| "You talk too much," the ventriloquist said."Shut me up and you're on the dole!" The dummy on his knee yuk-yukked in convulsive fits, mouth wide like a dentist's patient, flaps on its deerstalker cap jiggling, billiard-ball eyes ogling the audience. The audience roared.He's good, Marge Kimberly thought. Very good. From her seat in the loge she could concentrate on the lips of the immaculately tuxedoed ventriloquist. She could discern only their slightest movement. He's more handsome, she thought, than the eight-by-six glossy he had sent her in response to her fan letter."I'm the brains of this act," the ventriloquist went on.The dummy's head jerked up, eyelids blinking rapidly at the audience. "Yeah, and if his body matched his brains he'd be the invisible man!"Howls from the audience drowned out the yukking of the dummy. Marge laughed, but her humor was tempered by the knowledge that the antics of the dummy required skilled manipulation of finger loops in concealed wires.The spotlight on the ventriloquist highlighted handsome cleft-chin features, tanned skin clean-shaven except for a Clark Gable mustache, and dark eyes that sparkled in the glare. Even though he was seated, Marge could see that he was tall, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. She could even make out the half-moons of his manicured nails, and when he turned his head to look at the dummy, she could see that his black hair, combed straight back, curled attractively on his neck."You were an arbitrator?" he asked the dummy, his lips slightly open to let perfectly arrayed teeth flash in the spotlight.The dummy studied its stumpy legs in the checkered trousers and wiggled its outsize brown boots. "Yup, I quit Arbie's last week and went to work for Wendy's," it said.Marge, oblivious to the laughter that filled the theater, marveled again at the mastery of the ventriloquist."Our 10-second countdown just started. Say goodnight to these nice people." The ventriloquist's smile never wavered, his lips moving only the slightest millimeter.The dummy leaned forward and stage whispered: "He thinks a countdown is an auditor in a duck factory. Goodnight to these nice people!" It yuk-yukked for the last time and waved a stubby arm. The orchestra blared, the curtains closed, and the house lights came on to signal the interval.I must meet him, Marge told herself, rising to make her way to a neon-lit exit sign on the left of the stage. Beyond the door, the backstage manager sat behind a long counter."Would Mister Canelli take a moment to speak to an admirer?" she asked him, backing up her sweetest tones with a soft smile."Canelli sees no one unless they are close personal friends or relatives," the manager snapped out the words. "And please leave. Members of the audience shouldn't be back here.""I'm sure he'd see me," Marge persisted, keeping the smile lit. "You see, I'm probably his biggest fan. I listen to all his radio shows. I've written to him many times, but this is the first time I've ever seen him in person. Surely he wouldn't begrudge a little advice to one of his devotees?""Canelli leaves explicit instructions. No Fans. Close friends only," the manager said, more interested in a hurrying group of long-legged chorus girls. His ogling was interrupted by a uniformed youth bearing a huge bouquet of red and white roses."Flowers for Miss Landers, the dancer. Which dressing room?""Down the corridor," the manager said, pointing. "Left, then right, third door."The florist hesitated.The manager sighed and rose. "Follow me," he said.They both moved down the corridor. After a moment's indecision, Marge followed at a distance. Turning a corner, she felt a rush of excitement. The first door bore the sign 'Canelli & O'Brien.'She paused only for a second before knocking and waited. From within she heard the rush of tap water. She knocked again, louder. Gently she tried the door handle. The door gave.Canelli sat before a bright dressing mirror, his reflection smiling at her, the same friendly smile he wore on stage."Sorry to burst in," Marge stammered, reddening. "I'm a big fan of yours. I'm a ventriloquist too. Oh, not a professional like you, of course. I'm an amateur," she hesitated, embarrassed, as the smiling Canelli stared back at her. "I just wondered if you would know my father. He was a ventriloquist. Before your time, though, but I wondered... ."The sound of rushing tap water ceased. The door at the side of the mirror opened. The dummy, free of greasepaint, tweeds and deerstalker cap, stood in the doorway, a towel around his stumpy waist, his eyes wide in shocked surprise.Marge's hand flew to her mouth. As she backed out of the room her eyes caught the fist-sized hole in Canelli's back, and just within, the finger loops in the wires that hung down inside the light plastic body. |
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Frank Reynolds won First Place in Writers' Intl. Forum's 1998 Summer competition with this fine story. He writes, "A Scotsman, I taught college in Europe and the USA. I ran a college newspaper, and I write a bi-monthly column for a Scottish history magazine. I moved from the Bay area and settled here in foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains."These last two years my writing has been successful with small press magazines. One of my short stories has been selected for consideration in this year's Pushcart prize. I have a collection of short stories (two book-lengths) I am on the point of sending out in search of a publisher." |
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Highlights: This First Place winning story from our latest competition is a finely honed bit of fun and surprise in a short story. Its appeal comes from carefully chosen descriptions, a cleanly executed structure, and a fine flow to the storyline. StructureThe first three paragraphs effectively introduce and describe the three main characters in this story.The seven words in the first paragraph develop the setting, allowing the reader to assume a stage performance.The next paragraph delivers the comedic tone and carefully describes the dummy. The description brings this story to life with its careful, distinct details. The author uses both a metaphor (mouth wide like a dentist's patient) and a simile (billiard-ball eyes). Additionally, the author appeals to the reader's physical senses from the yuk-yukking sound of the dummy and roar of the crowd to the visual jiggle of the flaps on the dummy's deerstalker cap.The third paragraph then brings us to the main character. We are immediately cognizant that this is, most likely, the protagonist, because we enter her thought process, a technique usually reserved for the main character. Through her eyes we view the ventriloquist, begin to see her fascination with this man, and understand their relationship--performer and long-time admirer. In only three brief paragraphs, the author has developed setting, tone, described three characters, and their relationship. Nice job!Flow = Variety and SpacingA common problem for writers is to find a technique and stick with it. This has some advantages, but often leads to redundancy.In this story, the author had effectively used introspection (showing the thoughts of a character in the third paragraph). He uses this technique again (I must meet him, Marge told herself...) nearly half- way through the story. In between he has allowed us to glimpse her knowledge and feelings through well-spaced narrative lines (...her humor was tempered by the knowledge... and marveled again at the mastery...). The author also spaced out the comedy act's punch lines as well as building on the descriptions of the ventriloquist through several passages.This well-spaced use of techniques creates a comfortable flow to the story. In a longer story the author might dwell longer on each passage, yet the interweaving of techniques will still be important to a story's successful flow.Dialogue That Says MoreWhen Marge speaks to the stage manager, we can sense her smile and attempts at persuasiveness in her dialogue. When she talks to Canelli, we can hear the embarrassment in her words ("Oh, not a professional like you, of course. I'm an amateur." ) without any need for the author to tell us that she is embarrassed. The stage manager's words to Marge are equally telling--terse, short, to-the-point sentences. Readers can picture this person from just the way he forms his sentences.A story like this with strong structure, careful wording and a storyline that flows comfortably is truly a winner! |
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"I loved the story because I never saw the surprise coming and I can usually spot it a mile away. Great story. Short but simple and easy to read - characteristics I have yet to master in my stories." --Vivian Ray
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