Vanishing Act ✔️

7

"That's a lovely name, Melissa," the magician continued. "Now, if you'll just stand right here."

"Carrie," Sean yelled; but Carrie did not hear him. The beefy man turned once more, likely to yell at Sean, but Sean had no time for him. He hopped down from the bench and ran through the audience until he came out the back, out by the magician's sign where he had first entered. He had to find a way around to the stage.

He looked from side to side. A cheap velvet rope stretched out between intermittent brass stanchions lining the back edges of the audience area. All along this route, the audience was pressed in tight. How did this man gather such a large crowd for one random magic show amidst all the attractions of the fair?

"Now watch very closely, everyone," boomed the Great Eric Solomon! "As you can see, there is no trap door." This was followed by a thudding sound, the magician stomping his foot against the stage perhaps. "And there are no mirrors. Nothing but myself, my assistants, and our pretty little volunteer, Melissa. Is that correct, Melissa?"

She may have responded, then, but Sean could not hear her.

On the other side of the ropes, were the backs of other tents and booths. The stanchions wrapped right around to the front of the tents, separating this area out as off limits. Only a few carnies walked there, picking items out of the boxes and crates that littered what had become a back alley of the fair. Sean's eyes darted up that deserted path. Dare he hope – yes he did – that it might lead right up – it just might – to the stage? He definitely did, and as he scoped the path, he knew it to be so. This was his best chance.

Sean darted under the nearest rope and broke out into a full on sprint. He had never run so fast.

"You can't be here, boy!" The shout came from behind.

Sean had time for one look back, and what he saw worried him. A clown, his makeup smeared and half-removed, wearing nothing but a baggy pair of orange pants and giant clown shoes, was running his way. Sean must have caught him prepping to leave for the day. He had never thought of clowns as men on a schedule, like any other job, but this seemed to be the evidence of just that.

"Stop running," the clown shouted.

Sean did no such thing. He picked up pace. The clown had a good two feet height on him, and even wearing those dumb, floppy shoes, he was gaining on Sean. Still, Sean only had a few more feet to go.

Three. Two. One.

Sean leaped up a small set of steps, leading up to the stage. There was a curtain between him and the magician, but he was almost there.

He heard the clack, clack of the giant clown shoes hitting the steps behind him.

Not yet! Not now! I'm so close!

Sean reached for the curtain. He could feel it against his fingers. Then, he felt a sudden pressure yanking him back. The clown had caught up, wrapping his arm around Sean and hoisting him away.

"You can't be back here, boy," the clown said attempting to restrain Sean. Sean's head was pressed up against the clown's hairy chest. The smell of him filled the boy's nostrils and made him gag. The curtain was getting further away as the clown tried to drag him offstage.

"Look below the cloth," the magician bellowed from somewhere behind that curtain. "Notice that the girl has not moved. You can see her feet, and mine. Give the audience a hello, Melissa, and assure them that you're here."

"Hello," the Melissa Carrie said. Quiet and full of wonder.

That sense of dread was building to a crescendo now, pulsating within Sean. It thumped along with his racing heart. Something bad was on the other side of that curtain and it had his sister.

Sean simultaneously slammed his head back and brought up his left foot. The dome of his head caught on the clown's chin, while his foot connected with the clown's knee. The man gasped and let go, just enough. Sean reached out and pulled back the curtain.

There on the stage stood Eric Solomon just behind Carrie. In front of them, two assistants held up a large red cloth about six inches up above the floor of the stage. From the benches, the audience could see nothing but the feet of the magician and the girl. Sean, on the other hand, had a prime view.

"Let go of the cloth," the magician ordered.

The women complied with his demand, yet as they let go the cloth remained in the air. Sean looked for the wires, but he could not find them. The cloth shifted lightly in the breeze, but still it stayed in place, screening Carrie and Eric Solomon from the audience. They were more than a few delighted gasps from the crowd.

The magician looked to Sean and smiled - a deep sinister smile, full of long and yellowed teeth. "And be gone!"

And with that the red cloth dropped and Carrie Anne Garrett vanished. There was no trap door. There was no mirror. She just vanished.

Applause drifted up from the audience. They were clearly impressed with what they thought was nothing but an illusion, a trick concealed by the magician's cloth. Sean knew better; but he also knew no one would ever believe him. As far as anyone knew it had been a girl named Melissa on that stage – a girl for whom no one would come looking.