Extreme Magic Vignette: Flying under the Influence

The office party was going well in the usual haphazard way of office parties. The canteen staff were serving up drinks and buffet food and the DJ was keeping the area that had been cleared of tables full with people dancing. The two unusual things were a videographer and a small area in the corner where there were some large-ish boxes (about eighteen inch cubes) dressed as Christmas presents; shiny multi-coloured wrapping and broad ribbons. Nobody was paying any attention to the boxes, but a few were aware of the man with the video camera; some were moderating their behaviour, others were playing up to the camera.

Shortly before people were starting to think of going home, the DJ feel silent and handed over a microphone to a young man wearing a black T-shirt, black jeans and black trainers carrying a small back pack; his only concession to Christmas spirit was a picture of a sled pulled by reindeer on his top.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Terry. I'm a magician and some of you may have noticed me about doing small tricks for groups. Well, now it's time for something larger." This he said while he wander onto the emptying dance area. "For what I have planned I need a lady to volunteer."

There was a Brownian motion that rippled through the crowd of revellers; those that wanted to see what would unfold trying to get to the edge of the dance floor, those that thought that they might be volunteered trying to move back. After a minute the throng had organised themselves to see what was about to transpire. In the process a bewildered young woman ended up being the only person besides Terry in the cleared area.

Gently, Terry to her hand and drew her to the centre of attention. "Thank you for volunteering, and your name is ...?"

The young lady in her little black dress which reached mid-thigh looked a little unstable, probably the worse for a generous quantity of alcohol. "My name is Susan," she slurred, "What did I volunteer for? I don't remember volunteering." The spectators tittered, they already knew Susan, the office manager, as someone who liked to know what was going on and enjoyed a party; not two characteristics that always went well together.

"You volunteered to help me with a magic trick."

"Did I?"

Rather than tell an outright lie, Terry just nodded affirmatively. "Have we met before?"

"Well, yes. I was watching when that card end up under Annabel's bra strap. That was a good trick; I'd love to know how you did that, coz you never came within arms-length of her until she handed the card back."

"And do you know what is about to happen?"

"Not a clue. You said something about a magic trick, a larger one, but I haven't a clue what that is going to be. And you say I volunteered? I hope it isn't one of those ones where you cut people into bits. I don't think I'd like that."

"I promise that I won't cut you into pieces," Terry assured her. "Actually I plan to float you in the air."

"That sounds nicer," she said. "Do I get to lie down?"

"No, but I will need you to wear a bit of costume."

Susan seemed disappointed about not getting to lie down but she did seem to cheer up a bit when costume was mentioned. "Oh, costume; what costume?"

Now that he was confident that Susan would not try to escape, he put his backpack on the floor and reached in to it. "Well, for what I have in mind your dress is a bit short."

Susan reached for the hem of her dress, in case it had ridden up to indecent heights, and found it was just where she expected; she still gave it an experimental tug to ensure that it was no higher than it should be. "What's wrong with the length of my dress? It's perfectly decent."

"As dresses go, it is just right; it shows off yours legs very nicely. But for what I have planned, I need your legs covered."

As Terry pulled some fabric from his backpack, Susan felt the desire to ask 'Why?', but even in her alcohol-impaired state she knew that you don't ask that of a magician; you might get an answer you do not like.

"We'll use this bit of cloth as a sarong-type affair." He placed a corner in Susan's left hand and positioned it high on her hip, then he wrapped it round Susan twice and finally deftly knotted the two upper corners of the makeshift skirt so that it stayed in place. The bottom edge of the fabric reached the floor.

She looked down, which unbalanced her and so resulted in a half step forward. Terry took her hand again to steady her. "It's very pretty," she commented. "But what has covering my legs to do with getting me to float in the air?"

"Well," said Terry reaching into his backpack again, "I'm going to ask you to stand on this." He produced a fold-up stool. "And I wouldn't want you to feel that anyone was looking up your dress. By the way, would you mind taking of your shoes?"

