The Magician's Daughter -2- by SammyC

The Magician’s Daughter

By SammyC

Chapter Two

“You yawned wide enough to ingest a large woodland creature, Lindsey,” Dad remarked as I moved to cover my mouth. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to start rehearsing so early in the morning, Daddy. I was up until almost 4 A.M. making alterations on this costume,” I explained as I unconsciously pulled down on the hem of the extremely short flounce skirt that barely covered my underpants. “And why did you need me to wear this costume just to block out the act? There’s no one here except the stage manager and that creepy guy hiding in the shadows at the back of the room.” I took a sideways glance at the guy. He was staring lasers at me with his eyes. Creepy!

“Kiddo, even on a Saturday morning in an empty supper club that’s supposed to look like The Copacabana or The Café Carlyle…they wish…showbiz professionals always appear in costume. Especially at your first run-through in a new venue—”

“Dad, you’ve performed at this resort for years. Nothing’s changed. Everyone knows what you look like in civvies—”

“But everyone hasn’t seen you, Jack Ace’s new assistant,” the creepy dude interposed, drawing out his words in a distinct Bronx accent as he walked out of the shadows toward us on the small stage at the front of the room, dodging the two dozen or so tables along the way.

“Lindsey, this is Aaron Felder, the General Manager of the Lodge. Aaron, meet my new assistant, Lindsey.”

“I had originally come down to see if you had added anything new to your act, Jack. I’m pleasantly surprised to see what’s new. A pleasure to meet you, Lindsey. May I say you look marvelous in that costume?”

Aaron Felder was a young man in his late twenties. His admittedly handsome face was framed by a thatch of slicked-back dark brown hair that was redolent with the scent of lemon shaving soap, like the kind Dad uses. He also seemed to have a perpetual smirk on his face. 

I tugged at my skirt again, afraid that my tuck job wasn’t thorough enough. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he was eyeing my smooth, stockinged legs. I blushed.

“Well, I’ve got to make the rounds. Apparently, there’s some hubbub at the stables I’ve got to look into.” He turned to walk away but stopped to face me again. “Speaking of which, do you ride, Lindsey?”

“No, I’ve never been on a horse,” I replied, surprised he would ask.

“Our stables are one of our biggest attractions. Catskill Park has some scenic trails for horse riding. When you have some free time, I’ll be glad to help you get started. I’ve got the perfect gentle horse in mind for you to ride. Think about it. Just ask for me at the front desk. I’m here 24/7.”

“He thinks I’m really a girl,” I whispered to Dad after Aaron left the room.

“Sometimes I think so too, kiddo.”

The rehearsal went smoothly. After all, I’d seen Mom go through all the paces up close and personal for years. Dad’s act hadn’t really changed since he initially hired Mom as an assistant almost 20 years ago. Every prop used in the act was squeezed into the trunk that fit into the back of our station wagon. It had to be off-loaded at every venue on the first day we arrived. The porters would always joke with Dad. “What’s in here? A bunch of anvils?”

My mind wandered to memories of Mom on stage, beautiful and wholesomely sexy in her assistant’s costume, similar to what I was wearing right now. I fumbled the deck of cards I was pretending to fan out to an audience member seated at one of the tables near the stage. As I started to bend down to pick up the scattered cards, Dad stopped me.

“Don’t bend from the waist, Lindsey. You’ll moon the stage manager. Here, I’ll pick them up.”

Dad bent down, stumbled, and suddenly fell forward. I reached out to grab his arm and managed to keep him from face-planting.

“Are you alright?” I was alarmed.

“I got a little dizzy. Must be the start of a summer cold. I’m o.k. Thanks, kiddo.” He brushed some dust off his tuxedo pants and straightened the top hat on his head. 

“You scared me, Daddy.”

He reached out and patted me on my shoulder. “Let’s break for lunch. Maybe I’ll order some matzo ball soup. That’s good for whatever ails you, right?”

After Dad had his matzo ball soup, we went back to the club and waited our turn to rehearse while The Bucky Wilentz Quartet took the stage to play through their daily sound-check. The guitarist kept looking at me, sitting at a table a few rows back while Dad chatted with the stage manager. He flubbed a few jazz chords enough that Bucky, the leader and drummer, stopped playing and yelled, “Concentrate on the music, moron, not her legs!”

Finally, Bucky and his band finished their sound-check and left the stage to us. The guitarist kept his eyes on me all the way to the exit, cradling his Fender ’62 Jazzmaster in both arms. The door slammed into him just as Bucky released it on the way out. I had to laugh. This costume poses some interesting, if annoying, problems. I wish the skirt were longer. 

Since children were often in the audience at the early shows, Dad had come up with a trick that was always a huge hit with kids. A twist on the old rabbit out-of-a-hat illusion. Instead of pulling a live rabbit out of his top hat, Dad would initially feign failure, turning the hat upside down, shaking it, and discovering it was empty. As the child expressed his or her disappointment, Dad would reach in and, after a bit of theatrics, pull out a plush bunny rabbit, hand it over to the delighted child, and place the top hat back on his head. For this trip, Dad had purchased a couple dozen of these made-in-Taiwan plush bunnies at wholesale prices.

Most of Dad’s act comprised close-up card tricks. He would pick out members of the audience and stand by their table. Usually, it was couples, husbands and wives mostly. This was where Dad’s stage patter was an integral part of the magic he executed. He’d chat up the people. Have them introduce themselves (first names only) and say where they were from. While he was acting really chummy, he’d place a card in a man’s jacket pocket or a woman’s purse without them even noticing, thinking he was shaking their hand or patting their shoulder. 

