Love the Magician: Meeting

Part 1

by Vaughan




Mark thought to himself what a wonderful sister Cathy was. She had been assisting him in his magic act for the three years he had been professional and for the four years before that. He knew that she had effectively put her life on hold so that he had an assistant for the show. He also felt guilty about it. He loved his sister, who was also his companion, confidante and professional partner. He knew she was torn between her loyalty to him and her desire to experience what life had to offer. He had also noticed that she was trying to get him into a relationship at every opportunity. He
marveled at her knowledge of his taste in women. Occasionally he would wonder if she was a lesbian, because she had never had a boyfriend and seemed to be able to select the most beautiful women to help with the audience participation sections of the show. He usually dismissed this thought in
favor of the idea that she was just doing what was best for the show.

Mark came out of his reverie as Cathy stepped back on stage with the two last volunteers for the night. The first one was very tall and slender and wore a white flowing dress with a scoop neck exposing
up-thrust cleavage, her face showed enthusiasm, she seemed to be confident in a "I'm glad I was chosen" sort of way. The other one was about two inches shorter than the first but probably weighed exactly the same, she was wearing a short black dress that showed her shapely calves and hinted at knees that were not knobbly in any way. Her shoulders were uncovered except for the narrow straps that held up her dress. She had the
demeanor of someone who had been volunteered, but was determined to make the best of it, despite her terror, and punish the person who had volunteered her later.

Cathy guided the two young women to either side of him, the taller one on his right, the shorter one on his left.

Turning to the taller of the two, he asked her name.

"My name is Charity DuBois and I'm a model," she answered in a voice that seemed to imply that she expected people to be impressed.

"And your name?" Mark said turning to the other woman.

"I'm Sarah." she said shortly as if she was ashamed of her name.


"And what do you do, Sarah?"

"I'm a secretary," she answered, in a voice that said she wished she had a more exotic job.

"A round of applause for my two lovely volunteers, Charity and Sarah!" called Mark.

While the audience clapped its appreciation of the audience members on stage, Mark told them to relax and enjoy what followed. The clapping faded.

"I am going to perform a card trick, which for the benefit of the people who are not close enough will be displayed on the video wall behind us, filmed from a single video camera." The video wall suddenly showed an image of the three people standing on stage from the waist up. It was clear that the pictures were live because the movements of the images
synchronized with the movements of the people which would be impossible to achieve by any technical trickery.

"For a card trick I need some cards," he said drawing a packet out of his pocket. "I think these will do." He slid the cards from the packet and returned it to his pocket. He casually shuffled the pack and asked Sarah and Charity if they knew about cards.

"Yes, I know cards," stated Charity, "Me and some of my modeling friends play poker when ever we can. I usually win."

"And you Sarah?" said Mark, offering her the chance to say something.

"Um... I play patience."

"Good. so you both know the cards are divided into four suits, and have various values from ace to king. Fortunately, it would not have mattered whether you knew that or not, because the values and the suits of the cards do not matter for this trick. You can both count?" he enquired impishly.

Both woman nodded. "Good. I'll be testing that." He fanned the cards with magicianly dexterity and showed the audience, Charity and Sarah that the cards were normal and well shuffled.

"Now, Sarah, I want you to deal ten cards, face down onto my palm, then hand the rest of the cards to Charity." He squared off the deck and handed them to Sarah. Once Mark had opened his palms flat, Sarah placed ten cards, one at a time, face down on his palm, then handed off the cards to Charity. Sarah and Mark counted them as they were laid on his open hand. Mark squared up the cards as if it were habit and in the process palmed three of them. The thin stack of pasteboard rectangles he placed in Sarah's open hand.

"At this point, Sarah, I want you keep these ten cards safe, where no-one can get at them. I usually suggest somewhere inside your clothes." As he had thought she would, she had second thoughts before tucking them inside the top of dress against her left breast. He also notice that in the process she took a glance at the bottom card of the stack.

"I've got an intelligent one here," thought Mark, "she thinks she has an idea how this trick works, but I think she is worth surprising."

He said, "Are you happy that nobody could creep up on you and take any of your cards?"

"Not without me knowing," replied Sarah.

