Trance (14 page)

“Since you’re so lucky, perhaps you want to do the costumes for Thomas’s show? We still haven’t
finalized everything, can’t agree, and we need all the luck we can get.”

“Not going well?”

“All the sets are ready. We’ve done those tricks all a zillion times. But he’s got this idea he wants to be remembered. He wants to do a big number - something that hasn’t been done before.”

“Tell me.” She held out her little finger like we used to when we were kids. She knew that most of our new tricks were secret until we performed them so I had to pinky swear her not to tell anyone about them before hand.

I wrapped my little finger around hers and told her about the Blades of Destruction trick. Her eyes were wide with excitement.

“Done. He’ll need something that you can move quickly but that holds his hip tight for support. I can so do that.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Don’t worry I’ve got it all under control. Everything is going to be brilliant.”

I was first to the coffee shop. The seat across from me was empty, mocking me that he wouldn’t show. I glanced at the large clock on the wall, its second hand moving slowly, ticking away. Even though I was early, and he still had plenty of time to show, a knot formed in my stomach.

Jason had texted me earlier this morning. He was back in town for a day before he was back on the road. Said he needed to talk with me about something important but he didn’t say what. He was going to tell me that we should be just friends. I knew it.

I picked up a sachet of sugar, twirling it between my fingers, letting it disappear and reappear as I turned my hand around. No one was paying attention to me, not even the waitress who was busy taking orders from a group of people sitting near me.

I practiced my face, how I’d react when Jason told me that we couldn’t go any further. ‘
That’s fine, I understand
.’ No, too nonchalant. ‘
Could we try again? Please!
’ Too desperate. ‘
You asshole. You led me on, then we sleep together and you dumped me.
’ Way too psycho.

Perhaps I should just say whatever comes into my mind at the time, rather than a rehearsed answer. It wasn’t like whatever I was going to say was going to change anything anyway.

I ripped the top of the sugar sachet open and poured the granules into my mouth. I really needed to quit the sugar thing. Maybe that would help me make better decisions.

I looked up at the clock again. Three minutes had passed. Was that all? I tapped my fingers on the table
as if I was playing an imaginary piano.

The bell above the door jangled as someone entered and I looked up expectantly. Not him. I looked back to the clock. Not even one minute had passed. I needed something to drink, to distract me.

I got up and walked to the counter. The waitress glared at me like I’d made a horrible faux pas, and came over. “What can I get you, love?” Her voice sounded friendly and had a southern twang, but her eyes betrayed at how annoyed with me she was for breaking her system.

“Tea. Black.”

“Anything else?”

“That’ll be it for now, thank you.” I smiled at her, trying to compensate for upsetting her, and also so she wouldn’t spit in my cup.

The doorbell jangled. I turned.

Jason stood in the doorway, a grin on his face and a bunch of flowers in his hand. He bought me flowers? Aw, how sweet.

“Hey,” he said.

I pointed to our table and sat down. “Are those for me, or did you invite your mother?”

“These?” He placed the bunch on the table. “Don’t worry about them.”

Oh crap, they weren’t for me after all. I kept the smile on my face anyway so I didn’t look stupid.

“I’ve ordered a tea, I didn’t know what time you’d be here, so I haven’t got you anything.”

“Right.” He lifted his hand and the waitress came over. This time she seemed happy, smug even, that someone knew the correct protocol for ordering. He ordered a cappuccino.

When the waitress left he leaned over to me, conspiratorially. “And no alcohol,” he said. “See, I can be with you without being impaired.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. He wasn’t going to let me forget that in a hurry. “I said I’m sorry about that.”

He waved his hand as he glanced around the shop. He looked distracted, distant.

“So what is this big important thing you needed to discuss with me?” I asked.

He squinted and looked down at his hands, before looking back at me and smiling. I could tell it wasn’t a genuine smile though. A lump formed in my throat.

“We’ll be working together.”

I frowned. What did that mean?

