Merry Sister Mary: Three Can Keep A Secret

5: Sister Mary Breaks a Leg

Break a leg. Every good performer knows that wishing someone bad luck before a performance removes any superstitious belief of bad things happening. Where did such beliefs come from? One source says the ancient Greeks would stomp their feet in approval during performances and getting them to stomp hard enough to break a leg would be an achievement. Whether or not that is factual remains as much a mystery as most superstitious origins.

Yet, where superstitions are based on irrational fear they often have real life influences such as that elevator button number 13 missing from tall buildings or crying out 'bless you' when someone sneezes. There is no reason for us to do such things, but something compels us to protect ourselves and others against these irrational and often cultural fears. The example tonight existed with the play itself. To say 'Macbeth' within a theater especially among the performers was bad luck. Instead they introduced the play as 'the Scottish play' and Macbeth as 'the Scottish king or lord.' Should you believe in such things or not, tonight proved to be truly unlucky for those present. For me it would be a test from God, a string of twists and turns, and the first time I would be arrested for murder.

The sounds of tuning instruments resonated from the orchestra pit. First I heard a cymbal falling on the floor followed by the squeak of a clarinet. I looked about. The room was beginning to fill up. A woman in a red jeweled gown with black shoulder length hair glided down the center aisle to the front. A sequined handbag bounced on her grand hips. She was guided by a tuxedo-ed gentleman. His blond hair expertly coiffed into a swirl atop his dome. With gloved hands he helped the fine woman into her seat. I turned to Marlene. She appeared to be listening to something far off.

"Excuse me, dear," I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right back. I need to look for my friend."

Those words were partially true. Now that I had established where I was to be seated during the performance I needed to scope out the patrons and the facility. I left the little blind mouse to her own devices while I scooted once more through the row of seats.

I glanced at a distance, Sergeant Leblanc. He appeared to be stopped by a group of men and busy in conversation. Good for me because he was not paying attention while I slipped towards the edge of the stage and up the side stairs with my D. Thomas tucked under my arm.

Behind the red stage curtains a whole other world hustled about in fervent voracity. A crew of men and women shifted about preparing sets, doing last minute touch ups, practicing lines, and delegating tasks. A man with a clipboard observed the set and jotted down notes.

"Act one is with the witches. Do I have my witches ready in ten?"

"Yes," said a trio of women dressed haggard and aged.

"Alright. Let's check the microphones and lighting and we should be ready."

Quiet as a mouse with soft paws I traversed across the main stage and hid behind a set of stage props. Most people never see the secrets of stage production and do not realize the complexity that happens backstage. My years of observing this hidden world proved valuable to me as I observed large metal catwalks hovering above the curtains and many series of rope pulleys with sandbag counterweights, some puddling on the floor in large heaps. These made it possible to move large sets into place quickly and easily. Looking up I saw a woman dressed in overalls with tufts of red hair protruding underneath her flat cap. She was testing and pulling ropes. A man below her pointed at different sections for her to inspect. She quickly finished and retreated across the metal catwalks.

In front of me was a barrel filled with prop swords and knives. Clearly some expert craftsman had been toiling away as some of the smaller knives appeared close to the genuine article; easily fooled by anyone observing from an audience distance. Each prop was labeled for its actor. One for Macbeth, one for Banquo, two knives for the King's guard, etc.