The drummer landed his sticks on the snare drum playing a tight buzzing roll that hushed the crowd. The four other musicians sat staring at the stage with the rest of the audience in the small boxed shaped auditorium. Each person crammed in tiny metal chairs, rubbing elbows with the person next to them, all waiting for the grand finale.
From behind the long red curtain dressing the stage, a blonde woman with silk tanned skin strutted out onto the stage in a one piece spandex leotard that squeezed all the best parts of her together. A number of men whistled at her appearance. She stopped next to a large trunk sitting on the side of the stage, bent down at the waist with her back to the stage giving the men a reason to howl in excitement. She stood back up holding a long heavy looking metal chain as she struggled to lift it up in the air. She carried them towards the magician standing in the center of the stage. Shirtless with his arms to his side facing the four rows of audience members. The women blushed red at his exposed muscular physique all the way down to his belly button where his spandex pants hugged his waist and stuck tight to his legs continuing down to his bare feet.
A stout man with a pencil thin mustache stood at the bottom of the stage, opposite the band. He lifted up a dull black bullhorn with numerous fingernail scratches in the side to his mouth and shouted, "Ladies and gentlemen. With the help of his beautiful assistant Isabella, The Great Carmichael will defy the laws of the known world, right before your eyes. Don't avert your gaze as you'll be amazed as he's locked in chains then dumped into a tank of water. Will he break the chains in time to escape? Or will he drown and be taken to the afterlife in God's good graces."
Isabella lifted the chains and draped them over Carmichael's shoulders. The chain laid across his chest hanging down to his knees. He took the two sides and crossed them over his chest. Isabella went back to the trunk and pulled out another chain. This one shorter and lighter than the last as she didn't struggle to carry it across the stage. She stood behind Carmichael and wrapped it around his waist. Carmichael grabbed the chain on both ends and pulled it tight around him. "Isabella, now for the locks." he said.
Isabella smiled, went back to the trunk. She bent down, again making the men howl, and pulled two large locks from its depths. She walked to the front of the stage and held them out in front of her. The locks were thick brass with wide arching latches. In the center of each one was a darkened keyhole cut into it. At the sight of them the crowd gasped and rumbled, the drummer accented his roll before everything died down again. Isabella walked across the edge of the stage so the whole audience could see, little murmurs from the crowd as she did.
Once she made it to the end of the stage where the stout announcer sat, she spun around and walked back towards The Great Carmichael. He stood waiting, pulling on the chain around his waist. Isabella made her way in front of him, turned to face him. She rested the latch of the first lock through the hole in the chains, then again for the second. She grabbed the end of the long chain crossed over his chest, pulled it straight and walked it around him. Carmichael held his arms tight against his body. Isabella came around pulling the chain against his other arm until she was back in front of him. She pulled the lock from the hole, stretched the chain tight and set the lock between the two holes, then snapped them shut. She repeated the process with the other end of the chain, scrapping the the chains together until she arrived in front of him, and again snapped in the lock.
"To prove he can't move", the announcer shouted through his bullhorn, "The Great Carmichael, lift up your arms!" Carmichael tried, but his arms would not move. He wiggled and shook, but he was locked into place. "Ladies and gentlemen, the water!"
Isabella walked off the stage through the dark red curtain. Everything stood still as the buzzing of the snare drum filled the silence. Isabella returned pulling a tall tank filled to the top with water. The four wheels on the bottom squeaked with each rotation. She continued to pull it until it was directly behind Carmichael. She laid the rope on the ground and pushed it underneath the tank. She stepped to each corner and locked the wheels in place. After the last one, she went back to the trunk and this time pulled a small step ladder out of it. She carried it behind the tank and set it up out of view of the audience.
Carmichael turned and walked behind the tank. He disappeared for a quick second before his head reappeared over the top of the tank. He continued to step up until his waist was level with the edge. He flung his right leg over, splashing it into the water. He rested it on the edge of the tank, then flung his other leg over and again splashed water over the top, this time raining water down on the front row of the audience. They laughed and giggled with delight.