Susan glanced at the magician with a look that said 'Why didn't you ask before you wrapped my legs in this cloth?'

"Oh, yes. Why don't you sit on the stool and I'll take your shoes off for you, if that's ok."

Once Susan was sat on the stool, she put out each foot in turn and Terry neatly removed the shoes and set them tidily out of the way. Then he offered her his hand to help her stand back up.

"Now I would like you to step onto the stool, ok?"

Susan eyed the stool and tugged the improvised skirt around her legs up to knee level, before stepping up onto it and allowing the fabric to fall again, once more concealing her stockinged feet. For a moment everything seem to be going right, then suddenly she seemed to be leaning forward and wind-milling her arms to retain her impaired balance. Quickly, Terry held out a hand which was gratefully taken as Susan re-established her stability.

"You and you," Terry called, indicating two sweater-bedecked gentlemen in the front row of the improvised arena, "would you please come and help Susan keep her balance, while I get the next bits of stuff out."

The two men came forward and gave their steadying hands while the magician returned to his backpack. From the knee-high backpack from which he had already produced several feet of fabric and a knee-high stool, he, in rapid succession, pulled two six-foot poles. Most of the audience either gasped or applauded; a few thought to themselves, 'seen it before, but those poles look like they are made of solid wood.'

Laying one of the poles on the floor, he approached the first guy to step forward, "You are ...?"

"I'm Geoff," he replied.

"Thank you, Geoff, I can take over from here. So, If you'd like to return to your place; but don't go too far, I may want some more help in a little while."

Geoff left Terry and went back to where he had started. Meanwhile Terry stood the pole he had in his hand upright and gently rested Susan's hand on the upper end. She smiled as if she felt less likely to fall from her elevated position.

He similarly replaced the other supporting gent, called Tom.

"How are you feeling, Susan?"

"A lot better, now that I have something to hold on to." Despite using the phrase 'hold on to', she was not holding on to anything; her palms were resting on the tops of the poles and her hands were out flat. "But I'd hardly describe this as floating in the air."

"That's because, I haven't done this." He swiftly dragged the stool from under Susan and folded it up.

Susan's first reaction was to grip the tops of the poles in the hope of steering her fall, but as she realised that she was not falling she tentatively slackened her hold on the poles and gradually returned to resting her palms on the pole-tops. The audience's response was a collective indrawn breath followed by some clapping to show appreciation of the feat they had just witnessed.

Having refolded the stool and stuffed it back into his backpack, Terry returned to Susan and asked, "Is that more like floating in the air?"

"I suppose." She said, doubtfully. "But I am holding on to these poles; it, sort of, feels like cheating; I've still got some contact with the ground."

"Shall we take a pole away and see what happens?" offered the magician.

"I guess we could. You'll try to catch me if it doesn't work, won't you?"

Terry took the pole under Susan's left hand with one hand and guided her hand to Susan's side with the other. He stood back and looked at Susan, who returned a bemused smile. He held the stave in both hands, balanced but diagonally across his body, and many of the onlookers found themselves imagining that he was about to break into a martial arts routine consisting of rapid sweeps and swift jabs around Susan's suspended form to demonstrate that there was nothing holding her up other than the other pole. In the event, he waved the six foot of timber in a more sedate manner, but to the same end. It soon became obvious why a more spectacular demonstration was not employed, when several of the front row dodged backward for fear of inadvertent contact with the other end.

"So, what about the other one?" asked Susan. "I'm more like hanging off it, even if it is at an odd angle."

Terry placed the pole on the floor and went over to where Susan hung suspended. "So, you'd like to remove the only thing that seems to be holding you up?"

"Put like that it sounds a bit nuts, but then again you said you were make me float in the air and this feels like cheating."

"You do realise you are saying this to a magician; someone who makes a living by cheating?"

Susan frowned, "I never thought of it like that, but then again I thought you might be up for some sort of challenge, being as you said that this was your big illusion. It doesn't seem all that big to me just propping someone on a pole and saying, 'Ta-da!'" She waved her unsupported hand to go with the exclamation.

