A Touch of Magic
15 Playing with Fire
20 September 1974, Minneapolis
FOR THE SECOND MORNING in a row, Paul woke up with a naked Goddess in his arms. Their lovemaking the night before was less energetic, but no less loving than their first night together. Serepte stirred and hugged him tightly.
“There’s a naked man in my bed,” she giggled sleepily. “I think I’ll keep him.”
“He is yours,” Paul whispered.
“Mine. All mine. I love you.”
“I love you. I heard you promise Meaghan that you would be ready for class this morning. How soon do you need to leave?” Paul asked.
“Oh. Can’t I call in lovesick? How did I ever live without you for so long?”
“We muddled through.” The two shared a long and lustful kiss that led to touches of intimate parts. Soon, they had joined and felt the joys of intercourse again. When they had come to their fulfillment and relaxed again next to each other, they continued lightly kissing and nibbling.
“Serepte! An hour till our bus!” Meaghan called from outside their door.
“I’m up!” Serepte called back.
“I was up,” Paul sighed as he flopped back into bed.
“I need to hop in the shower quickly. Need to use the bathroom first?”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
In thirty minutes, the couple had finished dressing and went to the kitchen to find that Elizabeth was cooking.
“You kids need some energy for today,” she said, placing a plate of poached eggs, boiled sausages, and beans in front of each. Toast popped up and she gave each a slice.
“Typical English breakfast,” Serepte sighed. “Would you like butter for your toast or salt and pepper for your eggs? Or Tabasco?” she giggled. “Otherwise your stomach will get full without your mouth having tasted anything.”
“Yes, please,” Paul said. “Uh… not the Tabasco. Just pepper and butter.”
“Someday I’ll surprise you with a meal of traditional gruel,” Elizabeth said good naturedly. “I just didn’t think about having a guest for breakfast this morning. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
“Oh. Will you be here tomorrow, Paul?” Serepte asked innocently.
“If I’m invited tonight,” he answered.
“You are!”
“What’s this I hear about gruel?” Meaghan asked as she helped herself to the food on the stove. “We’re having oats tomorrow?”
“Jeeze, people are noisy out here,” Wayne said as he entered the room. He laid a hand on Paul’s shoulder while he bent to kiss the top of Serepte’s head. Wayne figured he must be nearly ten years younger than Paul. And the older man was his young charge’s boyfriend.
“What are your plans today, Paul?” Lil asked as she and Judith followed Wayne into the room.
“I’ve been living in the same clothes for a couple of days,” Paul said. “I planned to go back to my hotel and get my wardrobe refreshed. Why?”
“It’s easier to know how to protect you if I know where you are,” she answered.
“Protect?”
“Honey, Meaghan and I have to leave to catch our bus. Kiss me before we leave and then go back to your conversation,” Serepte said as she dragged him to his feet. “Show me how much you love me.”
The two walked to the door behind Meaghan and kissed lovingly until Meaghan poked them.
“We need to go.”
“I’ll see you tonight at the show,” Serepte said. And then she was off to class with Meaghan. Judith brushed past Paul and followed.
“What’s the deal with protecting me?” Paul asked. “I think I can get to the hotel and the show without a bodyguard.”
Wayne sighed. “You really don’t get how dangerous this all is, Paul. Judith and I made some calls to our mentors in England and… elsewhere last night. We couldn’t directly contact Serepte’s mother, but The Bound has indicated that he believes she is closing in on the gateway in Greece.” Lil pushed away from the table, still unwilling to discuss the magical aspects of what was happening within the group, but determined to physically protect them. Lissa stumbled from her room, poured coffee, frowned at Elizabeth’s offer of breakfast, and flopped in a chair at the table.
“Good morning to you, too, Sunshine,” Wayne said cheerfully.
“Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to get ready for a role like this?” Lissa growled.
“I was just giving Paul a report of what we found out last night. You can fill him in on the trials and tribulations of being an actress later,” Wayne laughed. He turned to Paul and took a deep breath. Paul could tell he was troubled. “The consensus is that The Blade has emerged from his years of captivity and that Serepte is his primary target. Our mentors also agree that he has made a deal with the devil, so to speak, and is possessed by some malevolent being that is driving him to take her.” Paul turned and looked at Lil.
