Robert the Puppetmaster | Teen Ink

Robert the Puppetmaster

January 25, 2017
By CalebTurck BRONZE, Dexter, Michigan
CalebTurck BRONZE, Dexter, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“...and they all lived happily ever after.”
A crowd of children and parents alike had gathered around to give a standing ovation. From behind a quaint miniature stage, came a charming elderly man. His face had a almost cute complexion, with a little pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. After a bow with the utmost grace and care, a little sign dropped down from a paddle in his hand. It read:

Robert J. the Puppetmaster
Come for the show
Stay for the magic

The town of Ærøskøbing was certainly no Coppenhagen, only having around 930 people and all, but boy did Robert draw a crowd. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday people would come from all over town, even surrounding bigger cities, to see his Puppetshow. The act was so successful because Robert was at the age of 87, and using his years of practice, listening, and having kept a keen eye on the theater industry from multiple different countries, he could perform hundreds of different stories and dramas. No two shows were alike, and no two performances of the same story would play out quite the same as the last time it had been told. But today was was no ordinary day, for there was an eerie essence floating around the country; a new ordinance by Parliament had been made. Digging through the political jargon and utter nonsense, one can find out that the income tax from all registered performers of any kind were to be tripled due to the need of new roading which Denmark couldn’t quite afford. This meant that Robert was in desperate need of financial aid, as he did not want to raise the prices so that everyone can afford to see the art.

A hand appeared on Robert’s shoulder.
“Hello there sir” said the person from behind. Turning around subtly, Robert could make out a strange character; A tall, menacing man in a long coat, with a face which seemed to hide a million lies.
“I’m busy packing my puppets, I don’t have time to be roughhoused.”
“On the contrary, I’m here to offer you a business proposal. We know of the new Parliament order, and because of that we wanted to find a deserving performer to hire to help with our...service.”
“Oh my, what does that entail?”
“Simply put, we want you to hide and use our machines in your theater, which will be making counterfeit bills for our...family. Think of it as getting even with our Government screwing you over.” 
“I can’t really say no to this can I.”
“Smart head on your shoulders there gramps.”

The town looked peaceful from the window of the Old Fithersome Theater, and just like usual, it was. Robert turned his view back towards the monstrous machinery, pumping out long sheets of fake 500 euro banknotes coming out. His mind began to fill with guilt and regret for not standing up for himself, but he would be lying to himself if he thought his 87 year old body could take any form of altercation. After filling some of his leftover marionette cases with illegal tender, Robert delivered them to a discrete location at the edge of a small bluff, where the terrain was so battered and ugly it had less than a handful of visitors in a month, let alone a year. As Robert traversed the treacherous landscape, a root caught the tip of his loafers, sending his frail body hurtling toward a drop off towards the beach. Keeping his eyes shut tight, he began saying the Hail Mary, before impacting into a fluffy bush whose branches were strong and flexible enough to take away the force of the collision.
“...That’s the last time I deliver counterfeits without proper footwear” coughed out Robert. Surprisingly, the man he had met a few days prior had come back to help him.
“How come you came back, I already gave you the money” inquired Robert.
“Just because I am a shady person on the outside doesn’t mean I’m terrible enough to ignore when an elderly man has become injured and is in need of assistance, I mean come on, we’re like the Canadians of Europe.” Responded the contact.
“Young man, may I get your name, for you have just saved my life.”
“Ehhhhhh........Jacob, call me Jacob.”
Jacob helped old Robert into his car, and took him to the hospital. After the exhausting process of multiple doctors assessing his situation, Robert opened his eyes to see Jacob had stayed with him.
“Lad, what is your ambition in life? For I have not heard of such a generous criminal before.”
“I was born into a the family of the head of a crime ring, from counterfeiting, to even drug trafficking; the whole shebang. But when I was growing up, I learned to love the art of music, and became quite good at many instruments. My Family was in short supply of ways to get pretty much anything for free, opening my opportunities tenfold.”
“Well why did you stop, music is a beautiful part of life, especially if you're good at producing it for others?”
“Well, when one is the son of a Kingpin it’s not good light for my father when I answer the question ‘How many people have you killed’ with ‘None, but I play a mean piccillo’.
Robert took a few minutes to respond, partially because he wanted to answer perfectly, but also the meds the doctors had him on was pretty euphoric.
“Son, I don’t believe you have to kill people, nor do I think you necessarily should throw away your family business, but music is a long lasting passion which I can see means a lot to you. I refuse to do anymore of your dirty work, but instead I have a proposal. As long as you can help me through the last stage of my life and support the theater, I would happily have you be a soloist for my performances. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness.”
“I came for show, stayed for the magic, and now, I’ve been shown a new life, thank you.”
Fin.



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