"All right, You guard your cards!" He turned to Charity and had her count ten cards onto his hand. She did this slowly and he had time to add the three cards he had taken from Sarah's stack. He had her square the cards and hide them about her person. As he had anticipated she was not the least bit shy about inserting the augmented pile of cards inside her bra. The remaining cards he returned to his jacket pocket.

"Now everyone knows that most magicians do cards tricks, but it is not commonly known why. Well, I'll let you into a secret." Mark took a conspiratorial look round to see that her was not observed. This drew a small laugh from some audience members. "The reason magicians do card tricks is because every magician worth his salt can make cards go invisible. Once a card is invisible, you can do whatever you like with it; no-one will notice." Another titter ran round the audience. "I can hear that I have some
skeptical souls in this auditorium, so I shall prove it by transferring some cards from Sarah to Charity. Of course you won't see anything happen, because the cards will be invisible, but none the less, I will do it."

He turned to Sarah and asked, "Are your ten cards safe?"

Sarah was feeling nervous, so she nodded, then realizing that she should speak said, "Yes."

"So, if I were to take one, you would notice."

She nodded and said, "Yes," again.

He made a grabbing motion close to her chest and surprised she took half a backward step.

"Did you feel anything happen?" he asked Sarah, holding before him an imaginary card between thumb and forefinger.

Sarah was a bit unsure what she was supposed to say, so she said, "I'm not sure, that movement caught me by surprise."

Mark was moderately pleased that Sarah had not said she felt nothing.

"And what have I got in my hand?" he asked Charity.

"I suppose it's supposed to be an invisible card, but I can't see it," she answered with a glibness of tone that indicated that she had heard the line somewhere else and had spotted a chance to use it. A few giggles rose from the audience.

"I'm so glad you said that, because it saved me the embarrassment of saying it myself." Another laugh from the audience. "Well, brace yourself. I'm going to add it to your set of cards." He mimed inserting card and smiled. A few scattered applause rustled through the auditorium. Mark look surprised, but gratified.

"I think it is time to move a second card. Are you ready this time, Sarah?"

"I suppose so," she replied, "but could you be a bit more gentle and not so sudden. You made me jump last time."

"Concentrate on what I am doing," instructed Mark as he concentrated on really turning the card, that Sarah had glanced at, invisible. With further concentration he moved the now invisible card out from under the stack until its edge would have been visible.

"I think I felt something that time," said Sarah in an awed whisper, which was picked up by Mark's microphone. A whisper went round the audience.

"Well, I had to move the card into a position so that I could get hold of the edge," Mark explained and not a single person in that hall, not even his sister assistant, Cathy, believed him. Mark took hold of the edge of the invisible card and drew the rest of it from the edge of Sarah's neckline.

"I definitely felt that," exclaimed Sarah.

"That's all right, you were meant to." He held up the invisible card for all to see, but of course no-one noticed. Mark had a thought to put to use the fact he really had an invisible card, that would look like he was doing a throw away trick. He carefully moved it so that he held it between the tip of his thumb at one end and the tips of three fingers at the other. He squeezed until the card bowed outward slightly and then he flicked it with the forefinger of the other hand, the noise it made was picked up by microphone on Mark's lapel and relayed to everyone, who gave a round of scattered applause. He returned the card to his fingertips and inserted it carefully between the cards against Charity's breast. "Ok, Charity, It's your turn to do some concentrating." Mark concentrated some more to make the card he had just transferred visible again and make the top card invisible before withdrawing it. This invisible card he palmed. Mark returned his attention to Sarah.

Charity looked disappointed at not having felt anything and was thinking of a way to say this that did not sound gratuitous. She comforted herself that there was another card to come.

"OK, Sarah, it's time to concentrate again. I'm going to take one last card from your stack." Deliberately, but appearing to be clumsy for a moment, Mark lurched forward inserting the invisible card and then made some show of taking a last card, which he only mimed. The concentration was to return the transferred card to visibility. Sarah had let out a squeak of surprise, but had made no objection to his hand momentarily resting on her chest.

Miming having another invisible card, Mark appeared to take great care adding this last card to the stack inside Charity's bra. Charity seemed a bit disappointed that he did not appear interested in accidentally brushing her chest. Mark was thinking that Charity would probably object to all, but the most fleeting touch.

