The workout room was a good place for rehearsing: it was spacious and well-lit, with a clearing on one of the short sides, plus the walls were covered in mirrors so you could get feedback even when nobody was around to proof-watch. The mirror images made Tom feel like he was surrounded by couples in a ballroom as he danced with his mother Bonnie. Tom didn't like to dance any more than your average little boy does, but it was part of the magic trick so he sucked it up. At least it wasn't a sissy dance. It had something to it, something dark and tribal, that Tom thought set the mood right. Like the prelude to some kind of evil ritual.

The boy was pretty excited about the trick. He had assisted in his parent's show for three years already, but that was to be his first time doing something more than just handing out tools and moving props around. This time, Tom would get to be the star. The show was a simple one-nighter down in Tampa: a rich couple was having an Arabian Nights wedding and they wanted their flying carpets and stuff. It was going to be a throwback to the days when mom and dad were a small-time duo, performing at birthday parties in gaudy costumes.

Speaking of which... the costumes! Ugh!

If there was something that Tom liked less than the dance breaks, it was those stupid costumes. He felt ridiculously ridiculous, bare-chested as he was in his sleeveless jacket and baggy trousers. Mom's get-up was a golden bra that tinkled with chains and pendants at her every move, matched to a long skirt with open sides. Even in her forties she made for a believable harem dancer, at least she looked it more than Tom looked like an Arabian bandit, what with his pale skin and his blond buzz-cut hair.

The drums stopped, abruptly, leaving a solo instrument to drone its monotonous melody in the air, over and over. Tom wondered, as he always did at that point, what kind of instrument could produce that sound. He couldn't even tell whether it was stringed or wind. If mosquitoes could be trained to sing, he thought, that was probably what they would sound like.

Anyway, the dance was over and now came the hard part. Mother and son sat down on the floor, locked their hands together and pressed their feet against each other's. Moving like a single rigid body, they rotated so that Bonnie was on her back, and her four limbs served as supports for Tom to balance himself on top of her.

The young boy gazed with admiration at his mother's abs. Dad might have been twice as big, but his chances in a hypothetical wrestle with mom were not so good.

Focus, Tom. Focus.

The boy disengaged his right foot and stretched his leg behind him. Then he lifted his left arm, too. He checked in the closest mirror: so far, it looked like just a mild acrobatic feat. Tom imagined the sounds of the audience as he lifted his other leg: his whole body now stood at a right angle with his arm, like a windsock stretching out from its pole. It was unbelievable, and it didn't get any more believable as Tom lifted his last limb and still refused to obey gravity, still stood up there, weightless, without any connection to the ground.

Bonnie waved her arms in the air. Maybe she was magically holding her boy up, or maybe she was proving that there were no invisible supports under him.

"Too tense," she said over the music. "Relax."

"I'm trying."

"Then try harder."

Tom couldn't help feeling like he'd fall anytime, especially at the beginning of the trick. He called to mind what his mother had taught him. It was, she had said, like floating on your back in the water: if you were afraid of sinking, you'd sink. Tom tried not to think about sinking, and not about floating, either. To his surprise, the next thought in line turned out to be a girl. Charlene, aunt Ida's daughter.

Bonnie was now making wide outsweeping motions with her arms, like swimming frog style. Tom saw her shrink, and realized he was floating up away from her.

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"What's the worst thing ever went wrong on stage, in your life?"

Bonnie interrupted her gesticulating.

"Where's that come from?"

"Been on my mind, that's all."

Her son came slowly down like a half-deflated balloon, and she caught him on the soles of her feet.

"Ain't nothing can go wrong here, Tommy-boy. Worst case scenario, you fall down on me and we both get a bruise."

"I know. It's not about this trick. Sometimes I just wonder. Anything... unexpected ever happened to you? Or one of the girls maybe?"

Bonnie balanced the boy on one foot only, tapping with the other so as to give him a gentle spin.

"Well, there was this one time in Vegas, you were barely a toddler, where we found out just minutes before showtime that Jay-Jay had peed all over my outfit."

"The tiger? No way!"

"Yup."

"So what did you do?"

"I performed in the nude. What else?"

Tom was now spinning at a pretty high speed, but Bonnie could still make out his speechless gape. She laughed.

"Just kidding, you goof! You think I'd do that?"

"W-what did you do, then?"

"Heh. Nothing much I could do. I slipped it on and pretended everything was fine."

"You're kidding again."

"I'll never forget the smell. Although, the feel was probably even worse."

"Ugh! That is so gross!"

"I know! But, the show must go on, right?"

Bonnie blocked Tom on the tip of her toes, with his body crosswise with hers. Then, with a walking motion, she began to make him spin around his axis, kind of like a chicken on a rotating spit.

"So that was the worst thing ever? Really?"

"Oh my. It's starting to sound morbid, Tommy-boy."

"You don't have to hide anything from me, you know? I don't spook easily. Tell me about the serious stuff."

Bonnie sighed.

"Define serious."

"Like someone losing a limb to, say, the Bimbo Box or something."

The woman broke off. Tom continued spinning by inertia.

