage. When your show is good enough, no one cares what it took from you to put it on. No one sees behind the curtain, no one takes off the mask. Don't we all go from one show back to another? We hide behind our curtains and put on our masks. We search for our mark, always feeling one beat behind. But we return to that show, day after day. It is far less glamorous, without the fancy costumes or dramatic makeup. No script guides you and no director leads the way. There is no music, no intermission, and no ending in sight.