Real Magic (28 page)

"You want a coffee?" she asked as she poured him a cup.

"Thanks. Can I get some eggs? Overeasy?"

"Honey, you can get anything Jackie can make. You want toast with that?"

"Please."

"Coming up." A bell jingled as new customers walked in. The waitress craned her neck and called out, "Sit where ya want. I'll be right there."

After she left, Duncan took off his fedora and placed it on the table. He looked at its brim and the band running around the base. He might be wearing this for the rest of his life. What he wouldn't give for a pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt, and some beat-up sneakers. Comfortable clothing for a comfortable world.

But that world was gone forever. Not only because he couldn't get back but because he had changed things. He had messed with the past, so what was the point in getting back anyway? Before he would have had Lucy by his side to face whatever the new future brought. But now ...

Strange how he never felt lonely in his old life. Without Lucy, though, it all seemed empty. Like some clever magic trick, she slipped away without him ever getting a grasp on what had happened until it was too late. Yet another marker to remind him that he had fallen in love — the real thing — and had lost that love to his stupid situation. How else to explain this dark loneliness plaguing him?

At length, his food arrived but he found his appetite had waned. He tucked into it anyway, more to waste the time than anything else. A few conversations murmured around him but most of his meal passed to the music of forks and knives clicking against plates. The waitress cleared his plate and refilled his coffee. He knew he should get out of there. Drive off and hole up somewhere that would limit his contact with the world. Maybe he could hire a private detective to find Rosini.

That idea struck him as pretty good. A detective would know how to find somebody in this era far better than Duncan, and a detective could do so without causing as many ripples in time. Only one problem — a peek into Duncan's wallet confirmed that he had about ten dollars left. If he hired anybody, he would have to find some money soon. Of course, he could always play cards for the cash. Yet part of him balked at the idea as if he had a tiny Lucy on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, telling him to become a better man.

Jeez. I'm starting to think like a 1930s movie.

As he sipped his coffee, a sporty car zoomed by, tearing up the road even by Duncan's standards. A few feet beyond the diner, the driver slammed on the breaks, burning the tires into the road with a high screech. The few diners, the waitress, Jackie, and Duncan all stared at the small red break lights. The car idled, exhaust clouding the lights. Then the car backed up and turned into the parking area of the diner.

Everybody resumed eating or cooking or waitressing. Except Duncan. He watched as Nelson Walter stepped out of the car and lugged his bulk toward the diner.

A hush like a nighttime snowfall blanketed the room. Walter had to move sideways down the aisle yet none of the patrons dared to say a word as he brushed by them. When he reached Duncan, sweat dappled his face. He slid in on the opposite side and dabbed his forehead with a napkin.

"What can I get ya?" the waitress asked.

Walter shook his head, and she walked away. He raised his index finger and pointed it straight at Duncan. Once Duncan focused entirely on the finger, Walter turned his finger toward the car, still idling.

Duncan looked closer, a bad twist forming in his gut. He saw Freddie outside, leaning against the car's long hood. Two figures huddled in the back seat. At first, Duncan couldn't make them out. He squinted and inched closer to the diner window. Then he knew how awful the world could be. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. In the back seat — Lucy and Vincent.

He faced Walter, whose sadistic smile chilled his skin.

Walter pulled out a deck of cards and set it on the table. "Time for me to show you a trick."

 

Duncan placed his elbows
on the booth table and pressed his mouth against his laced fingers. To most, he looked thoughtful. To some, he might even have looked threatening. In truth, he wanted to hide the fact that he had almost thrown up his eggs.

"Why are you all the way out here?" Walter asked. "We spent a long time looking for you and ended up in the middle nowhere. All I can think is that you and your lady were planning on getting away from me. You split up to make it more difficult to follow you, and then maybe you're heading for the train station. Lancaster's got a good one. You can head off most anywhere. Was that your plan before I got your girl into my car?"

"I've been looking for Verido and the Door, just like you asked."

Walter picked up the cards and shuffled them. "I learned a long time ago that a magician's trade said a lot about life. I mean this sincerely. Think about it. Life and magic. It's all about getting everybody else to see each moment the way you want it to be seen. A person skilled at life, like a skilled magician, can shape a moment, an experience, to be whatever he wants it to be. Doctors can convince a patient he's sick when everything is fine. Lawyers can take a guy caught in the act of a crime and convince a jury the guy's innocent. Politicians — well, reshaping reality is their stock and trade, ain't it? It's controlled perspective. There are people, for example, who think of me as the most magnanimous, kind, and giving man they know. Others see me as a prosperous, intelligent business man."

"And then there's those of us who know you."

Walter winked as if Duncan's comment were an old joke between friends. "I admit my methods can be harsh. But it's a harsh world. With the Door, with me in charge of the only organized family, well then, the world will be a little less harsh. Maybe you and your gal could settle down and forget all about those of us who have to make the tough calls."

"Is that what these threats are? Some tough calls?"

"You're not listening. Magic, Life — it's the same thing. A magician chooses what reality spectators will see. That's exactly what everybody tries to do in life. Some of us are more capable than others, but in the end, we all try. And in doing so, we tell our life's story."

Duncan wanted to say more, but he merely shook his head. The cigar smell drenching Walter sickened Duncan's already sour stomach.

"Here's a story for you," Walter said as he squared the deck. With a flourish and a snap of the cards, he cut directly to the Queen of Hearts. "There once was a girl named Lucy. A sweet, lovely girl who wants to please the men in her life. She's also got spunk, which is probably what attracts a guy like you. And that drives her to think she's your equal. Like the queen, she won't be happy merely serving, but she must also share the rule."