"Dear Lord! I'm sorry, Tom, nobody ever lost one single hair, okay? Anything like that happens I quit, I quit forever."

"Wait-wait-wait. I don't mean lost like, you know, really lost. But maybe, for just a second, maybe they couldn't move it? At least not the way they wanted? Or, I don't know, it wouldn't stick back on? Don't tell me it's always worked out smoothly!"

Bonnie half-sat up on her elbows. Her bra went clink-clank.

"Alright, there's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

"Huh? What... what do you mean?"

"You suck at playing dumb, don't you know? Come on, Thomas, don't make me angry. What are you up to? You wanna have a go at the Bimbo Box?"

"No-no-no. Well, actually I'd like to, but..."

"Oh my God, you've messed something up already, have you?"

"No!"

"Look, it's okay: you tell me everything now, I won't get mad. I promise."

"Will you calm down? I haven't messed with anything at all! It's just..."

"Yes?"

"It's Leenie."

"Charlene? What about her? What did you do to her?"

"Nothing! Nothing really, mom. Let me explain."

"I'm all ears."

Tom turned around and swam, clumsily, through the air until he could look his mother in the eye.

"Well, the thing is last summer, when you and dad were in China, I..."

"South-east Asia. South. East. Asia."

"That. So, I was trying stuff from my book and there was a trick I really liked. I wanted Leenie to help, but couldn't convince her. She was afraid something bad would happen to her legs, something like what I've told you before. Nothing I said would change her mind. And, well, she's even got me thinking a little. About this whole magic thing. Sometimes I wonder how safe it actually is. I mean, I've always taken it for granted 'cause..."

"Her legs, you said? What is it you wanted to do?"

"Basically just a sawing in half."

Bonnie frowned.

"But I thought your father told you, when he gave you the book, to skip all the parts with blades and such. Didn't he?"

"Ever tried giving someone a chocolate chip cookie, and then telling them to leave all the chocolate chips?"

The woman laughed despite herself. She lay back down, hands crossed under her head, one leg on her knee.

"How long you been holding onto that one?"

Just then, the music stopped. Tom scowled at the floorstanding speakers as if they had betrayed him.

"Shoot! We overtimed it."

"Mm-hmm. And guess whose fault that is?"

"I'm sorry."

Bonnie exhaled slowly, like a smoker blowing out.

"Listen up, Tom. Magic is safe. And I mean one hundred percent safe. I wouldn't let you take part in it if I thought otherwise. So please do stop fussing, and get those thoughts out of your head. Alright?"

"But..."

"On the other hand, you can't really blame Charlene. Even just a sawing in half could be pretty scary for a first-timer, I suppose."

"How do I talk her into it, then?"

"How about shelling out some bucks? It sure worked with me."

"You're saying I should pay her?"

"Nah, I was just messing with you again. I'm afraid there ain't much you can do. You don't force your will on others, Tommy-boy. It's not right."

"But mom..."

"I can be your assistant if you need one, what do you say? That is, when I have time and I'm in the mood."

Tom played the scene in his mind. He saw himself lay mom down on a sawbench and run the blade through her, then strut proudly between the two parted halves. Somehow, it looked weird. Lame. Like if dad had participated in his Yu-Gi-Oh! club.

"Well yeah, thank you mom, that'd be nice. Shame Leenie wouldn't do it, though. I think she'd rock as an assistant."

"I think so, too."

"Really?"

The boy was still levitating a few feet above his mother, but neither he nor she seemed to care much.

"You know what, maybe next time you guys get some time alone, why don't you go for something a little... milder?"

"Like what?"

"How about a quick change? Us girls do love trying on new clothes, you know."

"Changing clothes? Bor-r-ring!"

Bonnie chuckled.

"Well, if you're so dead-set on the perilous stuff, you could at least give her a little demo. Maybe that'll work, who knows."

"A little demo?"

"I'll tell you something. When your father first showed me to the Head Chopper, back in my trainee days, my first impulse was to cut and run. But then he tried it on another girl first, one Shauna, or Sheila, who had dumb blonde written all over her face, and I thought if she can do it, I can do it."

"Sounds great. Too bad I don't have any Shauna or Sheila at hand."

"You have yourself."

"Huh? What's that mean, I have myself?"

"Yeah, that's even better. Why don't you cut yourself in half and show her? Takes a little bit of practice, but what better proof than a first-hand demonstration?"

"B-but... but I'm a boy!"

"I'm well aware of that. So?"

"So? So how can I cut myself in half if I'm a boy?"

"Sweetie, I'm honestly not following you."

"Hello? You have to be a girl to be cut in half and stuff, right?"

"Are you serious?"

"No, are you serious?"

"Tom, I'm surprised at you. How can you say something as sexist as that? Did your father tell you that?"

"No-no-no-no, wait, wait a minute. When did you ever see a man do those things? Levitating, all right. Teleporting. But I don't remember you ever putting dad into a box and chopping him up, right? It's always the other way round."

Bonnie clicked her tongue.

"Oh, Tommy-boy, that's just what the audience want! How could you think it mattered whether it's a man or a woman? What difference could it possibly make?"

