The Trick
{{#ifeq: | | {{#ifeq: Black Robed Mage | |
{{#ifeq: Black Robed Mage | ||
Author: Black Robed Mage
}} |
{{#ifeq: Black Robed Mage | |
Author: Black Robed Mage |
Author: Black Robed Mage
}}
}} |
{{#ifeq: Black Robed Mage | |
{{#ifeq: Black Robed Mage | | Authors: ' |
Authors: Black Robed Mage
}} |
{{#ifeq: Black Robed Mage | |
Authors: Black Robed Mage |
Author: Black Robed Mage
}}
}}
}} {{#if:| — see also [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}
LIVE FOR THREE DAYS ONLY
ON STAGE, DAVID L. EDWARDS
THE GREATEST MAGICIAN OF OUR TIME
OPTICAL ILLUSIONS AND THE GREATEST TRICKS
RUN, DON’T WALK, AND GET YOUR TICKET TODAY
Sam had seen the sign everyday for the past week on his way home from school. The boy loved magic, and had seen David Edwards on TV several times. He knew all of his tricks, and how many of them were performed. He had to agree with the advertisement; his tricks were the greatest.
Sam was excited; in a few hours, he would get to see David Edwards in person. Not only would he be able to see some great magic tricks up close, but he would be able to look where the camera doesn’t want the viewer to. Sam hoped to end the night knowing a little more about magic than he did now.
The boy was so nervous he had left the house a couple of hours early. He stood in front of the theater, waiting for the doors to open so people could be seated. Sam reached into the pocket of his cargo pants, for the eighth time in as many minutes, to make sure his wallet, and the ticket, was still there.
As he put his wallet back in his pocket, he heard the sound of a door squeaking open in the alley next to the theater. Sam looked around to see if anyone else had heard the sound. Sam couldn’t even see anyone else around. He heard the door squeak again, and ran around the corner as fast as his 14 year-old legs could carry him.
He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. There, not fifteen feet from the boy, stood David Edwards. The middle-aged man was moving stuff from the back of a small truck into the theater through a stage door.
Before Sam could react, the magician spotted him and waved a hand. Sam half expected magical sparkles or a ‘bang’; all he heard was the man’s voice.
“Hey, kid,” the magician smiled, “can you give me a hand with this?”
As fast as he could nod, Sam was next to the man, helping him move a large glass box into the theater.
After several more trips, the two had moved several set pieces, a dozen or so doves, a raccoon, several decks of cards, and a few wands into the backstage area of the theater. Once they finished, the magician invited Sam into his dressing room.
The man closed the door and turned to Sam, “So kid, how can I repay you?”
Millions of things ran through his mind. Here he was, a boy who wanted to know all about magic, with a magician owing him a favor. He felt his heart rate start to climb as the thoughts ran through his head. He could find out anything he wanted. Every trick he had ever seen David Edwards perform ran through his head. He wanted to find out about them all, but knew that would be asking too much.
As if reading his mind, the magician spoke up, “I know kid; you want to know how one of my tricks works.”
Sam managed to nod.
The man smiled warmly, “Well, you seem the trustworthy sort; I’ll let you in on one of my tricks, but only one. Which will it be?”
Sam looked around the room, desperately trying to find something that would help him decide which trick would be the most interesting to know. His gaze shot around the room like a rubber ball, never focusing on one thing for more than a couple of seconds, until he spotted a large glass box with a cushioned bottom. He recognized it immediately; it was used in the trick that made David Edwards famous. Sam raised a shaky hand and pointed at the box.
“Ah, that trick,” the man smiled, “you picked a big one.”
Sam smiled. He loved the trick. It was one of the few he had never been able to figure out. The man put a finger to his lip, as if thinking.
“You see,” he looked down at the boy, as if waiting for something.
“Sam,”
“Sam,” the man repeated, “the thing is, this trick is a little difficult to explain.”
Sam felt a little disappointed. This was the trick he really wanted to know about. He let out a sigh.
