Post by barbt on Jul 15, 2015 22:12:28 GMT -5
This is my first one-shot. Let me know what you think.
Carl, the man in charge of the local crew for the arena, was waiting for the Celtic Thunder trucks and buses to arrive. They were due an hour ago, but there had been heavy rain all night, which was continuing, and the group was running late.
Ian, his head rigger, approached him. “So, boss,” he said, “what are these guys like to work with? They going to be a pain because they’re late?” Ian had not been working with him the previous times that Celtic Thunder had come through.
Carl laughed. “No“, he said. “These guys are the best to work with I’ve ever seen. They’ll work like demons and never complain. The performers will stay out of our way, too.”
“Really?” Ian was skeptical. In his time as a rigger, he’d seen a lot of acts that thought they were hot stuff and could do anything they wanted, and would then get mad at the local crew for “not being good enough” when things got delayed.
“Yep,” Carl said. “Ah, here they come now!” Three buses, one pulling a trailer, and two trucks were pulling into the arena lot. The big rig drivers wasted no time getting the rigs positioned to unload. One bus disgorged a gang of crew members who came running through the rain for the doors to the loading dock, a few breaking off and heading in the stage door to begin setting up the production end of things. The doors on the other two buses opened, and more people spilled out, opening the bins under the buses and pulling out instrument cases and suitcases, passing them to each other and heading for the stage doors. They worked as a team and within minutes the bus luggage compartments were empty and everyone was in out of the wet.
Ian looked confused. “Where are the performers?” he asked. “They still asleep on the bus, or what?”
Carl looked at him. “You just saw them,” he said quietly. “The people unloading the buses and going in the stage door were the band and singers.” Then he turned to a small dark-haired man approaching him. Ian muttered behind him, “Performers getting their own cases in the rain???” and shook his head.
“Ah, Andreas!” he called out. “Good to see you again. This is my head rigger, Ian Stewart. Ian, this is Andreas, CT’s stage manager and front of house sound man.”
Ian was startled as Andres began to speak in a precise, German-accented voice. Ian’s brain had already begun adjusting to the Scottish and Irish accents he was surrounded with as the CT crew began opening and unloading the trucks.
“Hello, Carl,” Andreas said. “And it is good to meet you, Ian. You should be with us rather than I, I think!” Ian laughed, nodding his head.
“So,” Carl said. “Any changes in staff I need to know about?”
“Not in the main crew,” Andreas replied. “But we have had a change of performers since last year.”
“I saw on the billboards “, Carl said. “What happened to Paul and Damian?”
“Ah, well, Paul has left us to pursue a solo career,” said Andreas. “We have replaced him with a young tenor named Emmet Cahill, who is really quite amazing. And young Damian got a part on The Glee Project, so he had to leave us as well.”
“The Glee Project?” Carl said, surprised. “Really?”
“Yes,” Andreas said. “He has always loved the show and auditioned, and got in, so… We have a new young fellow with us, named Daniel. He is even younger than Damian was on his first tour, only 13. And Neil is now a principal singer rather than a member of the band.”
“That’s a lot of changes,” Carl said. “How’s everyone handling it?”
“You know us,” Andreas laughed. “It all works out. We miss Paul and Damian but all is going smoothly. And I think we need to get to work.”
Ian and Carl agreed, and scattered to their tasks. Looking around, Carl recognized the vast majority of the people wearing the CT crew shirts. He did notice one unfamiliar person that he had not seen come running in from the crew bus, a tall thin man with a scruff of brown beard, wearing a knitted cap that completely covered his hair. He was working as fast as all the others, going back and forth from the trucks with rolling cases, guiding them carefully down the ramps and jumping into help others when needed to control the heavy cases. As Andreas passed him again, Carl said, “Who’s that new guy?” indicating the man in question.
“He is not new”, Andreas laughed. “He has been with us since the beginning, but he is not always able to get out here to work with us. He often has tasks he must perform backstage, you see. When the cases are in, he will help with the lighting rigs until I am ready to begin setting up my decks, and then he will help me. One thing, though, he is not allowed to go up on the rigs. Please let Ian know this.”
“Oh?” Carl replied. “Why not?”
“He wants to,” Andreas laughed, “but he has not had time to learn how to move on them safely. He has the balance of a cat, and I think he would be fine, but Sharon has said that he may not go up on the rigs and her word is final, as you know.”