“Why are you here? You should be protecting Serepte!”
“The Swordmaster is with Serepte. What do you call it? You get the second-string defense,” Lil said.
“Why…?”
“Paul, I faced a demon-man a few years ago,” Wayne said. “He was powerful, but the witch who summoned it was still mostly in control. That’s not the case with The Blade. We believe the demon has taken complete control and the man is more his tool than his master. My… The Bound had a lot of experience dealing with such phenomena during World War II. He says that the demon is constantly hungry and that it feeds on power. When Serepte is healing, she is an absolute fount of power. If the demon can get close enough, he can feed on her.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you think I’m in danger,” Paul said. He had no difficulty believing there were powers at work here that people might call magic. It seemed natural in his worldview that even gods and goddesses would walk amidst mere mortals. But he still couldn’t see how that affected him.
Lissa sat forward and put her coffee cup down. “You don’t know your own power,” she said. “When Meaghan and I went to your show, we saw you work magic. Stop! I know you call it sleight of hand. You wove a spell in the room that made people believe what they saw. And then when Lil was hurt and Serepte healed her, you supported Serepte and pumped the energy into her that let her recover quickly. That is power, Paul. You could provide a nearly unending source of power for Serepte.”
“Someplace along the line, we believe the demon will try to get you working together in some cataclysmic situation. If it traps you together in a situation where there is an unending flow of injuries, Serepte’s healing and your support will give it an unlimited supply of power to draw on. Think where that would trap you,” Wayne said.
“So, I need to keep from being injured so Serepte doesn’t suffer from helping me.”
“That’s a good summary,” Elizabeth said. The quiet older woman had gone almost unnoticed since serving breakfast. “You need to expect that the demon will somehow attempt to get to you in order to reach Serepte.”
“And you are going to protect me,” Paul said, looking at Lil. She nodded.
“And I’m going to be your girlfriend,” Lissa said.
“What?”
“Within our circle, Lissa is known as The Chameleon,” Wayne said. “When I first met her, she was disguised as a waitress in a doughnut shop.”
“I’ll have you know I was an assistant manager,” she sniffed.
“And when I first met you, you were a waitress at Rudolphs. You were so effectively disguised that I didn’t recognize you at the show or when I came for dinner. Now you are going to play my girlfriend,” Paul sighed.
“Your girlfriend and your onstage assistant,” Lissa said. “All we need is enough to distract and confuse until we can mount an effective attack.”
“When is that?”
“The circle is gathering tomorrow. It’s the quickest they can get word to everyone. My uncle will try to contact Rebecca again. After you close your show Saturday night, we’ll all meet and build a trap for the demon. We just need to keep you and Serepte safe until then,” Wayne said.
“Well, assistant girlfriend, we should get started. I need to go to my hotel and get clothes and a couple new tricks for tonight.”
“You should check out as well,” Elizabeth said. “Bring all your things here where we can better protect you.”
“If Serepte doesn’t want you to live in her room, I’ll move in with Elizabeth and you can have my room for now,” Lissa said. “Let me do my makeup and dress. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll call Mark, my taxi driver, and see if he can pick us up,” Paul said. He joined the group in clearing his dishes and made the call.
Mark agreed to wait for Paul, Lil, and Lissa at the hotel while they went in to pack up his trunk and suitcases. Paul was concerned that there would not be enough room in the taxi for all his gear, so Mark joined them to assess whether he would need to call a van.
At the door to his room, Lil took the key and opened the door quickly to scan the room for danger. She was across the room and into the bathroom before Paul realized what she had seen.
The room was a disaster. Drawers had been pulled out, clothes scattered, and Paul’s two trunks were open and empty, the contents scattered in piles around them.
“Either you keep a messy room, or someone has been here,” Lissa said. “Anything, Lil?”
Lil came out of the bathroom to check the closet and under the bed. “Nothing. I’d guess this was done sometime yesterday. Maybe last night if he decided you wouldn’t be back. I wouldn’t use the toothbrush or toothpaste. You never can tell what he might have done to make you sick. Do you want to summon police?”
