After the Panto

‘Hey, you’re back. How did it go?’

‘Thank god it’s over. It sounded like such a good idea in October. Take my nephew to the panto on Christmas Eve, give my sister and brother-in-law a chance to talk with my parents without the nephew demanding attention every other second, be a good uncle, brother, son, bond man to man with Lewis Minor. How could a good deed go so wrong!’

‘Didn’t he enjoy it? I thought all kids liked the panto.’

‘Oh, he loved it. But do you know what the Odeon sounds like when there are 5,000 children screaming at Aladdin to watch out for the evil wizard?’

‘The Odeon doesn’t seat that many people.’

‘They hung them from the rafters. They were all small and packed in four to a seat. All of them shouting and eating chocolates. I was the only person over 21 in the entire theatre except for the actors. I’ve got such a headache. Is there anything to eat? Or drink? Preferably both, but I’ll take drink rather than food. I asked the Frog what he wanted to eat afterwards, and he insisted on burgers and chips. As we were leaving my parents’ house, my sister specifically told him he was not to eat fast food. Of course, that put the idea in his head. And nothing would do but the Great Danes at Horatio’s Hamburger Hamlet. He ate all of his and most of mine. He also insisted I try this milk shake called a Polonius Assault. He assured me it was the best thing on the menu. It must have contained the annual output of sugar from some Caribbean island along with enough artificial fruit flavourings to poison all of Brighton. It was pink, Ari, pink!!! Like chewing gum.’

‘It sounds as if you had a great time, Lewis.’

‘He wants to do it again next year. As I was dropping him off at my parents’, he asked if I would take him again next year.’

‘Next year take him to the Nutcracker.’

‘I don’t think he’ll be the type to enjoy ballet.’

‘Poor Lewis. He’s only--what is he now?--seven? And already your namesake is straight. Well, take Lewis Minor to a rugby game. Both of you will enjoy that--men chasing one another around in the mud and getting all dirty.’

‘You and I are going to take a holiday next December. Somewhere without a panto. Can we visit your family in Tel Aviv? Surely there’s no panto in Israel.’

‘Here’s your drink. I’m warming some leftover curry in the oven for you.’

‘You are my lifesaver.’

‘I even come with a hole in the middle.’

‘Don’t start. I heard enough double-entendres today to last a lifetime.’

‘What are you so squicked about? You usually like that kind of humour.’

‘My most embarrassing moment.’

‘What? Why are you mumbling?’

‘My most embarrassing moment of the day.’

‘What happened? Tell me.’

‘Well, when Aladdin recovers his treasure at the end, it turns out to be this chest full of candy, and he and the princess and Widow Twankey pick up handfuls of it and start throwing it into the audience. That causes a major riot. When everything settles down, the Widow Twankey walks over to the horse and reaches under the hind legs. There’s this loud sound of a zipper being unzipped. Then the actor playing Twankey pokes around between the horse’s legs. Finally he pulls out this enormous stick of Brighton Rock. Of course, all the kiddies thought that was hilarious.’

‘Well, it was clever. But how did that embarrass you?’

‘Well, he prances about on the stage, peering out into the audience. He even asked them to raise the house lights so that he could see the “good little boy” who’s going to get this “large Brighton Rock up his stocking”. Unfortunately I had decided to be the good uncle and popped for expensive seats so that the nephew could see everything. So we’re right there in the centre front, and the nephew is jumping up and down, clamouring to be the one who gets the stick. Twankey is pacing back and forth drawing out the suspense. Finally he motions everyone to be quiet. And he says in this queeny voice, “Aha, I see someone who reaaaaaaally enjoys Brighton Rock and who reaaaaaaaaaally knows how to suck on it.” And then he leans over the edge of the stage and tosses it in my lap.’

‘He didn’t. Oh, Lewis, that’s hilarious. “Someone who really knows how to suck on it.” He said that in public? In front of an audience of children. Luckily, that must have gone over their heads.’

‘Oh, no. The monsters got the joke. All of them. All of them screaming and pointing at me and repeating it. Even the nephew. As we were leaving, a dozen kids stopped me and asked me to show them how to suck on Brighton Rock. And their parents are glaring at me as if I might do just that. I could tell that they wanted to have me arrested for public indecency. But that wasn’t the worst.’

‘There’s more?’

‘When I took him back, the nephew runs into the house holding the stick of Brighton Rock aloft and tells my sister and her husband and my parents what happened. They all thought it was uproarious. This is destined to become a family legend, Ari. I just know it. I’ll have to hear about this every time I see them. Uncle Lewis and his Brighton Rock.’

‘Oh, Lewis, my teacup, come here. Let me give you a hug.’

‘Teacup? Now you’re laughing at me too.’

‘It was in my English textbook in school. Mr Smith always called Mrs Smith “his little teacup”. But Widow Twinky is just lucky I wasn’t there. I would have known where to put that Brighton Rock. I would have defended your honour from this travesty.’

‘You would have been mobbed by an army of angry children. Widow Twankey is a sacred British institution. And think of the bad example you would have set for young Lewis.’

‘Bad example? He would have seen someone defending a loved one. How is that bad?’

‘You would do that for me? Risk disembowelment by a horde of future footie louts? That’s so sweet.’

‘Disembowelment? I didn’t realise these children were footsie louts in the making. Maybe a black eye, Lewis, but disembowelment? That’s rather extreme--I would have to think about that. But, of course, if I had been there, Dame Tinkle would have awarded me the Brighton Rock, and you would have had to defend my honour and risk a moppet mauling. So it is a moot point.’

‘Oh thanks. That makes me feel much better.’

‘I hope so. Your curry must be hot by now. Go into the dining room and I’ll bring it in.’

‘Ari, what’s this?’

‘What’s what, love?’

‘This small tree on the sideboard.’

‘Well, I didn’t have anything to do this afternoon, since you were out contributing to the delinquency of minors with your demonstrations of rock-sucking techniques. So I decided to do a bit of decorating. And I found this small tree in a pot. And I thought a bit of green would brighten the dining room. Besides cedar always smells nice.’

‘But we decided we wouldn’t celebrate Christmas. I mean it is a Christian holiday and you’re . . . .’

‘And I’m not. It’s just a tree, Lewis. It has nothing to do with Christmas.’

‘Just a tree?’

‘Just a tree. It’s just for decoration. Just like those candles that you put in all the windows a couple of weeks ago were just pretty decorations. Now eat your dinner. Say “Thank you, Ari,” and don’t mention it again.’

‘Thank you, Ari.’

‘My pleasure, Lewis.’

‘The tree looks nice. It was a good idea.’

‘So were the candles. Now eat your curry before it gets cold.’