Silent Appreciation
By Scott Wells
Magic Jack. THE Magic Jack.
Seen everything and been everywhere. He was
at the pinnacle of his career as a magician.
So what was he doing in this one horse town?
Sure, Jack was born in a small town like this
but that was thousands of shows ago.
"Glad you could make it. Iím
Delmer." Delmer Lee was Jackís local contact.
"Any trouble finding us?" he continued in his
Southern drawl.
"No, your directions were perfect
. . . except I did miss that road before the
auction barn," he said, struggling to speak
as slowly as Delmer.
"Yeah, several of ëem miss
that road."
"Several? A lot of performers
come through here?" Jack asked.
"Not really. Youíll be staying
over at Gladysí Boarding House. Itís only a
couple of blocks from the Acorn Lodge. Sorry
we donít have any hotels like the city."
What had Jack gotten himself
into? He was trying to remember why he took
this gig. It was just a knock-off show between
closing in Lake Tahoe and working a cruise out
of Miami. It wasnít supposed to be much out
of his way and the money was okay. "Sorry I
was a little late. It was a longer drive than
I expected. So, tell me, what is the ëAcorn
Clubí?"
"Oh, weíre always looking for
new material down at the Lodge, that is, magicians
with new tricks. We like to consider it a place
to grow," Delmer said, dismissing Jackís first
comment. "Kind of a ëtesting groundí for talented,
young entertainers to try out new stuff. We
see shows that the rest of the world will never
see."
Great, thought Jack. Now he
could try some new effects that he had been
wanting to break in.
Delmer pointed toward the Boarding
House. "After you get situated, you can go to
the Lodge and set up. We wonít start until 6:30.
We figure to have you after dinner around 8:00."
How many times had Jack heard
that one. It meant that if he was lucky, he
would be on by 10:00. But, what the hell, where
was he going to go after this show?
"Youíre welcome to eat with
us. Jennifer Bodimer is fixing her world famous
fried chicken." Jack grinned with a knowing
smile and said "Thatíll be fine.
Iíll be ready when you are,
D.L." Delmer cocked his head and stared at Jack.
"That was kind of like a joke . . . a metaphorical
reference to a story about Cecil B. DeMille
. . . C.B." Delmer continued to stare. Jack
blinked and said "Iíll be there early."
The Acorn Lodge was typical
of most large metal buildings, linoleum floors,
plenty of space, a kitchen and two bathrooms.
It was different though in that they had a built-in
stage area, complete with velveteen curtains
and heavy brocade, no doubt hand stitched by
local matrons.
People started trickling in
around 6:30. Jack thought "Iíll be lucky to
get out of here by midnight."
Although Jack didnít notice
it at first, nearly every couple carried a lantern.
As the room filled, it seemed that everyone
had a lamp. It was peculiar that all of the
lanterns were alike. Jack guessed that they
must have been some sort of official "Acorn"
lamp for members.
By 7:15 the room was full,
a lot more people than Jack had expected. As
the food was served, the ceiling lights were
turned off. The light from the lanterns gave
an unearthly glow to everything. Shadows cast
on the walls formed unrecognizable shapes. Jack
had worked hundreds of clubs where candles lit
the room, but that seemed romantic. That seemed
a long time ago and very far away.
Jack shrugged it off as he
adjusted his props behind the velveteen shroud.
He could hear the familiar sound of coffee cups,
talking, laughter, and chairs being moved around.
Jackís mind drifted "this should be like falling
off a log. Forty minutes of magic, a quick nightís
sleep and Iím out of here. Tomorrow afternoon
Iíll be in Miami then out to sea."
"Donít you want some chicken?"
Jackís thoughts were interrupted as a rather
portly, middle-aged woman stuck her head through
the curtain. "Itís really fresh. It was still
scratching around the barnyard this morning."
"Oh, sure." The mental image
made Jack wince for a moment. "Iíll have some
later, thanks."
"Are you sure you donít want
to eat now?" she said.
"Really, thanks a lot, but I donít like to work
an a full stomach," Jack said diplomatically.
"I understand," she said. "Youíre
all alike."
"Have others . . ." Jackís
question trailed off as the lady disappeared
back through the curtain. He shook his head
then turned back to his props. It was already
8:00 and they had just started their meal. He
would probably be on around 9:30 at this rate.
Time dragged as Jack cybernetically rehearsed
the movements of his routine behind the curtain.
"Are you about ready?" again
Jackís concentration was interrupted. This time
it was Delmer. "Everyoneís pulling their chairs
up to the stage."
"Give me three minutes," replied
Jack.
"When youíre ready, Evan over
there will pull the curtains," Delmer gestured
toward stage right. "Just give him the high
sign. Weíll be ready when you are, M.J."
Jack gave a double take. He
noticed a grin on Delmerís face as he walked
around the curtain.
When the noise of the chairs
finally subsided, Jack turned on his taped intro.
