Prelude to Magic: The Prequel to Moonlight and Illusions (9 page)

The woman and her three children froze, staring up
at the suspended load. Expressions of disbelief etched on all four
faces.

“Get out of the way!” Stephen’s muscles quivered
under the strain.

His voice snapped her out of her stunned trance and
she quickly shepherded the little ones a safe distance away.

Struggling for control, Stephen tried to ease the
pine boards to the ground, but the weight was more than he had ever
handled. The lumber crashed to the boardwalk in a cloud of debris,
some of the wood splintering into pieces.

Thank God! Those children could have been
killed!

He stood for a moment, laboring for air. The rush of
air in and out of his lungs was the only sound. Everything went
still. Beyond the pile of shattered wood men, women, and children
stared at him. Some wore expressions of shock, others fear, and
still others looked horrified.

“Who are you?” one man called out.

“How did you do that?” said another.

“It’s unnatural!” a woman in a big flowered hat
shrieked.

Stephen held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
Several people cried out when he moved. “It’s all right, folks. I
just wanted to help, that’s all.” He took a step backward then
slowly turned to his Tin Lizzie, which was still idling behind
him.

As he climbed into the driver’s seat, the crowd
murmured among themselves. The driver of the lumber wagon stood
among them, looking dazed. Then the man pointed to Stephen.

“That’s the magician, ‘The Illusionist’,” he yelled.
“He made my wagon overturn!”

“No!” Stephen shook his head. “I didn’t. You were
driving too fast.”

“Stop him!” Several men stepped around the lumber
and began advancing, their faces now masks of anger.

Quickly putting the car in reverse, Stephen backed
away at high speed, wrenched the wheel around, shifted gears, and
sped away in the direction he had come.

* * *

Nausea churned in his stomach. No time to be sick.
Rifling through his desk, Stephen pulled out all the money he could
find. With any luck he could make it to the bank before word
spread.

“Jacob, you’d best think about getting your family
away!” He called to his assistant as he passed the library door
carrying a pair of suitcases.

Upstairs Ruby sobbed loudly and thumped around,
packing up her prized possessions.

Jacob paused in front of the open door; his freckled
face altered by age and now by sorrow. “Words can’t express how
sorry I am this happened to you, my friend. Mary and I will be just
fine. Don’t you worry about us. We’re taking an extended visit to
see her family in Virginia. She’s packing up clothing for the
little ones right now.” Setting down one bulging leather case, he
wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “Little Matthew will love
taking a train ride.”

Stephen forced a smile. Standing, he crammed papers
and cash into his jacket pocket and crossed the room. Impulsively,
he pulled Jacob into a quick hug and released him. They had been
working together for twenty-two years. How quickly time passed from
happy days when Calvin had been just a boy and Jacob a young lad.
Stephen had lost his son and his brother, and he was about to lose
a good friend and confidant as well.

“Perhaps, when this becomes a distant memory we can
work together again, Jacob,” Stephen forced more cheer in his voice
than he felt.

A thumping and sniffing sound accompanied Ruby’s
arrival. “Are you absolutely sure we have to leave, husband?” Tears
ran down her face unchecked. “We have good friends here.” She
looked at Jacob. “Please tell dear Mary goodbye for me.”

“I will, Mrs. Elliott,” he responded then turned
away. “I’ll just take these out…” He headed toward the front door,
luggage in hand.

“What about my birds and the rabbits?” Pounding on
the front door made Ruby cry out, alarmed. Stephen watched as Jacob
opened the door, admitting the rotund figure of their neighbor, Mr.
Rathbone. He waddled toward them, huffing and puffing.

“Elliott…what is this I hear? You did some m-magic
trick—to a wagon? Nearly…killed…children? Men are on their way
here!”

“Get your budgies, Ruby. We’ll leave the rest for
Jacob to take care of,” Stephen said and headed for the boxes
stacked in the hall. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rathbone, we’ll have to talk
while I work.”

By the time he finished packing the Ford, settling
Ruby and the birds, and preparing to leave, he had related the
whole story—with a few minor alterations to maintain the stone’s
secrets—to his neighbor. Stephen locked the front door and hurried
to the car with a red-faced Rathbone following.

