Part Two: The Good Audience

Terror takes on great meaning for a kid in the face of potential failure. With an adult, the ones who are used to public performing, or speaking, there are vast reservoirs of experience from which they can claim redemption.....on the stage......in front of seas of friendly, or sometimes neutral faces. I had watched my dad break the ice during many sober moments when he gave talks. He used a joke, or a funny story, well placed at the moments he sensed he was losing some of his listeners to distraction.

I was always proud of the way Dad spoke to the grownups at Lions Club, or at church, and I learned early on that most folks wanted the speaker, or performer to succeed. I wrote down some my best jokes, the clean ones, and I memorized them.

With the Cub Scout Performance night, “Magic” just a few days away, and my newly arrived Magic Kit being a lame disappointment, I knew I had to come up with something totally my own. I took the images I had conjured in my previous night’s sleep very seriously.

In the dream I had heard a voice, a far off voice inside a school gymnasium. The gym was glistening with old polished wood and slippery green tile. I lay on a short bench at one end of the gym, on the court, with someone leaning over me as if they were listening to my breathing. There were large, violet colored forms hovering over me……seeming to watch me with a strange, serene detachment……

When I woke that next morning, I was seized with joy for four important reasons:

1. It was Saturday……

2. NBC was showing the George Reeves episode on “How Superman got to Earth.”

3. Joey & Red were coming over to watch it with me.

4. I had come up with an incredible trick for the Cub Scout’s “Magic” night.


The morning was clear and brisk outside, and the joys of what lay ahead for the day softened me a little. I took the mail order package into my room. In my Magic Kit, the floating mummy trick was laying on top. It was the most lame of all the tricks.

The graphics on the box showed an exquisitely modeled small figure hovering above an elaborate sarcoughogus; just free floating……The picture showed the figure trailing a dotted line, suggesting the little mummy started at the coffin, and was in the process of floating up……The whole trick was about the size of my little finger, and the piece of shit didn’t float. It had some sort of magnet in the coffin that made the little figure flip out of the coffin when you tried to put it down to it’s final rest………….

“Man! Did they think kids were that stupid?”

On my sixth try, the little mummy flipped out of the coffin, fell on the floor and broke open. A small, square magnet lay on the floor among the pieces.

“Dibs on the magnet!” My brother’s voice entered the room before his arm shot through my doorway and grabbed the newly liberated magnet.

“Go ahead…..You can take it.” I scooped up the broken figure fragments and threw them away. I imagined the tiny coffin would have been a suitable final container for my miniature turtle who had died last year. I had buried him in a matchbox, not having anything else at the time. I wondered if I should disinter him and use the small, plastic coffin, bestowing a proper burial on the little guy.

Like an idiot, I told my brother about the coffin idea.

I was always conflicted about what ideas I shared with him. I could never help expressing the really bad ones,..... and always at inappropriate times.

“Listen, I’m reading…….You are not a little kid anymore. That’s a real dumb-shit idea. Now if the coffin were bigger, we could use it to put you in when you die at your performance.”

I was puzzled. “I’m not gonna do anything that kills me.”

“That’s what comedians say turd-brain. When no one laughs at their jokes, they say, ‘I died out there’, or ‘I died last night.’ You're no comedian, ass-wipe!”

A memory came back to me, and I smiled to myself, because I knew I had an idea that would not fail……I wanted to get one up on my brother........"You know, I heard Jimmy Durante say, ‘I knocked ‘em dead!’................. You just wait!”

That Saturday afternoon, Joey and Red came over and we sat down to watch Superman. When the first commercial came around, Joey stood up.

“Hey man, did you know Scott Hurly is doin' a trick at the performance night?”

I knew other kids might perform, but I really didn’t think about Scott. He was shy and just not the performer type. I was puzzled. “What’s he gonna do?”

Joey smirked, rubbed his nose and said, “I saw a poster his mom made. It said:

“He can’t eat fire! No one can do that!” Red was incredulous, shaking his head, “He’ll burn the crap out of his tongue!”

