Just a Little Magic Ch. 01

This is a bit of a departure for me; I've never written in this genre (mind control) before. I do plan on giving it a twist, though. Please note: this story is not meant to be taken seriously. It may require a little 'suspension of disbelief'. Hope you'll like it anyway.

There are also no references to Covid-19 or any American Presidents. It's a fantasy, too.

Just a warning: I spent quite a bit of time listening to Jethro Tull's 'Thick as a Brick' album while I wrote this.

Oh - and no one in this story has sex before the age of 18. Especially the main character. Thanks again to my excellent editors, Alianath Iriad and Lastman416. One is a frontline health-care worker; the other is married to one.

Any remaining errors are mine.

***

March 15th, 2015

- "I'm Batman."

- "I'm Batman. You're Robin."

- "In your dreams."

It was my 13th birthday. My best friend, Sammy, was over at my house to help me celebrate, by playing video games, and arguing over who was Batman - after which we intended to gorge on cake and ice cream.

We were both still doing our best Christian Bale growls when the doorbell rang.

By the time I opened the door, the UPS delivery guy (in his brown suit) was already on his way back to his van, parked in front of my house.

He'd left a package on the porch.

- "Who's it for?" asked Sammy.

- "Me. I think."

I'd never had a package addressed to me before. I had to double check.

- "What is it?" asked Sammy. If Captain Obvious needed a sidekick, Sammy would have had the inside track on that job.

I carried it into the living room.

"Is it for your birthday?" said Sammy.

- "See?" I said. "That's why you're Robin. How the hell should I know, until I open it?"

- "So open it."

I needed a pair of scissors, but eventually, with Sammy's help (consisting mostly of unnecessary advice) I got it open.

There was a lot of bubble wrap, a DVD, and an envelope. Inside the envelope was a card. It said 'Happy Birthday' - that was all.

- "Who's it from?"

- "I don't know. There's no signature."

Curiosity got the better of us. We popped the DVD into the player, and played it.

It was about magicians. Well, illusionists.

Some guy named David Blaine had himself buried alive for 7 days, then encased in a block of ice for 63 hours - and then he caught a bullet in a small metal cup held in his mouth.

- "Whoa ..." said Sammy.

Then we watched bits by David Copperfield, Criss Angel, Lance Burton, and Apollo Robbins. Robbins was my immediate favourite; his routines didn't take long, and there was no excessive buildup.

Basically, he picked the pockets of people who volunteered to participate in his magic show. He stole from their pockets, purses, wrists, necks, and fingers. Then he returned the pilfered objects in clever and unusual ways.

Finally, there was footage of Penn and Teller. We both laughed aloud, watching those two perform. I loved their nail gun routine. They made magic fun, as well as mysterious.

The DVD was an hour long. We watched the whole thing from beginning to end, without a break.

- "That was so cool." said Sammy. "But ... who was it from?"

- "I have no idea."

I really didn't. I swore Sammy to secrecy, and then waited to see if my parents would confess to having sent the package. I mean, who else could it be?

Mom got home from work, and immediately came up to check on us.

- "Hello Sammy. Happy birthday, Peter." She came over to give me a kiss on the cheek. "What kind of trouble are you two getting into?"

- "Just watching a DVD, Mrs. G.." said Sammy, with a wink at me.

- "That's nice." said my Mom. "Dinner in an hour, okay?"

- "Sure, Mom. Thanks."

- "It wasn't her." said Sammy, the moment she left my room.

- "Duh."

- "So who was it?"

It wasn't my Dad, either. He got home from work just as we were finishing dinner.

- "Sorry I'm late." he said. "Happy birthday, champ." He gave me a boxed set of the entire Narnia series - the books.

- "Thanks, Dad."

***

I tried. I racked my brain to think of who it might be. Grandpa Grey sent me a card with $20 inside, so the DVD wasn't from him.

- "You have a secret admirer." said Sammy.

- "Why would they think that I like magic?"

- "Well .. you do now."

- "Okay. But how did they - whoever it was - know that I would?"

- "Lucky guess?"

Whoever it was, and whatever the reason, I got interested in magic and magicians. I searched online, and found more videos. David Blaine, Apollo Robbins, Penn & Teller, David Copperfield ... and then Shin Lim absolutely blew me away.

I saw an interview with Lance Burton, where he explained how he got his start: as a kid, he saw a magic show, and was astonished when the magician pulled coins out of his (Lance's) ears.

