Real Magic (10 page)

"This is him," Vincent said with a clap of his hands. He hurried around the counter and wrapped an arm over Duncan's shoulder. "Gentleman, this here is the guy I was telling you about. Duncan Rose."

The ginger-haired man put out his hand. "I'm Ben. Good to meet you."

Before Duncan could respond, two other men approached. They had been seated in the dark back corner, but as the came up, Duncan saw he had nothing to fear. They were happy fellows — one a bit sloppy but full of energy, the other droopy-eyed and serious.

Vincent pointed to the sloppy one. "That's Morty, and the other guy is Lucas."

Morty tucked in his shirt before offering to shake hands. "Welcome, Duncan. We sure are glad to see you." He spoke in a wet, sloppy manner that Duncan liked. He half-expected a punchline followed by a rim-shot every time Morty said anything. Morty went on, "Vincent's said you got some talent. Boy, that's great. Really great. We need fresh blood in our club. If I have to sit through another one of Ben's stale tricks, I'll wish The Big One started again so I could join up."

Everybody laughed, including Ben. It took Duncan a second to realize Morty had referenced World War I, and then all he could think was how in less than a decade, Morty would get an opportunity to fight a big war after all.

Lucas flicked his tongue under his bottom lip. "He ain't passed the test yet."

Morty deflated. "Do we have to bother with that? If Vincent said the guy is good, then the guy is good."

"My friends," Vincent said, "I'm sure Duncan won't have much trouble figuring out that trick. He probably already has it done. Right?"

All eyes turned on Duncan. He squirmed under their scrutiny. "Not quite yet," he managed.

"Oh, well. Nothing to worry about. You'll get it. Of course, until you do, you'll have to stay out here in the main part of the store. Only club members get to go through the magic door."

Duncan perked up. "Magic door?"

Vincent made a grand gesture to the blue door with the white handle in the back. "Beyond there is where we do all our big stuff. But we can still have fun out here."

"That's right," Morty said. "Here's a trick for you." He scurried back to the table he had been sitting at and swiped his hat — another Fedora. When he returned, he pulled out a deck of cards and made a show of letting anybody shuffle the deck that wanted to do so. He then had Duncan pick a card while he turned his back. Finally, Morty turned the hat upside down and tossed the deck into the hat with three shakes of his hand. "Now for the amazing part."

"Good," Ben said, "because the boring part has sure been swell."

"Ignore them. They don't understand real quality when they see it." Morty held the hat in one hand and began to bounce it around. Cards popped over the brim and flipped around. After a little of this, Morty concentrated on the hat, reached in and pulled out Duncan's card.

The whole group burst into applause and laughter. Duncan joined in. "That was good," he said, and he had no idea how it was done. He suspected Morty had forced the selection, a technique every magician learned early on. There were tons of forces, each one designed to make the spectator select a specific card, but how Morty got the card to stand out in the hat while being tossed about was strange. Something deep within sparked — a memory of those first years when Pappy would show him something new and amazing, when the joy of tackling the trick matched the joy of pulling off the trick once he had figured it out.

"Morty," Duncan said, "I like you."

"That's because you've got good taste." Morty placed his hat, cards still in it, on his head. As the cards cascaded down, Duncan led the laughter.

"How's it done?" Ben asked.

Lucas put a hand on Morty's head before the man could swipe the hat down. "We don't explain tricks out here," Lucas said.

"Nonsense. This isn't a big secret trick. Just a little party thing. Right?"

Morty swiped his hat from under Lucas's hand. "That's right. This is a little nothing of a trick. Why I'd show this to my little nephew if I had one. And don't worry like that. I won't reveal any real important stuff. I know what's secret to the club and what isn't."

"But we agreed —"

"It's fine, Lucas," Vincent chimed in. "Duncan is going to be part of the club very soon. It won't hurt us to show off one secret."

"Thank you," Morty said with a half-hearted scowl at Lucas. Then his face animated with delight as he turned the hat over. "You guys are going to hate yourselves when you see how simple this is. Now I suppose you could do it with most any hat, but it's easiest and natural with a Fedora. All I did was let the cards fall to one side of the fold in the hat. Then I put the selection on the other side and with my fingers I can literally pinch the selection card so it doesn't go anywhere when I jostle the whole thing." Morty demonstrated by holding the hat in his right hand, his fingers reaching up into the folds of the Fedora to squeeze one card tight while the others were free to be tossed around.

Duncan felt that old thrill again. "That's great. Simple but very effective. I like it."

"As well you should, my friend."

"Okay, okay," Ben said. "I'll show you a trick."

"Come on," Morty said. "I haven't finished my breakfast yet. You're going to ruin my constitution for the whole day."

"I'd feel sorry for you if you actually had anything to eat."

"You got me there. Just don't do that Thurston trick again. He may have been called the King of Cards, but you are most decidedly not. I can't stand to see a good trick botched."

"This is a new one I've been working on." The gang moved in again as Ben pulled out his own deck of cards. "Now, I need two volunteers. Vincent, Duncan. Vincent, I want you to think of a number between ten and twenty. Go ahead and tell us."

Vincent leaned back against the counter as if he knew this trick already and would play along to amuse his friends. "Fifteen."

"To make this really interesting, add the two digits together. Fifteen is a one and a five, so we got six. To make it even tougher, take your number, fifteen and subtract six from it. That gives us nine."

Morty elbowed Duncan. "Yeesh, I thought I finished math class years ago."

"Patience," Ben said and gave the deck of cards to Duncan. "Now I want you to count off nine cards and remember that ninth card, but Vincent, you can't watch."

Vincent turned around as Duncan counted down nine cards and ended with the Four of Diamonds. He showed it to Morty and Lucas before putting it back in the deck.