Isabella removed the ladder and returned it to the trunk. She reached off stage grabbing a tall metal folding screen. She wheeled it towards the tank, pulling it with one hand. She stopped and set it next to the tank where Carmichael was sitting at the top. She unfolded it a section at a time, each one covered in a thin black curtain, straight towards the crowd. Carmichael took a deep breath, pushed himself up and slid into the tank submerging himself underwater. Isabella bent the sections around the tank. The three curtains stretched from the floor of the stage to over the tank by three feet. Each section covered the left, front and right sides, keeping the audience from seeing what was happening behind it. Carmichael floated in the water as Isabella rolled the front curtain in front of him. Then continued around to the right and disappeared behind it all.
Again, the audience didn't make a sound. They all had held their breath as if they were in the tank with The Great Carmichael. Only the buzz roll, that now seemed louder than ever, buzzed throughout the hall putting everyone's stomach in knots and making the hair on the back of their necks stand straight up. The stage was motionless, still as a picture. Not even a drop of water splashed to the ground. Then the curtain started to move.
The left section of curtain rolled toward the front of the stage. A hand gripped the outside of the metal bar. It folded forward onto the front curtain. The muscular arm of Carmichael came into view as it came around the middle of the black curtain. He folded the center section of the curtain over putting himself in full view of the crowd. His body soaked from head to toe, water dripped to the stage floor pooling in tiny puddles underneath him. He stepped aside pushing the final section of curtain with him. The tank uncovered revealing Isabella, inside with the chains locked against her body. The audience jumped to their feet in vigorous applause, the band began to play an adrenaline rushing series of major chords.
Isabella thrashed and kicked in the water. She struggled to free herself, pulling her arms up and down trying to squirm her way out of the chains, but they were too tight and the locks would not break. She jumped towards the surface pedaling her legs to swim to the top, but the chains were too heavy and held her down at the bottom.
Her screams for help only came out as bubbles, a sign she was losing her breath. Her eyes reflecting disbelief as everyone cheered her demise. She pushed herself against the back of the tank and pulled her knees to her chest. In a swift movement she kicked the front of the tank. It didn't budge, it didn't crack. She kicked again, then again. The tank was too strong, it wouldn't even move. She had locked the wheels in place herself.
Isabella started to slow. No more bubbles came from her mouth. She made one last push, but it wasn't enough. One last pleading look out into the crowd, but they just stood and stared waiting for her death. And with one last gasp, her lungs filled with water and her life faded in front of their eyes. Her body pulled down to the bottom, her scared expression pressed against the side of the tank. The band held their last note then cut off. The audience let out a disappointing, "Ahh" as the show came to an end.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for coming. That is the end of our show. Let's hear one last applause for The Great Carmichael!" The audience cheered and clapped once again as Carmichael stepped to the center of the stage and took a bow. The bullhorn voice filled the room, "Please exit in a single file and have a great night."
After that, the stout man put down his bullhorn and picked a towel sitting behind his chair. He carried it up to the stage reaching it out to Carmichael. He took from the man's hand and threw it over his head, drying his hair. "I don't know how you do it, but it's just incredible. incredible." The tuba player approached the stage catching the eye of the man. "Excuse me, I have to get the band their money, but you have someone waiting in the back." Carmichael nodded and continued to dry off.
The stout man rolled off the side of the stage, found his footing on the floor and with his arms open spoke compliments to the band as he walked towards them. Carmichael draped the towel around his neck, where the chains had once laid, and walked behind the stage. Passed the curtain, he walked down a narrow corridor and turned to the side as a pale man dressed all in black pushed a wooden coffin towards the stage. The pale man nodded and flashed a smile of brown teeth. Carmichael nodded back remaining stoic in his expression. After he had passed, Carmichael continued down the corridor towards a door against the wall in the corner. He stopped in front of it, wiped the towel over his face then pushed on the door and opened it.
A small room with a desk a size too big was on the other side, turned at an angle to create a space wide enough for a stout man to get behind it. Sitting in front of it was a wooden chair occupied by a person with straight raven black hair down to their shoulders. Carmichael stepped next to the desk. The chair squeaked as the occupant looked up at him revealing a woman with beautiful dark features, radiant brown eyes and an hour glass curved figure. She looked up and smiled a perfect row of bright white teeth. Carmichael grinned as he leaned against the desk. "So you want to be a magician's assistant?" The woman batted her long curly eyelashes and whispered the word, "Yes." Carmichael held out his hand and she took hers in his. He bowed down and kissed her on her row of fingers, "Then from now on", he raised his head to meet her adoring gaze, and said, "I will call you Isabella."
The End
The Magician