“I’ll be doing the TV special with you and Thomas.”

“And my grandmother.”

“Um, yeah.” He kept the smile on his face, but his eyes betrayed how nervous he was.

I shook my head. “I’m not sure I follow. What do you mean working together?”

He glanced around the room again, just as the waitress came to the table with our drinks, placing my tea in front of me, and Jason’s coffee in front of him. He added a teaspoon of sugar and stirred it slowly with his spoon, licking the milky froth off it.

“Jason, what do you mean you’ll be working on the TV show?”

He waved his hand again like it was no big deal. “I’ll be doing a few tricks. That’s all. Kind of like warming up to the big finale, which will be Thomas of course.”

“But the show is all Thomas. It’s his big farewell. Why would they want you to do anything?”

“It’s just a small part of the show. It will still be all about him.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. My tea could wait. “And you said yes?”

“Sure. So we could see each other. That’s good isn’t it?”

Hell, no. Not if he was trying to muscle in on some of my grandfather’s publicity. “What about your rule.”

“My rule?”

“About not dating someone you work with?”

“Oh, right. This is different. It’s a one off thing. We’ll be on the same show, but it won’t be like we are actually working together, yet we can see each other every day. It’ll be good to see you perform again.”

I looked down at my tea, which I didn’t feel like anymore, and then across the flowers that apparently weren’t mine. Jason took another sip of his coffee.

“I don’t want you to do this. Tell them you’ve changed your mind. Thomas will never agree to someone trying to steal his big finale.”

Jason put the coffee onto the saucer. It clinked and I saw that his hands shook nervously. “I can’t. I’ve signed the contract. It’s a done deal. We’ll just have to find a way that we can make this work for everyone.”

He was really going to do this. He was going to choose his career, and the publicity he’d get from being on the show, ahead of what I wanted.

It suddenly became clear. He’d always been nice to me, even when I was crazy and uncertain. He was a steady rock when I was a hot mess. But it was all an act. He was using me to get some of Thomas’s fame. My hands were shaking and I gripped the seat of my chair until I couldn’t feel them anymore.

I closed my eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I opened them again and smiled. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for letting me know. I guess we’ll see each other at rehearsal.” I opened my purse and pulled out a few notes, placing them neatly on the table. I took one big gulp of my tea leaving it almost three quarters full, and stood up. “Bye, Jason.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’ve got a lot to
organize. We still need to finalize costumes. Thomas has to practice, and so do I. I’ll send you details when we can rehearse together, to get the timing right for each of our gigs.”

He lifted the flowers off the table. “Are you going to take these?”

I raised an eyebrow. “No thank you.” I turned and walked out of the store.

I gripped the steering wheel. I hadn’t put the keys in the ignition yet, I wasn’t ready to drive. My knuckles had turned white and I could see ridges were the veins in the back of my hands stuck out. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I could see the blood pulsing through them as my heart was beating so fast.

I needed to calm down before I thought about turning the motor over and getting out of here. I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone,
dialing the theatre manager.

“It’s what the TV exec’s wanted.
Ain’t had no say in it,” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?”

“Didn’t know they’d finalized a who. Just knew they wanted a younger demo.”

“Thomas could have pulled a younger crowd, our audience is full of different ages.”

“Well, that’s not what they said the pollin’ indicated. So if was either pull the show altogether, or put in something the young ones wanted to watch. S’pose they went in the latter direction. I need the money too.”

“So what does that mean for us?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s changed. You still get top billing here.”

“Is our time cut?”

“I don’t know. I guess they’ll make that call once they have the footage.”

“It’s not live anymore?”

“Ain’t nothing live these days.”

I frowned. “So there’s nothing we can do to change this.”

“Don’t see how. You probably wouldn’t want to anyway. The more eyeballs you get on the screen, the bigger the sendoff will be. You do want as many people watchin’ as possible, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure, of course I do.”