After the audience member selects a card and places it back in the deck, Dad would riffle and shuffle the deck. Dad would then ask what card was picked and attempt to find it in the newly shuffled deck. At first, it looks like he can’t find it. After a few moments of seeming bemusement, Dad asks them to check their pockets. Voila! The audience applauds as the couple are stunned into laughter.

My own part in all of this consisted of distracting the male audience members from Dad’s furtive sleight of hand movements. That and pointing here, there, and everywhere as Dad performed his magic. Hey, it’s a living.

“You’re doing good, kiddo. A couple of more run-throughs and we’ll be ready for opening night on Monday.”

I was making alterations on my other costume (same pattern, just different color) and searching my sewing kit for a thimble. I’d pricked myself with a needle. Fortunately, I hadn’t drawn blood…much. 

“Lindsey, it’s almost six. Why don’t you go downstairs and get some dinner? You can finish that later tonight.”

“What about you, Dad?”

“I’m a little under the weather. Let me take a nap. I’ll order something up later. Some more matzo ball soup. Don’t bring back a doggy bag for me. You know what? Why don’t you check out that teenage lounge after dinner? Who knows? Maybe you’ll make a friend.”

“Dad, you’re a one-note symphony. This is a job, not a social occasion. Anyway, most of the guests are only here for a few days or a week at the most. What’s the point of trying to make friends?”

“I bet they play music more to your liking. You can sit and watch the other kids dancing.” I gave him a look of annoyance. “O.k., o.k. Suit yourself.”

I changed into my boy clothes. It didn’t make much difference though. With my flared pants, striped t-shirt and long auburn hair, I wasn’t too convincing as a boy. On my way to the dining room, more than a couple of men chivalrously allowed me to pass them in the hallways and opened doors for me. It was nice, actually.

At this early hour, the dining room was half empty. As the hostess led me to a table, Jeremy Ross waved to me. He was seated with his grandmother at a table off to the side of the room, next to a potted plant. 

“Lindsey! Sit with us. Please.”

I hesitated before signaling to the hostess that I was going to sit with Jeremy and his grandmother. After I sat down, she followed me and placed the menu in front of me.

“Hello Jeremy and…uh…”

“Call me Elena. Jeremy was hoping to see you at dinner tonight. The boy couldn’t stop talking about you all day today. ‘Grandma, do you think we’ll bump into Lindsey today?’ I told him if it’s in the stars… Oh, I’m embarrassing you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Elena. My father wants me to make friends my own age while we’re performing at the Lodge these next few weeks.”

“I thought so, Grandma! She is Jack Ace’s daughter! And you led me to believe you were just his assistant.”

“I didn’t mean to deceive you. I just…well, it’s not important why I didn’t tell you. You know now.”

After an awkward silence, Elena picked up the conversation.

“So, do you have a boyfriend back home? I would think so. You’re very pretty.”

“Oh, no. And I don’t think anyone’s ever told me I’m pretty.”

Jeremy interjected, “I told her she was beautiful. That’s better than pretty.”

“I gather you like dressing down when you’re off-stage,” noted Elena, as our waitress approached the table to take our orders.

“I’m not a girly girl,” I said, my face reddening as I recognized the irony of my statement.

“We’re having the Prime Rib, with the Honeydew Melon appetizer, Egg Drop Consommé Soup, and the Chef’s Salad. It’s quite good. Highly recommended,” Elena said, smiling.

“Wow, that’s a lot to eat.”

“It’s Saturday night. Live a little, I always say.”

I nodded. 

“Three of the same,” Elena told the waitress as we handed our menus to her.

Jeremy invited me to check out the Teen Lounge, but I demurred. His face fell, betraying his disappointment. I explained that I had to make some alterations to my costume. Which was true! 

“Maybe I’ll see you around tomorrow?”

“One never knows, do one?” I laughed. “But, really, Dad and I will be rehearsing pretty much all day. I’m new at this. In fact, this is the first time I’m assisting him.”

“Well, then Grandma and I will absolutely be there on Monday for opening night. Maybe we can do something during the day next week. We’re here for the summer. It’s Grandma’s summer home away from home, kind of.”

“Good night, Jeremy.” I extended my hand to shake.

When I came back to our room, Dad was eating the dinner he’d ordered and watching All in the Family on the TV. He was laughing at some rant Archie Bunker was going off on.

“Dad, that’s a rerun.”

“When would I get a chance to watch prime time TV, kiddo? Hey, this show is funny as hell.”

“You feeling better, Dad? I see you’ve regained your appetite.”

“Speaking of which, how was your dinner?”

“Filling. Filling is the right word. I hope I can fit into my costume tomorrow.”

“Oh, Lindsey, you’re a slip of a…you’re skinny.”

“That boy Jeremy invited me to the Teen Lounge after dinner.”

“You didn’t go? Why?”

“Dad, I’m a boy! He thinks I’m a girl. He and his grandmother asked me if I had a boyfriend. I couldn’t tell them the truth.”

“God in heaven, Lindsey. Sometimes even I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.”

“I’ll be a girl for the act, but come September, I’ll go back to being a boy.”

“I wish I was really a magician, kiddo. I’d turn you into a girl. Yes, I would.”

The End of Chapter Two