Real Magic (11 page)

Ben folded his arms. "You all play."

"See that," Morty said. "That's why Ben ain't ever going to be anything big. Always got to play it safe. Not in this world, bub. The real winners risk it all."

"Couldn't agree with you more," Duncan said and picked up the cards to deal.

"Don't I get to cut?" Vincent asked.

A chill hit Duncan. "Of course," he said and watched as Vincent cut the cards. He didn't see a cheat but now he had to nullify the cut with a cheat of his own. This meant using one of several techniques to return the deck to the stacked position he wanted while making it look like the cut had been handle fairly.

With a partner, this could be done easily but Duncan was playing solo. He decided to go with a simple move — misdirection. He turned to Lucas. "What's the score going into this hand?"

While Lucas grabbed the tally sheet, all eyes would involuntarily glance at him for at least a second. That's when Duncan put the half deck that Vincent cut back on top instead of on the bottom. When the focus returned to Duncan, all anybody saw was him placing one half on top of the other, and it all looked clean.

Lucas said, "You and Vincent ain't got no points. Ben's got four, Morty's got two, and I got three."

"Okay, here we go," Duncan said and dealt out the cards. He had expected all the men to play, but because Ben stayed out, the stack was off by one player. It required some extra counting for Duncan and a difficult maneuver to slip off the extra card between the ones he wanted, but he managed to do it without getting caught. Twice he thought Vincent had seen the cheat, but the man said nothing.

After the deal, Duncan lifted his cards and he understood. He had a pair of twos and the rest was junk. He glanced up at Vincent.

"Something wrong?" Vincent said with a smug grin. "Were you looking for this?" He laid down four aces.

Duncan replayed the deal. He knew he had counted right. He knew he had nullified the deck. How did this happen?

"Good game, everyone," Vincent said.

Ben grabbed the tally sheet, "Looks like Lucas is the loser. You all have no money except for Vincent and Lucas has the most points."

"Hold it," Vincent said. "This deal isn't done yet. I've got a few cheats to call Duncan on. One, he stacked the deck when he pulled in the cards. Two, while shuffling, he riffle stacked until he could complete the stack to his satisfaction. Three, he controlled the deal so that he'd get all four aces. Ain't that right?"

Duncan nodded.

Ben pointed to the tally. "Then it's a tie with Lucas, each with three points."

"Oh, one more thing," Vincent said. "He also cheated on the cut. Tried to restore it. But he didn't count on me. See, Duncan used Lucas and the tally as a distraction, but he had to address Lucas for a moment to get us all looking at him. And when you did that, I switched the decks." Vincent produced Duncan's stacked deck from under the table.

"That makes four points for Duncan," Ben said. "Guess you're staying here to clean up."

Morty slapped Duncan on the back. "Don't worry about it. You did a great job. Even grumpy Lucas has got to admit you're everything Vincent said. A real talent with the cards. So clean this up fast and go figure out Vincent's trick so we can all have a good time party together."

"And don't play cards with my sister," Vincent said. "She cheats."

The gang laughed as they crowded out the door and off down the street.

 

Lucy chuckled — a gentle
but knowing sound. "Vincent isn't lying, y'know. He taught me how to play cards."

Duncan shook his head, his mind still on the last hand. He had looked at Lucas for no more than a second. How had Vincent duped him so fast? And why? With a frustrated sigh, he collected the dirty glasses and brought them over to the counter.

"Don't feel bad," Lucy said. "My brother always likes to show up people, especially a new guy. It's his way of keeping everybody in their place. And you're good. Much better than those clowns. So he doesn't want to lose his standing as the best in the magic club."

"Then why even invite me in?"

"Because Vincent admires talent when he sees it. One look at you shuffling the cards and I could tell you knew what you were doing. I'm sure Vincent fell in love with your hands right away. Besides, he always wants to get better. He wants to be challenged. You think Morty challenges him? Or Ben?"

Duncan stacked the chips and put the card decks back together. He glanced at the blue and white door. He would have to figure out Vincent's little trick. No other way around it. But he felt it deeper than that. He didn't simply want to join the club to use it as a base from which to locate the magic door, and he didn't simply want to appease Nelson Walter to avoid a golf club to the brain. Some ember of the kid practicing his pass while sitting by Pappy warmed within his gut — he wanted to show Vincent just how good he could be with a deck of cards.

"You like it here, so far?" Lucy asked, her voice shaking Duncan from his thoughts.

"It's ... different."

Lucy cocked her head as if giving the idea serious attention. "It's nice, though, don't you think? I mean, it's big for a small town, and there's lots to do for a guy and a gal."

"I don't know." Duncan wondered if he should finish cleaning fast and try to track down the guys. "I suppose it's like anywhere."

Lucy hopped onto the counter, spun to the other side, flashing a bit of leg in the process, and then put on a cute pout. "What's the matter? Did Vincent hurt your feelings?"

Duncan looked at her directly with the intention of dismissing Vincent and the magic club in order to maintain control over the way she saw him — but he froze. Gazing upon her, he felt a quiver in his chest. Something about this girl moved him unlike any before. Maybe he should be thanking Vincent.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've been rude."

"That's okay," she said, breaking into a blinding smile. "My brother gets that way too when he's working on a trick or a cheat. Very focused."

"But I shouldn't be. Not with such a lovely lady in my presence."

She pushed his shoulder as if to deny the sentiment, but at the same time, she said, "I was wondering how long it'd take you to notice. And now that you have ... let's get back to cleaning. Mr. O'Neil usually stops by at lunchtime to check on the store."

"Who's he?"

