The Magician's Assistant

by Trevor Venuris

With a flourish, the Magician waved his hands, and grabbed the edge of
the red satin sheet covering his Assistant, as she crouched on the table
on the stage of his theater.

"Ta - dah!" He pulled the sheet, his hands and the fabric almost blurring with
speed. The audience gasped -- his assistant was gone! The Magician motioned
upwards with an outstretched arm, up and up, until he was pointing at the
chandelier at the peak of the theater's ceiling.  There, standing right on the
chandelier, was the Assistant! She smiled and waved at the stunned audience, who
erupted in applause. She carefully stepped off the chandelier to a rope, which
lowered her down to the stage.

To end the show, the Magician and his Assistant bowed. The audience
roared again, and stood to applaud. The curtain fell.

The audience, dressed in their finest furs and tuxedos, flowed out of
the doors of the theater in the city night towards their waiting
limousines. All were still in the wonderful daze of a good magic show,
feeling a sense of giddy possibility.

Once all the patrons had left, an elderly man swept the aisles and
locked the front doors. Nobody waited near the stage door of the
theater; it was known that the Magician never gave autographs. Soon, the
theater was quiet again. From the outside, the theater was dark, and the
street outside was silent except for the occasional taxicab.

Deep beneath the stage lay the catacombs upon which the theater had been
built, and the dressing rooms and storage areas were built into them.
The Assistant and Magician's dressing rooms were separate, and
off-limits to everyone.

As the Assistant was about to enter her dressing room, the Magician
stopped her.

"Oh, could you step into my room for a moment? There's something I would
like to show you," he said, smiling mischievously.

"Of course!" She followed him down the hall to an ornate door. Despite
being his Assistant, she was rarely allowed into his inner sanctum. He
opened the door and let her in.

The room was a marvel. It was like a museum of illusions and tricks \--
props from the Magician's show, as well as works in progress, and
various cards, canes, magical apparatuses, cloaks of deep red satin.

A large desk was set in the center of the room, and before were a few
chairs kept for the rare meetings the Magician held. One of the chairs
drew the Assistant's attention. It was wooden, medieval, with a tall
back. The Magician gestured to it as they entered.

"Sit," he said.

She obeyed. He walked around the desk and drew his chair up, so he could
sit and lean forward a bit. He looked into her eyes.

*CLANK!*

Without warning, metal clasps had emerged from the arms of the
Assistant's chair \-- her wrists were pinned there.

"Oh!," she cried, in surprise. Although she was no stranger to such
clever mechanical devices, it was unlike the Magician not to warn her.
"That's quite a thing, sir. I wasn't expecting that." She gave an uneasy
smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, about that. I'll explain." He sat back in his
chair, and clasped his hands together in front of him. "I know what
you've been doing."

The Assistant froze, and her eyes widened in fear.

"Yes, dear. I know. Just yesterday, you met with the great Monsignor
Silvestrati. A week ago, with Mr. Cho Minh. My competitors. You offered
to sell them my secrets."

"I.... no! You... you misunderstand, sir! I was... spying! I was spying for you,
on them! The offer was... simply a ruse, to get closer to them, I swear! I was
going to tell y--"

"Silence!" His big voice boomed in the great room, the sound echoing
from the stone walls. "You are lying."

The Assistant slumped in the chair, her wrists still held firmly by the
metal clasps. She began to cry. A moment passed. Between sobs, she
asked, "Are you going to fire me?"

The Magician smiled a strange smile. "Fire you? Ha, no, my dear."

The Assistant sniffled. "Pardon? Really?"

Then, the Magician stood from his desk. From behind it, he lifted up a canvas
bag -- her bag, with her change of clothes. He walked behind a paper screen. It
was short enough that only his head was visible above it. She heard a click, and
an electric light came on, behind the magician, casting a clear silhouette of
his body on the paper. He laid the bag down, and began to undress.

He undid his shirt and pants and underwear, and slung them over the
screen. The Assistant could see his manhood in profile. She was very
confused. Why was the Magician naked, in front of her, behind the
screen?

He now took something from a box at his feet. In silhouette, the
Assistant could see that it was a sort of corset, but without any
strings. He wrapped it around himself, and slowly fastened it, until his waist
was incredibly narrow -- as narrow as hers, the Assistant thought.

Then, from a box as his feet, the magician lifted up something larger -- some
piece of clothing with arms and legs and a head. Some kind of full-body-suit?
And the arms had fingers, and the feet had toes, and it had... hair? -- What was
that, the Assistant thought? Her fear had been replaced with fascination.

The magician slipped one leg into the suit, then the other. Then one arm, then
the other -- and now the thing was flush against the Magician's body, and she
could see, in silhouette, that the suit had given him a pair of breasts, just
the same size as hers. He seemed to be fastening up the back of the suit.

