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The Magic Trick
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The Magic Trick |
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Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada 
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The Magic Trick 978 words Ken Armstrong was a small man in this world, one of the millions who live their little lives with every moment and every problem as important to them as to the great tycoons of the nation. Ken had been the sole support of his widowed mother up to and beyond an age when a man usually marries. His mother’s passing had left him stranded, helpless in the loss of her dynamic personality, and quite unable to cope with the simplest afar is outside of his comparatively inconspicuous place in an office at the back of the town’s hardware store so when Lynn Deeley began to take notice of Ken in his perplexity, she started to fill the vacuum in his life created by the loss of his mother. It was not long before Lynn put the idea into Ken’s head that a permanent partnership would be the best thing all around, especially as Ken had a steady position, and a paid-for home even if it was rather small, it was it now his very own. He seemed to promise a regular meal ticket in Lynn’s opinion. Lynn was determined and practically pushed Ken up to the alter, and it was only little more than a year later, a daughter, Nicole entered his world. Here the family rested, there to be no more additions as Lynn dictated. Time went on and Ken’s life seemed to differ very little from that previous to his mother’s death. Day followed day with monotonous regularity and lack of unusual interests. Nicole was not a particularly lively child, and he thought perhaps her mother’s dominating character precluded this. She eagerly sought attentions from her father, as much a respite from the other side of the picture. In fact, Lynn started more and more to resemble Ken’s mother in her ways. It has often been said that some men marry with their mother’s image if not in front of their eyes, then in their subconscious minds, and Ken was no exception to this view. Married life continued as a mere extension to what it had been in the past. “Well,” he would muse dolefully, though he sometimes chuckled at his own bizarre thoughts of the simile, “I have made my bed and so must lie on it.” It was his habit after supper each day that he lit his pipe while still at the table, sitting across from little Nichole, and always he set light to the paper napkin in his saucer. Why he continually performed this act was obscure, but Nicole was always delighted, crying out in perfect glee and capping her hands. “Oh, Daddy, I can’t see you; you’ve disappeared.” Lynn always imposed her authority over this scene but could never seem to squash it. She would tell Ken not to excite the child and not to make such a mess on the table. He wondered sometimes why Nicole always said that she could not see him! Could there be any chemical in the napkin that really made him invisible? Or would it be light refraction that had something to do with it? As long as the napkin was ignited he seemed invisible to her for quite a period of time even after it was extinguished. He tried this trick again the following evening with two napkins, with the same results, and Nicole delighted that her Daddy had once again disappeared and this time for even a longer period of time. Two weeks passed, and Ken was home with a bad cold, sitting in the living room with is feet in a large bowl of hot water and a dash of mustard. The bowl was on the floor on a spread of newspapers, and he had several paper napkins at his elbow, having run out of Kleenex. He decided to experiment on a larger scale than he did at the dinner table. This time, he would ignite several of the napkins all at once. It would be quite safe over the water bowl. Setting the match to the floating pile, they flared up before his eyes and he sought to look at the objects across the room. It was at this very moment that Lynn’s large bulk of a figure loomed in the doorway. Seeing the rising mass of flame and vapour in her living room she was absolutely furious! “Ken, what are you doing? Why are you making such a mess of everything with all that smoke and smudge? I can’t find you anywhere. Come back here right this minute and take care of that nasty cold of yours, and don’t let me catch you doing any more of your silly old tricks, and making such a mess again. Ken, where are you, I am talking to you?” She began talking to herself about how she should not have married him just for the security of having been looked after into her old age. Well at least she was used to “his silly old tricks” and had learned he did it on a regular basis. Ken, behind his vapour barrier, for once realized his real position in his own home, and Lynn’s scheme of things. He knew he was now destined to be married to her forever, but he didn’t have to be around her all the time, and he now was formulating his plan to get away from her domination forever. ‘Invisible, eh! He muttered. “She can’t see me? Thinks I have disappeared, eh! Well, I wonder, if this is not the best idea that I ever have had? He knew where to get his hands on cases of these napkins and would make that call in the morning. I’ll talk it over with Nicole one day very soon when she is old enough to understand, and share me secret so we can perform this magic trick together.” Nothing means more to me than faith, family and my friends.  Proud Canadian [This message has been edited by Nan (07-24-2002 08:43 PM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I read this story the other day, and it stuck with me, so much so I wanted to come back and say, "thank you" for the reality of the illusions... |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
I just read this and your other posting about the picnic...and what strikes me is how you can put yourself in so many places and write about it like it really happened. Loved the vocab and language of the picnic prose...I assume that was one of your famous, see a picture and be inspired?  and this was full of ironys and analogies of lifes lessons. You take me places Ive not been in your writing...and do it in your unique style. Well done poetess( and prosetess)*L*  |
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