Dancing Jax

“They’re going to have to buy new cameras tomorrow,” Jezza said simply. “Let’s get on with what we came here for.”

Miller, Dave and Charlie heaved the great Gothic-looking object out of the container and set it down the right way up. A reverberating clang went echoing between the container canyons.

Shiela approached it warily. It was a great metal chair, no – it was more like a throne. She wandered around it, careful not to get too close. There was something unpleasant, almost malevolent, about it, not just because it was heavy and ugly or because it was too large for a normal-sized person to sit on comfortably. Crafted from fancy cast-iron work, with curling fronds and interlocking patterns, it seemed more than what it appeared to be, as though it had another purpose. Each arm was formed to be like a cage, so was the seat and the high back.

“It’s horrible,” she said.

Queenie had no such misgivings. She was already using it as a prop to dance suggestively around. Manda had found the beers and was necking her first while Tommo brandished a plastic bag and brought out a packet of burgers and some baps.

“Let’s get this party cooking!” he said.

“Don’t be a cretin all your life,” Jezza told him severely. “Chuck that crap away and get the coals.”

The lightning continued to crackle overhead.

“I’ve never seen an electrical storm like this,” Charlie declared. He lifted his hand and viewed it through his thick lenses. The hairs were standing on end. “The air is charged with static!”

“Gather around the Waiting Throne,” Jezza told everyone. “Not too close, and keep away from the containers. It might get a bit … frisky up there.”

“Ow!” Manda cried as a whisker of blue light leaped from the can to her lip. She dropped it and the beer went foaming over the floor.

“What’s going on?” Miller called.

“We’re just charging up,” Jezza answered. “This is the best place for it – all this wonderful metal, like a massive aerial.”

“Tuning into what?” Shiela asked.

The man smiled at her. “Whom,” he said.

“I love it!” Queenie shouted, tingling as she stroked the arm of the iron chair.

“Ow!” Manda cried again. This time her necklace was throwing out millipede legs of energy and she removed it hastily. It jumped and twitched on the ground.

“I advise you all to get rid of any jewellery now,” Jezza told them.

Bracelets and rings were hurriedly taken off and Charlie had to lose his glasses. Shiela could feel her hair lifting and there was an unpleasant tang in her mouth.

“Like licking a battery,” Tommo said, voicing her own thoughts.

He had been bringing out the bags of charcoal. Now Jezza ripped them open and, taking one to the chair, twisted one of the designs in the ironwork. The top of an arm hinged open. It took three bags to fill the space beneath. Then he went to the other arm and did the same there.

The lightning continued to flash and split the sky.

Shiela had been staring up at the giant cranes. The electricity was leaping between them, arcing across the port in a spectacular display.

She could not understand what was happening. Why were they really here? When she lowered her eyes, Jezza had filled the seat and the back of the chair, with only one bag to spare. The throne was now packed with charcoal.

“Get the water carriers,” he ordered Tommo. “I want them close.” Then he gestured for everyone to stand clear.

“I don’t like this,” Manda said. “I thought we were going to have a laugh. This isn’t a laugh. It’s mad.”

Miller reached to hold her hand. A spark flew across and they jumped apart.

“I want to go home!” she cried.

“Muzzle her,” Jezza snapped. “You should be grovelling on your faces to be here, to witness the contract.”

Shiela agreed with Manda, but Queenie’s eyes were sparkling. She felt more alive than she had in years; she didn’t want this to end. She lifted her hands in the air and dared the lightning to strike her, laughing hysterically.

Dave stared at her. Filaments of energy were branching off her body as she danced. He didn’t know whether to be terrified or surrender himself to the experience and see what happened. Tommo could feel his hair crackling with the static. It tickled him and he hopped about manically. Spiders of light came leaping from his arms and legs.

Tesco Charlie could barely make out what was happening. It was a blur of brilliant blue zigzags and shapes, but he thought it was amazing and threw back his head to yell out his delight.

“Begin,” Jezza said to Howie.

The tattooist had been very quiet and now, when they looked at him, they saw that his piercings were spitting with strands of flickering blue flame and yet he seemed oblivious to it.

“And so the Holy Enchanter dared what only the Dawn Prince before had done,” he said, reading out loud from the book. “For there was no other way to bring order to the warring Court. With great courage, he stepped up to the Waiting Throne and proved that only he was worthy of becoming the Ismus. Only he could rule in his Lord’s absence and so the pact was made and sealed with fire!”

On that last word there was a deafening clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning came shooting down. It slammed into the iron chair. There was a shrill, razoring chime and the coals within exploded in flames.

Everyone cried out and covered their faces. Shiela turned to run, but the alley between the containers was alive with electricity. The forking streaks were rebounding from wall to wall, forming an impassable and lethal fence.

Manda was sobbing into her hands, but Howie’s voice was louder.

“From that day the Holy Enchanter’s word was law,” he declaimed. The studs in his bottom lip were wreathed with cold fire that snaked throughout his gingery beard. “And none who beheld that contract dared conspire against him! His authority was absolute.”

The coals within the iron chair were blazing and beginning to glow a cherry red. Then Shiela realised what was about to happen.

“No,” she breathed in horror. But she couldn’t stop it. Though her mind told her it was insane, she knew this was meant to be. This was how it must be. Howie’s voice was fogging her judgement. She thought she was back in that castle, looking up at the throne, and the entire Court was gathered around them, holding their breath with fear and wonder.

Jezza removed his leather jacket and slipped off his boots. Howie continued reading from the book and still Queenie danced.

Then the rain began. The iron chair hissed and the flames died within the charcoal. The electric forces around them dimmed and were extinguished. Jezza was naked now. With his head bowed, he approached the Waiting Throne.

“Don’t!” Shiela begged, her reason struggling to the fore. “You’ll die!”

Her boyfriend did not respond, but Howie turned to her and in a solemn, commanding voice said, “Have faith, Labella.”

And then, as the rain teemed down, Miller stepped forward, all expression gone from his face. The burly man lifted Jezza by the waist and lowered him on to the scorching metal of the chair and Jezza pressed his bare back against it.

Shiela covered her ears. His shrieks were louder than the thunder that boomed across the harbour. She saw him clench his teeth so tightly that every vein stood out across his neck and chest and he placed his arms on those of the chair. Another howl of thunder – or was it merely him?

Miller bowed and walked backwards.

“Enough!” Shiela screamed, breaking through the enchantment that had smothered her. “That’s enough!”

Darting forward, she seized Jezza’s hands and pulled him clear. He went rolling on the ground, curled up in a ball, choking with his pain-filled cries.