We all shook our heads as the story on TV resumed. We watched in wonder as the episode laid out in amazing filmic sequences, the things we already knew about Superman:

He came to Earth after his planet blew up. His rocket landed on a farm; The "Kent Farm", somewhere in the Midwest. His original name was Kal-El. He loved his mom and dad. He grew up to be the crime-fighting savior of the modern world………..

I thought, in a way, he was a real Magician……He floated over cities and plains, with people on the ground who pointed up at him in wonder. He could see through stuff (not lead). He could catch bullets with his hands. With his super hearing and super everything else, I bet he could catch bullets blindfolded...........Now that was MAGIC as I saw it…….

When the episode was over and the commercials came back on, Red leaned towards me.

“Hey Justis, what’re you gonna do for the performance?”

"Gary's gonna blow fire out his ass!" My brother hollered from his room.

"Very funny!" I felt a blush coming on.......

The guys were laughing a little but they caught themselves. We all knew the tragedy of big brother torment.

My frown quickly changed to a smile. I was happy Red asked what I planned to do, because I needed his and Joey’s help in performing the trick.

“Can you guys assist me?”

They looked puzzled and glanced at each other…… “Sure!” they were both instantly excited. “Tell us what you’re gonna do!”

“I can’t tell you yet……not until just before the show. I have to keep it secret.”

“You can’t tell us? .....What the crap?!......We’re your best friends!”

Joey was forming one of his dark frowns across his otherwise cool poker face. I knew they were offended slightly, so I explained the importance of absolute secrecy, and I told them how real magicians sometimes don’t tell their assistants everything.

“We have to get to the school gym early, then I can tell you what to do.”

I was a little nervous they would not want to help……then I added,

“If you are going to help me I need your promise…..Scout’s Honor?” I did the two fingered Cub Salute.

There is no way a boy that age, in the Cub Scouts cannot project his honor. Reflex takes over, and the hand goes up as he straightens his spine……..although it is usually picturesque, it is not a rational thing….and I was aware of this...................We all saluted and said in unison: “SCOUT’S HONOR.”

_{Honor and cooperation held us together}

_{We were united in the promise of many adventures and noble deeds}

In the time that remained before the performance, I needed to collect some props over the next few days. Mom, who was a great Den Mother in the program, helped me gather things, even though I didn’t tell her my plans. We put everything in the trunk of the car.

On the night of the performance, Mom drove me to the school, helped me unload, then drove away so she would not be seen. She would attend the performance at the scheduled time.

Joey was waiting at the door to the school………………..no Red.

“Where the hell is Red?”

Joey looked around the corner of the school at the swings, at the courts…….........no one.

“I dunno……..Wait. Look! Here he comes!”

Red was running towards us as he tied his neckerchief around his neck.

“Sorry. I had to fed the cows.”

In those days, public schools in small towns were usually left open. The gymnasium was accessible; also the hallways, and the bathrooms, but never the classrooms.

We entered the gym, and looking around, we didn't realize at first how lucky we were. The moon was shining brightly into the many windows that pierced the walls behind the upper balcony of the large space. It gave us light to see by with a quality that was oddly soothing. We were momentarily stunned by the beauty of the silvery light casting long violet shadows across the huge, white muslin workout mats that lay at the back of the gym.

The shadows stretched and lay along the textured lengths of fabric, taking abrupt turns where the wall was met, sending the shadow forms up the grainy, white plastered walls. These wall shadows made us think of dark night creatures; not scary ones, but more like compassionate sentinels waiting for the fully realized thrust of our plans. The large forms were sometimes laced with other shadows and silver blades of light from the pitching of tall trees outside the windows. One could almost be hypnotized by this fanciful Moondance. We chuckled about it, then we watched as the friendly, shadow creatures stretched upwards slightly, stretching their temporal stature with every second the full moon descended.

Red walked to an adjacent wall and moved his had into the silver light.

“This is like a dream.........” His white, freckled skin almost glowed beneath his dark red hair.

Our eyes adjusted to the light on the surfaces and spaces……..I was concerned about time. The clock said 7:15 and the program started at 7:30. We didn’t know it at the moment, but we were very lucky the building manager never showed up until five minutes before any program.

