Hypnotist at the Bijou
Part 2
After waking and leaving the antechamber, Cherie continued to explore the secret passage. The passage, it turns out, snaked around behind almost all of the dressing rooms, and someone in the know (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) could sneak back there and have a peek at what was going on without anyone else knowing. That sounded like such wickedly good fun to Cherie, a naughty plot beginning to hatch in her mind.
“BOO!” Angie had sneaked up on Cherie, and startled her.
It was lucky Cherie had visited the toilet before, because that would have been messy.
Angie, a good friend of Connie and Tim’s, was combing the corridors trying to find Cherie, and she had just found her. Cherie really needed a moment to compose herself after such a jolt, and Angie feared a punch might be an imminent arrival. With her heart still thumping Cherie opened her arms to Angie and the pair warmly embraced, as old friends do, although some chastisement was called for. “What are you trying to do, kill me, you nut job?”
“Oh harden up, you wuss. Come here, let me look at you. It’s been ages, what brings you to town?” Angie implored.
Cherie responded, “Dear Angie, it’s so good to see you. I am having a break from work while they rebuild the admin centre, I’ve got three weeks to kill. I rang Connie a month ago and she begged me to come and visit, so here I am.”
Angie was so happy to hear Cherie would be here for some time. “Brilliant. Hey, how about coming to the hypnotism show with Connie and me tonight.”
“Yes… I must come to the hypnotism show tonight… I want to know his secrets!” Cherie’s eyes had glazed over as she said this, and Angie thought it most odd.
“O… kay. Are you alright?” Angie was a little concerned.
“What, erm, never better, that’ll be great, can’t wait.” Angie dismissed her concern, and then told Cherie she had been invited out for dinner, and Connie would be there shortly to pick them up. Tim would make it for dinner, but he still had some preparing to do, so would come along after and meet them at the restaurant. Cherie’s head was starting to spin (wine, theatre, hypnotism, being hypnotised?!!) and when Connie arrived she asked to get straight back to their place so she could shower and change for the evening, and maybe relax for half an hour or so. Angie was fine with that, and said her adieu and left for her own place, which was just ten minutes away.
Connie and Cherie drove back to her place, and they took it in turns to shower (yeah, I know, but maybe later in the story), and Cherie took time to rest on her bed for half an hour before changing to go out. As she lay there she let her mind wander to the strange events at the theatre. Everything seemed to make sense on the surface, but there was a discrepancy in the timing of stuff. She wasn’t looking at her watch, or counting, or measuring, but there seemed to be a lapse between finding that nifty secret passage and meeting Angie, things that she was feeling that she simply couldn’t explain. But as she regained some energy from the lie down, her mood brightened considerably, and she managed to drop the subject and move on.
(Personal indulgence here) Cherie and Connie had always enjoyed a friendly rivalry when it comes to dressing up, and they were at it again this night. Both women wore the most gorgeous outfits to step out on the town in, fully fashioned stockings, Cuban heeled, Cherie’s midnight black, Connie’s taupe with a contrasting black seam and reinforcement. They both chose pumps for footwear, claret coloured for Cherie, to match highlights on her dress, and deep purple for Connie, both with four inch heels. At 5′ 9″ and 5′ 8″ in stockinged feet respectively, these gorgeous amazons (erm, Xenas?) were dressed to thrill, absolutely stunning to behold, lucky Tim and, whoever!
After admiring and complimenting each other, they picked up their bags and coats and made for the car. Connie drove and picked up Angie, and they headed for the best Italian restaurant in town, at least, that’s what the sign out front says. Actually it is Connie and Tim’s favourite eatery, the food is magnificent and the owner is a personal friend of Tim’s. After a productive afternoon, and the unexpected return of his best and most capable assistant, Tim was able to get free a little early, so he was there waiting for them as they arrived.
“Phwit, phweew! (please forgive me, I never was very good at wolf whistling). The women demurred graciously at his crude compliment, but the whole restaurant turned, and actually gave a small round of applause as the three stunning babes entered. Now they blushed, but inside themselves, it felt so good. The Maitre’d accompanied them to their seats, and made them welcome, passing out the menus and the wine list. Marcello himself came out to compliment the ladies, and to wish them ‘bon appetit’, and thank them for again choosing his humble restaurant. Marcello has enjoyed an enormous amount of business thanks to the promotions at Tim’s theatre.
Food, wine, sparkling conversation, an entire restaurant full of good company, this evening just couldn’t get any better. Or could it?
As the hour approached the cheque was paid, express thanks to Marcello and his fine staff were given, and the gang trundled off to the Bijou, just a couple of blocks away. At the door Tim’s finest doorman was present, all shining buttons and epaulets, and a hearty, “Halt, who goes there?” Everyone has a great laugh, Tim hugs the doorman who is smiling from ear to ear, and the gang stroll inside. Tim has reserved them a group of seats at the front, privilege of the owner, and they shuffle down the row to their spot, and get themselves in order. After they chat for a while, drape their coats over the seat backs and generally get comfy, the house lights come down and Professor Zelmann’s music eerily starts in the wings.
