Smoke stung her eyes causing tears to roll down her soot covered cheeks as she crawled through the burning theatre. I can non breathe! was they only coherent thought her mind could form as the oppressive heat from the fires bared down all around her. She had to get out, but she could barely remember where she was let alone how to escape. Her body shook from coughing, black mucus splashed the wood floor below her face. It was all she could do to keep crawling forward.
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A smile swept across Suzette’s face as she saw her two best friends, Jacques and Marie, peek out of the costume closet and beckon to her. She ran to meet them and slipped inside the room before anyone could see. This was their refuge when there was difficult work to be done. Suzette flopped down on a pile of costumes that needed repairing and tugged the bottle of whiskey that she had just taken from the kitchens out of her pocket. Each slacker took a gulp, grimaced, and then passed the bottle to the next eager drunk. The bottle was half empty before any of them spoke.
“What show is it again zhey are building for?” Marie gave a small hiccup as she spoke. She was a bit part player who had to earn her keep at the theatre by helping the stagehands build sets. She dreamed of gracing the stages of Port-a-Lucine as a leading lady some day, she just had to bide her time.
“I ‘ave non idea. Does it really matter anyway? Zhey are all zhe same after awhile.” a grin grew on his lips as Jacques snatched the bottle of whiskey out of Marie’s hands. Jacques was a handsome boy hired on to help behind the scenes only a few months ago. “We will all be sitting backstage listening to Madame Amelia stumble zhrough ‘er lines and try non to laugh zhe entire time.” Both of the girls couldn’t help but giggle.
“At least zhey finally got a gown big enough for Babette to squeeze ‘er ‘am’ocks into. I swear zhe last time ‘er dress ‘ad to be let out she almost ate zhe seamstress.” This from Suzette. All three huddled together in a fit of laughter. “Maybe she did…’ave you seen ‘er recently? Zhat could be where Babette’s fourth chin ‘as come from.”
The three fell silent as they heard a slow knock on the door. They cursed and scrambled as they tried to make themselves appear busy in the small closet. Slowly the door creaked open and a very small man with skin dark as black coffee looked inside with a frown on his face. “What ‘ave I told you three about coming in here when zhere is work to be done?!” his voice belied his size as it boomed into the room. “Get out ‘ere now!” Nearly knocking each other over, the three tumbled into the hallway. Other stagehands smirked as they went about their business carrying wood, paint, and other tools toward the stage. “Now you three are going to run and fetch us all more supplies around town. Et non…you can non use zhe mule. Carry it yourselves.” With a smirk he thrust a list into Suzette’s hands and they all waited in the hall looking crestfallen until the man had gone.
“Damn Blackjack…” Suzette looked over the list and divided it into thirds. She was in charge of paint, cloth, and black powder. “Alright ‘urry up and get your zhings done I ‘ave somezhing I want to show you all later.” They all said goodbye and went about to get their errands done.