"Okay, Vincent, turn back." Ben bent over a black satchel and pulled out a small crystal ball. He handed it to Vincent. "Take a look in there and see if the mystic forces tell you the name of the card."

Vincent played along, looked in the ball, and his eyes widened. "I see a Four of Diamonds."

Duncan and the rest applauded, and while Morty and Lucas tried to look at the crystal ball which Ben had returned to his satchel quickly, Duncan had an idea. He had a suspicion about how the trick worked, and he hoped it might help him with solving Vincent's trick. He stepped closer to Ben to ask him a question when the blue door opened and Duncan's brain shut down.

A young gal, no more than twenty-three, stepped into the shop. Duncan had never seen such a beautiful woman before. Her individual features were nothing unique or even desirable — she was short, wore her brown hair bobbed, and had a small scar on her upper lip — but combined she formed an exquisite sight that left his mouth dry and his chest tight. When she looked up at him and smiled, he understood the spell a woman could put on a man.

Luckily, Vincent snapped him back to the world with a simple sentence. "Duncan, I'd like you to meet my sister, Lucy."

Duncan cleared his throat and tipped his hat. "Ma'am," he said, hoping he hadn't committed a 1930s faux pas.

Lucy smiled and the room became warmer. She placed a stack of papers on the counter and winked at Morty. "So what do you think of Vincent's latest find?"

Morty hiked up his pants. "Oh, he's all right. But we ain't yet seen what he can really do."

Duncan turned to the man. "I've got to admit it's been a long time since I performed tricks. Mostly I play cards."

Lucas wrinkled his nose. "You're a gambler."

"Boys," Vincent said. "A gambler is the best kind of magician there is."

Morty pushed Lucas back. "That's right. Why would you want to go spoiling this?"

"Fine," Lucas said, crossing his arms. "Let's see what he can do. Let's have a cheat off."

Like a schoolboy on Christmas morning, Morty rushed to clear a table. "Great idea, Lucas ol' pal. Now, you're talking my language."

While the men brought out paper and a pencil, poker chips and cards, Vincent offered Duncan a chair and a deck of cards. "The rules are simple. We play poker with chips for no real money. Everyone tries to cheat as much as possible without getting caught. If you get caught, you get a point. Winner is the one with the most chips and the least points at the end. That's it."

"Sounds fun," Duncan said, and he meant it. He had never encountered a group like this, wasn't sure such things existed anymore, but here in 1934, he tasted a group dynamic, a level of friendship, entirely new. It was like a group of friends out of a sitcom — always horsing around, cracking jokes, and entertaining each other without burying themselves in iPhones, tablets, and texting. Except this was no television show. These were real people.

"Wait a minute," Ben said. "I know we're doing this to check out Duncan, but we still need good stakes. We can't play without something to win or lose."

"Yes, yes, excellent point," Morty said as he distributed twenty blue chips to each player.

Vincent laced his fingers behind his head. "How about the loser buys lunch for the rest of us?"

The other men groaned. Morty said, "You only say that 'cause you won't be the loser. Besides, I'm lucky to afford my own lunch. How am I going to pay for everyone else?"

"Don't lose."

Lucas counted his chips. "I think everyone should buy the winner lunch."

"I like that," Ben said.

"Why?" Morty asked. "You ain't going to win."

"Oh, boys," Lucy's said in a sing-song voice. "I sure could use some help cleaning up the mess you're making. So, how's this: you buy the winner lunch, and whoever loses the most stays here to clean up."

The men agreed to this which left Duncan conflicted. He had to prove his worth to these guys but he also wanted to lose so he could spend a little time with Lucy.

Don't be stupid,
he scolded himself. She may be the greatest woman in the world but when he got back home, she'll have been dead for a decade or two. All of this world had died long ago in relation to him. There was no point to thinking any other way.

"Okay," Morty said, "ante up. I'm dealing first."

"Actually," Ben said, laying a hand over Morty's. "You just dealt seconds."

"Point against Morty," Lucas said.

Morty raised his hands. "Starting out with an easy one is all."

Vincent gathered the cards and dealt a hand. They played through with Lucas winning the pot. Duncan watched but failed to see a cheat. The others also missed any cheating, so the deal shifted to Duncan.

He knew this element of card handling well and had no trouble hiding an ace on the bottom of the deck for his own use. He won the hand. Then Ben and Lucas each had a turn. Ben fumbled a false riffle shuffle, sending cards fluttering across the table and onto the floor to Morty's delight. Lucas attempted to stack part of deck.

Duncan saw it right away but said nothing. He caught Vincent's attention who inclined his head with the unspoken question —
Aren't you going to call that?
But Duncan remained silent. He watched Morty and Ben, waiting for one of them to say something. But Lucas's deal went through unchallenged and his eyes lifted slightly in self-satisfaction.

As the game progressed, it became more and more evident that except for Vincent, the magic club consisted of amateurs. They were all good guys and had a love for magic, but Duncan knew he could wipe the floor with them if he had to — and although there was no real money involved, he had to show them he was worthy for their group. Especially because he had a nutcase mobster watching from afar.

When the deal came around once again, Duncan decided to put the game to rest. He pulled in the cards with a blatant move to stack the deck with the two aces from the last hand. Then as he shuffled, he found the other two aces and positioned them so that he'd win with four aces. With that done, he placed the deck on the table and paused long enough to allow anyone to call him on his cheating. Nobody said a word.

"Let's make this one count," Duncan said, and pushed all his chips into the pot.

Morty's infectious laugh erupted and he pointed at Duncan as if the others hadn't met him yet. "Get a load of this guy. I love it. You, Duncan, are a pickle. And I'm in."

Lucas put his chips in and grumbled. "Well, he's certainly got us in a pickle."

"Not at all," Vincent said, also calling the bet. "Nobody's forcing you to play this hand."