"Put like that it does sound silly, so here goes." He stood next to Susan and planted one of his feet adjacent to the base of the pole and knelt. From his lowered position he placed both hands on the remaining pole and lifted slightly; Susan's hand and arm rose a little, but the rest of her remained where it had been since she had stepped onto the stool. Shuffling on his knee, he guided the pole so that soon both Susan's hands rested at her sides and the knee of his upright lower leg brushed the hem of the improvised skirt. Slowly, so as to avoid hitting any members of the audience, he traced a path round Susan as she remained stubbornly aloft. This drew further scattered applause from the spectators.

"Is that better?" asked Terry.

Susan took a little while to consider her response. "Well, it may be a technicality, but there is a path from me to the ground still, 'coz the sarong is touching your knee."

"Fair point," admitted the magician. "But surely if you are supported on my knee, when I did this you would move." He leaned backwards and sideways so that his knee moved, but never lost contact with the fabric.

Before Susan could formulate a comment, a male member of the audience called out, "She's standing on something and his leg is concealing it."

Terry looked round to see if he could identify the heckler; but decide actions spoke louder the words. "Susan, do you feel like you are standing on anything?"

"It doesn't feel like it," she said.

"Good, then I can get up." He stood up and dusted the knees of his jeans with his hands.

Another ripple of wonder was interrupted, by the heckler saying, "I still think she's standing on something."

"We'll see," Terry announced. He went to stand behind Susan. "Susan, you can be honest with me. How much have you drunk this evening?"

"Um, I must be five or six, but I think some of them might have been doubles; people always seem to want to get me drunk."

"And how are you getting home?"

Susan paused as if she was trying to remember, "Clare, from accounts, is driving me home; she's nice like that."

"That's good," he said as he began to fiddle with the knot he had tied earlier at he left hip, "because you're certainly too drunk to walk." The knot came apart and the cloth dropped from Susan's waist. "In fact, you appear to be legless." The truth of this statement immediately became obvious to all those watching; indeed there seemed to be nothing below the hem of Susan's short dress.

As the cheering died down, Terry bent down on her left side to pick up the cloth and passed his body under her, before rising on her right side; his back brushed against the hem and set it swinging slightly. There were sounds of awe while he draped the cloth over her shoulders like a cloak. It entirely concealed her torso and arms, but did not reach the floor. "We wouldn't want you to get cold, would we?" As the last word left his lips, something black fell from under the make-shift cloak. The magician bent again to retrieve it. As he stood up he displayed Susan's little black dress, where she could not see it, to a mix of mutterings and 'ooooh!' sounds.

"What've you got there?" asked Susan.

"Oh, nothing important," replied Terry tossing the dress to Tom and then taking up the cloth, he wrapped the end round Susan's head and immediately threw the empty cloth to Geoff, leaving him standing alone in the circle of onlookers.

The audience was briefly stunned and then put their hands together in appreciation. As the crowd quietened, Terry began, "I usually like to thank my volunteers with a little something, but Susan seems to have left without her shoes," He indicated the shoes standing neatly a little to his side. "Without her dress." He waved in the direction of Tom, who held up the dress. "And without something to cover herself if it gets cold." He waved at Geoff, who waved the fabric back at him. "Of course, being a magician, I anticipated this potential problem, so I wrapped some presents for whoever volunteered, so they would be ready for her when she got back."

He paused in thought, then continued, "But then, it's no fun for you if you don't see what the volunteer would get by way of a reward for stepping up. So, if the people near that corner would pass the presents over here, please." He pointed at the corner where the boxes decorated to look like wrapped presents were piled.

While the boxes were passed hand to hand towards the front, Terry re-enlisted the aid of Tom and Geoff to gather them in the middle of the dance floor, while he retrieved the stool from his back pack and re-erected it in the centre.

"OK, Tom and Geoff, which one of you wants to go first?"

