“Hilarious,” said Danny.
“Sorry to interrupt,” said the portly magician Danny had seen earlier. His face was red like he’d just been Heimliched, and he leaned on Tim to catch his breath. “You haven’t seen a rabbit by any chance, have you? He’s white, about this big, answers to the name of Derek. He’s got long ears and teeth and, well, he’s a rabbit.”
“Sorry,” said Danny.
“Only cats and pandas here,” said Krystal.
The man sighed and wiped his face with his colorful string of handkerchiefs. Taking a blast of his asthma inhaler, he ran off in search of Derek.
* * *
“Let’s hear it for Gerry!” said the host. Gerry waved feebly as two paramedics took her off on a stretcher. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen break-dancing taken so literally before. That wasn’t hip-hop. That was hip-POP!”
The audience groaned.
“Get it? Hip-pop? Whatever. Next up we’ve got a very special musical double act from Peckham. One of them is hairy and never cuts his nails, and the other one is a cat! Put your paws together for Timothy and Milton, everybody!”
A glowing sea of smartphones rose above the crowd as Tim and Milton appeared onstage. Nobody had a free hand to clap with, but the sound of a thousand “awws” made up for the lack of applause.
“Good evening, everybody,” said Tim, brushing his hair out of his face. “My name’s Tim and this stylish fella right here is my good friend Milton. Say hello, Milton.”
Milton meowed into the microphone and the crowd dissolved into mush. Even Sarah smiled briefly.
“We’re going to play you a song tonight. I hope you enjoy it. Milton chose it, actually. I’m sure you’ll understand why.”
He strummed his guitar and the crowd began to sway as the opening bars of “What’s New Pussycat?” rang out around the park.
* * *
Danny and Will flinched in unison as “Uptown Funk” started blasting from Krystal’s handbag.
“All right, you sexy bitch,” she said, pressing her phone to her ear. “What?… Great. I’ll be there in two mins.… Okay, babes. Ciao.”
“Who was that?” said Danny.
“El Magnifico?” said Will. Danny sniggered as they shared a high five.
“Say that again and I’ll high-five your nose,” said Krystal. “Grab that bag of face paint and follow me, funny man.”
“Where are you going?” said Danny.
“Last-minute prep,” said Krystal.
“Last-minute prep? What last-minute prep? You didn’t mention anything about last-minute prep!”
“Don’t get your fur in a tangle,” she said. “Just stick to the plan and leave the rest to me.”
“How can I stick to the plan if I don’t know what the plan is!”
“You’re going to be awesome, don’t worry,” said Will as he hugged his dad. “Mum would be well proud of you. I’m well proud of you. And Krystal is well proud of you too, even though she won’t admit it.”
“All right, you,” said Krystal, gently squeezing Will’s shoulders. “Move your arse before you make my mascara run.” She looked at Danny as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. She nodded at Will. “What he said.”
Danny smiled and watched them go before turning his eyes towards the canvas ceiling.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us,” he said.
* * *
The audience erupted as Tim took a bow, careful not to bend too low so Milton wouldn’t fall off his shoulder.
“Thanks, everybody,” he said. “Say thank you, Milton.” Milton meowed into the microphone and everybody melted all over again.
“How about that for a purrrfect purrrformance?” said the host.
The crowd cheered in agreement, warming to the acts if not to the host’s crappy jokes.
“I don’t know about you, but I’d say it’s going to take something pretty spectacular to compete with a performance like that, something really amazing like, I don’t know, a singing dog or something. But where would we find one of those? Wait a minute,” he said, moving his hand to the earpiece he wasn’t wearing and pretending to listen intently. “You’ll never guess what, folks. That’s exactly what we’ve got for you tonight! Please give a warm welcome to Jack and Daniels!”
The crowd laughed as a giddy Jack Russell galloped across the stage and leapt onto a folding chair positioned beside a short microphone stand. His owner, Daniels, the same elderly gentleman that Danny had seen practicing earlier, shuffled out a moment later, still wearing his white T-shirt with Jack’s face printed on it but now also sporting a porkpie hat that looked like it doubled as his dog’s favorite chew toy. He grabbed the mic from the taller stand and tapped it a couple of times, then gestured to someone behind the curtain. The Spice Girls started booming from the speakers as Jack, Daniels, and everybody over the age of twenty-five sang the opening verses of “Wannabe.”
The following act was a seven-man Japanese dance troupe who ran around the stage dressed like robots, sometimes chasing each other and sometimes being chased by a large squid monster with flashing red eyes. Next up was a Belarussian strongwoman who twisted steel rods into various shapes as if she were twisting balloons before throwing them into the crowd as gifts, a charitable gesture that was sadly offset by several minor head injuries. A unicyclist was followed by a ballet dancer, an escape artist, a sword swallower, and a mime. A bunch of Mexican acrobats called Circ du Olé spent five minutes swinging from the rigging while dressed in comically oversize sombreros, and a snake charmer from Wigan almost fainted while furiously playing his pungi until finally giving up when Fred, his Indian cobra, made it absolutely clear that he was not going to leave his basket. A teenage rap duo and a martial artist with a wooden leg came next, and they were followed by the chicken man, the nut juggler, the one-man band, and the human statue, until, with just two performances remaining, it was El Magnifico’s turn to take the stage.
The host came out to introduce him, marching from behind the curtain with his crumpled blazer flapping open. He looked like he’d been drinking.
“Is everybody having fun?” he shouted.
The crowd responded mostly in the affirmative.
“I can’t hear you!” he yelled, a little belligerently, as if he actually hadn’t heard them and hated asking the same question twice. “I said, is everybody having fun!”
People murmured in a way that suggested they’d be having a lot more fun if he stopped asking them if they were having fun.
“That’s better! You know, I’m glad I’m not the one judging tonight’s competition, because I’d give everybody first prize. Who do you think deserves to win?”
Everybody answered at the same time, their words fusing together to create the impression that the favorite act of the night so far was a Mexican clown charmer.
“Well, before you decide who should be crowned Mr. or Mrs. Street Performer of the Year, hold your horses because the show isn’t over yet! We’ve got two performances left, and this next one is guaranteed to blow your mind. We don’t know his real name and we don’t know where he comes from. All we know for sure is that he’s going to show you something that may just make you question everything you’ve ever known. Without further ado, let’s hear it for El Magnifico!”