A Magician Never Tells His Secrets

“Corn picking,” Tori said flatly, her mouth hanging open dubiously. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I laughed. “I guess that’s a no.”
“You guess right,” she agreed, sitting back against the driver’s seat and flicking back her long brown hair. “I mean, corn picking? Come on Meg.”
“Hey, it might have been fun,” I said indignantly, trying to defend my idea. Tori snorted.
“Well then, miss negative, where do you want to go?” I demanded, quite sick of her pessimism. Why did it have to be me suggesting things all the time? Creating all the ideas? She could make the plans for once. Tori picked up on my tone and pulled her eyes away from the road to see my face.
“Hey don’t be like that! Your right, corn picking might be fun,” she half-heartedly agreed. I could hear the doubt in her voice. “I just think there could be funner stuff out there. I mean, if we’re going to waste a whole summer, let’s do it somewhere enjoyable at least.”
Still sour, I merely shrugged. Tori turned her hazel eyes back on the road. We were driving to the fairground for the carnival. The afternoon was growing old, casting orange and red from the west into the purple sky.
I had decided on the turquoise dress in the end, basically because I had nothing else to wear and wanted to look alright in comparison to Tori. It was made of material that my mom told me was called viscose, and which felt almost like paper. It had thick straps and a lace trim at the neck and hem and gathered under the bust. Although it matched my eyes, and highlighted my strawberry blonde hair, I still felt plain next to Tori.
Her chocolate hair was out and fell in voluminous waves down to the back of her coral dress, which complimented her olive skin very nicely. Her hazel eyes were perfectly balanced with her thick pink lips and flawlessly proportioned figure. Ever since my freshman year I had been envious of Tori’s European beauty, which could have landed her a modelling job in a heartbeat. In comparison to exotic Tori I felt small and boring.
These feelings where intensified when we got out of the car in the fairground car park, where, as she shut her door and shook back her hair, two guys leaning against the chain link fence whistled at her.
Tori laughed dismissively and led the way into the fairground. My feelings of insecurity and grouchiness vanished as I entered the carnival. My brain had no room for these emotions amongst the overwhelming sense of awe.
Stalls made a strange sort of township over the grass, lined up to make a main road right through the middle, while smaller, dimly lit alleyways crept between the wood and canvas every few yards. The air was filled with lattices of white fairy lights, which snuck from their overhang to trickle down the sides of the stalls. Eerie ethereal Eastern European music seemed to wind through the sounds of children’s laughter, the cheers of crowds and yelling of stall venders. Strange masked figures leered from the dark corners, making people jump and laugh as they clutched at them with gloved fingers. The darkness and twinkling lights made faces seem sharper, features creepier.
I thought under the happiness of the carnival I could feel something sinister. The faces smiling so happily they seemed to sneer. The music so bright it seemed to laugh at you. The rush and bustle of everyone as if they were trying to escape.
I wasn’t scared though, if anything I felt almost the opposite. The edge seemed to add to the thrill. Tori could feel it too, and she grasped my arm excitedly.
“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Tori suggested from beside me, pulling me back into conscious thought as she clung onto my forearm. “Or eat some cotton candy!”
“Or see the fortune teller,” I added excitedly, nodding towards a colourful sign with a crystal ball underneath an emblazoned title.
“Or play the ring toss!” Tori proposed.
“Or watch the fire breather, or witness real magic tricks, or see the freak show,” a booming male voice said from behind us. “There’s just so much to do at Magic and Mischief Carnival!”
We jumped and laughed at ourselves for being on edge, turning to see who had spoken. Behind us was a young man, dressed flamboyantly in a red top hat, a matching crimson tails coat with gold sequins embroidered around the edges of his lapel and gold silk pants which were tucked into black gumboots. He wore a gold ring in his sharp, Elvin nose and his out-of-proportion wide grey eyes were outlined in black and ringed with over the top fake eyelashes. Black curls, wet with sweat, stuck together under the red top hat. A small crowd began forming around him as he lithely jumped upon the counter of a stall and continued his speech.
“Watch the incredible contortionist fire an arrow through a flaming ring, only using her feet! See the sword swallower put a whole blade down his throat! Laugh as the clowns fool around the grounds. Test your skills at the tin-can shooting range, or the apple bobbing stall. Stuff your faces with plenty of cotton candy, popcorn, peanuts and hotdogs. Count how many balls the jugglers can throw about at once! Have your faces painted! Visit the kissing booth for a little bit of action! Take a trip through the house of horrors! Hit a target and dunk the carnie!” He yelled all this in increasing volume, getting faster and louder until I wondered how he had time to breathe.
“And overall, enjoy the fun!” He concluded, reaching into his gold silk pocket and drawing out a clenched fist. Opening his hand he tossed a cloud of sparkling gold and red glitter over the punters. I ooh-ed and ahh-ed, with everyone else, until I looked back to where the guy had stood, only to notice he was gone.