“Why the long face?” the man put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “I’m still gonna let you see how it’s done, I’m just going to have to show you instead of tell you.”
“How?”
“Tonight, you’re here for the show aren’t you?”
“I am” Sam said, pulling his ticket from his wallet. The magician took the wallet from his hand and looked at it.
“P14? That’s near the back,” the man said bluntly, “I think we can do better.” He twirled the ticket in his fingers and handed it back to the boy, “A8, front row center.” Sam took the ticket, amazed at the close up example of slight of hand.
“Okay,” the magician said, clapping his hands together, “tonight, at the end of the show, when I perform the trick, I’ll call you from the audience. You’ll get a personal view of how it works.”
Sam smiled as the magician ruffled the boy’s blonde hair. “I’ve got to get ready; I think they’ve started seating people. I’ll see you at the end of the show.”
Sam glanced at his watch as he left David Edwards dressing room and made his way back out the stage door. He walked around to the front of the theater, gripping his ticket tightly. He stood impatiently in the short line of people waiting to get into the theater; his heart was thumping a mile a minute. He was going to get to see how a trick worked close up.
The boy’s ticket was stamped and he made his way, on weak legs, to his seat at the front of the theater, just left of the walkway. Sam sat for several long minutes before the lights went down and the curtain went up.
The show was better than anything he had ever seen on television. The effects felt real, and the tricks were more impressive when he was less than twenty feet away. Having birds actually fly over his head, seeing sparks and smoke float around him, and seeing playing cards actually flutter to his feet was one of the greatest experiences of his life; more than once, he had to remind himself that the best part of the evening was going to be at the end.
Finally, the moment came. One of David Edwards’ assistants rolled the large glass box on stage. The magician turned towards the audience and spoke, “Many of you are probably familiar with this trick. For those of you who are fans,” he glanced down at Sam, who couldn’t help but blush a little, “you know what to expect.”
“For the rest of you,” he continued, “I will explain what I am about to do. I will take a member from the audience, place them the glass box you see behind me, and turn them into an animal.”
The audience applauded the explanation of the trick. He stepped back to the box and waved a hand around it, “you will notice that there is only a curtain behind the box, nothing in front or on the sides to obstruct your view. I like to vary this spell a little. Tonight, I will be turning a member of the audience into a raccoon.”
Sam felt a smile creep across his face. He had helped David Edwards unload a raccoon from the truck earlier. He knew it was some sort of a switch, now he just needed to figure out how the middle part of the trick was done; the part where the audience member turns into an animal in front of everyone.
“I will need a volunteer,” He heard the magician call out, followed by cheers from the audience. Hands shot into the air. Sam looked up at the man, who looked back at him and smiled. “You,” the magician pointed at Sam, “why don’t you come up here.”
Sam stood up, and nearly collapsed, his heart was beating faster than ever before. He made his way to the side of the stage and walked up the stairs. As he made it to the magician, the man put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “And your name, young man?”
“Sam,” the boy breathed heavily, “Sam Evans.”
“No need to be nervous, I’m the one doing the magic,” the man smiled and the audience chuckled. Sam calmed down a little as one of the assistants walked him to the box. She helped him climb in. The boy was on his hands and knees, giving the audience a side view of his body.
“Don’t worry, folks,” the magician announced, “he’ll have plenty more room in a few seconds.” The man looked back at Sam, a huge smile on his face. Sam smiled back as the lights dimmed. David Edwards continued to speak to the audience, but Sam couldn’t hear him. A sound did hit his ears, scratching. He looked around and saw something move on the other side of the curtain.
Sam squinted for a few seconds before he was able to make out the form of a raccoon on the other side of the back curtain. The trick was definitely starting to come together. The magician turned back towards the box, “Are you ready, Sam?”
Sam nodded and the assistant closed the box, sealing the boy inside. The magician took out a wand and tapped the box three times. The man and his assistant stepped back from the box to give the audience a better view of what was about to happen.