Hanging down in front of him, from his neck, was one more floppy thing,
the head of the suit, with the hair attached. At least, that's what the
Assistant thought it was --

Now the Magician began putting on things that the Assistant could
recognize as *her* clothes. He was going to replace her! Somehow he had
given himself the shape of her body, and her clothes were fitting him!

Before long, he was wearing her dark skirt, blouse and blazer. His
masculine head still protruded from above the screen, but his silhouette
was that of a well-dressed woman. And hanging down in front was still
that odd, shapeless form, with hair attached. He turned off the light
that had illuminated him from behind, and stepped out from behind the
screen.

The Assistant gasped. He walked and moved just like her.

"And now for the finishing touch."

With his hands, which somehow had fingernails painted just the shade she used,
he lifted the mask up -- some kind of rubber -- and fit it over his head. He
smoothed down the edges, his eyes closed, as if applying a cream --

And his eyes opened.

"Hi there." He spoke with her voice. "I'm a magician's assistant! But
I've been very naughty."

"You'll never get away with this!" The restrained woman screamed. "You
can't replace me, you need me to do your show!"

*"My* show?" The false Assistant asked, with mock innocence. "I don't
have a show. My master, the Magician, he has a show. I am simply a
helper."

"But you have to be on stage! You can't be in two places at once!"

The false Assistant smiled. She reached up behind her head, and with a
tug, pulled her skin off of her face, to reveal the head of the Magician
beneath. He walked over to a large box at the side of the room. With a
flourish, he reached to a handle and opened the door.

There was a body inside. A man, dressed in black, and wearing a cloth
black mask which hid his whole head. He must have been standing in there
the whole time, the restrained woman thought.

He stepped out into the light of the room.

"Now for my best trick yet," the Magician said. He carefully stretched
his disguise over his head once more, and once more became a perfect
twin of the Assistant. She stepped to the side, and motioned with her
hand at the masked man standing next to her.

The man in black now stepped forward.

Slowly, he reached up and pulled off the black mask.

It was the Magician.

"No! What? How?"

He smiled. He walked over to his desk, as the false Assistant closed the
door of the box. He sat down on the front of the desk, in front of the
frightened, restrained woman.

"A nice trick, eh? Look at me." He gestured over to the false woman, who
came to stand next to him. "Look at how well I wear your clothes." He
fondled one of the false Assistant's breasts. "Feels just like the real
thing. And listen to how well I can mimic your voice."

The false woman said, "I'm sorry sir, for ever thinking of selling your
secrets."

The restrained woman's mind was reeling -- how was this possible? She had just
seen the Magician don the disguise of herself, and then that disguised Magician
had opened a door, and out had come the Magician....

"I know what you're thinking," her twin said to her.

"How can I be me," the Magician continued her sentence,

"And me?," her twin asked.

"It's simple, dear," he said. The two of them leaned down and said their
next word in perfect unison:

"Magic."

"So you see dear, I no longer require your services. I have a way of
replacing you. And if you'll excuse us, my Assistant and I have to get
home. We have a show tomorrow night."

"No! What about me? What are you going to do to me?"

"You? Nothing! I'm going to let you stay down here, and consider your
mistakes. Don't worry. I'm sure there'll be a trick soon I'll need you
for."

And with that, he reached into his pocket, and withdrew a small vial of
something. He motioned for the false Assistant. "Dear, could you help
me?"

"Of course, sir," her twin replied. The two of them held the restrained
woman's mouth open as the Magician dripped a bit of the potion in the
vial down her throat.

"No! No! What was that? What's....."

Before she could say another word, she felt her whole body become numb.
Her breathing slowed, but did not stop. Her head drooped to the side.
Her last sight before losing consciousness was of the Magician and her
twin, smiling at her.

The chauffeur had been waiting for quite some time for the Magician to
emerge, outside of the theater. A light rain had begun to fall, and a
fog had moved in. He was not worried or angry; he was well-paid, and did
not mind waiting. He liked watching the street. The gas lamps reflected
prettily on the cobblestones.

Finally, he heard the clank of the stage door unlocking and opening. He
turned in his seat. There was the Magician, and, surprise! The
Assistant. She did not usually ride home with him. The Magician held an
umbrella above her head. She was a beautiful as ever, the chauffeur
thought. Raven hair, red lips.

The Magician opened the door, and the Assistant stepped in. When they
were both inside, the chauffeur asked, "out for a night on the town,
sir?"

"No, not tonight. Straight home."

"Very good, sir."

As the car sped off from the curb, into the night, the Magician leaned
over to his Assistant, and they shared a passionate kiss.