"What do I know! Magic isn't exactly logical, if you haven't noticed. Why does it work on people, but not on animals or things? Why is it harder if you keep your shoes on? Why do you need boxes for some tricks and not for others?"

"You know what, it's alright. I suppose it's my fault, too. We've never really talked about it, you and I. And I shouldn't count too much on your father."

Bonnie placed her hands on her boy's shoulders, and flipped him face up.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Making up for my shortcomings."

She curled her legs and double-kicked him in the back, launching him at the ceiling. The boy gave a gasp of surprise. Bonnie held up one leg, wrapping her hands under her thigh. The next second a not-so-weightless Tom fell down onto her pointing foot, which pierced him like a spearhead.

"Urgh!"

He curled up. His hands clawed at the air around his mother's leg, projecting from his belly like a rhino's horn from its snout. During the second that he held the pose, he saw that the foot was ostentatiously wiggling its toes. It wore teal nail polish, the same color as that tacky belly dancer's skirt.

Tom unflexed his arms and legs and let himself hang. His back naturally arched. His mother's face came into view, upside-down and so close to his own. She was sneering.

"W-what is this? Why..."

"This, Tommy-boy, is the principle of the Interlude. A prime example of role reversal, where a woman penetrates a man. Personally speaking, I love it. And you know what? I could just as easily do this..."

She grasped Tom by his arms and pushed her other leg through him. The boy bit his lip, determined not to be a sissy.

"... and now, if I were to spread my legs, I'd rip you in half like a rag doll."

Tom was panting. Deep inside his guts, muscles that he'd never had before coiled and tightened around his mother's knees.

"You gonna do that?"

Bonnie considered him blankly for a moment. Then she made a playful sound through her nose, and cocked her head to one side.

"Well, it depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On how you answer two simple questions. Are you ready?"

"W-what? What questions?"

"Number one: do you still think that just because you have a penis, you can't be magically cut to pieces?"

"I have a wha- oh, no! No, no, I... I stand corrected."

"Good. Number two, and think about this for a second: would you want me to do it?"

"Do what?"

"What I just said I could do."

"Oh."

A long silence. Tom closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. He reached for his mother's legs and began to stroke them up and down, feeling them all over like a blind man. He squeeze-rubbed her feet, which stood absolutely still and stiff.

Lastly, he dropped his hands.

"Yes. Go a-"

KR-RATCH!

A Velcro-like sound as Bonnie's thighs scissored open and Tom broke in two. He couldn't suppress a groan, which he more or less transformed into a "whoa." The two halves of his body drifted apart and tilted askew from each other, but didn't fall to the ground. He was zero-gravity again.

"There you go! Welcome to the club, Tommy-boy."

Bonnie rose to her feet and stretched, grimacing.

"Mama's very proud."

She strolled towards Tom's upper part and turned it to face her. The boy was gazing down at his own belly, what he had left of it, his hands exploring the ragged skin along the edge and the spongy, flesh-colored stuff that his body seemed to be filled with. It was quite unlike any other cut he had ever seen, including the one he had put into Charlene. Those had all been more or less neat. But this one? A heck of a mess.

"Aww, lookit that. Your first stump."

Bonnie pinched a flap of her son's skin and rubbed it between her fingers.

"Well? How's it feel?"

Tom's head snapped up. His eyes were wide.

"Freaking awesome, that's how! Holy cow! I'd never... I mean... Whoa!"

His mother gave him a closed-mouth giggle.

"And you're saying- Mom! You're saying all this time... all these years... I could have done stuff like this? Why no-one ever told me? What..."

"Now, now, don't go all overboard about it, Tommy-boy. I know how you feel. But you're still very young. Don't you think you can do it all on your own. Not yet."

Bonnie wasn't sure she was being listened to. Tom was twisting his head left and right, looking into the mirrors, admiring the scene from different angles.

"Are we gonna do this onstage?"

"I should say not, sweetie pie."

"Aw, please mom, please-please-please! This is, like, a hundred thousand times better than the regular finish!"

"Yeah, I know."

"Pleeease?"

Hands on hips, the woman sighed.

"Alright, look: I'll talk to your father."

"You're the best!"

"Wait, I can't promise anything, okay? He'll probably say that it's too graphic, and that will be it."

"Mom, if you can put a word in, I'll do anything! Tell dad I'll do anything. I just really love this so much!"

"My, my, who would've thought. And what about Charlene? You think I've helped improve your chances with her?"

"Pfft! I don't care anymore. She can go rot in that stupid library for all I care. Why would I wanna cut her in half, or anybody else, when I can be the one who gets cut?"

Bonnie smiled. A sly, little smile.

"That so? Well, well, well."

She nodded at the wall clock.

"Looks like we still have quite a bit of time, by the way."

"Good! Put me back together, so we can try it one more time."

Bonnie reached out and pulled Tom closer. She ran a hand up his naked, hairless chest.

"Yes, I could do that."

She formed her fingers into a shovel's blade and dug right into him.

"Or..."

Tom gasped as his mother's arm, cold and dry and knobbly, slipped into his chest and made its way up his cavity. His head first jerked back, then came right off as his neck exploded.

"... I could play around some more," said the woman, now talking to the palm of her own hand.