The Magician

A hat makes a rabbit, but what is the hat without? A magician keeps the secret. Not a word or a doubt.

Bright lights flickered down the streets on a cold city as winter approached. Inside the auditorium a magician performed graciously, pulling rabbits from hats, hats from rabbits, and rabbits and hats from thin air. The crowd murmured as his illusions took them in to another world, clapping fanatically as he finished. Every now and then from the audience he would choose a volunteering hand to assist him. Tonight a young boy, James Ramsteel, raised his hand high into the air, stretching every muscle to its extent, as the magician looked plaintively around the crowd.

“You!” he pointed to the far back, “Young man, come down, come down.”

James began to sweat, not sure if the magician was speaking to him or someone near, there were plenty of ‘young men’ in the audience. His tension built as the room went silent, the crowd staring in his direction; his muscles strained tighter.

“Master James!” the magician called out, smiling as he waved a hand toward the stage.

James leaped up with a shrill cry of excitement, dashing to the stage. He called on me! He called on me! He thought to himself. How did he know my name?

As James approached the stage, the magician made a low bow to him; the audience cheered with excitement. “Tonight,” he began, hushing the crowd, “Master James shall assist me in an experiment of mine that I haven’t the time to test yet. Until now.” The crowd clapped and cheered louder. Five men from behind the curtains came out with a large black box, rectangle in shape, decorated with swirling stars.

The magician motioned for James to come stand next to him. Whispering, he said “Now, Master James, what I want you to do is,” he looked cautiously around the crowd. “When my men open that box, I want you to climb inside. Can you do that for me?” James nodded, smiling. The audience roared.

The magician turned toward the audience and spoke, his voice rose over the calamity, “My assistant shall step into this box here.” The crowd focused on James as the men opened the strange box. James looked over to the magician and in return got a wink. He slowly made his way over to the box. The crowd went completely silent.

Climbing inside, the men shut the door behind him and locked it. The stars seemed to have changed patterns. “Now that my assistant is safely inside the box, we shall give it a spin.” He took a low bow then moved over to the box, resting a hand on the top corner. A grim look spread across his face, sweat beaded on his brow. Suddenly, he pulled the box down. It went spinning slowly, around and around. The auditorium was quiet as a funeral. The strange rectangular box spun and spun, getting faster every time it passed the magician. The stars blended together to make a swirling mirage of light. A silent buzz filled the room.

Inside, James stood quietly, waiting for something to happen. The minutes seemed to go by slowly inside the box and he began to feel like the magician forgot how his trick went. No light escaped from outside into the box as James stood silently. No sound but his own breathing and heartbeat. He began to worry as time progressed. Surely it’s been at least ten minutes. He thought to himself.

Nothing was happening. What if he locked me in here and the show ended? What if everyone’s gone home? The boy worried more and more with every passing minute. Finally, he gave in to curiosity and pushed on the door.

To his surprise, it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t even hard to push open. In fact, it seemed to open almost on its own. A bright light swept into the box, blinding James for a second. Once his eyes adjusted, he peered outside slowly. What he saw was not the auditorium he had been in earlier. There were no people. No magician. As he turned around, there was no box. He was standing in snow.

James looked back then all around, making a complete circle. There was nothing but a shore of white fluff. The sky was completely blue, but otherworldly. There was nothing, just a land stretched with snow. It was cold, but as James looked down his feet were settled in big black boots, a heavy winters coat pulled over his torso, and a scarf of red and white around his neck. On his head, covering his short-black hair was a light blue hat, the same color of the sky.

“Hello?” he yelled, voice echoing soundly off of the nothingness.

From afar there came a small sound, like the sound of chalk against board. Then it became louder and louder, until it reached a full crescendo. The sounds became a pleasant sweeping melody. Chalk on boards? No, it was the sound of a violin. But from where? James looked around frantically. The sound seemed to come from every direction.

The violin played a light melody, making it seem as if the sun was getting brighter and the air warmer. As James looked around, small hills began to rise out of the snow, slowly forming into tall mountains. Wooden houses spouting smoking chimneys rose from the ground. It was like magic. Snow quickly melted away revealing bright-green grass underneath. People began looking out their doors and stepping outside to see what the occasion was. The violin playing a tune that glided over the reconstructed town like a bird in the sky.

“Are you here for the River?” Came a voice from behind James. As he turned around, a tall man stood before him. He was unusually tall, leaning over the boy by at least six feet. His clothes were black and white, his moustache was a curled black, and his hair was long and parted down the middle. “Well? Speak up. We don’t have all the time the in the world.” The man winked, moving his hand in a sweeping motion around the now grassy fields.