Sam looked around from his limited vantage point, waiting for the lighting to change or a trapdoor to open, but nothing seemed to be happening. After nearly a minute of waiting, Sam realized the box was getting a little warm. He wondered if the trick wasn’t working. Sam turned his head to look behind him and felt something brush against the side of the box, near his face.
He turned his head back the other way and felt something brush both sides of the box. Looking down his face, he was able to see what looked like hairs. He put a hand to his face, feeling the objects now protruding from his upper lip.
“Whiskers,” he said to himself. A tingle traveled through his hands, like when circulation is cut off, and they darkened, first to gray, then to black. His finger nails grew out into little claws.
“How?” he asked, knowing nobody could hear him. He felt a tingle in his neck, followed by small pinpricks of pain. He felt something push up against his shirt. The tingle traveled down his back, igniting centers of pinpricks as it moved. The pain traveled out from each spot, moving across his back until it reached his sides.
The tingle reached the base of his spine and continued to move. Sam felt it push its way out against his pants. He was growing a tail. He couldn’t explain how this was possible, but as the seat of his pants gave way and he felt the tingle continue to move out, he knew it was happening.
The boy looked at the tail now touching the glass behind him. His clothes were loose on him. His watch fell down his shrinking wrist as fur appeared from his sleeves, moving down.
Sam could barely make out his reflection in the box, but was able to watch as black fur grew in around his eyes, moving out across his cheeks. His ears felt like they were burning. They twitched as they reformed and moved up his head, turning the hair they touched into fur as they moved.
The pinpricks were now crossing his chest and stomach. The boy looked down his shirt collar as gray fur grew in. His pants slid down his legs as his feet came out of his shoes and socks. The boy’s feet had turned black, much like his hands. His legs were now covered in a thick coat of gray fur.
He was now standing, comfortably, on hind-legs. The fur continued to get thicker, and Sam felt his nose ache slightly as his face pushed out into a muzzle. His shirt was becoming twisted around his shrinking body and expanding fur, and he instinctively twitched around to free himself of it.
Sam shook himself as the pain and the tingling subsided. He was a raccoon. He looked himself up and down, trying to figure out how it had been done. He knew there had to be a trick somewhere, but there was no way anyone could fake what just happened.
The box opened, and the assistant pulled Sam out and held him up for the audience. He still felt a little numb, but was able to hear the applause from the audience. His ears turned towards the sound, and his tail gave a little wag; he kind of liked the attention.
The assistant lowered him and ran a hand through the fur that used to be his hair as the magician spoke to the audience, “cute, isn’t he?” Sam agreed; he felt cute.
“Unfortunately, we can’t leave our young friend like this; his mom would have our heads.” The audience laughed again as the assistant put the boy back in the box and closed it.
The theater went dark, and Sam felt the box rotate. The lights came back up, and Sam realized he was now facing the back curtain. Still disoriented from his change, he was only able to watch the silhouette on the curtain as the raccoon that was sharing the box with him shook.
As he watched, the silhouette grew and changed. The tail receded into the raccoon’s body, and the fur thinned out. As the legs grew longer, a pair of pants appeared on them as the fur left them uncovered. Sam noticed the pants in his side of the box, his pants, had vanished.
Sam sat, shocked, as the raccoon’s upper body grew out and lost its fur. Sam watched as his shirt disappeared from his side and reappeared on the former raccoon.
His shoes, socks, and even his watch vanished and then reappeared on his doppelganger.
The changes stopped, and the assistant helped the former raccoon out of the box. Sam heard the magician speak, “ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for Sam Evans.”
The audience cheered, the magician took his final bow and the house lights came up. Sam was surprised when the box started moving. The assistant pushed him backstage, where the magician took him from the cage and carried him into the dressing room with him.
David Edwards set Sam down on his desk and than took a seat. Sam looked around for a few moments, not sure what was about to happen.