A small, tight, dim spotlight centres on the curtain as the announcer launches into his booming announcement, “Ladies… and… Gentlemen. For his fourth successive week, and with ever increasing popularity, may I present for your enjoyment and amazement, the world’s most powerful hypnotist, Professor Zelmann!”
A rapturous round of applause accompanies the brightening and enlarging spotlight as the curtains part and Zelmann appears from within. He is an enigma just to look at, appearing to be anywhere between fifty and five hundred years old. He is wearing a long and flowing black cape with electric red lining, a fabulous top hat and striking bow tie, yowser. Certain parts it must be said did not need adornment or makeup. His eyes, for one, were intense, big black pupils, a rim of fire around them and hazel irises. If you looked at his eyes there was very little chance you wouldn’t be hypnotised, seriously! And his voice. There is no adequate way of describing the way his voice insinuates its way inside your head, soft, smooth, silky, laser like, gaseous (rambling now). He begins by telling the audience he had needed to go to the dentist recently.
“Ah, the wonders of modern technology, ladies and gentlemen. The lovely dentist, a sweet and caring woman, chose to offer me the gas. What a pleasant experience it was. She gently held the mask over my nose and mouth and applied the gas slowly, allowing it to trickle in. At first I felt a little apprehensive at the thought of losing control to the gas, but the calm reassurance of this sweet woman soon put my mind at ease. I am sure many of you have experienced the wonderful sensation of slipping gently down into deep and blissful relaxation as the dentist’s gas works its way through your bloodstream.”
It was happening, Zelmann’s voice was working even more effectively than gas, as his audience gave their rapt attention, the sing song sounds lulling everyone’s minds as he endlessly intones his message.
“I could feel, as her words encouraged me, the gentle swimming sensation as I got drowsier and drowsier, and my thoughts were lazily slipping away as I listened to her voice. I kept feeling sleepier and sleepier as I lay there listening to her speaking, I tried to listen to the words, just listen to the words as she gave me more and more of the sleep inducing drug, sending my thoughts to wonderful far off places as I drowsed. Then she asked me to count down from ten, so she could see when I went to sleep, it was important to know I was going down in to sleep. So I began… ten… I was already very tired and sleepy by now… nine… even though I was trying to keep my eyes open I could feel them getting heavier and heavier… eight… my eyes getting so very heavy they closed by themselves…”
More than half the audience had their eyes closed at this point, some who’d been before, other people who were extraordinarily good subjects, and as the remaining sleepy patrons noticed the others their eyes too became even heavier. Connie had heard all about the persuasive hypnotist from Tim, but it had not prepared her for this incredible power. Her eyelids were drooping heavily, she could not summon the will to get them to lift. Cherie was gone, his voice was familiar, although she had no idea why, and she dropped like a stone, deeply hypnotised straight away. Angie was fighting, and what a sight, straining to lift her leaden eyelids, her pupils like big black saucers. She wanted to try and stay awake, to see what the subjects got up to. As they continued to listen to his voice it was becoming slower, lower and sleepier. Absolutely no one was going to resist this induction, no one!
“I wasn’t able to open my eyes… they wanted to stay closed… seven… the darkness is bliss… six… drifting and floating away… five… slipping under into the realm of dreams and fantasies… four… down and down… deeper and deeper… three… listening only to the voice… two… the voice compels the mind… one… my voice compels your mind… zero… my voice compels you, now you are mine… sleep… sleep deeper and deeper as you sink in to the wonderful world of hypnosis, my dear subjects… sleep”
All the people in the theatre were asleep, every single last one of them, except Zelmann, of course! The lighting guy was asleep, the control room guy and girl were asleep, the stage manager was asleep, the grip was asleep, the audience was asleep. The world’s most powerful hypnotist? Could just possibly be.
“In a moment, ladies and gentlemen. I will ask for volunteers to be hypnotised. You will all be eager to be my subjects, and when I use my mysterious power to subdue your minds you will slip easily into a trance for me. You will believe you can resist, you will try, but you will fail. I command you now. When I ask for volunteers you will open your eyes, not even realising that you had closed them. Ladies and gentlemen can I please have some volunteers for my act?”
Immediately everyone opened their eyes, no one woke up. A sea of hands and tumultuous movement followed, and eventually twice as many people as seats were on stage. In an appreciative way the kindly old hypnotist placed his hand on many of the volunteers, encouraging them to have another go later, and sat the remaining victims (oops) on the seats. Opposite the chairs was a large screen, on which there was now a rather complicated icon turning and writhing, glowing and dimming, like nothing anyone there had seen before, it was awesome to look at. In fact, hypnotised or not, there was no looking away from it. Of course, the same picture was on the main large screen facing the audience. As the hypnotist turned to his volunteers, the whole audience and crew simply gaped at the screen.
“Now, my willing subjects, I wouldst have you stare into the hypnotic avatar, your will is simply leaving you as you listen to my voice, resist if you are able, fight if you dare, for my mind is superior to yours, and you will simply do as I say. Go to sleep… sleep… sleep… you are under my power… you are helpless… you are weak… go to sleep… sleep… sleep!”