The two men looked at each other and both were reluctant to volunteer, having seen what happened to the previous volunteer, Susan. After a brief staring match, which was inconclusive, the resorted to a hand of rock-paper-scissors, which Geoff won and duly nominated Tom to go first.

"Ok, Tom, I put my gift for my volunteer in one of these boxes. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to pick a box, unwrap it and find the present." At this the theme music from 'Mission Impossible' began. Tim, grateful that there did not appear to be any magic involved, picked the box with the metallic yellow paper and the blue ribbon and began to rip the wrapping open. As the music climaxed, Tom had the last shreds of paper off the box. "Very good Tom. Now shall we open the box to see if you've won the supplementary prize, which is a kiss from Susan, when you present her reward to her, when she gets back?"

Tom experimentally jiggled the plain white box only to receive the admonition from Terry that shaking the box was cheating. He opened the lid of the box and the disappointment showed on his face. Terry took the box from Tom and showed it round to confirm that the thin walled wooden box was indeed empty. He then placed the still open box on the stool so that the open side was facing in the direction Susan had been facing when she stood on the stool.

"Now, it's your turn, Geoff." As the 'Mission Impossible' theme started again, Geoff went to a blue wrapped box with a pink ribbon and soon had it denuded of the covering. He was finished several bars before the music finished and flipped open the lid, at which point the music did a slow and fade as if it were on an old-fashioned record player that had wound down. This ending perfectly matched the transition from excitement to frustration on Geoff's face. Determined not to be down-hearted, he showed the empty box round the audience, before handing it to Terry. The magician accepted it and placed it on top of the previously opened box, in the same orientation.

"Well, we only have two presents left, choose one each and see if you can get it open exactly with the music, this time, but don't open it until I say. Got it?"

The two men went to stand by a wrapped box each; Tom had a pink wrapped box with a green ribbon and Geoff's was silver with a red ribbon. "Three, two, one, go!" said Terry and the music began again. The music and the unwrapping ended nearly together. "Now, open your box and pull out the prize. Go!" Both men opened their boxes and thrust their hands in to find to nothing. They both share a downcast look and some members of the audience cooed, "Ahh!" in sympathy.

Terry took both boxes in turn and added them to the pile on top of the stool with a puzzled air. They heard him mutter, "I was sure I packed the gift in one of the boxes." Then a light dawned and he went to an outer pocket of his backpack and pulled out a Santa hat; a soft red conical hat with a white pom-pom on the tip and some white furry trim round the edge.

"This is what I had planned to give to my volunteer," he started, then seeming to become aware of the meagreness of the reward, he added defensively, "Well, I did say it was a 'Little Something' and she did volunteer without any mention of a reward or payment of any kind."

The audience tittered dutifully.

"Well, gents, we have four empty boxes and four items that need to be kept safe pending Susan's return. Shall we put them in the boxes?" Terry threw the hat into the top box, while Geoff and Tom went to reclaim the items they had passed to friends when they had been pressed into service as present openers.

Terry picked up Susan's shoes and placed them in the lowest box, before instructing Tom to put the dress tidily in the box below the hat and Geoff to fold the cloth and lay it in the remaining unoccupied box. "Of course, they won't be safe if they stayed here with the boxes standing open like that."

Terry closed each box in turn starting from the top. He looked about on the point of inviting his helpers to take the boxes somewhere where they would be safe, when everyone heard Susan's voice say, "Why's it gone dark all of a sudden?"

The magician allowed the audience a second or two to realise what had happened, then he opened all the boxes and Susan stepped out and down, dressed in her little black dress with the cloth wrapped sarong-like higher around her middle so her shoes were visible and wearing the Santa hat.

The audience whooped and cheered the return of their colleague and soon she was surrounded by people asking her what it felt like to be floated or vanished.

Terry folded up the boxes and stool and put everything, including the poles into his backpack. He was mostly ignored as Susan was the centre of attention. He returned the microphone to the DJ and left.