The Playmakers by Graeme Johnstone

troupe
entered town, and turned it into a tour de force.
    “It’s a vital job, my boy,” enthused Budsby,
when he appointed him. “Without it, we would not round up
customers. Remember, in entertainment, there is no such thing as a
little part - only little people incapable of making something big
of a part.”
    And indeed, if there was a pivotal point in
his career, it was the day in the small town of Huddersfield, when
he noticed that simply spinning the banner drew oohs and aahs from
the entertainment-starved villagers. He began to waggle it more,
turn circles, march backwards with it, all the while, smiling. He
decorated it with coloured pieces of cloth, he festooned it with
bells, and he developed a brilliant technique of throwing the
entire banner and pole in a loop in the air, and then catching
it.
    The smiling Shakespeare began spruiking, too,
shouting, “Follow me, ladies and gentlemen, to where the wonders of
the world await you, and you will be astounded by all you see.”
    Budsby noted that this theatrical addition to
what had been a fairly straightforward presentation began to make a
small but significant improvement in interest and therefore
takings.
    It also inspired Soho to new heights, his
reinvigorated acrobatic leaps and amusing tactics becoming the talk
of central England as the show rolled inexorably on.
    Shakespeare also won people over with the
smile and easy repartee.
    “How much do you expect me to throw onto the
stage?” said a lady one day.
    “Only a copper, ma’am,” replied Shakespeare.
“And half that for children.”
    “But what if I’ve got nineteen kids?”
    “We’ll put you in the show, instead …”
    Budsby would smile at the thought he was
developing the perfect showman - albeit that Shakespeare, after
taking many days to recover from the gigantic hangover he had on
the first day they met, eventually rediscovered his love for
ale.
    And every now and then Budsby would have to
go down to the main tavern in whatever village they were working
in, and extricate his young genius and Soho, who would be sitting
on the bar entertaining the crowd with his funny faces in between
tankards.
    Of course, while he was down there, Mr Budsby
himself would partake of a couple of drinks, for medicinal
purposes, only … and sometimes when they staggered back to camp it
was difficult to work out who was actually extricating who from the
danger of the demon drink.
    However, it was at Bristol, that life really
changed for Shakespeare.
    While putting together the structure for the
wirewalker, he casually mentioned to the star performer that at
some point in his act, he should make a deliberate mistake. “Let
one foot slip, and appear as if you are going to fall to the
ground, but grab the wire at the last second and hang on,” said
Shakespeare. “Then slowly battle your way back to safety.”
    The wirewalker, Viktor The Supreme, was
shocked at such a suggestion and stormed off to see Budsby and
demand Shakespeare’s instant dismissal.
    A diminutive, well-muscled character with a
taut frame, he was believed to be part Russian, from the Ottoman
area, somewhere near the border of Turkey. But even with his
limited English, the sallow-skinned Victor managed to make it clear
that such a proposal was an affront to his skills.
    “Either he go, or I go,” said Viktor to
Budsby in the big man’s wagon, his dark eyes flaring with
anger.
    Budsby was in a quandary and sought an
explanation from Shakespeare, now almost a son to him.
    “I simply feel it would add an element never
seen before in such an act,” explained Shakespeare.
    ‘Go on,” said Budsby flatly.
    “You see, Viktor is perfect.”
    “Of course,” Viktor chipped in.
    “They expect him to be perfect,” Shakespeare
added.
    “Is right,” said Viktor.
    “But at the end of the act, he is so good,
they do not realise what danger he has put himself in, and what
skills he needs to avoid that danger.”
    “So?” said Viktor