Paul looked at Lissa and shrugged. She shook her head. “I should let Wayne and Elizabeth know.” She picked up the phone and dialed. Paul didn’t listen to the conversation as he surveyed the room. He needed to inventory and repack everything. It could take all day. Paul did not travel light. He paused when Lissa nudged him and handed the phone to him.
“Listen,” Wayne said over the phone. “He’s trying to find something to use against you. Something that could give him power over you. Check everything you own. Find out what is missing. Don’t let any piece of clothing, any of your notebooks, anything you own, go unaccounted for. He will have tried to find the one thing that is most meaningful to you of everything you own. It could be as simple as a piece of jewelry, a poem, a letter from your mother, or an article of clothing. Something in your possession that speaks to your inmost being. Find what is missing. Then, prepare yourself to see it in the least expected place. First, find out what it is.”
“Thanks, Wayne.” Paul’s voice shattered into fragments of thought as he spoke. He could think of nothing else to say. “Later.” He handed the phone back to Lissa and after a quiet goodbye, she hung up. Paul began shuffling through his clothes and pulled out a clean shirt and slacks. “I need a shower and then I’ll start sorting,” he said.
“I will get us a bigger vehicle,” Mark said. “My friend has a van I think we can use.” Paul didn’t respond and went into the bathroom.
In the shower, Paul turned his face under the water and wept. He had been violated. Someone entered his room and went through his possessions. And did not care that Paul knew about it. He stood, shaking in anger, until the water finally soothed him. All he could do was go on.
When Paul left the bathroom, he found Lissa and Lil had been at work. All of his clothes were folded and neatly stacked on the bed next to his suitcase. Lil sat on the floor, carefully stacking the contents of the trunks. He started to object that it wasn’t in the right order but realized that was foolish. Nothing in his life was in the right order. He would simply need to organize it.
Lissa put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him to her. “We’re trying to help without invading your privacy, Paul. If we’re doing something you don’t want us to, just tell us and we’ll stop.”
“No. I’m sorry for tensing up. I just feel so… dirty at the moment. Like everything in my life needs to be washed.”
“Her shower is small, but I’m sure Serepte won’t complain if you want to wash her,” Lissa chuckled.
“I didn’t mean… You know… I mean…”
“What else would you like us to do?”
“I guess we can put the clothes in the suitcases and then clear the bed to sort my trunks.”
“That will work, but you need to handle each item, then hand it to me and I’ll pack it.” They agreed on the system and as the bed was cleared, Lil moved the contents of the trunks up to the more comfortable working height of the bed. She found a suitcase stand and moved one of the trunks to it.
“You are really good at this, Lil,” Paul said as he began sorting through the tricks, props, and notebooks arrayed on the bed.
“I travel with a case full of weapons,” she said. “I know the importance of having them in an order that takes the least space and still gives me reasonable access to them.”
Paul had a normal routine he used when checking out of a hotel that ensured he did not forget anything. He shuffled through his notebooks until he found the one that contained his packing inventory and began pointing to objects and putting them in order in the trunk.
His experience from many nights alone in a hotel taught him that he must make use of all available time to rehearse and develop new tricks. In a pinch, he could have put together most of a show from the props in his room, not including the ones at the Showbox. Nothing, though, seemed to be missing.
“I can’t figure it out. Everything is here,” he said. Mark walked into the room carrying a tray of paper coffee cups. Everyone gratefully took a beverage. “Are you going to be able to get all my junk in your car, Mark?”
“Not to worry. I talked to my friend Telly. We traded cars for the weekend.”
“That was nice of him. Will you still be able to do your work?”
Mark blushed for a moment and hung his head. “I hope you will forgive me. I told him that I had a chauffeur job for a large group for the weekend. I am at your service.”
“That’s great, Mark. Uh… How much is this going to cost?”
With everything loaded into the van, Mark began the drive into town. Paul still thought the price of the service was ridiculously low and determined to do something special for Mark. Lil claimed the shotgun seat and Paul sat with Lissa in the center seat. If everyone wanted to go someplace tomorrow, all nine could fit comfortably.