"Now, I have transferred three cards from Sarah's set of cards to Charity's. If I was playing this effect for laughs I would now return the cards to Sarah's stack before getting them to check the cards." He made a movement that suggested that he might be about to do exactly that, but stopped and smiled broadly. A polite laugh came from the on-lookers.

"Sarah, would you get out your cards and count them face up on to my open palm, please."

Sarah took a few seconds extracting the small pile of cards from inside the top of her dress and squaring them up. The stack had got a little untidy, while stowed in her dress, but she put this down the violent movements she had made when Mark had lurched at her. Having squared up the cards, she turned them face up and was a bit surprised that the eight of hearts that she had glimpsed before put the cards against her breast was not the top card. With care not to mis-count, Sarah counted the seven cards onto Mark's hand. The eight of hearts did not appear and Sarah's face showed the wonder of having the impossible thing, she expected to happen, happen, but also that something was puzzling her.

"You look perplexed," said Mark. "What is it?"

"Um, I could have sworn that I had an eight of hearts in my pile, I, sort of, took a peak at the bottom card before I hid them away," she admitted.

"Maybe, that was one of the cards I moved to Charity's pile."

He turned to Charity and asked her to count out her cards. She took out the cards and straightened them. With care intended to prevent her being made a fool of Charity counted her cards onto Mark's open hand. The thirteenth and last card to be placed on the accumulating pile was eight of hearts. The crowd applauded with gusto. Charity was slightly surprised, but Sarah was astounded and their faces showed this.

The curtains swept closed behind the trio on stage. Mark leant over to Sarah and asked if she would mind helping him with his next trick. She nodded that she would like that.

Cathy emerged from the edge of the curtain and stood beside her brother.

As the clapping subsided, Mark called for a round of applause for Charity as she returned to her seat. Taking this as a cue, Cathy guided Charity to the steps leading from the stage into the auditorium, then she went back into the wings to pick up the props for the next illusion.

On the fore stage, Mark was talking to Sarah, partly to calm her, partly to give the audience something to watch until Cathy gave that signal that she was ready. Mark discovered that Sarah worked as the secretary to the manager of a small chain of hardware stores, was single and waiting for
Mr. Right to come along, and that she had come to the show with boss's pregnant wife because he could not come. Mark could tell that after the terror of being on stage, Sarah was becoming more comfortable, but still with that edge of nervousness. It was also obvious from her responses that she found her job humdrum, but it was the only way she knew to make a living. She desired a more glamorous occupation and would probably talk about her experience on this stage for several months to come.

Cathy gave the signal from the edge of the stage, and Mark began the presentation of next effect.

"I suppose being in the hardware business, you know something about knives and how dangerous they can be."

Sarah nodded. She did not have much to do with the actual hardware, but everyone knew that knives could be dangerous.

"So you think a knife like this is dangerous?" asked Mark indicating the sword that Cathy had just brought on stage. The sword was an elegant and authentic Japanese samurai sword, of good quality and elegant design. This three foot long sword was actually about two hundred years old, but Mark did not tell anyone this. "This knife is actually a genuine Japanese sword and I keep it very sharp, because a sharp blade does less damage than a blunt blade. But a sword as sharp as this one still does some damage and therefore presents a danger." He explained, taking the sword from Cathy and offer the blade to Sarah to test.

Sarah ran her thumb up and along the edge of the blade. She quickly drew it away exclaiming that it was very sharp.

"Because I have such a sharp sword, I had to invent a way of keeping anyone from hurting themselves with it. So I came up with a holder for it." Cathy brought in a piece of lacquered wood about two feet long, half an inch thick and two inches wide with a handle one side, from the other side, at each end, stuck two round pieces of wood, just over two feet long and an inch and a half in diameter. In the ends there were two small rectangular holes lined with metal. Cathy handed this frame to Mark and withdrew again. "This is the holder," he said and handed it to Sarah. She inspected it casually and found nothing amiss, but noticed and pointed out a hole through the end of one of the side pieces the intersected the metal lined hole. "I'm glad you noticed that. It's for the padlock, because a safety device is no good if any Tom, Dick or Harry can come along and undo your work of making things safe."