“Yes, it is!” Carl agreed, well aware of the tight ship that Sharon Browne ran. He detoured to meet Ian and pointed out the man to him. “Andreas says that that crew man will help with the lights until Andreas’ sound decks come in, but he’s not allowed to go up on the rigs. Producer’s orders.” Ian raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ask me” Carl said. “Andreas only said that he hasn’t had time to learn to move on the rigs, and he doesn’t often get out here to help because he usually has things to do backstage.”
“OK, boss,” Ian agreed. He kept a close eye on the man as, all cases now in, the crews began working on laying out the lighting rigs and attaching them together. He had to agree that Carl was right about the travelling crew being a good one; they were moving at top speed, but there were no arguments or problems, and laughter and jokes were flying across the room. The man in question was nimbly working with the rigs, occasionally checking with another CT crew member, and usually getting a big grin and a hearty slap on the back. Satisfied that the man knew what he was doing, Ian continued with his work. A little later, as the rigs began to rise up to the ceiling, he checked and noted that the man in question was safely on the floor, assisting with laying out the flooring for the stage. At one point he heard the set carpenter call, “Watch your fingers, lad, Sharon will have my head if you get hurt!” and turned to see the man assisting with banging together a recalcitrant piece of frame. The man just laughed and waved the carpenter off.
A hasty lunch was eaten and the crew went back to work again, the bearded man now working side by side with Andreas. Then a tall bald man came over to speak to Carl.
“D’ya mind if we have a wee game of football in that back section, there?” he asked in a broad Scottish accent. “We’ve been in the buses too long, and the lads need a bit of exercise, and we canna go out with the weather like this.” He pointed to a back area of the arena floor, where the chairs hadn’t been set up yet as it had been used for storing the empty traveling cases until they could be moved out of the way.
Carl laughed. “Of course not, George,” he said. “I know you’ll stay out of our way. Ian!” he called.
“What’s up, Carl?” Ian said, coming over.
“This is George, one of the singers,” Carl said. “The performers are going to play some soccer in the back section to get the kinks out from being in the bus. Let him know if they’re in the way, all right, and when we’re ready to set the chairs up back there, OK? There’s not enough room backstage here and they can’t go out.”
Ian nodded, but after George had walked away, he looked at Carl. “I thought you said they wouldn’t get in the way,” he said accusingly.
“They won’t,” Carl said. “They’ll stay back there, and when you need them to move, they will. This bunch is different, Ian, they know it takes all of us to make a show work. George came and ASKED me if it was all right for them to play back there.”
“All right,” Ian said dubiously. He watched as George, 5 other men and a young boy came out with a soccer ball, formed a circle, and began passing the ball back and forth. They were good, he had to admit that, and they kept their circle well out of the way of the crew. He went back to work, only to be interrupted a short time later by a loud crash as the soccer ball came sailing into the last section of chairs and took out quite a few of them. Groaning, he muttered, “I knew it…” and started in that direction to clean up the mess and tell George they’d have to leave. A hand grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Don’t go off on your high horse,” Carl said. “Just watch.”
The young boy came running over to retrieve the ball and started to head back to the others. George put up a hand and said, “No, lad, you’ve to clean up your mess first. The crew hasn’t time to redo that lot when you’ve messed it up.” Daniel tossed the ball back and began setting up the chairs again, doing his best to get them lined up properly. The other men were playing again, but Ian and Carl could see that they were watching Daniel as well. Carl was looking at the players oddly. “There’s one missing,” he said.
“What?” Ian asked, confused.
“There are only 5 singers there,” Carl said. “George, Ryan, Neil, Daniel and that must be Emmet,” as he pointed out the tall bald man, a black-haired man, a slightly built man with brown hair, the boy, and a sturdier young man with reddish brown hair. “The other two are band members, the drummer, Declan, and Barry, who plays pretty much any instrument known to man, I think. Keith’s missing. Even if he wasn’t playing soccer with them, he’d probably be out here racing around on his skateboard.”
Ian raised an eyebrow again. “Skateboard?” he said. “Really?”
Carl laughed. “Yes,” he said. “Keith’s a bit different. Likes to do his own thing. Bit of a wild man, really. But just as much of a good guy as all the others.” He was interrupted by a young woman coming out to the stage and calling “Daniel! Your break is over, you need to get back to lessons!”