Around two hundred and fifty people in a deep hypnotic trance, not bad, the wicked old hypnotist mused to himself. He cast his eye across the volunteers, and then peered out into the audience under the klieg lights. Oh my, such a mouth-watering selection of babes, how many Christmases does one man get. “Zelmann picked up the microphone and strode across the stage. “Now listen… to those on stage… prepare… you are all formula one drivers at the starting grid at the Italian Grand Prix… you are fast drivers… but you are courteous… you must give way to stray cats… twenty laps of the circuit, ready, steady, go!”
Immediately all the stage volunteers were holding up their hands, apparently in the various positions a steering wheel might be on a formula one car. Swerving and swaying, occasionally stopping for cats, and whizzing off again. “People in the audience, watch the crazy drivers, see them race for the championship prize… you see only the race... you cannot see me.”
Zelmann calmly descended the stairs, his charges would be occupied for ages like this. He came up to our girls, bending to Connie and whispering… sleep, dear lady… you must go to sleep…”
Connie closed her eyes without hesitation.
“You want a personal interview with me, you will arrange it, it is important to you, you want it so badly it must happen… talk to your husband… you want a personal interview with me… alone… you are brave… you do not fear me… you believe you can resist hypnosis… you can’t… you want a personal interview with me… alone… you will obey… do you understand?”
“Yes… I understand.”
“Good… you will not remember I said this, open your eyes and see only the race.”
Connie’s eyes opened, quite clearly deeply in a trance, and she soon returned to laughing and hooting at the antics of the drivers. Zelmann sidled up next to Cherie, “Ah, beautiful girl, you have come back to me, I like that… it is obvious you want me… it is especially obvious to you that you want me… tonight, you will come backstage with your beautiful friend on your left… you will suggest it… she will agree… come backstage after the show… I command you, you will obey… do you understand?”
“Yes, I will obey.” Was Cherie’s blank reply.
“Now forget… watch the race.”
Cherie opened her eyes much like Connie, slow and dreamy.
Zelmann spoke to Angie, “Your friend to your right wants to see me after the show, that makes you nervous… you will feel it is necessary to accompany her to look after her… she is your friend… it is important you protect her… she will ask you and you will eagerly agree to go with her… is that understood?”
“Yes, she is my dear friend… nothing must happen to her… I will protect her… I will agree to come with her.”
“Very good, my dear, I will look forward to seeing you, this evening. Watch the race now.”
Zelmann move to the second row where two more incredibly gorgeous and tall (get the theme here) girlfriends were sitting together, and spoke to them together, “You are very good friends… you like to do things together, don’t you?”
They answered in unison, “Yes, we do… good friends.”
Zelmann continued, “You are both so incredibly fascinated with the show you feel it is important to come backstage afterwards to talk with me about it… you have such a lot of questions… you need to have them answered… there are things you can’t live without… many questions that need answers… come backstage after the show and I will give you the answers you seek… my methods are interesting… answers are needed… you will obey… tell me you will obey!”
Once again, in unison, “I will obey!”
“Good girls, you will not know I have spoken to you while the race was on, we’re getting close to the chequered flag now, open your eyes and pay close attention to the race winners.” Zelmann returned to the stage, no one knew he had left, he revved up the race car drivers through the flag and on to the podium. He told everyone that they had had the best time of their lives, watching and performing, and when he woke the volunteers up, everyone woke up, but most people had no idea that they weren’t awake in the first place. He returned the volunteers to their seats and then had the second group come up, the ones who he had returned the first time. He quickly returned everyone to their trances, on stage and in the audience and control room. He had the volunteers playing skittles with elephants, had some of the men wrestling with mosquitoes, and some women swimming in treacle, and after a few more comic stunts (everyone was hysterical with laughter no matter what he suggested) he returned them all to their seats.
“Ladies and Gentlemen… you really have been the best audience I have ever had… you have all really enjoyed the show… it is quite clearly the best show you have ever seen, in fact… it is the best experience of your entire life… you will want to come again. Thank you most sincerely… and good night. Oh, and by the way, at the count of five anyone who is still under my influence will be wide awake… 1… 2… 3… 4… 5.”
As everyone closed and opened their eyes amidst shouting, laughing, hollering and tumultuous applause, the old hypnotist had simply disappeared, leaving them all pleasantly stunned. The closing music played gently in the background and the patrons talked and jostled, gathered coats and hats and moved calmly out to the auditorium, and many then off to the street, some remaining for a drink and chat. As Cherie stretched and yawned she suddenly decided to go backstage and meet him, thinking she ought to ask Angie, as well. Angie was brilliant, she just said yes with a strange faraway look in her eyes, but seems only too happy to agree. Cherie tells Tim and Connie she is going to meet him, just for a half hour or so, and to wait for her at the auditorium bar. Tim likes the hypnotist very much, and has no problem with them going to see him, and Connie fancies a quick drink and a fun chat about the show, so they all agree.