“I can’t figure it out,” Paul said. “Why would he ransack my room and not take anything? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Wayne says the most likely reason would be to hurt you. I know that you are under emotional distress, but Serepte doesn’t really heal emotions. Everything is physical,” Lissa said softly. “Are you suffering any physical pain from your emotional distress?”
“Not really. Even if he’d taken something, they’re only things. I can make or buy more things.”
“What would hurt most if he’d stolen it?”
Paul thought for a long time. It was true that the things in his trunk, even valuable things, were just objects to him. Replaceable in his trunk and in his heart. In fact, the only thing he truly treasured until the moment he met Serepte was, “My memories.” He looked at Lissa’s puzzled expression. “I have always had a hard time remembering things. I had a severe loss of memory when I was very young, maybe twelve or thirteen. We round it off and just say ten since no one knows for sure. That’s why I always write things down. Usually, just simple reminders of what is happening in a town. Things that will jog my memory.” He showed Lissa the notebook he was currently using with notes from the past few days about his encounters and shows. She laughed at the reference to the actress he met at Rudolphs. “That’s why I didn’t recognize you later,” he explained.
“So, your whole life is in this little book?” she asked. “Not much living.”
“There are several volumes. But all the notebooks were still in the room. I repacked them.” Lissa contemplated what he was saying, but kept quiet for the time being. “If I try to remember something that I’ve forgotten, my head starts to hurt. The first night I met Serepte, for example, I’d spent the entire day trying to remember the steps to a dance I sometimes do while juggling. Nothing seemed to work when I practiced at the club. It was driving me crazy and my head was throbbing. Then… she touched me.”
“And it all got better. You didn’t understand why, but you felt like you could do anything,” Lissa said.
“Yes.”
“And you keep all your memories in your notebooks?”
“Along with projects and tricks I’m working on. All kinds of notes. I wish there was a better way to store them.”
“Paul, I think you need to go through your notebooks. He might not have needed to steal an entire notebook, but only one memory,” Lissa whispered.
Paul was stunned at the idea that someone would steal a memory. “Mark, would you take me by the Showbox and I’ll unload my things into the dressing room. I need to prepare for tonight.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Paul, why don’t you just take your trunks. We’ll take your suitcases back to the house. You are planning to stay with us, aren’t you?” Lissa fluttered her eyelashes at him in an outrageous stage flirtation.
“Just make sure they get to Serepte’s room and not accidentally in yours,” he said with a mock scowl.
After he had his things deposited in his dressing room, Paul ran an errand. He’d seen a New Age bookstore and gift shop on Lake Street when exploring earlier in the week. He jogged the two blocks and entered the store. His senses were immediately assaulted by sandalwood incense and sitar music. The music was quickly identified by an LP cover propped on the front counter and a note that said, “Now Playing.” Ravi Shankar’s eastern compositions seemed perfectly in place for the shop.
“May I help you?” a middle-aged woman asked from behind the counter. She was just over five feet tall, but her gray-streaked hair hung in a long braid down below her butt. Her smile was warm and welcoming.
“Candles,” Paul said. “Uh… round, two or three inches across, preferably unscented. Um, like a ball, not a column.”
“Hmm. I think I have just what you want. White?”
“White would be perfect, but other colors are welcome as long as they don’t create a strong scent,” Paul said. All he needed was an audience who began sneezing when he pulled out the candles.
“Many people prefer a ball candle over either a taper or pillar. They say it smooths the edges of their meditation. Some people only recognize color and scent as aids to meditation, but I see you know shape is important, too.” She showed Paul a selection of round candles and he chose one that felt right in his hand.
“May I buy a dozen of these?” he asked.
“I’m sure I have that many.” She met Paul at the cash register with a box of candles. “You said color didn’t really matter and they come in a variety pack. Will this work? I have a guide for how to use each color in your spiritual practice.” Paul picked a candle out of the box and sniffed it. It had only the fragrance of wax. He held it in his palm and began to hum. He tossed it to the other hand and then over his shoulder, catching it on the back of his hand and letting it roll up his arm until he used his bicep to pop it over to his other hand. He placed the candle back in the box and reached for his wallet while the woman simply stared at him. “I suppose you won’t really need the guide,” she mused.