James looked up at the man; which was like looking up the Eifel Tower. The man had a smile that seemed welcoming and safe. All sense of being lost left James for a tick, and then it was back again. “I… I don’t know where I am.” He said, looking down at the man’s shoes. Blackened leather, polished.

“Hmmm.” The tall man looked down at James, focusing a large eye on him. “Follow me lad, the River is waiting.” He looked back to make sure James was following.

Not knowing what else to do he followed close behind the man, watching his long-slender legs rise and fall as they strode across the fields and toward the village. They walked and walked, but never seemed to come any closer to the houses. Grass and rocks, small ponds, and flowers all passed by as they journeyed, so James knew they were moving.

The sun, high in the sky and larger than usual, soon began to shrink. They walked on and on as a sense of night fell over the lands; the village seemed further away. James looked up at the sky and saw that rather than the sun going down, it instead slowly turned into a moon as they continued.

In no time, it was dark. So dark, the black silhouette of the man in front of him began to slowly fade away. The village had no lights, nor did the moon. The eerie violin in the distance began to sound further away, playing a soft song that made James wish he were home in his bed. How long would they keep walking?

A large bell sounded off in the distance from above. James quickly looked up to see that the moon in the sky was a brilliant blue. There were no stars, no clouds, and no wind in the night. It began to feel cold again.

As James looked back to the man, he was gone. Was it by the darkness, or did he disappear? James hadn’t a clue. A sweet smell crept under his nose. The grass under his foot became soft dirt. The only sound in the night was the light swish of water running down stream.

Young James had made it to the River. He couldn’t see anything, only hear and smell the sweet river water by in front of him. A voice from a few feet ahead called out, “Master James; yes, step forward. We’ve been expecting you now.”

Reluctantly, James took a small step toward the voice and felt a wooden surface, rocking ever so slightly, under his foot. “I just want to go home.” James said as fear crept into him. He began to shake violently, then, taking a step back, he fell. “Just let me go!” He shouted.

His voice echoed endlessly. The sound from the river hushed; a loud hum swept over him. “James, please don’t be afraid.” Came the voice again, “It’ll be all right, just hang in with us.”

Tears fell to the ground in a loud thump as James began to cry out, “Get me out of here! I want to go home!” The loud thumping continued rhythmically as James cried. The sound scared him out of his façade, and he quickly wiped his cheeks with his shirt. The thudding sound continued, vibrating the very floor beneath him. “James, stay with us!” The voice cried out again. Everything seemed to turn darker than before. A red light began pulsing in front of his eyes. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

He took another steady step forward: Just dirt, and again: Dirt. James started to run, chasing the deep-red light that seemed to pulse in front of his eyes. Stars glittered as he ran, spiraling around before him as they mixed with the red light. “Master James, we’ve got you. Don’t run. You’re safe with us.” The voice cried out.

The magician? James thought.

The stars and swirls in front of him reminded him of the magician’s magic box. He slowed his pace. “Where are you?” He yelled out as loud as his lungs could carry. “I can’t see!” He came to a complete stop. His feet began rising, his body feeling weightless. The air around him seemed to be blowing down. Was he flying?

Surely not. James thought to himself, breathing heavily. A loud gasp came from all directions, like the audience during the magician’s performance. He looked up; there was a large slit in the sky. Light poured heavily from it; James could see shapes moving from within. His body moved faster and faster towards the bright light above, until he could see on the other side. All it was was a blur.  

Fuzzy shapes of red, green, black, and blue shifted all around him. They seemed to be alive. Steadily they formed into vertical shapes, like sticks. Some were very thin, and the one in red was bigger. Then the black one was the tallest, something oddly-shaped at the top. He was the closest to James, peering over him. The color seemed to be looking at him. Into him.

After a few seconds passed, the strange blur slowly moved away. The colors were people, all huddled around him as he lay on a comfy bed wrapped in warm blankets. Sweat beaded down his brow as he gasped. Cool air filled his lungs, the scent of honey, cinnamon, and spices. He tried to move, but his body seemed as solid as a rock. He didn’t recognize anyone at first. Except the tall black figure.

It’s the magician! James tried to pull himself up again, but failed. His body seemed glued to the bed he lay on and he couldn’t feel any of him limbs. The pillow his head rested on was covered in sweat. “Calm down son, don’t try to move, the medicine is just wearing off. Soon you’ll be able to feel everything again and be good as new.” The magician spoke.

James listened to him and tried to rest his body, although he wasn’t sure if he was really doing it or not; he couldn’t tell. “Where… What happened?” James tried to say, but the sound from his mouth was just a soft moan. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. It was pitch black once more.

