The Marionette Theater
“What do you mean you can’t fit us into your schedule? Don’t try and tell me you’re a popular place to be! If you don’t want my business, I’m not going to bother with this,” Megan hung up the phone and stared at the window at the lakeshore below. A knock at the door pulled her away from the hues in the sky to all the papers on her desk.
“No luck?” John asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t get a place that’ll let us perform. Apparently the Ballet of the Dying Roses doesn’t sound like a popular play.”
“Is it that, or that no place you’ve called has a stage big enough. This isn’t exactly a small puppet show you put on.”
“But every time I do it, everyone loves it.”
“That was when you were sponsored,” he sat down at the chair facing her desk and fell back putting his hands behind his head. “I just got off the phone with a large agency and they allowed us to rent out an empty theater they bought before its scheduled demolition. Every month we have to pay for rent and extra stuff for renovating the building and advertising, in exchange for putting their name on programs.”
“I hate working with agencies. It’s so…low.”
“I know. But all we have to do is give them credit and pay rent. No percentage of the cost we make, no rules to follow on how to run it. There are no strings attached.”
She sighed loudly and rubbed her index fingers to her temples. “You know what,” she said finally. “Fine, I don’t care. Make the deal. By the way,” she said as he got up, “what agency?”
He bit his lip. “Sandalwood.”
He shut the door as he heard her screaming about politics and the swindlers behind the company trying to buy her puppet show business and walked to his desk. He cautiously dialed the telephone.
>“Hello, Sandalwood Company headquarters. How may I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to speak to Mark Tan. I told him I would call him back on the matter of renting a theater.”
The theater was dusty and gray, not much of a sight inside or out. John and Megan looked at each other and started in the middle of the lobby with the paper work and finances. The first step was working on the electronics, which were updated and rewired through the entire house, lobby, and stage. Curtains were replaced and an inner sheer curtains were installed on the inside. Megan insisted that they were able to change them according to the play. Then, the walls were painted on the inside and outside; new carpet was put in the theater and tile in the lobby. The bathrooms were redesigned and renovated and the stairs were fixed and a new railing put on. They painted backstage and set up a studio for making and clothing the dolls in the back behind the stage. On stage right they set up a closet for the costumes and props and set up a series of wooden boxes where the puppets were kept. The lids opened outward and each puppet’s name was engraved on the “door.” Another closet was put in stage left to hold supplies, such as paint and extra curtains, for their plays. The seats were re-cushioned and new windows were put in.
“Finally, we have just enough to put a name on the outside.” Megan said ecstatically.
“Will we have enough money for heating and air-conditioning, or to buy tickets from the publications company for the play? And we need some cash to pay our puppeteers” John said looking around pleased.
“Well then what do you suggest we do outside?”
They ended up having a friend of theirs paint a metal sign outside above the door: The Marionette Theater.
“Cheep, but I’ll live with it for now,” Megan said dismissively.
It was Thursday night when the play was preformed and John was nervous.
“Stop pacing,” Megan said annoyed.
“I swear this is not The Producers! What if it flops?”
“Then it flops and we do one that the audience likes more. The Funeral March seemed to go well, if I remember correctly.”
The lights went down in the house and Megan took a little breath excitedly. John watched the reactions of people throughout the entire play and listened to the audience during intermission on the intercom back stage. Megan walked around with the people talking and making sure that everything ran well. She stopped under the speaker at one point and struck up a conversation with what sounded like someone who had approached her leaving the bathroom.
“Did you write this?” a woman asked. She sounded shocked.
“Well, I didn’t write it. I only direct. My business partner John wrote it.”
“It’s a brilliant piece of work. Perhaps I can meet him. I write short stories for various magazines and I would love to meet him and maybe do an interview.”
“Well if you meet me after the show I can arrange something. He prefers not to be around for people to criticize his work.”
“I know the type,” the woman said laughing. “It’s really a brilliant idea doing a play with puppets. I’m sure it cuts the time on rehearsals down a bit.”
“I’ve always been the kind of girl to love puppet shows.”
The lights must have flickered on and off in the lobby because they both said good-bye and promised to meet by the right box seats after the performance.
“It really was brilliant,” the woman said shaking hands with John. He smiled but didn’t say anything.
“Have you written any plays?” Megan asked to fill the silence.
“I personally have not but I have a few ideas which you might like to turn into a play. Perhaps we could contact each other sometime.”
They exchanged office phone numbers and watched her leave into the street.
“Total success! I told you it would be,” Megan punched him lightly on the arm.
“Alright, you win,” John said and walked towards the backstage. The actors had left and the dolls were put away for the night in their labeled cases.
“I’d better go home and start writing another play for the next time,” he said turning around.
“Why?” Megan asked. She was busily putting the costumes hangers and hanging them up. “This will go on for a while longer.”
“Because we have to have a schedule and you’re better off having a pile of ideas for performances. Besides, we could get them out faster.”
“True,” she said nostalgically. “I would love to have something else to work on. Write something fantastical, all right? I feel like making marionette dragons.”
John laughed. “We’ll see what my muse says. I’ll see you at one tomorrow.”
