Skip to main content

Chapter 9


It wasn't long before Cecil was eating his words. The first non-official dance out didn't go entirely to plan. As they could not dance in uniform they had shown up wearing an array of different outfits. Some in functional but bland tracksuits or leggings, some in jeans and past tour t-shirts. Only a few of the ladies were in dresses but they were fairly formal looking. The overall picture was one of a bunch of novices, and this was the source of the first confrontation. They had arrived in Upton Magna and were performing their usual set. There were a few people watching this time, mainly as they did not realise who the people were until they started dancing. As they set up for the third dance there was a shout from the small group of people who were still hanging around.

"Hey, morris people. Sharpies! I thought that you had all stepped aside to let a real dancer show the people how it is done hey!" It was the Lord of the Dance, once again wearing his eye-catching costume. When he spoke, the word real was said more as reeeaal as he puffed out his chest and strutted before them like a peacock. He really stood out against the mishmash of outfits. "Why have you come back, you failed. You are the past no?"

"This guy is really annoying," said Dennis, stating the obvious.

"You think that you can do a better job Mr the Dance?" taunted Flo.

"Oh dear," said Cecil, more to himself than out loud as the Lord of the Dance walked towards them, chest puffed out like a balloon, chin held up high. He walked along the line of morris dancers, eyeing them up one by one until he arrived in front of Cecil.

"You are the one in charge no? Do you have a glove?"

"A glove? No, why?" asked Cecil a little perplexed. The man in purple reached out and took Cecil's handkerchief from his breast pocket. With a swift flick he swished it against each of Cecil's cheeks and let it float gently to the floor between them. As the white cotton square reached the ground, Cecil realised what had happened. "I challenge you to a dance off!" he shouted for all to hear. I challenge you, and you, and especially you!" he was skipping along the line, pointing at each dancer as he went. "Are you ready for what the Lord can deliver?" In a whisper he asked "What do you think of my catchphrase? Needs work still no?"

"Are you for real?" asked Brian stepping forward. "You couldn't last a minute as a morris man. I think that you should just mind your own business and be on your way."

"What do you the people want?" asked the Lord of the Dance, addressing the onlookers who were enjoying the mild confrontational jibes. "Do you want to watch these has beens tripping over themselves or do you want to see the Lord in action?"

"Let him dance!" shouted a voice in the crowd.

"Let's see what he can do!"

"Put your money where your mouth is."

"You," said the Lord of the Dance, pointing at Sylvia who was holding her fiddle. "Play!" Sylvia looked at Cecil who calmly nodded. She placed the instrument under her chin and dragged the well-rosined bow over the strings. The tune she played sang to the crowd and the dancers, setting toes tapping straight away, hips swaying to the undeniable rhythm. Like a streak of lightening, the Lord of the Dance sprang to life. He spun on the spot before grabbing a length of spruce from one of the morris men. He swung it around Fred Astairesquely before throwing it in the air like a majorette's baton. He span faster and faster, becoming a blur before stopping like a statue and plucking the falling stick out of the air. His feet nimbly tapped along the road and the pavement, picking out different sounds to complement the fiddle and wow the enthralled audience. Now that he had their attention he fed off the responses like a ravenous tiger. The cheering and applauding egged him on as he now swung the stick as though he were performing kendo. His form and line had power yet was graceful and sleek.

Brian stepped forward having decided that this was too much, his feet picked up the beat as he single-stepped to the tune he knew well. The two dancers squared up. Brian performed a move which the Lord of the Dance copied with a flourish. Everything that Brian did, the Lord of the Dance was able to repeat. He was magnificent. They swung their sticks around and clashed, first in a fencing manner, then butts and tips. Brian was not holding back yet the Lord of the Dance easily dealt with the ferocity of his blows. Brian was visibly getting tired yet the Lord of the Dance looked like he was just warming up. The song came to its end at which point the Lord of the Dance broke away and ended with the splits. Brian hobbled off, a beaten man.

The crowd cheered like the morris dancers had not heard in a long time. The Lord of the Dance soaked up the applause and milked it, bowing and smiling. He addressed the morris dancers as the noise calmed. "Hey morris dancers. You are beaten no? Am I not the greatest? Did I not deliver? It is I, the Lord of the Dance who will protect the people of Shropshire from now on. You are the past, it I the Lord who is the future no?"

The only thing that Cecil said in response was "Pack up." The dancers put away their instruments and drifted away to their cars one by one to the sound of the cheering behind them.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Chapter 19

Being ready to take on Brian was one thing, finding him in the first place was something else entirely. The dancers tried knocking on his front door but there was no answer. They tried tried banging louder but it made no difference. Agnes even tried rattling the letter box flap. "What now?" asked Dennis feeling slightly deflated. He had psyched himself up for a battle and was now a bit put out. "I'm thinking," replied Cecil. Brian was rarely away from home. If he wasn't carrying out the three P's - patrolling, practising or performing - he was at home doing some kind of DIY. "Try the garage," Cecil suggested. "Already have," replied Flo, "no sign of him." "Cunning," said Cecil. "He obviously knew that we'd be coming," said Sylvia with an air of I-told-you-so. "He's legged it. What we need to do is work out where, is there anywhere he would go? Friends? Family? If not, we ne...
Post a Comment
Read more

Chapter 18

"Cotswold?" Really? Why?" The dancers did not take the news as well as Cecil had hoped. He knew that the dancers were proud of their style but did not expect them to be so defensive. "What can they do which we can't?" Cecil had a job of explaining but he persevered. Eventually the complaints died down and the dancers accepted that there may be some things which they can learn. They were willing to give it a try. "For his sins, Brian did have one thing right," said Cecil. "We have become lax. We have taken our skills for granted. But no more. We will train harder than ever before..." There was a cheer from some of the dancers in agreement, "We will regain the trust of the people who we protect..." another cheer, this time louder, "we will regain our bells!" With this, the team cheered and applauded, although only briefly, in a restrained manner and without any whoops. The trainer's name was Gerald. He had...
Post a Comment
Read more

Chapter 15

Brian felt ashamed about the way that he'd lost to the Lord of the Dance. He prided himself on being the strongest dancer, the most accomplished with a stick, yet he'd been bested by someone half his size. Dance practice had become to Brian exactly that, dance practice. It was meant to be a way to showcase their skills with a stick, their agility and ability. Instead, the focus had been lost and they were more interested in entertaining than educating. People needed to know how formidable they were. That reputation had been destroyed by the Lord of the Dance but it had been slowly eroded over the years by their own hand. Their signature 'bricklayers' dance using trowels and short sticks used to be breathtaking and awe-inspiring. Now it was almost farcical slap-stick. Brian reviewed the training program and with a smile, tore it in two. It would need to be redesigned, they had become lost and it was up to him to find them again, back to basics. He set to work. * ...
Post a Comment
Read more