"He owns this place. Doesn't really know much about magic, but his brother told him he could make good money selling tricks, so he opened the shop."

"Does he really make good money?"

Lucy tossed him a rag and walked to the merchandise shelves with a duster. "Some. I don't know why he keeps at it though. No passion for the job, you know? Still, we get a free place to stay, so I'm not going to question it."

Duncan got to work wiping down the counter. He took the time to enjoy looking at all the old rope illusions and coin effects under the glass as he cleaned. There were gaff cards — specially made cards used to pull off unusual effects — and Svengali decks, loads of Svengali decks. In a Svengali deck, every other card was the same but cut slightly shorter than the regular cards in the deck. Riffle the deck one way and you'd see a normal flashing of various cards. Riffle it the other way and you would see only a single card over and over. Loads of tricks had been designed around this simple deck, and even in 2013, Duncan had owned a few. But to see these old 1934 versions amazed him.

He moved down the counter and spotted an autographed photo of Cardini — a big name performer of the time. Lucy's stack of papers blocked his view, so Duncan slid them aside and in doing so, jostled one particular page to the floor. He bent over to pick it up, and the world stopped.

On the page, Lucy had sketched out a drawing of a wooden door with unique markings on it. Duncan's mouth dried up. They weren't exactly the same markings as the magic door in Pappy's living room, but they were clearly of the same type.

Lucy walked toward him with another rag. She halted when she saw his face. "What's wrong?"

He lifted the paper off the floor and held it like treasure. "Where did you see this door?"

"That?" she asked with a dismissive tone. She walked right up to him and snatched the paper from his hand. Placing it on the stack of papers, she squared them up, and held them against her chest. "It's nothing, really. Just a little project I'm working on with Vincent."

"Project?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"But that door. Where did you see it?"

"It's just a doodle. Honest. I've never seen that door for real." Her brow furrowed with worry, and she took the papers with her through the blue and white door. When she came back, she had a big smile on her face. "I guess that's enough cleaning for today. Don't you think?"

Duncan's brain kicked on the turbo. He had a few seconds to make a big decision. She knew something about the magic door, that was clear, but if he pressed her any further, chances were he'd find out less than if he held back. But if let the opportunity go now, he might have to wait many days before another chance came. Unless he tried to break into her room one night. But thieving had never been his strong suit. Yet the longer he stayed in 1934, the more a tiny voice niggled inside him, suggesting that he had really screwed up going through that door, that he might never find the door again, that he might be stuck here. He'd be damned to let that happen.

"I was wondering," he said, buying another half-second for his mind to find a solution.

"Hmm?" she purred.

And it clicked. Simple, easy, and sure to give him plenty of chances to learn more. "I heard a rumor that this town is rather big for a small town. In fact, there's quite a lot to do for a guy and a gal."

"Oh, you heard that, did you?"

"And I'm new here, so I was hoping maybe a lovely gal like you might show me around."

With mock surprise, Lucy said, "Why, Mr. Rose. Are you asking me on a date?"

"I believe I am." He smiled, and to his delighted surprise, he felt genuine about the offer even if the door had proved to be the instigating factor. "I thought perhaps I could take you out to a respectable dinner tonight."

An amused light covered her face. "That sounds agreeable, Mr. Rose," she giggled. "Vincent and I live in the apartment upstairs. You may call on me tonight, say around seven?"

"Seven it is."

 

The remaining hours of the day
crawled by at a languid pace as if the universe knew the importance of Duncan's upcoming date and wanted nothing more than to torture him by halting time. Considering that he had walked through a door and emerged on the other side almost eighty years earlier, he didn't put it beyond the realm of possibility. In fact, the more he pondered it, the more he thought that the universe loved messing with him. But the universe had nothing compared to the war waging between his brain and his heart.

Stay focused,
his brain commanded as he lay in his hotel bed. This date was reconnaissance — find out all he could on the door and why Lucy had drawn it, where the door was and how he could get to it. Nothing else mattered.

But his heart countered with images of Lucy smiling at him while a gauzy filter of sunlight shined around her. He pictured her disrobing in a graceful motion, her dress fluttering to the ground as she stepped closer to him. Making love on clouds.

Who the hell are you?
his brain countered. This wasn't the man he had lived his life as. He never had fallen hard for a girl before and now certainly wasn't the time to start.
Go on the date, find the door, get your ass home.

Sliding the bedside table drawer open, Duncan brought out a deck of cards he had stashed there and tried to recreate Vincent's trick. Earlier in the day, when Ben had performed the trick with the crystal ball, Duncan thought he might be able to use the same principle on Vincent's trick. It was called the 10/20 split because no matter what number the mark picked, the math always worked out the same. There were many variations on the idea but the basic mathematics of it all never changed.

He tried to recall every word Vincent had said when performing the trick. There hadn't been any calculations involved, he never asked Duncan to add or subtract or anything like that. But he did have Duncan count out a specific number of cards. Perhaps that set the card order up in a way that couldn't be changed.

Duncan shuffled his deck and made several attempts to count out specific card orders. None of them worked. He ended up with a different card every time and he had no clue what the card would be.

He rose from the bed, crossed the room, and poured some whiskey into a glass. As he sloshed it around before drinking, he smirked. He'd only been in 1934 for a day-and-a-half, and he had already taken to drinking as hard as the locals. Besides having lived with Prohibition, everybody had to deal with The Great Depression. It's a wonder they all didn't become alcoholics. But he hadn't been hit by either of those major historical events. He was a wealthy tourist to this time period, yet the stress of not knowing when he'd get his return ticket seemed to be drying his mouth out more often than not.