Paul glanced toward the door of the shop and caught Lil grinning and rolling her eyes. He wondered when she had rejoined him.
Paris ignored Lil as he set his tricks on stage for the evening show. He practiced and she simply lounged with a cup of coffee in the back of the showroom. The manager approached him with a clarification of the new ticketing. They ticketed the show as a three-act special rather than as three separate shows. Their logic was that people weren’t leaving between acts, so no new patrons could pay the cover and enter the show after it began. So, upping the ticket price to double the normal five-dollar cover would increase the gate and not decrease it. The manager also wanted to know if Paris could do an afternoon matinee on Saturday—a light version of the show for people dropping in. Of course, Paris would receive a percentage of drinks sold as well. Paris told him to clear it with his agent and that would be fine.
He sat on the edge of the stage to calm his heart. The excitement of the evening show was already beginning to mount. He had checked and rechecked his props and rehearsed the new tricks. By six-thirty, he had nothing to do. He went to the café upstairs for a cup of coffee and asked that they deliver a glass of milk to his dressing room between the first and second acts in case he needed to settle his stomach.
Then he returned to his dressing room to get ready for the eight o’clock curtain.
20 September 1974, The Showbox, evening
“I want you to remember that everything you see here tonight is just an illusion. It is very important to remember that it is just an illusion or you will begin to believe in magic. Nothing is real. Even I am an illusion. You have only your mind to blame for what you see. Take this silver tray, for instance…” Paris was into his show and the audience was with him from the beginning. Act I was mostly parlor tricks, much of what he would do in an informal afternoon matinee. He used cards, coins, and his popular silver cups. What the audience really appreciated was the sense of humor in his patter.
“Now you drew the card. Did you look at it?” The woman nodded. “Did you show it to the others at your table?” Another nod. “They are having difficulty hearing your nod.” Laughter.
“Yes. We all saw the card.”
“Who else saw the card?” A few hands from just behind the woman went up.
“Okay! We have a cloud of witnesses. Now place the card face down on the table. No one touch the card. I am giving the deck to this gentleman on the other side of the room so he can verify what I say. Now let me concentrate. Yes. Yes. I see a woman. She is rich and beautiful,” he said as he held a hand to his forehead. The table started to laugh. “Oh, excuse me, that was you I was seeing. Let me focus on the card. Ma’am, you have no idea the power you hold. All I can see is a rich beautiful woman. It must be the Queen of Diamonds.” The table laughed and some began shaking their heads. “Okay, apparently I’ve made a fool of myself. Without touching the card, please tell me, is the Queen of Diamonds the card on the table in front of you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you remember correctly?”
“Yes.” She checked with the others at the table and they all nodded.
“Ralph… that was the name, right?” he said to the man with the deck of cards. The man nodded. “Please look through the deck in your hand and pull out the Queen of Diamonds, since I’ve obviously eliminated that card. I only have fifty-one more guesses.”
“There’s no Queen of Diamonds in the deck.”
“You are sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure who to trust here. You… behind the lovely lady with the card. You saw it?” The man at the next table nodded. “And the card was?”
“The four of clubs.”
“Do you all agree?” Nods. “Ralph, is there a four of clubs in the deck you are holding?”
“Yes.” He held the card above his head for everyone to see. The people at the table with the card were shaking their heads.
“You switched decks,” one of them called.
“That’s a terrible accusation. I would never be so dishonest. Ralph has had the deck since you drew your card. Your card has been on the table since you all examined it. I have been on the stage the entire time. Now turn over the card on the table in front of you and prove to us that it is the four of clubs.”
The woman looked unsure of herself, but hesitantly reached for the card and flipped it over.
“And the card is…”
“The Queen of Diamonds,” she squeaked.
“It’s an illusion. The magic is all in your head.” Paris dropped a smoke bomb and vanished from the stage. The applause was long and loud.
