Disclaimer: The characters in the story are fictitious and bear no resemblance to the original historical characters. 

The warm glow of the spotlights in the Birchwood auditorium where we were shooting for ‘Who is Julius Caesar?’ covered me with warmth and silent adulation. Though I sat there, sweating beneath the heavy armour and makeup, I did not flinch nor attempt to escape into the cool air-conditioned environs of my cabin.

This was an escape… to me… where and what I was doing. 

I continued my rehearsal for the main show, to happen the next day, as Julius Caesar. My co-actors could see me getting exhausted and implored me to get rid of that makeup and accessories but I turned a deaf year as usual. 

The director shouted, “Pack up!”  

Gosh! I dread this moment. 

I hurriedly returned to my cabin and stayed in, with my past.

*******

The days I spent as a child in Nutting village, Wellington dist., New Orleans, were simple yet full of exuberance. There wasn’t much money to buy what you wished for and I hadn’t so many wishes that needed financial support. So, life was sailing on smooth waters, the occasional turbulence being the appearance of my Dad in his drunken happy state. 

Dad’s appearance flickered out in the next few years much to my relief. Meanwhile, I passed out of high school without a glitch. 

I didn’t want to study further and there wasn’t much to do in that small place.

One day, I didn’t know what happened. Suddenly, I heard my mother screaming.

“I don’t have any money nor the papers of this house. Get out!”

“Nolaaaaan…..”

I could see her bloodshot eyes. I couldn’t run away. I did after some time, wishing everything would be alright but it was too late when I returned. 

Then, sorrow became fear. The fiendish silhouettes, trying to catch me, ruined my days and nights. Till I realized that I had to do something to fill my stomach with something more than superfluous thoughts. 

****** 

I honed my acting skills at James Edison Drama School and best of all, used my appearances to camouflage my fear. The moment I got into the character; I would never be bothered by…….

Did someone see me that day? Will I meet the same fate as my mother?

The main show was running to a packed house. The crowd was up on its feet insisting that I accept the crown of Rome. I looked triumphant with Mark Antony by my side. 

The scene changed to the House of the Senate. The proceedings took an unfortunate turn as Cassius, Casca and last of all, his loyal Brutus, come forth to stab me. 

I cried with passion, “Et tu Brute!” 

The crowd roared with me. But I wasn’t prepared for this. Brutus stopped short. 

“Caesar, you can’t run forever, you murderer!”

“Brutus?” I screamed as I turned to face the same fearful silhouettes.

“Sergeant Brutus, my dear Nolan. We are fortunate to have a great historical figure in our midst.” He handcuffed me.

I fell on my knees. I wouldn’t be wearing that odious makeup any longer. What a relief!