A professional announcerís voice boomed from
the speakers, "Ladies and Gentlemen. The performer
you are about to witness tonight has entertained
celebrities and royalty from Las Vegas to Monte
Carlo, London to Auckland, and Reno to Bombay.
So sit back and prepare to enjoy the mysteries
of . . . Magic Jack!" Jack gave a nod to Evan.
The music began, the curtains
parted, and Jack started forward but he stopped
abruptly. The room had changed. The lanterns
were no longer sitting at the tables but instead
had been placed at the apron of the stage. The
glare from over 100 lanterns was more blinding
than the spots at any casino show room. The
music played on and Jack tried to concentrate
on his opening. He produced a yellow silk, changed
it to red then split them in two. He rolled
them up, tossed them into the air and a rose
descended into Jackís empty hands. A killer
of an opening . . . usually.
But tonight there was silence.
He knew they were out there, he could feel their
presence. The silence hung like the gold fringe
on the velveteen curtains. Someone coughed in
the back of the hall. But no applause. Jack
took a quick bow as the music faded.
"Thank you for coming out tonight
. . . at least I think itís night. Itís hard
to tell what time of day it is up here. My watch
isnít of much use in this kind of light." Jack
pulled back his sleeve to display a sundial
watch. He removed it and said, "It appears to
be about eye ex (IX) oíclock." No response.
Then he heard a chair being pulled across the
floor. A man with a moustache approached the
stage, picked up a lantern, returned to his
seat and extinguished the flame.
As Jack continued, his performance
was flawless. It should have been the best show
of his career, but he may as well have been
performing in front of the mirror. No response
all night. No laughter, no applause, nothing.
Just the occasional sound of a chair scooting
across the linoleum floor as another lantern
went back to a table then slowly being put out.
The show continued and the lights were snuffed
until there was but one lantern remaining on
the stage. The light cast a phantasmal glow
on the entire room. It was time for Jackís final
illusion.
"To close this eveningís show
Iíd like to present ëJackís Sackí. For this
feat I need the help of two volunteers to lock
me in these handcuffs then secure me in this
regulation mail bag." The silence was so still
that it could have been bottled and sold as
molasses. Jack swallowed hard as he heard another
chair being pulled back from the table. He prayed
that it was someone coming to help him, not
to pick up the remaining lantern. Thankfully
it was Delmer who walked up on the stage. He
motioned to Evan still off on stage right to
come over to help.
"Thank you both for offering your help." Jack
shook Delmerís hand. Typically he would have
stolen the spectatorís watch but he was afraid
that it would appear to have been set up. "Now
even though we have met, will you please verify
to the audience that we have nothing pre-arranged?"
Jack wished that it had been anyone else. But
this was his last trick then he was heading
for the door. He could hardly wait to feel the
sea breeze.
Delmer and Evan both nodded
briefly toward the audience. "Evan, please place
the handcuffs on me and make sure that they
are locked securely." Jack felt the cold steel
and the pinch of the cuffs as they were tightly
drawn catching a little hair from his wrist
as they clicked shut.
"Keep the key in your pocket
where you know that it will be safe then help
Delmer with the bag. I will climb into the bag
then escape in less time than it takes to put
me in." Delmer and Evan held the bag as Jack
climbed into the sack, drew the top shut and
locked the bag at the top. Jack could still
see the light outside of the bag coming from
the last lantern as he worked with the handcuffs.
Before he could get out of
the cuffs he heard the chilling sound of another
chair scooting back. He knew that soon the final
light would be extinguished and no one would
see his denouement. Jack struggled to free himself
in record time, but when he appeared out of
the sack, it was pitch black. It was darker
than the silence. He had had enough. He gave
them a great show but nobody seemed to care.
"Whatís wrong with you people!" Jack screamed
in desperation. "Didnít you like my show? You
act as if you see this kind of thing every day!"
The deafening silence continued. "Iíve had it,
the show is over." Jack stumbled through the
dark toward his nightclub table where he kept
a flashlight. He couldnít wait to get out of
that creepy place.
Jack took two steps then stopped
dead in his tracks. He felt something warm trickling
down his forehead off the tip of his nose. Everything
swirled in slow motion as he felt his head throb.
A fatal blow took him to his knees then forward,
his face hitting the hard, wooden stage floor.
Before he lost consciousness, he heard Delmerís
familiar voice say "Everyone loved your show.
Youíll make great material."
EPILOGUE
Michael was a young man making
his way to the "big time" in magic. He hated
to turn down any job on his way up. He felt
as if he needed every chance to refine his routine.
He never thought that he could play in a town
smaller than where he was now. He hoped that
this would be the dark before the dawn of his
career. He only agreed to come to this place
because the money was decent.
"Any trouble finding our town,"
asked Delmer?
"Not at all," replied Michael.
"Well, I did miss the first turnoff before the
auction barn. But after that, no problem."
"Everyone seems to have that
problem but weíre glad you made it okay," said
Delmer. "Weíre looking forward to seeing new
talent and fresh material."