“You do understand why we have to leave? I’ve been
falsely accused before and locked up for it. I’ve done nothing
wrong. I’ve saved the children from harm, that is all.”

“But how did you—” the man sputtered.

Stephen cranked the car and it rumbled to life. Ruby
sat in the passenger’s side, dabbing her eyes with a hankie. He
climbed in and looked back at his neighbor and his fine brick
Philadelphia house, wondering if he would ever see either
again.

“Magic,” he finally answered, touching the
Companion
Spirit
, his secret talisman hidden under
his shirt. “Goodbye, Mr. Rathbone.”

Chapter Seven

1911

San Francisco, California

Stephen stared into the mirror. His reflection
showed shaving lather covering half his jaw. The same face he had
seen for years stared back at him—the same straight brown hair, the
same blue eyes Ruby said held a hint of mischief, the same straight
nose and squared chin. Leaning in he looked closer.
None. Not
one wrinkle or one gray hair in sight. How could this be
possible?

At first he had been proud to be so young-looking.
Turning fifty had been a big enough blow to his ego. But now he was
even older and his appearance was still the same. Now he found it
unsettling, even disturbing. To add to the mystery, he still
felt
thirty-five. He bounced a little on the balls of his
feet. No, his knees didn’t hurt and neither did his back. Both had
bothered Michael in the years leading up to his death. Waking up
and swinging out of bed wasn’t a problem. Never had been. His poor
wife rose slowly and actually shuffled around a bit before her
joints loosened up in each morning.

The mirror didn’t lie. Running the razor over the
surface of his skin, he finished the job and washed off the
lather.

“It’s taken me a long time to adjust to your
appearance without a beard, Stephen, but I think I quite like it.”
Ruby sat on the edge of the bed, slowly donning her stockings. Her
back was hurting today. He would rub it for her later, but now he
had to talk before he burst.

Dropping to his knees in front of his wife, he took
her hands in his. She looked startled and tired.

“Oh, Ruby, my love. I know I’ve said it before, and
I’ll say it again. I am so sorry for dragging you out of
Philadelphia.”

A small wistful smile creased her face. “I know,
dearest, but we had to go. We couldn’t let the mob hurt you. You
saw what the newspapers were saying. They labeled you a ‘dangerous
man’ who dabbled in ‘black magic.’”

Weariness overwhelmed him suddenly and he put his
head in her lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. “It became an
obsession with me, the stone and the magic. I didn’t stop to think
about how my actions were affecting you and Cal, and Michael as
well. The limelight and the applause drew me like a moth to a
flame…and it does still. I crave it. I want it. Badly.”

The wetness from his eyes soaked into her dress. The
touch of her hand brushing through his hair gave some small
comfort. “I was responsible for Cal’s death and for ruining our
lives.” The confession poured out of him like the purging of an
illness. “All these years and I never once considered anyone else’s
needs, just my own. Can you ever forgive me?” Why he suddenly came
to this conclusion he wasn’t sure. The time had finally come to get
it off his chest. He choked back a sob.

“I don’t know if I can, husband.” Ruby’s voice fell
on his ears with a faint and dream-like quality. “I’ve tried to be
a good wife, have I not? I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter.
My husband was the famous ‘Illusionist.’ He was handsome and
wealthy and did his best to love us. Was it really so awful he
loved magic more? Maybe it is only a foolish woman who would love a
husband and a son more than herself?”

Raising his head, he looked at Ruby’s face. She
stared straight ahead, her gaze unfocused as she continued to
talk.

“How much is a woman supposed to sacrifice for her
husband before it becomes too much? Her son? Her home? Her
happiness? Her…self?”

“Ruby?” It took a moment, but her gaze finally
connected with his and he could see her make an effort to come back
to the present.

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

She tilted her head, looking confused. “You never
spoke this way before. It is not a wife’s place to say such
things.”

Again he took her cold hands in his. “We are husband
and wife. You could have told me.”

