© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“No, you fools!” Dorian Darkstone cries. “The gold isn’t cursed. The gold is the curse!”
“Dad,” Kat groans. “Sit down.”
The actors on stage, as well as most of the patrons at the theatre, are staring in slack-jawed horror at Dorian.
Kat feels her whole body blushing. She reaches for her father with one hand, while using the other to hide her face.
She shrinks into her seat and tries to turn invisible. Although she doesn’t hate theatre as much as she hates Opera, Kat still doesn’t really want to be here. She wanted to spend some time with her father, ideally time where neither of them had to say or do anything or interact with each other in any meaningful way.
Well, she supposes, this is what she gets for wanting to spend time with Dorian Darkstone…
Meanwhile, backstage, famous playwright Sandford Whitehead feels the colour draining from his face. The gold itself being the metaphorical curse is supposed to his play’s big twist!
But someone has figured it out already!
Horror of horrors!
Sandford turns to his assistant. “I do believe I’ll need to have the fainting couch prepared,” he says hoarsely. “Be a dear, fluff up the pillows and get my blanket with the unicorns on it.”
“Dad,” Kat repeats. “Sit down. Everyone is still staring.”
“It’s not my fault it’s so obvious,” he says. “Besides, I know a thing or two about cursed gold, how much gold to you think I—”
Kat grabs his sleeve and tries to tug him back down.
“Fine,” he says sullenly.
The actors recover from the distraction caused by Dorian’s suddenly interjection, though many of them end their lines by giving me angry sideways looks.
Kat hasn’t really been paying attention to the play. Something about a big haul of gold that’s been cursed by a bunch of weird river-ladies and everyone’s trying to dig up the gold and fighting about it and everyone is killing everyone.
And the bootblack was actually the vicar in disguise, and the vicar was actually the fishwife. And there was a bear, for some reason.
Or something.
By the end of the play, the final two characters are preparing to duel each other for ownership of the gold. And the bear is back, for some reason.
Kat watches as an actress playing the goddess Pherais is lowered onto the stage by a crane. The young goddess delivers an eloquent speech serving as the summation of the play and the recapitulation of its major themes.
Of course, Kat only knows that because she was once called upon to be lowered by crane to deliver the final speech in another one of Sandford Whitehead’s plays.
In the end, Pherais explains how, in fact, the supposed cursed gold isn’t cursed, but is itself the curse.
Kat yawns.
It has something to do with how greed brings out the worst in human nature and the real curse is how the gold compels the characters to all fight among themselves.
“Called it,” Dorian says smugly to himself.
“Dad,” Kat groans again. “Sit. Down.”
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