The last few shows I’ve done have been the best I’ve ever done. I’ve heard more laughs than ever the last few weeks, but not laughing for my jokes. They all roar after Zeppo finishes talking. The only thing is, I never remember saying anything when Zeppo talks. I don’t remember speaking a word. I don’t even think I triggered my vocal chords. Not only that, but he spouts jokes I’ve never even heard before. I thought I developed dual personality syndrome, but there’s no way. Ventriloquists with the disorder treat their dummies as if they were people. I still see Zeppo as a chunk of plastic.
It was after my act on this Friday night that I started to question the very fabric of reality. I walked off stage and to my dressing room to the sound of applause, when I thought I heard someone whisper my name. Uneasy, I looked around and realized there was no one nearby to say my name. I continued to my room and placed Zeppo on my couch lying down. I went over to the big mirror in my dressing room to take off my tie. I was so focused on taking it off that I wasn’t aware of my surroundings. In the corner of my eye I thought I saw something move on the couch.
Startled, I quickly turned around to see that nothing had been moved. Everything exactly where I left it. I could have sworn something on the couch moved, but all that was there was Zeppo. I walked over to Zeppo and picked him up.
“Hey Zeppo, you know how to untie a tie?” I asked jokingly.
“No, but I’ll tighten the one around yours,” I made him say.
I put him back on the couch sitting straight up, with his head turned to the side. I went back to the mirror and furiously continued to untie my tie. I eventually got it undone, then the owner of Barbary Coast entered the room. He congratulated me on a spectacular show and said he could hook me up with some connections if I was interested. He wrote down several numbers and gave them to me. There were about five different numbers on the slip of paper he gave me. So many places, so many opportunities, so many chances to make my big break. I was so enthralled in the little slip of paper that I didn’t notice the owner leave. I picked my head up looked at Zeppo. I stared at Zeppo intensely.
Something didn’t look right.
Something about his posture looked off. Not only that, but he’s head positioning didn’t look familiar to me. I could have sworn I turned his head to the left, but it’s facing the right. I remember turning it to the side, but I can’t remember which. Did I turn it that way? Did I forget that’s the way I turned it? Are my nerves getting to me? Is there something else going on that I’m not aware of? Did it move on it’s own? That last question plagued my mind for the rest of the night. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. It was impossible, but something I didn’t rule out. I never thought the idea of Zeppo being alive as impossible.
After work, I walked homelike usual. I kept Zeppo in a case so that no one would stare at me as I walked down the street. People would just think I’m a businessman, not a ventriloquist. I also fear the idea of some kids coming up to me and trying to damage Zeppo. Actually, I realize that’s the real reason I keep him in there.
There was an incident about a month ago where I was walking home with Zeppo in plain sight (I had forgot the case at home). I was about halfway home when I noticed my shoe was untied. I put Zeppo down as I bent over to tie it. In a matter of seconds, some kids ran up behind me, pushed me over, grabbed Zeppo and ran as fast as they could away from me. Naturally, I ran after them. They were probably middle schoolers or something, it didn’t matter to me, I wanted Zeppo back. They were obviously athletes, because they out ran me easily (I was never the best athlete, so anyone could out run me). They kept saying things like: “Let’s smash his face in,” and “rip his arm off,”. I lost sight of them after a little while.
Zeppo was gone.