A Fool's Tale

Chapter 18 - First Performance

When I returned, Alan groused about my lateness, but it wasn't long before he moved on to other targets for his negativity. I tuned him out, focusing on grooming the horses, while worrying about the upcoming show. When the sun dipped low, I told Alan I needed to leave. He grumbled about spoiled entertainer brats, but didn't try to stop me. Gilles would likely have hard words for him if he caused me to be late for the feast.

I sprinted to the entertainer's hall and was greeted by a flurry of activity. Troupe leaders were shouting at performers, and half costumed actors rushed about in a disorganized frenzy. The change room door was wide open and packed with entertainers preparing for the dinner. Phoebe was there as well. Her arms were folded, as she stood guarding a vacant stool and mirror.

"Hurry up, Gael," She called after noticing my arrival.

I scurried over.

"Get changed into your costume, then I'll do your makeup."

I turned to leave.

"...oh, and Gael...wash your face."

Blushing, I went outside to a nearby water pump and scrubbed my face and hands, leaving behind a brown pool of water. It was embarrassing. I wasn't in the forest anymore, and I didn't want to be looked upon as the dirty stable boy.

I returned to the change room and found my costume and comb were where I'd left them. Taking the wooden comb, I attempted to pull it through my hair, but it was impossible. My hair was a tangled mess, and I didn't have time to straighten the knots I'd accumulated over the years. Fortunately, I'd be wearing a jester's cap for the show, but I vowed to start grooming properly from now on.

Retrieving my costume, I found a vacant dressing screen and got changed, then I placed my possessions on my shelf and returned to Phoebe.

She handed me the white foundation and a brush. "Alright, you need to learn this for yourself, so why don't you start with the base."

I took the brush and began painting my face. Because I was looking in a mirror, my hand kept moving in different directions than my brain thought, and the white make-up would smear across my lips, ears, or eyes, instead of my cheeks. Phoebe spent her time cleaning my clumsy mistakes with a grey cloth.

It would have been embarrassing had I been alone with my struggles, but I was pleased to see others needed assistance with their makeup. Some of the performers had far more elaborate handiwork on their face than mine, and I imagined a helping artist was always required to complete such intricate cosmetics.

Phoebe didn't even let me try any of the designs. She said we didn't have time. I was pleased with the decision. The simple foundation was hard enough. I couldn't imagine completing even simple diamond patterns without a great deal more practice.

The flurry of activity died down as entertainers began hurrying to the main hall. Kyla entered the change room just as Phoebe put the finishing touches on my makeup. Her hair was bright green, and her costume had yellow and black vertical stripes. It was completely different from the first outfit she'd worn and I admit to being envious at her talent for transformation.

"You look good," Kyla complimented, as we strode to the king's hall, the last to leave.

"Thanks Kyla, although I wish I had crazy colored hair like yours."

"Call me Pickles. We need to get in character." She flashed a goofy grin then flicked me on the ear lobe and skipped away.

I gave chase, but she was too quick.

"Oh, poor little Gael, can't catch Pickles," she taunted.

"It's Jangles," I corrected.

"Jangles, are you sure, you run more like a Bumbles or a Stumbles."