“But, Aisling!” Daniel yelled, indicating the chairs he was still fixing. Ryan and Emmet came over. “Go on, Daniel”, Ryan said, giving him a swat on the seat of his pants. “We’ll finish this. Better to get your lessons done now so you don’t have to finish them between sound check and the show.” Daniel went off, grumbling, as Ryan and Emmet made quick work of replacing the chairs and getting them lined up, Ian noted with surprise, exactly correctly before running back to the game.
“See“, Carl said quietly. “Nothing to worry about. And I see they’re training Daniel right, too. They did the same thing with Damian, he was 15 the first time they came here.”
“So Daniel has school as well?” Ian said.
“Yes, that’s the same tutor Damian had. Three hours of classes a day, as well as all the rehearsals and everything else the rest of them do.”
“That’s a big load for a kid,” Ian said.
“But required,” Carl said. “Damian did just fine with it, he was a natural with performing and touring. I’ll be surprised if Daniel’s doing as well, honestly. Damian was always older than his years, and I think Daniel isn’t.”
They got back to work, and it wasn’t long before Ian had to go over to the performers and tell them they needed to move so the crew could finish setting up the seats. He only half-expected an argument now, and didn’t get one; they all thanked him for letting them play and went off laughing and rough-housing with each other.
On his way back to work again, Carl noticed the bearded man working alone at Andreas’ sound boards, which surprised him as Andreas was very picky about how things were set up and rarely allowed anyone to work on his equipment without his direct supervision. He met Andreas coming back from backstage and said, “You really trust that guy, I’ve never seen you leave anyone to work on those alone!”
“He knows them nearly as well as I do,” Andreas shrugged. “If he is not sure what to do, he will wait and ask me.” With that he went back to the sound boards and began working alongside the other man.
An hour or so later, Ian and Carl were comparing notes on progress. With the rapid work, they gotten caught up and were now on schedule, much to Ian’s surprise. As they talked, Ryan came out on to the stage and called out, “Andreas, we need your helper! He’s wanted for warm-ups!”
“Go on, young man,” Andreas said. “You have saved us a lot of time today and I thank you for it. Now go off and do your real job.” The young man clapped him on the back and jumped up on to the stage, pulling off his hat as he left with Ryan and letting loose a shaggy mass of bright blond hair down to his shoulders.
“Well, I’ll be, “Carl said quietly.
“What?” Ian asked.
“That crew member that’s been working out here all day, the one who wasn’t allowed to go up on the rigs? That was Keith, the missing singer! No wonder he wasn’t allowed on the rigs, and the set carpenter was worried about him hurting his fingers – he’s also a very good guitarist!”
“Oh, come on,” Ian said. “That’s ridiculous. Why would a singer be out here working his tail off?”
“Why would a crew man be needed for warm-ups?” Carl asked in return.
“Well, yeah, but still…”
Andreas joined them. “I see you have found out who our extra crew member was,” he said, smiling.
“I don’t get it,” Ian said. “Why was he out here? And doesn’t your crew mind him doing their work?”
“No, they do not mind,” Andreas said. “He does not get paid any more when he helps us out here, and on days like this when we are late, his help is greatly appreciated. Often he cannot get out here because he has rehearsals or interviews or similar things to do.”
“But why would he come out and work all day like that?” Ian persisted.
Andreas smiled. “Keith has a nimble mind as well as his nimble fingers, and is easily bored. When he is bored, he gets into trouble. He is a prankster, you see, and when he is bored he dreams up pranks to pull on everyone. He enjoys working with his hands and having him work out here keeps him out of trouble and keeps the mischief down to a manageable level. We are all pranksters, but Keith is by far the worst, and if he starts pulling more pranks, then others do as well and it turns into chaos. One of these days he will manage to get up on the riggings and then we will have to deal with Sharon, and she may forbid him to come out here, but I doubt it. He has a way of charming her out of being angry. It is better for all of us to let him work if he wishes to.”
Ian still didn’t quite believe that the “crew man” was a singer, and wondered if perhaps this was one of the pranks Andreas had talked about – until sound check came around and Keith, still scruffy but looking very different without his hat, opened his mouth and let out a clear, ringing tenor to start off the first group song. The guitar part turned out to be true, too as he found out when the now clean-shaven Keith hit the stage during the performance for several songs with guitar in hand. Tear-down went just as smoothly as set-up had, although without Keith’s help, and when the trucks and buses pulled out, Ian looked at Carl and said whole-heartedly, “I wish all the acts that come here were like them. That’s the most fun I’ve ever had working that hard!”