“Sir James, please keep your eyes open for us. We can’t have you fall asleep again. It’s just too dangerous.” Said the magician, gently shaking James’ shoulder. This startled James, but he forced himself to keep calm. A warm feeling spread across his head and down his torso until it reached his feet. He could begin to feel his body again. Opening his eyes, James tried to speak again.

“Where am I? What happened?” The words fell out of his mouth in a sharp gasp as a searing pain shot up in his chest. He yelped and jerked, but the magician kept his hand on his shoulder and eased him down.

“Amnesia, as I suspected.” The magician began, “You’re here with your family. Go ahead, look around. Be careful not to move your chest too much.” James glanced sideways around the room, his eyes falling over each person. He saw his mom, his father, sister, uncle, and cousin. “You were in a car accident.” The magician spoke as he rested a palm on James’ forehead. “His temperature has gone down. You’re one lucky man, Master James.”

A loud applause leapt from the family. Just like the audience. James thought to himself. He moved his arms under the blankets, feeling his bandaged chest. It was painful to move, but that was quickly fading. Looking back up at the magician, James noticed the man wore a stethoscope over his shoulder. “Are you the magician?” James asked as he began to move his arm out from under the blanket and to his head.

The man laughed a deep and hearty laugh. “Master James, I am Doctor Robbins. Although, I suppose you could consider me a magician.” He winked, smiling. “Oh, don’t move your arms too much; you have several stitches that haven’t mended yet. It would be best to keep those steady. No worries about your head, you were knocked pretty hard, but no serious damage.” The man’s voice calmed James as he relaxed back into the bed. A warm feeling came over him once more and he smiled.

A lady in a blue dress knelt by his bedside. Gently she took his hand and kissed it. “Oh my baby is alive!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. A small sliver of dried blood crept across her face from her cheek to her ear. James began to tear up as well. At first he didn’t know this lady, but her voice brought a sense of love to his heart. As if he had forgotten all emotions he once previously had.

“Mom…” He tried to say, but it ended in a cut off sob. The rest of the family clapped and cheered again.

The large man in red came over to James’ bed with a small white cup, steam rising from within. “Here my boy, try to drink this.” He held it up to James’ mouth and slightly tipped it. A mint tea; James’ favorite.

James smiled as his senses began to sharpen; the mint tea was like a breath of fresh air as he happily drank. The room was crowded with people. He could see almost all of his family members there, each looking at him with a smile on their face and joy in their heart. A large Christmas tree rose in the back beside a warm fireplace. He soon recognized the room as his living area, and the bed as his couch. All memories returned as the medication wore off.

James began to weep as his family rushed in from all other rooms. There were even relatives he had never met. He laughed, happiness filling his once so empty heart. Everyone took turns hugging and loving on him. “Someday,” James began as he looked at the doctor, “I’ll be a magician just like you.”

The man gave another hearty chuckle as he packed up his instruments and began heading out the door. “Master James, you can do anything you set your heart to.” He said, turning to the boy as he was half-way out the door. On his brief case was a scattered pattern of stars. As he turned, their form shifted into another pattern. James gave his best wave to the man as he left, then settled back into his blankets and sipped his tea. Smiling, his thoughts rose to the stars.  

The magician…

Author's Note

It took me forever to finally finish the story and edit etc. Hope you all enjoyed. I set the genre as fantasy, but it really should be a mix of fantasy/horror/psychological. Let me know if I've made any mistakes :) Also, comment on how well the story pulled you in and kept you held and how it ended etc. Thank you all very much for reading.

The concept is of a boy (James) who finds himself in a coma after a car accident. His mother was driving (Scar on her face); it was an accident. Yet James was hit pretty hard in the head and fell asleep for a few days. The magician etc was all a dream he had conjured to explain all of the noise and shuffling going on about him. All psychological mishap. Sort of like Alice in Wonderland.

Reviews

[Hawkmoon]

great writing!!! elegantly clear language, like Vonnegut. Pulling hats from Rabbits, hahaha is fantastic, and in writing there are many possibilities of logical inversions. Like this one: The only paradox that is a paradox is a paradox that is not a paradox.
A great book on mystical themes, is "The Secret Teachings of All Ages" by Manly Hall.

[Michael Thrower]

Ohh thank you! I will have to check that out now.

[Lover Of Words]

Great write dear sir! This is quite unbelieveable!