He flipped the deck over, pulled the Queen from the bottom and turned it face up on the top of the deck. Then with one quick cut, a face up card popped out of the middle of the face down deck. The Joker stared at Max with its mischievous, daring grin.

"This is Vincent," Walter continued. "Brother to the Queen, and a wild card at that." He shored up the deck and fanned the Queen and Joker on the table. "These two are fine on their own. They struggle to make their life work, but they manage. The Joker gets into trouble and the Queen bails him out. Partly because he's family. Partly because he has a gift. See, the Joker has his passion and talent for cards, and they both pray that this will lead them to a life of riches. It's that reality they try to create that leads him to this small town in Pennsylvania."

Walter performed a series of cuts and shuffles, dropping bits of the deck into a small pile until he was left with one card. "This is where I come in." He revealed the King of Clubs. "Not the most powerful King in the deck, but a King nonetheless. Now if this King never came into contact with the Joker, if the Joker never sought Verido, if the Queen wasn't so damn smart, and most of all, if you — a nothing Two of Clubs — hadn't come into the area, then none of this would be happening. But those things did happen."

He placed the King on the top of the deck and held it facing Duncan. "So now we have a battle of magicians. Lowly Two of Clubs, wild Joker, and a King all trying to shape how the others see things. You want the Door to impress your Queen. Joker wants the Door to impress the world. And I want it," he said, rubbing his hand over the King until it disappeared, "so that I can use its power to make a better world for every damn one of us." He spread the deck across the table. Sitting in the middle of all those face down cards was one card face up — the King of Clubs.

"The problem here," he went on, "is that you keep getting into the mix of things." He laid his hand flat over the Queen and Joker. Spreading his fingers apart in a fast motion, he revealed a third card, face down, nestled between the Queen and Joker. "Meddling like you do can be good for you at times. It certainly brought you close to these two people. But it can also be dangerous. For you, and for them." He turned the card over. The Ace of Spades.

Duncan's eyes widened. The Ace of Spades was also known as the Death card. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. Another move that put on a brave face despite the horror he felt churning inside. "Why don't you stop toying with me?"

"I need you to figure out the Door. I could do it myself, perhaps, but I've learned that some people are better suited for certain tasks. It'll be easier, faster, and less messy to have you handle this end of things."

"Sorry, but it's over. I can't find Verido which means I can't find the Door which means I haven't got anything to figure out."

"You'll keep trying." He tapped the Ace of Spades. "I'm confident of that. I don't trust you about anything except your Queen of Hearts. You'll keep at this for her sake. I have no doubt."

"I haven't a single lead. This farmhouse here was my last chance. I don't know what name he's using, I don't know what he looks like, I don't know if he's even around here anymore."

Walter picked up a card from the deck and placed it face down in front of Duncan. "That's what Uncle Nelson is for. Freddie and I paid a visit to an old employer of Verido. He told us the name the man is using now, and I've written it on this card for you." He grabbed Duncan's wrist. "You try and screw me over, I'll play that Ace of Spades."

"I'm well aware."

"And you, Duncan Rose, will play the patsy."

"How could it be any other way?"

Walter scooted out of the booth. "Your Uncle Nelson has one more gift for you. I figure you could always use some help, and the way you're whining and complaining, I know I'm right. So I'm loaning you the assistance of my most trusted man, Freddie. Consider him my surrogate while I spend time watching over your Queen and Joker."

Duncan looked at the card in front of him while Walter side-stepped his way out of the diner. Walter acted like this would change everything. Except Duncan not only knew the name but he also knew it led to a dead end.

He tried to muster the strength to turn the card over, but he sat there. Not only had he lost his chance for finding the Door, but now Lucy and Vincent were doomed to an awful death. The weight of it all pressed him low into his seat.

Glancing outside, Duncan watched as Walter gave Freddie some final instructions. He wanted to avert his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself from peering into the car. Lucy's eyes were wet and her mouth quivered as she darted from looking at her hands while Vincent spoke to pressing against the car window, searching for a sign of help. Vincent looked perturbed, but even at that distance, Duncan could tell it was an act. Walter had probably picked him up the other day, so while his initial fears had mellowed by now, he still knew they were in big trouble. Though neither of them appeared to notice Duncan, he felt their eyes upon him, pleading with him to find a way to save them.

He looked back at the table, his fingertips nudging the card. He knew the name written on it and yet as long as the card remained face down, it wasn't real. When he turned it over, when he saw
Dominic Rosini
scrawled across the card, all chances of saving Lucy and Vincent would vanish like a magic trick gone awry.

Walter got in the car and drove off. Duncan eyed the empty spot and tried to blot out the horrible images his mind conjured of what Walter would do to Lucy.

"What do ya want, big guy?" the waitress asked Freddie as he entered.

Duncan flicked the edge of the card. He heard Freddie ask for a menu and a coffee. That burly man's voice grated into Duncan and his imagination unleashed. He saw Freddie's eager hands on Lucy, his slobbering lips on Lucy, his overpowering weight pressing on Lucy. He saw Walter holding a gun to Vincent's head, forcing him to watch.

I can't let that happen. I have to save them both.

Duncan flipped the card. He stared at the Jack of Diamonds and the name written across the top —
Carl Wolfe
. It's wrong — Wilkinson had given the wrong name. And that meant Walter really needed Duncan for the moment.

Freddie settled into the same spot Walter had used. "What are you grinning about?"

"Nothing," Duncan said, trying to clear his face. He had a sliver of leverage. Blowing it with a bad poker face would be unforgivable.

"Right." Freddie buried his head in his menu.