“What difference would it have made? I reaped the
benefits from your magic as well, how could I complain about it?
Your passion for the show and the damnable Mayan stone is
undeniable. I can see the effect it has on you, even if you cannot.
Cal could see it too, and he wanted it for himself. You didn’t kill
him, Stephen. His desire to have what you had caused his
death.”

Tears were still leaking from his eyes and running
down his face and neck as he gazed at her sad face.

“He wanted to be rich and famous and forever young,
just like you.”

Her statement, made so matter-of-factly hit him like
a blow to the stomach.
Forever young? Has this happened to
me?
Everything in him screamed in denial. Impossible! No one
stayed young forever.

“Are you so unhappy, Ruby?” he asked quietly, unable
to fully comprehend her last declaration.

She looked at him with surprise. “Does that matter?
You are my husband. I would do anything for you.”

Shame filled him. All these years he had devoted
little time thinking about his wife’s happiness. He assumed she
enjoyed working with him on stage, even after they lost Calvin. Of
course, she had been devastated after that fateful night. Both of
them mourned the loss of their son for a long time. Ruby never
really recovered her spirit and her enthusiasm for the magic had
definitely waned.

“My love, I am sorely humiliated to realize how
selfish I have been. Is there anything I can do to make it up to
you? How can I make you happy again?” Getting up off his knees, he
sat beside her on the bed and took her left hand in his. When she
openly gazed from his face all the way down to his belly button, he
remembered he had not finished dressing.

“You can’t,” she said flatly. “I have lost my son
and my youth. While you have lost Cal, you have not lost your
youth. Already the neighbor across the hall has taken me for your
mother, not your wife. Look at yourself, Stephen. Your body is as
muscular as ever; you do not suffer from joint pain or back aches
like I do. There is not a gray hair on your head while mine is
nearly all gray now. She shook her head. “You most certainly do not
appear to be a fifty-eight year old man!”

“Ruby, there is no reason you cannot still wish for
happiness, no matter what your age. You are younger than myself and
will most likely out live me. Most wives do.” He brought her hand
up to his mouth and lightly brushed her knuckles with his lips. “As
a matter of fact, I know I can make you happy in our marriage
bed.”

This made her smile. “This is true. Perhaps there is
an advantage to having a younger husband.”

He sobered as if a bucket of cold water had landed
on his head. “What am I going to do, Ruby? I am truly not young.
You and I both know this. What will become of me?”

“I don’t know, husband, but I do know we will handle
it together, as always. This fact has not changed.”

Out of habit, Stephen touched the center of his
chest and found only skin. A momentary panic filled him until he
saw the black velvet pouch lying on the nightstand.

“After all these years the cursed stone draws you
still,” Ruby said, her voice small and sad.

Standing, Stephen went to the armoire and pulled out
a pressed shirt, donning it. Her attitude toward his talisman
honestly irritated him. Truly, she didn’t understand its
importance.

“I’m sorry, Ruby. I’ve tried for almost two years to
stay away from magic.” Turning to face her again, he watched her
buckling her shoes. “Our money is almost gone. You and I both know
we can’t survive on the income I would get as a carpenter. Enough
time has passed. I could perform again, if I do it here in
California and change my name.

Ruby glanced his way then averted her gaze. She
smoothed her chestnut-brown day dress, buttoned the cuffs of her
long-sleeves, and donned her taffeta hat. “I’m going out to the
market.”

“Would you like me to drive you?” I plan on picking
up supplies to begin making props again.” Stephen put the leather
thong over his head and tucked the velvet pouch into his jacket
front.

She shook her head. “I prefer to walk. There is much
to think about.”

A few hours later Stephen made his way up the stairs
to the rooms they rented in a Victorian-style house, which had been
damaged in the 1906 earthquake and beautifully restored. He asked
their landlady to let him use some space in the carriage house to
construct new props. Already ideas for a totally new show filled
his head. An escape trick, of course, and perhaps the magic
bullet-catching stunt would draw in the crowds again. If Ruby was
willing to train some new parakeets, he was sure they could keep
the birds in the room. Surging up the stairs, two at a time, he
couldn’t wait to share his thoughts with his wife. If he took her
desires into consideration, he could make her happy again.