Sarah nodded agreement and began to worry about where all this patter about sharp swords was leading. She felt a bit as though she were between the devil and deep blue sea, in that she would be extremely embarrassed at this point to leave the stage and disappoint the audience, but staying on stage seemed to involve sharp swords, which made her very uncomfortable.

Mark noticed Sarah's increased nervousness and said, "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'I wish he would stop waving that sword about so casually, someone will get hurt if he's not careful.'"

Sarah nodded, in the hope that a nod was enough. Observing her continued expression of fear, Mark decided not to insist on an answer. Instead he went on with his patter.

"You will have noticed that there is a hole in the base of the blade." This he showed to the audience. He knew that from the collectors' point of view putting a hole in the sword was sacrilege. "That is so that when the sword is fitted to the frame it can not be taken out, because there will be a padlock through the holes." On cue Cathy reappeared holding up a padlock.

"If you would be so kind as to hold the frame steady for me, I shall put it in."

Sarah held frame by the handle at arms length from her body and pointing downward, in the hope that the sword would come no closer to her than necessary.

With practiced dexterity, Mark fed the sword through the first hole and then the second. He let go of the sword and took the padlock from his assistant. The padlock slid into place with only the smallest jiggle to get the holes into line.

Sarah was left holding the frame with sword padlocked into it, but with six inches of blade stick out of either side. It did not look much safer, because the only parts of the sword that were covered were the bits that went through the frame.

Cathy had returned to the wings. "What do you think?" Mark asked, taking the frame from Sarah.

"Well, to be honest, it doesn't look much safer, to me. Most of the blade is still exposed," commented Sarah. She hoped he would not be disappointed by her answer.

Mark was far from disappointed, it was just the answer he wanted. It saved him the effort (and sometimes it was a real effort) of extracting that answer. His patter continued, "That's because I haven't shown you the rest of the equipment."

Again Cathy came from the wings. This time she was carrying a sturdy looking set of stocks on there own stand. These she placed in the middle of the stage before returning to the wings.

"That's the rest of it. I slide the sword in the top and it can not hurt anyone. Don't you agree, Sarah?" he asked, suddenly.

Taken unawares, Sarah extemporized with an "I suppose so."

Mark deftly fitted the frame sword first into the top of the stocks and lowered it in until the sword could be seen in the hole. He then lowered it until the handle of the frame rested on top of the stocks, in this position the whole sword was visible below the stocks. Mark removed the sword frame and carefully rested it flat on the stage.

Sarah was terrified, but having stuck here this far she felt she would be damned if she was going to chicken out now. Despite her certainty that all this was leading up to her neck being put in the stocks and having the sword passed through it, she nursed the faint hope that the neck destined for those stocks was, the assistant, Cathy's.

As Mark opened the stocks that hope faded, because Cathy was not anywhere visible on stage.

"I would like you to examine this extra special safety feature. It allows you to check that the sword remains sharp without any danger of being cut and it is slightly padded for comfort," Mark enthused.

Sarah reached out a trembling hand and touched the padding inside of the semicircle of the lower stock. It was padded with suede, which was clean and soft. Sarah's feeling were getting more and more confused as they raced round inside her mind. First there were the competing terrors of staying and going. If she stayed what would happen to her, would she be killed, maimed, hurt or, perhaps worse, severely embarrassed and laughed at. If she tried to leave would they force her to do whatever it was against her will or would she be allowed to go and be branded a coward by all who knew her. Dodging between the rampaging terrors was a small but powerful feeling this would be her last chance to do sometime exciting in her life; if she refused to take part, the prospect of a life composed entirely of typing up memos and confirming orders, and lonely unfulfilled nights in her small apartment stretched before her. This could be a turning point in her life and she felt if she made the wrong decision her life, if there was any, would not really be worth living. It all hinged on whether she stayed here and took what was coming with what little fortitude she could gather, or should she thank the magician for an interesting time and return to her seat. At this point a further fear was added to the cocktail of swirling emotions, what if she could not find her way off the stage? The brightness of the lights made it impossible to see beyond the front edge of the stage, which while it had the merciful effect of insulating you from the audience, it also meant that Sarah could not make a break for the steps to the auditorium for fear she would fall off the edge of the stage and injure more than her pride.