“Now, Red, I want you on the balcony………um…..over there to the right, where you can see my signal. Here, take this.” I handed Red a cardboard box, about one foot square.

“What’s this for?” He tossed it in the air slightly.

“Put it over your head and make it look like it’s just some ol’ box sitting up on the ledge of the balcony. You need to sit on the floor up there so the people can’t see your body…….then you wait for my signal.”

“I still don’t’ get it………wha?......”

I was unfolding two chairs and I placed them side-by-side, with the backs facing away from where the audience would be sitting. They were placed at a pre-determined distance from one another, so I could lay across them. I turned around and pointed up at the balcony.

“When you’re up there, I want you to make a sound, but I’ll explain it when I tell the audience what I’m going to perform. You just need to listen.”

There was a small knot of panic building inside me at this point and I began to mentally kick myself for not having rehearsed with these guys. Joey moved the chairs a little closer together, wiping the dust off the cushions.

“Are you gonna do something like gymnastics or something?............OK…….what the hell do you want me to do?”

“You are the guy I choose from the audience to help. No one will know you are part of this. I want you to listen………….Red makes sound,…… and you listen, then tell the audience what you hear.”

“Well……………..OK…..you’ll explain my part too I suppose?”

“Yes!” ............Now I was really nervous……


I had forgot to tell Red to tear a slit in the box so he could see my signal. He was already on the balcony, just above the middle of the audience seats, hidden from sight. I did not see the box on the ledge as we had discussed. Panic started to take hold, just as the building manager arrived, along with many Cub Scouts, Den Mothers and other parents. Joey slipped into an adjacent bathroom. I set up a small table near the chairs and placed a small pitcher on the flat surface. I sat two rows back. The seats were filling, and when Joey came back into the gym, he tried not to make eye contact with me. He sat in front.

After some announcements and several items of Scout business, Our Pack Leader announced the first act:

“And now our own Scott Hurly will perform an amazing feat!............ He will EAT FIRE!”

The hall erupted in applause and a number of whistles. Scott walked to the front with a handled paper bag, and a small card table. He unfolded the table and took four candles from the bag, placing them in a loose circle around the table. He lit each one. As the candles burned, the room got very still………I could hear my heart pounding, and when I looked several seats over at Mom, I could tell she could hear it too.

Scott stood perfectly still….almost as if he were saying a prayer, but all the guys knew better. There was some muffled snickering.

He leaned over and blew out the candle nearest to him, licked his finger, and quenched the wick. He picked up the candle and started eating it………..
I heard a “gasp” just behind me……..

I looked back to the front......There was Scott, chewing, chomping away, swallowing the candle, and being very pleased with himself. I could hear the chomping. It sounded like someone eating carrots.

One of the older scouts shouted, “He ain't eatin’ no fire. He’s just eatin’ the candle!”

“Boos” and shouts were starting to build to point where I could no longer hear Scott’s crunching sounds. He was so satisfied looking, standing there smiling like a damn cow, chewing his way out of the promise of his MAGIC.

Suddenly we heard a small “click” and his face dropped. He put his hand up to his mouth and spit out some stuff. “OOooww!” He searched the audience for someone. His mom rushed up to the table and opened his mouth.

“Oh honey! You just broke a tooth………..anyone have some towels?!!”

By now there was blood running down Scott’s bottom lip…….One of the other Den Mothers ran forward with a wad of paper towels, then they all walked swiftly to the gym door, up the stairs and out the front. It was so quiet, you could hear the school doors creak shut. After a few seconds, the place burst into applause and laughter. I felt better instantly, seeing the mood and realizing that tonight these people were a fun, generous group.

I caught a glance of the balcony and I could see the top of Red’s head pop back down. I supposed he wanted to see the action. I chuckled to myself. When I stole another look, I saw a crappy cardboard box, with two ragged eye holes punched out of the side facing the front of the gym. “Jeeeeze” I thought,…….. “Oh well.”