Tori was twirling around in the shower of sparkles, gold catching in her hair and making me notice again the inequity of life.
“Come on,” she giggled, taking my hand and stumbling down the main walkway. We visited the ticket booth where a surly looking carnie exchanged our money for tokens.
“Sick of this,” he mumbled as he handed over the lustrous gold tickets which we quickly exchanged for two bags of popcorn and a turn at the ring toss. Our rings soared nowhere near the prizes, and good-naturedly defeated we decided it was time to go on some rides. We did a round on the bumper cars, where my inept driving skills sent us repeatedly into the walls.
“Ferris wheel?” I suggested, as we walked dizzily from the rink where we’d ridden the bumper cars.
“I’m going to need more tokens,” she said sadly. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I leaned against the side of one stall, resting my head on the wood, closed my eyes and sighed happily. This was turning out to be such a fun night. I didn’t need to worry about my plans for the summer. I could just sit back and enjoy some good, wholesome fun.
I relied on my other senses to dictate the scene around me. The laughter of children running past me, the smell of popcorn which floated very near, the taste of human sweat in the air. Suddenly there was an acute change in the atmosphere, the crowds seemed to dim, the music grew louder and changed into something more upbeat, but more grotesque than ever.
My eyes snapped open as more glitter flecked in and out of life around me. A cloud of flame blossomed into a ragged balloon out of the mouth of a fire breather. Rhythmic gymnasts, belly dancers and ballerinas weaved around me, ribbons and bells and chiffon surrounding me. I watched in wonder as the colourful, majestic procession danced down the walkway, punters being swept into the march just as I was. Stilted figures bended over to look me in the face, drunken clowns grabbed my by the hands and dragged me into their intoxicated twirl. The ominous feeling was heightened with the euphoria of the night’s big event; my heart was pounding in my ribcage, my ears, and my wrists.
Panting, I winded out of the parade, finding myself in the mouth of one of the dimmer, narrow alleyways which ran off the main one. I flattened myself to the side of a stall, hoping I wouldn’t get swept back into the crowd. The freedom and atmosphere scared me.
I closed my eyes, still breathing heavily. Never had I felt so out of control. So beyond reason, so swept up in the moment. And I was frightened by it. This wild ecstasy.
I sighed, pushing the strange probing thoughts from my mind. But as I focused more on my surroundings, I felt I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
“Hello?” I asked, forcing my eyes to probe the darkness. As my sight adjusted to the pitch black, I imagined I could see the side profile of a face, the bend of a chin, a nose, and the indentations of eyes.
“Do you believe in magic?”
The soft voice startled me, and as I jumped back I had time to marvel at the smoothness of his tenor, the slight accented English.
“Who’s there?” I said, my voice jumping up an octave.
“That’s neither here nor there,” the quiet male voice spoke. The small inflection, was it French? Russian? I couldn’t tell.
“No,” I said, stepping forward nervously, still trying to see who I was speaking to. “Why would I?”
I thought I saw the round black curve of a cheek against the purple night lift. He was smiling. I swallowed, feeling the lump in my throat bob.
“Why don’t you come into the light?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my torso. Even in the summer, the nights could get frightfully cold. I hadn’t brought a cardigan. I didn’t have one to match my dress.
“It’s easier to be invisible in the dark,” he commented. I thought I heard a slight shuffling and looked down to where his hands would be, if I could see them. The shuffling continued.
“Right,” I said flatly. “I’m going to leave, it was . . . nice talking to you.”
Up to that moment my curiosity was holding me still, but fear was quickly draining it away. Who knew what he was twirling in his hands. What if it was a knife? I swallowed again and turned away. Suddenly I felt flesh around my hand, on my shoulder, warm breath tickling my lips in a ghostly chuckle. My stomach went cold as I shoved my free hand out, meaning to push him away, hit him in the chest.
But it didn’t make contact.
I blinked in the thick darkness, trying to discern shapes. But the organic lines of his face I could no longer see. I shuddered and fled wildly back into the light. Oh God, why had I been such an idiot? Why did I go into that dark alley? Didn’t mom teach me anything?! I could have been raped or murdered. Oh GOD! My brain whirled out of my control as I searched for Tori. Where had she gotten to? How long had it been since she’d gone to get more tokens? Where had I been when I promised to wait for her? Oh god.
“Meg! There you are!” An accusing voice said. I saw Tori, looking bored and impatient. “I was waiting for ages! Where did you . . .” Her face softened to mirror the panic I knew she saw on my face. “What the hell happened? What’s that?” She pointed to my shoulder. I looked down to see a red and white piece of paper stuck between my bra and dress strap. I wrenched it out, only to stare in bemusement.
It was a playing card. The two of hearts.