Sarah had paused for more than half a minute with a shaky hand rested in the indent in the stocks lower half. The audience was beginning to get restless, because internal debate is not the most visually stimulating thing to watch. Mark was concerned to get the show moving again, but he did not want to lose his volunteer, because if he did, he would have to do the trick on Cathy and that would lessen the impact of the final illusion. Mark knew that if he retrieved the situation he would have a show that people would rave about for weeks.

Mark reached out a hand and placed a finger under Sarah's chin. He applied a little upward pressure and use this to raise and turn her head until they were looking directly at each other. Mark looked into green eyes and saw that she was in turmoil. So, he knew that the next few moments would be make or break. Her lips were turned into worried frown, which was reflected in her forehead.

Sarah looked into the magician's face, at his strong, but kind features showing concern and his soft brown eyes twinkling with the power of magic and danger. Sarah took a moment's pause from the frantic emotions cascading through her head, to think, "I think I could love a man like this. He is strong, handsome and does an exciting and glamorous job that I might be able to be involved in. But he has his assistant." She blushed.

Mark noticed the blush and thought, he could quite easily fall for a pretty woman with character that Sarah was showing.

Mark broke the ten seconds that they had spent staring into each other's faces by asking, "Do you trust me?"

Sarah's mind exploded with contradictions. You can not trust a magician he is constantly trying to trick you. But you can trust a man whose career would be finished if he harmed a single hair on your head. But you can not really trust someone you have only just met. But he looked so gentle and trustworthy. Positive and negative points of view piled into brain turning the confusion of terror into the confusion of indecision. Seeing the slight change in Sarah's
demeanor Mark smiled and this smile was the one thing that gave Sarah the courage to say, "Yes."

The decision to trust Mark made and vocalized, Sarah's terrors evaporated. She knew she would have to stay on stage and finish what she had started. She became resigned to her fate, whatever that might be. Her emotional state was much lighter, with the excitement of being involved in a glamorous enterprise and the mild anxiety of what she supposed would happen and the wondering what it would be like. Sarah's posture relaxed.

Mark could detect the tell-tale atmosphere of the audience losing interest. He knew he had to move the action along before he lost them entirely.

"Ok," he said positively, mainly to recapture the wandering audience attention. "Sarah, maybe you would like to examine the equipment more closely." This was Cathy's cue to bring on a cushion.

The cushion was plumped and positioned behind the stocks. While Cathy retreated back to the wings, Mark guided Sarah to kneel on the cushion. She made some show of examining the stocks from her lower position.

"Why don't you check the front of the device?" Mark suggested. Sarah made a movement to get up, but Mark placed a hand on her shoulder and indicated that she should look over the top. She leaned over the top of the lower half of the stock, to look down the front of the stocks while was plain painted wood, they was something written at the bottom edge. Sarah strained forward and down until she could nearly read it. She felt her neck make contact with the padding in the lower stock and thought for a moment that this would be the moment that someone untrustworthy would fit the upper stock, on the other hand if he did fit the upper stock it would be too late. She rested her neck in place
realizing it was too late either way. Using the invaluable skill of reading upside-down she read the words, "Property of Mark Turner." She felt slightly let down that it did not say anything witty or mystical, but it made her one of the few people in the theatre who knew Mark's full name.

"Are you comfortable, down there?" asked Mark.

Sarah turned her head without raising it from the stock and said, "Yes, Thank, you." She discovered that she was right because her hands had naturally found the handles on the legs of the stocks, so she was not rest her weight on her neck. "I suppose you want to put the top half back on," she commented

"If you don't mind. What better way to prove that this is perfectly safe."

Sarah nodded and turned her face back towards the floor. She felt the padding of the upper stock close round the back of her neck, which forced her to hold her head up a bit more, so that instead of looking straight down, she was looking at the stage about a foot from the edge. Mark took care to remove the strands of hair that had got caught between the two halves of the stocks and between the padding and her neck. While Sarah wondered what foolhardy decisions had got her into this perilous predicament, Mark finished arranging Sarah's hair and then picked up the frame with the sword.