“Well,” the man said, folding his hands on the desk, “can you still talk?”
“Yes,” Sam replied reflexively.
“What’s your name?”
“Sam Evans,” Sam wondered where the man was going with this.
“How old are you?” The magician seemed to have a little irritation in his voice.
“Fourteen.”
The man let out a sigh, “what color is your hair?”
“Gray.”
The answer made the magician smile, “good, it’s already started.”
“What has, what’s going on? Why did you turn that raccoon into me?”
The man stared at the raccoon silently for a few seconds before answering, “I guess it will pass the time. You see, my furry friend, I turned that raccoon into you so I can rob you and your family.”
Sam didn’t quite understand the answer, and the magician could tell.
“You see, that raccoon dressed as you will go back to your house tonight, take everything of value, and bring it back to me in the next few days. The spell lasts a hundred hours, and then he will change back.”
“That’s when you’ll turn me into a human again?” Sam asked hopefully.
“Do you think I would be telling you this if I planned to let you go?”
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
“Oh, I can do better than your word.”
Sam didn’t understand what that meant either, but he was getting really worried. The magician was planning something, and it scared him.
“Still remember how old you are?”
Sam looked at the man, thinking about the question. He knew the magician was up to something, but he couldn’t figure out what. After about a minute, the magician asked again, “How old are you?”
“I’m a yearling, about a year and four months,” Sam answered.
“Perfect, you’re doing well, my friend. You’ll make a fine pet.”
“A pet? I don’t want to be a pet.”
“Would you rather I release you into the wild? It’s Spring and I’m sure you could find a nice yearling female raccoon.”
The thought of being with a female raccoon made him feel queasy, but he wasn’t sure why. He looked up at the magician, “I don’t want to be a raccoon. I want you to turn me back.”
“Turn you back?” The magician smiled, “turn you back into what?”
“A,” Sam stopped, for the life of him he couldn’t remember what the name of the thing was. He knew what it was. He had a picture in his mind of the creature; tall and walking on two legs. He knew the magician was one and that he was one before he was turned into raccoon. He was beginning to get scared; he realized he was losing his memory. He let out a cry of terror.
“Do you still remember your name?” the magician asked calmly.
Sam didn’t bother to answer, he realized what was happening. The magician was waiting for him to lose his mind and become his little pet. He had to keep his thoughts clear. “I am Sam,” he stopped for a moment, fear in his voice, “I am Sam…”
He couldn’t remember his last name. It was almost like he never had one. He couldn’t even think of anything similar to it. He was losing himself.
“You see,” the man said, “in a couple of minutes, you won’t even remember your first name, then your human speech will go. I can get a good price for smart, young, raccoon like you.”
“I thought,” the raccoon gasped, “you liked me.”
“I do, cub, that’s why I’m selling you to a family to be a pet instead of to a fur trader to be a hat.”
The raccoon’s heart was racing. He knew he had heard the words before, but he had no idea what ‘pet’, ‘trader’, or ‘hat’ meant. He wasn’t even sure where he had heard the words.
“You still remember your name?”
The raccoon searched its mind frantically for what his name was. He still had some memories, like faded images. He remembered not being a raccoon, but he couldn’t remember what it looked like. It was far away now, and it was slipping further, slowly fading to black.
“That’s alright, I’m sure your owners will give you a good raccoon name.” The man picked the raccoon up by the scruff of the neck and placed him in a nearby cage. The animal let out a few cries that sounded like words, but nothing intelligible, at least to human ears.
“I don’t know if you still understand me, but I’m gonna let you in on a secret. I’ve been doing this for ten years now. I’m going to do it twice more before I leave this town. I’ve never even been suspected of committing robbery. I make money off the suckers who become animals that I sell for more money,” the man looked down at the young animal that had now curled up and closed its eyes.
Before the little raccoon let sleep take him, he heard the man say one more thing, although he didn’t understand it, “do something they think is impossible and you’ll never get caught; that, cub, is the trick.”