The Magician's Assistant

[7] The First Performance

All Rights Reserved

Chapter Seven:

          I pulled the short material further down on my leg. As soon as I stood straight again, the dress hitched itself up higher. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled.

          “Four minutes until show time, Rachel,” Ruth’s voice reminded me from the entrance of the dressing room.

          My palms began to sweat in nervousness and I gave one final yank on the dress. The red shimmering dress was being impossible to work with. I gave one final tease to my hair and readjusted the way the dress sat on my shoulders. The shoes I was wearing were pinching my toes tightly and I reminded myself that it would be over quickly.

          In the mirror, I watched as William approached me from behind. “You ready?” he grinned.

          It was our first show together. The first job I ever had. The first time I’d be on stage.

          “Sort of,” I let out a breathy laugh.

          “Just breathe, smile, and walk confidently. If you can’t do that, then just don’t come back here after this,” he said, fixing the collar on his black shirt.

          “Way to make me feel better,” I muttered dryly, standing up from the vanity. The dressing room wasn’t fancy, just simple mirrors, a rack of clothes for all of the acts and two bathrooms.

          “No problem,” he replied cheekily, spinning around and heading towards the stage. “Oh, by the way, nice legs.”

          Glowering at his retreating figure, I tugged the dress down again.

          Before the performance that would most likely end my job with William Larkin, I glanced around the room in search of the person I knew wouldn’t be here. “James?” I whispered just in case.

          No response.

          “Let’s go,” William hissed from the side of the stage. Luckily the wall hid him from view of the audience. Al of the lights in the club flicked off and we were left in pitch blackness. He grabbed my arm with his hand and pulled me onto the stage quickly. I couldn’t see a single thing.

          “Up next…” the announcer’s voice boomed throughout the club, “is the renowned magician William Larkin. Let’s give him a warm welcome.”

          The audience clapped and hooted, screaming in excitement. After that, a spotlight beamed on the stage, illuminating William in white light. I stood tall a distance away to his left. I noted that his trademark position was facing the ground in the spotlight, hiding his face from his fedora.

          He stood up from his crouching position and grinned at the audience. His left hand flung in my direction and a spotlight beamed down on my frame. I mustered up a confident smile, holding out my arms and doing jazz hands. Wolf whistles and laughs radiated from the crowd.

          Internally I sighed, glad that I hadn’t gotten tomatoes thrown at me yet.

          Yet.

          William beckoned me closer with the movement of his finger. Obediently, I stepped forward and stood next to his tall body. Readying myself, I held out my hands like he had told me to in rehearsal. With the flick of his wrist, gloves coated my hands. Spinning around me, he tapped my fingers with his left hand, and a rake appeared out of thin air.