He immediately went out and bought a book entitled 'Magic Made Easy', and learned all 10 tricks in it. Then he started performing for the kids in his neighbourhood, charging 5 cents each.

When I told Sammy about it, he got excited.

- "We could totally do that! We could learn magic!"

- "And then charge five cents for a magic show?"

- "No - we could score chicks!"

Sammy and I had some serious discussions. Could we learn magic? Would it look cool, or cheesy? And, of course, would girls be impressed?

I was a tall, skinny nerd with limited social skills. Sammy was a short, round bundle of enthusiasm. Neither of us was what you might call a chick magnet, at 13.

We talked about it a lot - well, Sammy did. Meanwhile, I watched more magic.

***

March 15, 2016

On my 14th birthday, another package arrived at my door.

It contained nothing but a book. It was an instruction manual which explained how to do simple magic tricks - basic stuff, like the floating card, the vanishing coin, and bending a spoon. Once again, there was nothing to indicate who had sent it.

I didn't tell Sammy right away. Instead, I kept it a secret, and practiced the tricks until I was able to do three or four of them. Then I tried them out on my best buddy. He was fairly impressed.

- "Holy shit! How did you do that? Show me! Can you teach me how?"

Sammy was really excited. He wanted to learn, so I showed him. They were just tricks, of course - not 'real' magic that left me with my mouth open, wondering how it was even possible.

It turned out that Sammy was a ham-fisted butterfingers. He didn't have the patience to practice over and over, either; if he couldn't get it right away, he quickly got frustrated. But he was thrilled when I did the tricks, especially when he couldn't see how I'd done it - which happened about half the time.

I practiced even harder. When I thought that I was ready, I tried out bending the spoon on my Mom.

It worked - quite well, if you asked me.

But Mom surprised me by bursting into tears, and rushing from the kitchen.

I felt awful, and went after her - into her bedroom - to apologize. I didn't know what I'd done to upset her, but I told her I was sorry anyway. Mom wouldn't say why she was crying, and she wouldn't answer any of my questions.

- "Was it the spoon, Mom?" I asked. "I can do a card trick, instead, if you want."

She started crying again, and pushed me out of her room, shutting the door behind me.

I had no idea what I'd done wrong. When Dad got home, I tried the spoon trick on him.

- "That's awesome, Pete!" he said. "Where did you learn that?"

- "Ah, you know - online."

- "Got any more?"

I showed my Dad the floating card. "That's great!" He was really supportive, and encouraged me to learn me even more.

So what was up with Mom?

***

I practiced harder, to impress Sammy and my Dad. They both agreed that I was getting pretty good. It was Sammy who suggested that I start doing tricks at school.

Even though he was short and chubby, Sammy had confidence to burn. He wanted me to do tricks, to impress the girls. But I was just too geeky, and too shy.

- "Dude - you have to step up!"

Somehow, I made it to 15. March 15, 2017.

On my birthday - you guessed it - a package arrived at my door. I still didn't know who was sending me these things (all connected to magic). It wasn't my parents, or my grandparents. I was more curious than ever to know who it was - but there was no return address, no way to find out who was paying for a package to be delivered on my birthday.

This time, it was a book about more advanced magic, that didn't rely entirely on sleight of hand. Mentalist tricks.

For example, the 'force'. A mentalist could memorize a passage from a book, and then offer a 'volunteer from the audience' a choice of 2 or 3 books.

If they pick the right book, you take it up. If they choose the wrong book, you push it aside, and ask them to choose again. It's simple enough to eliminate the 'wrong' choices, and 'force' them to select the book you want.

When you get to the book in question, you ask them to call out "Stop!" as you flip through the pages - of course, you stop at the page you want, and hand them the book. Then you can let them read the 1st word ... after which you recite the passage you've memorized.

Simple stuff. But I also learned about the magic number 1089.

Pick a three-digit number, where the 1st number is at least 2 numbers higher than the 3rd. Say, for example ... 831.

Reverse it. 138.

Now subtract the smaller number from the larger. 831 - 138 = 693.

Take the new number - 693 - and reverse it.

396. Now add the two numbers together. You get 1089.

Try a different three-digit number. 472?

Reverse it. 274.

Subtract the lower from the greater. 472 -274 = 198.

The reverse of 198 is 891. Add the two together ... yep, 1089.