After about five minutes of loud crowd conversation, enough time for the shock and of Scott’s performance to wear off, I was introduced and I walked to the front. There were several spots of scott's blood on the floor. I was happy some of the older scouts had removed the remaining candles.

I cleared my throat.

“I will perform a feat that will never be forgotten……Something never before seen in this gym…..or…other places. First of all, I must choose a member of the audience to help me. You look like you could do this!”

I pointed to Joey and he jumped up in obvious anticipation. I could hear some of the other big guys whispering in the crowd as Joey came and stood beside me.

“Ladies and Gentlemen……..I will attempt to throw my voice to another part of the gymnasium………..after I have filled my mouth with koolaid, while LAYING DOWN!”

The audience rustled, with whispers getting louder and more intense……I heard moaning coming from some of the teenagers in the crowd……There were "shushing" sounds all around from the mothers and dads.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my lips will not move……My voice box will not vibrate, and the thing you hear will be this.” .....I sucked in my breath and in my best baritone voice I sang:

“WHEYYYYYYYYYYYYO..........WHEYYYYYYYYYO!”

Sound reverberated nicely in the space. “Not bad!” I thought to myself, reveling in the illusion of having an older, teenage voice.

“This guy I chose from the audience will listen closely to prove I am not opening my mouth because it is full of koolaid!”

I whispered to Joey that we would start. I picked up the pitcher and looked around for the glass that I had forgotten. I lifted the pitcher and drank from the spout…….Streams poured out on both sides of my mouth, making splat sounds as it hit the floor on either side of my shoes.

The audience rustled again, laughter was building in a friendly crescendo.

I pointed at my swollen cheeks, then I thought,

“Shit! I can’t breathe…I have to do this quick!”

I laid down across the chairs, and held up my hand, extending one finger. Then I raised my hand like a bandleader and brought it down, marking the moment for the remote sound to magically occur…………..........nothing.

It seemed like a million years had gone by……Joey was leaning down with his ear close to my mouth……I was needing air…….then Joey whispered,

“Give stupid-shit the signal again.”

Before I could raise my hand, a high-pitched screech pierced the air:

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoo…….Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoo!

The combination of the hilarity of the sound and my need to breathe caused me to blast the koolaid out of my mouth and into Joey’s ear. He lurched, yelped, straightened up, then turned around and faced the audience.

“His mouth is closed alright...... He’s not makin’ the noise from his mouth!........No, he's not makin' it!”

As the liquid dripped from Joey’s ear, he pulled his shirtail up to wipe the side of his face. The whole house erupted into cheers, applause and hysterical laughter…….I sat up and gasped for air, wiping the koolaid from my face, and in the side of my vision I saw a box floating down from the balcony…..It struck one of the big guys on the head..............."THUNK!......Ooww.....dang it!!"

Now the place was on fire with laughter and applause. I saw the top of a head just above the railing……..people were turning in their seat to see Red, who was standing up, waving…….The loudest volley of cheering started and kept coming.

Joey and I stood and bowed together, like we had seen the big kids bow during the curtain calls at high school plays. We ruled the show……. We ruled the night!!................Comedy with all its incarnations.....saved us.

Several people called my house the next day and talked to my mom about how great the act was. None of them wanted to speak to me. I can only imagine they wanted the magic of the evening, with the good cheer, extreme humor and all, to stay the same in their memories. They knew I could wipe all that away if they talked to me; I would surely be shy and somewhat mute. I didn’t mind not being asked to come to the phone. It was enough to feel good about an unexpected success……..Besides, I was feeling so bad for Scott....if he had not broke a tooth, comedy could have saved him too.......Well,.......maybe it did save him anyway......

Thoughts of those long, viloet shadows we had witnessed in the moonlit gym the night of the performance haunted me for several weeks afterwords. The forms were beautiful, and their munificence made a benevolent haunting. I thought about the goodness and beauty such a vision could portend, and I understood how honest mistakes, placing us at the edge of chaos and tragedy, could be saved by humor, by the jokes that leap out of necessity, by the magic created out of those human foibles, and by sources from a sleepy, dream shrouded land.