The audience hushed as Mark inserted the frame, once again, sword first into the top of the frame.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah tremulously.

"I'm going to show you that this device is perfectly safe. You may remember I said that the hole allow you to check that the sword remains sharp without any danger of being cut. I think it's about time I tested that and you are in the perfect position to be the vict.. erm.. person to help me try it."

"But...! I thought you had done this before!" commented Sarah, her renewed panic enhanced by Cathy bringing on a blood-stained basket and placing it in front of the stocks.

Sarah looked down into the basket and shrieked when she saw a head. Mark took the sword back out of the stocks and reached into the basket. The thing Mark lifted to show the audience could be mistaken for a human head for no more than five seconds, and immediately identifiable as a pink painted
papier-maché ball with some brown fur stuck on. He threw it to Cathy as she left the stage.

"I'm sorry about that," Mark apologized, "Cathy's little joke." He re-inserted the sword and gently lowered it into the stocks. As it seemed that the sword was about to touch the back of Sarah's neck, he slowed down and told Sarah to say when she felt the sword. Moments later she emitted a squeak and Mark stopped.

"Can you feel the sword?" he asked.

"Yes, and it still feels sharp," replied Sarah.

"Good," he remarked, "That's the first part proved, she can feel that the sword remains sharp. Now for the second part the safe from cutting bit." Mark lifted the frame about an inch and then slammed the frame down through the stocks.

Sarah felt the edge of the sword lift from her neck and was relieved for a moment. The next moment she felt the edge of the sword touch the back of her neck and from the sound it was obviously carrying on down. In the instant after the sword made contact, she tried to take a breath to scream but found she could not and the whole of her neck was numb. The sound of the frame handle stopping on the top of the stocks coincided with the appearance of the sword, whole but unbloodied in the bottom of Sarah's vision.

Sarah's thoughts danced through her mind as if there was a dead-line, which for a moment she thought there was. Among her thoughts were 'the bastard did it, I'm dead', 'It's a bit of a surprise that it doesn't hurt', 'I can't breathe' and 'At least there will be witnesses to my murder'.

Three slow seconds ticked by when no-one in the audience dared to draw a breath, then it became evident that Sarah's head was not going to drop into the blood-stained basket. By the time Sarah had also
realized that her head had not been severed from her body, most of the on-lookers had
realized and where applauding.

As the audience quieted down, Mark asked Sarah how she was.

Sarah sudden realized she had been holding her breath and breathed out. "I don't think I'm dead."

"I suppose you would like me to release you," Mark offered.

"Yes, please! It's not really all that comfortable down here."

Mark began to dismantle the upper stock. "How did it feel?"

Sarah was slightly surprised that he asked, because she thought he should know. Despite this she replied, "It all happened it so fast, really. I remember feeling the sword touch the back of my neck and then for a moment I could not breathe. After that I'm not sure, until I calmed down and
realized that I still had a head."

"Would you like to get up now," offered Mark, taking hold of her arm. She made a sudden move to rise, but he resisted it and said, "Gently does it! We don't want to cause any complications, do we?"

"Complications?!" Sarah exclaimed, "What complica..." She stopped speaking when she felt something hard against the back of her neck.

There was a collective intake of breath.

Mark continued to help Sarah into a vertical position, with the handle of the sword frame behind her neck, thus drawing the sword back up out of the lower stock. When she was completely stood up the sword frame was out of the stocks and hanging round her neck. Mark took hold of the sword frame then carefully lifted it from round Sarah's neck. He handed the sword frame to Cathy who left the stage while Mark took his applause. Sarah stood there dazed, but relieved to still have her head on her shoulders.

Cathy returned and took away the stocks under one arm and the basket with the cushion stuffed into it under the other.

As the rapture faded from the applause, Sarah made a move to leave the stage, but Mark had a hold on her arm that prevented her leaving.

Mark addressed the audience, which hushed before he had utter his fifth syllable. "The illusion you just witnessed is generally referred to as the head chopper and is an old stand-by of the stage magician. Would you like to know how it works?"

There was a mixed response from the audience, but it seemed that the majority were in
favor of knowing.

Continued in part 2...