So I can let my 'volunteer' choose any three-digit number, and then play with it to get to 1089. Use a book, turn to page 108, and then tell them the 9th word before they can read it. For added effect, write the word down, and pass it to your volunteer before you even ask them to choose a number.

1089 is amazing. I can memorize the 9th word on page 108 from several books, and let an audience member choose whichever one they like - no force.

Check this out:

1x1089=1089

2x2178

3x3267

4x4356

5x5445

6x6534

7x7623

8x8712

9x1089=9801

Take a close look at each column, going up and down. Cool, right?

I really liked the mentalist tricks, because they didn't rely entirely on sleight of hand. Sammy was terrible at manipulating small objects; I was ... mediocre, at best. That's not false modesty; even with all my practicing, I just wasn't that good at it.

The thing that made me feel better was finding out that Harry Houdini was only 'decent' as a card performer. He only found true success as an escape artist.

I felt much more comfortable doing the mentalist tricks. Sammy even convinced me to try out a few at school.

It did impress some people. Not the jocks, or the brainiacs - I was stealing the spotlight from them (however briefly). The jocks just scoffed, and the brains tried to explain what I was doing. But plenty of others thought it was cool.

Unfortunately, it got harder and harder to keep coming up with new tricks. I couldn't keep going to the well; you can wear out 1089 pretty quickly. There's more variety in card tricks using mentalism, but after 3 or 4 your audience starts to lose interest.

I wasn't a magician - just a nerdy kid who knew a few tricks.

There was one cute girl - Sandy was her name - who asked if I could 'perform' at her birthday party.

- "Umm ... sure. Uh - can I bring my assistant?" Sammy would never have forgiven me if I'd forgotten to ask.

- "Oh. Yeah. I guess so." Sandy gave me her address.

Sammy was - predictably - over the moon. "Oh boy oh boy oh boy!" he kept repeating.

Sandy's party consisted of two guys (not counting Sammy and me), and eight other girls. Now a room full of 14 and 15 year old girls may not seem like a big deal to you - unless you're a 15 year old guy.

- "Oh boy oh boy oh boy ..." Sammy just wouldn't stop.

I was really nervous. I muffed the first trick, and had to start over. One of the guys started to laugh, and make fun of me. Sandy stepped in and told him to stop.

The mentalist stuff went well. I nailed all of those. Sandy had already seen most of them, but most of her guests didn't go to our school, and they were reasonably impressed. It was a real rush to see their reactions: blank faces, and then open-mouthed astonishment.

- "No way!"

- "How'd he do that?"

One girl - I think her name was Michelle - even came over to talk me afterwards.

- "How did you learn to do that?" she asked.

I wasn't about to admit the real answer: magic books and the internet. So I tried to play it cool. "Family secrets. "

She gave me a long look. "You're very mysterious." she said.

Sandy's mother hustled Sammy and me into the kitchen, where she served us soft drinks and cupcakes with icing. She wasn't ready to cut the birthday cake. The moment we were done, she thanked us, pressed a $10 dollar bill into my hand, and hustled us out the door.

- "Dude!" said Sammy. "You should totally have asked that girl out!"

- "Michelle?"

- "She said you were mysterious. Don't you know what that means?"

- "That I'm mysterious?"

- "Puh-lease. You? That chick was into you. Seriously, you should ask Sandy for her number. Call her up."

- "I'm too ... nervous." I admitted. We both knew it. "Besides, how mysterious is it to ask a girl out, and then meet her at the bus stop?"

- "Other people do it! You don't have to go out go out - you could invite her over to your house."

- "Want to come up to my room and see some magic? I dunno, Sammy - sounds creepy to me."

- "You're just chicken." he complained. Even when I passed him $5, he wouldn't stop nagging me about 'wasting opportunities'.

***

March 15, 2018

I have to admit it: I was expecting a package. Even though I still had no clue who was sending me birthday gifts, I guess I was beginning to take them for granted.

It was quite a disappointment when nothing came.

- "Maybe it's not a package, this time." said Sammy. He went outside, and opened our mailbox. Then he came back in, triumphantly waving a white envelope.

He passed it to me.

Inside was a gift certificate for a magic shop downtown.

"$250!" exclaimed Sammy. "Holy shit!

- "There's a note, too." I said.

Happy birthday, Pete. Keep practicing.

- "Two hundred and fifty bucks!" said Sammy. "Why can't I have a secret admirer?"

Keep practicing. How on earth did they know - whoever they were - that I'd been practicing? Was it just a lucky guess? Or was this from somebody that I knew?