[kublakhan27]

I'm not good at reviewing stories but I thought it was pretty compelling, almost trippy (dare I say it) with its Wonderland feel...well done^^

[Michael Thrower]

Thank you thank you! That's how I intended ;D

[kublakhan27]

Right on :)

[That_Girl]

It struck me as fantasy/suspense/heart warming mush. ;)

The suspense was the best part, in my opinion. The confusion in the snow, the mysterious man, the violin... all the way through the journey to the River; all very well penned. Your attention to detail was pretty impressive. You didn't just list s**t off, it was intelligently written.

You know how I am about mushy s**t... luckily this was good mushy s**t. ;)

Very nice, Michael. Truly an enjoyable piece.

[Michael Thrower]

Hahaha awee Avy ;) Thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoyed

[That_Girl]

Always my greatest pleasure, love. :)

[Sid]

Nicely penned, it definitely held my attention and like you said in your comment everything about the magician and other elements were just an illusion created by his mind to escape reality perhaps. Very detailed and very imaginative, I like this story...great write!!

[Michael Thrower]

Haha thank you! I'm glad you caught on! :D Btw, epic profile pic.

[KAOlmsted]

This isn't my typical genre, so I couldn't speak to whether it's fantasy, horror, or psychological...I didn't get much horror from it, though, but the fantasy aspect is prevalent. You've got a really tight story here, Michael. The build-up to the trick is engaging, and, by naming the piece 'The Magician' you give us the sense that this is going to be some fantastic illusion created by a man who has honed his mystical craft...and for a while there, we believe it...the journey through the snow, and then the grass, and the final destination, the river, is detailed without being overly descriptive, which is a very good thing; it leaves a lot of that landscape to the reader's imagination, so, well done there. The denouement is satisfying, in the sense that you allow us to get there at pretty much the same pace as Master James, so we're all discovering this explanation of previous events together. Your last paragraph left a bit of a saccharine taste in my mouth, but that's probably just me...I typically suck on words that tend to taste more bitter ;-) This is a wonderful piece, and the amount of work and care you put into it shows. Extremely well done. Thank you for sharing this with us, Michael.

-kimmer

[Michael Thrower]

Haha wow :D I love your reviews Kimmer ;)

The last paragraph, or ending in general, was a bit rough for me. I wasn't sure HOW to end it, so I just tied it up. I might change it later, who knows.

Thank you for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed :D

[KAOlmsted]

My pleasure, Michael. You're a very talented young man ;-)

[Ana Soo]

This is a good write. A really good one. I got new respect for you sweetheart..

[Michael Thrower]

Hahaha, thank you Ana ;)

[Ana Soo]

*_^

[Nienor Niniel]

This wonderfully-written piece really kept me entertained, while I attempted to figure out what was happening to the main character. Though, I ended up at the conclusion that the coma was the illusion, created by the magician to cover up a trick gone somehow horribly wrong. ;p

When James wakes up and looks around, he sees his family (mom, dad, etc.). But when his mom approaches him (the lady in a blue dress), he appears not to recognize her. That is slightly confusing.

[Michael Thrower]

He recognizes her after she speaks. That why he says mom and begins to tear up. His memory is still induced by the coma, yes, that part was right. Although it wasn't from the magician, but from a car wreck. I like to keep people thinking though ;) So maybe it was O.o

Thank you for reading!

[C.C. Marx]

I like the whole concept of the story....my guess is a coma induced hallucination? Anyways when he woke me off it completely threw me off when I realized where he really was great job

[Michael Thrower]

Yes, that is right :D Glad you caught on, and glad you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)

[C.C. Marx]

Your welcome and it feels good to be right lol :P

[Tabitha t]

The large man in red came over to James’ bed with a small white cup, steam rising from within. “He my boy, try to drink this.” He held it up to James’ mouth and slightly tipped it. A mint tea; James’ favorite. --- I think you meant "here" my boy,

So I understand that it was his fever and injuries that created the illusion. One thing that I am unsure of is the beginning. what i mean is, when he was sitting in the crowd is that where the illuion began? maybe you could add a few more clues.
The writing itself was exceptional. very detailed and mystifying.

[Michael Thrower]

It was all a dream he had while in a coma. At the beginning was just the start of the dream as his family etc came in to see him. Yet, psychologically he created an atmosphere of an audience since he really didn't know what was going on, AKA: Coma. He's a young boy, the image of an auditorium full of people can easily be taken from a room full of people as they watch him die, or hope he DOESN'T die.

Thanks for reading! And thank you for the "He" thing. That was a mistake ;P

[Tabitha t]

very god points and maybe you could somehow ad a few context clues of that explanation in the storyline

[Michael Thrower]

All right, good idea. I'll keep that in mind when I edit it again. Thank you :)