In his dressing room, Paul found that his stomach was jumpy and he was glad he’d ordered milk. It wasn’t serious, but butterflies from excitement as he anticipated the next acts still needed to be calmed. The first act was all parlor tricks. The second act would be vanishing acts. The final act would be levitation. He was looking forward to both.
He answered the knock at his door and Lil stood there with a glass of milk.
“Did you order this? I caught a waitress slipping down here unbuttoning her blouse.”
“I hope you didn’t hurt her,” Paul sighed. “Too much.” Lil laughed at him. Wayne appeared over her shoulder.
“Any special lights for the next two acts?” he asked.
“Hey! I was worried when I didn’t see you before the show. Afraid I’d be performing in the dark.”
“I’ve never missed a show,” Wayne said.
“Well, I’ll be doing a walk through the audience between acts two and three. People love seeing this stuff up close. In act three, I’ll be using candle flames. If you can keep the light behind me to a minimum and possibly dim everything down a few notches when I light them, people will be able to see the flames better.”
“These won’t float out over the audience, will they?”
“No. All onstage,” Paul laughed. “Say, where is everyone? I thought Lissa was going to come back to be my assistant and everyone else was going to see the show. Where’s Serepte?”
“Paul, there was an incident this afternoon. Serepte’s okay, but she’s exhausted. The circle is taking care of her.”
“What kind of an incident?”
“An accident involving the bus she, Meaghan, and Judith were on. There were several injuries and… you know Serepte. She healed. She couldn’t hold her flute, but Meaghan put her panpipes in her hand. She managed to release enough for Judith to get her home and the circle has been with her all afternoon. It just, knocked her out for a while,” Wayne explained.
“I should go to her,” Paul said. “We’ll cancel the rest of the show and I’ll go support her.”
“Paul, you have a show to perform. Serepte is resting and is in no danger. She wouldn’t want you to abandon your show, any more than she would allow me to stay with her and not be here to light your show. The show must go on, you know?” Wayne asked. His words were soothing, but Paul was upset nonetheless.
“You’re sure there is nothing I can do?”
“Only go to hold her after the show is over. And do a great finale. She loves that kind of thing.”
As far as the audience could tell, Paris was juggling three balls—one white, one red, one green—as he danced around the stage. It was simple juggling three objects and the audience was beginning to wonder what the next trick would be when Paris held out his left arm and the three balls landed in a row on his arm. He snapped his fingers and a flame lit at the tip of his thumb. He shook his hand, but the flame continued.
He started juggling the ball candles again and as each candle came to his right hand, the wick was lit. The lights dimmed behind Paris and soon all the audience was aware of was the four flames and Paris’s monotonous humming and wordless singing as he continued to dance. Once the three candles were lit, Paris juggled them with his left hand and blew on the flame from his thumb. Instead of the thumb being extinguished, one of the candles went out. He relit the candle as it was flying through the air and blew on his thumb again. Another candle went out. He relit it on the fly. The third time this happened, the audience was tittering, caught up in the dancing flames. Still Paris’s thumb had a flame.
Seemingly from nowhere, an unlit blue candle flew through the air and was juggled along with the others. It seemed that Paris could not get his thumb to light the last candle until it popped up and landed directly on the thumb. The flame seemed to lance through the candle and light it, extinguishing the flame of the thumb. The four candles continued to dance until it appeared they were no longer being juggled, but were simply floating in a pattern above his hands. At one point, they were a spinning circle. At another, they seemed to line up in a straight line above his hands. Then they swung like a Newton’s Cradle pendulum with the outer candles striking the inner and causing the candle on the other end to rise.
As Paris danced across the stage the candles chased him, then circled his head. Paris then tried snuffing the candles out as they flew, but each time a flame went out, the previous one reignited. Finally, the candles landed in a row on the black covered table he used for his tricks, all lit. He bowed as the audience applauded.
“My friends, remember it is all illusion. Do not let your eyes convince you that I work any kind of magic. They are constantly trying to deceive you. Even I, as I stand before you, am merely an illusion.”
He dropped a smoke bomb and when it cleared, neither Paris nor the candles were on the stage.
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