"Dude." said Sammy. "Check the envelope. No stamp. Somebody hand-delivered this. Which means that they live somewhere nearby."

"Dun-dun-dun ..."

I was overcome with curiosity. Who could it be?

It wasn't my Mom. She hadn't cried again, but then, I hadn't practiced any tricks on her since that first time. If she didn't like magic, it was highly unlikely that she was giving me this stuff. Besides, the Mom I knew couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

Dad? We weren't all that close, to tell the truth. He'd been impressed with my first simple tricks, but over the past couple of years, he'd seemed ... distracted, I guess. How many fathers have time for their 15 or 16 year-old sons?

My grandfather? He'd never spent more than $20 on my birthday or Christmas - when he remembered. I didn't hold it against him; I just hadn't expected much from him since I was a little kid. It was hard to believe that he could be behind these gifts.

- "Enough worrying." said Sammy. "Let's spend this sucker!"

- "Alright, Robin."

- "I'm Batman! You're Robin."

Sammy wanted to buy every single gag item they had. He had dreams of pulling pranks on his family, and on a select group of bullies and assholes at schools. I bought him a whoopee cushion and some other gadgets.

For myself, I got two books on mentalist tricks, plus David Blaine's Mysterious Stranger: A Book of Magic (2002). It was part autobiography, part how-to instruction book on performing magic tricks - and it included a treasure hunt that you could solve without leaving your house (I found out later that some girl had solved it a year and a half after the book came out).

I read all the things I'd bought, and then read even more online. I especially enjoyed watching episodes of Penn & Teller's 'Fool Us'.

But I didn't do magic at school much anymore. I was going through an awkward growth spurt, and my hand-eye coordination was slow to catch up.

I was also extremely self-conscious around girls. I just couldn't help it. Nerves, hormones ... whatever it was made for a mostly miserable year.

On my 17th birthday, I got another hand-delivered envelope, with another gift certificate. There was a note, too. It said: Happy Birthday, Peter. Don't stop practicing. Your time will come.

I wished that I could share my anonymous benefactor's confidence. I did practice some more, and even learned a few new tricks. But it was hard to get excited about it, when my audience consisted of one other person.

***

March 15, 2020 changed my life. Completely and irrevocably.

I turned 18, and wondered if my secret admirer / fairy godmother was still out there. If so, they must have been seriously disappointed in me. But maybe ... maybe they were going to send me something else.

The one thing I did different this particular year was to tell Sammy to stay home.

- "Dude. Really?"

- "I'll tell you the truth, Sammy. I'm ... I'm afraid there won't be anything this year. And if that's the case ... well, handling my own disappointment will be more than enough. I don't want to deal with yours, as well."

He got it. Sammy might be a mixed blessing, on some occasions, but he was a true friend. He understood.

"If it's something good, you know I'll tell you right away."

- "I know, Pete." he said. "Okay - see you tomorrow?"

- "Of course."

- "Okay, Robin. See you then."

- "Hah! I'm Batman."

I was determined that I wouldn't sit downstairs, watching the window, hoping that a delivery van would pull up in front of my house. I started watching 'Fool Us', and tried not to lean back, to look out my bedroom window.

It must have been a decent episode - I was engrossed enough that the ringing of our doorbell caught me by surprise.

I pulled off my headset, and lunged out of my chair. I nearly crippled myself coming down the stairs. But I managed to get to the front door in one piece.

I yanked it open.

There, on our front step, stood the hottest girl I'd ever seen.

Yeah. You've heard that before. But I hadn't.

She was tiny - maybe five feet tall. A little older than me, but not by much. She wore a cute little ribbed ski jacket, that made her look like a miniature Michelin man. But I was mesmerized by her face.

Long, long black hair, spilling down her arms, almost to the elbows. Big brown eyes, perfect nose, perfect teeth, tanned skin ... I was temporarily robbed of the ability to speak.

You would've understood if you could have seen the expression on her lovely face; I'm not sure that I can describe it well enough to do her justice. She was looking me right in the eyes, but hers were almost half-closed. Three quarters open might be more precise.

Was it a challenge, or a dare?

She also had a curious half smile - no, it was less than that. A quarter-smile? It wasn't quite a sneer, or a smirk. Just the most unusual expression ... as if her eyes were wondering if I could measure up to her expectations, while her mouth suggested 'I don't think so'.