“Well, don’t you worry about it. You just do want y’all do best and make some sweet magic. That’s what the folks want to see, anyways. Maybe the execs will see your stuff and decide to cut out ever’one else after all.”

“Exactly. We are the stars, and we’ll show them why Thomas
Tinks is the best magician this century. They’ll regret their decision to bring on someone new.”

“Damn
tootin, you will.”

“Why did they choose a hypnotist, though?
Seems an unlikely match for a magician.”

“Don’t know. But I heard he begged to do it. They wanted to go differently, but he convinced them.”

“I bet he did. I’m started to understand him a little better now. What his motives truly are.”

“I wouldn’t worry. He’ll be an overnighter - won’t be able to cut it long term. Nobody will know his name in a year. I’ve seen it all before.”

I felt better. Thomas was a legend. We could show those TV people exactly why he could still pull a crowd, even at his age. He’d been in the business for longer than Jason Green was alive, and knew more about how to entertain than some uppity hypnotist that used people to advance his career, could ever know.

How dare he even think that he could manipulate me like
that? I shouldn’t even be surprised, it’s what he does. All his show is, was manipulating people. It was probably the only thing he knew how to do. I shouldn’t blame him. But I was going to blame myself. I should know better. I should have realized earlier that he would do anything to become famous. I’d seen his office. I’d seen his show. He’d do anything he could to become bigger, including pretending to like people he otherwise wouldn’t.

I placed the key in the ignition, turned it over and sped out of the parking lot. We’d show him who were the real stars of the show.

“Again,” I said to my grandfather.

We had been practicing his walk through the fan for nearly an hour. It was hot inside the garage, and even though the small window on the side was open, no breeze came though to cool me down.

“I’ll need a break soon.
Gotta rest this hip.” He tapped the side of his body like he was drumming to an unheard melody.

“One more time, then we’ll get lunch.” We had to make this right, make it perfect.

“Alright, one more time.” He’d agreed to practice without the blindfold, and still taking it off had made it through without being hit thirty one times out of fifty. We were getting closer to perfecting it. When we could increase it to three quarters through without being touched, we’d move back to the blindfold.

He strode confidently to the fan, did a quick jump step through and then lifted his arms. “Success again. We’ve got this.” You would never have guessed that just weeks ago he’d been in the hospital with a cracked hip.

I grinned. We certainly did have it.

He linked his arm in mine and we went inside where my grandmother had laid out fresh bread rolls, ham, lettuce and cheese on the dining table. My grandfather sat down. His cane leaned against the wall. He hadn’t been using it as much in the last few days which made me even more confident. His step was lighter and his mood happier. Performing was the reason, I knew it. Nothing else made him this happy, apart from dancing with my grandmother, something he was now forbidden to do from his doctor. I wondered what his doctor would think about him jumping though a fan with sharp blades? I was sure that wasn’t on the to-do list.

The lettuce crunched in my mouth as I took a bite of my sandwich. I washed it down with fresh apple juice. My grandmother helped pile Thomas’s sandwich high and added sweet pickles, just the way he liked it. He caressed her cheek and pulled her down for a kiss. I loved how sweet they still were with each other, even after all these years. That’s how couples should be - that’s how love was supposed to be.

“When do you want to move to the metal fan?” I asked. “I got the safety foam to put on the blades, now that you’ve got the hang of the plastic one, we should try the one we’ll actually be using.”

“I really wish you’d use mirrors instead,” said my grandmother who had sat back down and was making her own sandwich. “I’m worried about you hurting yourself.”

“I’ll be fine. When has Thomas
Tinks ever made a mistake?” He puffed up his chest and winked at both of us.

“He will be fine,” I added. “And we can’t use mirrors. It won’t be authentic enough. We need real, and we need danger. That’s what is going to get us on the front page of every newspaper - something dazzling, something daring, something that only the amazing Thomas
Tinks could perform. Think of the promo they could do when he does this without any tricks. That’s what real magicians do - magic.”