Magic Mansion Read Free Page B

sight of his hero like that of a boy at the height of puberty—exactly like he had that first time. He blinked, once, long and deliberate, and willed himself to pull it together. Strutting through his paces onstage in clingy slacks that showcased a big package was one thing. Flouncing around in front of the producers with a raging hard-on was another.
    Ricardo dropped back and tried to force his body to calm down. He drifted so far upstage, he actually heard the murmur of voices behind the curtain. One voice, he even recognized—the production assistant with the headset mike. “…get through the rest of these idiots. Maybe the cheesy one here’s got something good up his sleeve. If that fucking dinosaur would ever stop pulling scarves out of his ass…”
    Cheesy? Yes, fine, Ricardo had been called worse. But to refer to the great Professor Topaz as a dinosaur?
    How dare he?
    Ricardo spun around and took in the scene around him as if the world had stopped, and only he was still capable of movement. A couple of interns at the edge of the stage flipped through their lists, oblivious to the performers. In the front row, the producers sat with two or three seats between them so as not to inadvertently contaminate one another. One was texting on her cell. The other was occupied with picking a bump on his jaw.
    All this, Ricardo saw as he whirled. He kept on turning, finally coming to a halt when Professor Topaz filled his field of vision. Topaz had exhausted his supply of silks and had moved on to folding mylar birds, pulling them out with flourishes that made them seem as if they would take flight themselves at any moment.
    The Professor’s eyes met Ricardo’s.
    With that single look, the whole day coalesced: the anticipation, the nerves, the humiliation, the sheer effort of holding back…and Ricardo felt himself slip.
    His showman’s smile flickered. He tightened his cheek muscles in an effort to keep it in place. Letting the smile slip wasn’t the worst of it, though.
    In that fraction of a second when things started tanking, Ricardo had allowed his gaze to fall on one of the sparkly pink doves. If anything, a magician should know how to control his face, his body, the attention of his audience, and most of all, his ability. Ricardo had lost control.
    It was beautiful, in its way.
    The pink mylar dove spread its wings wide, and the metallic folds of its body plumped as if something other than just air and clever origami were filling it out. While the other glittery doves had fluttered, this dove, for a brief, shining moment…soared.
    Professor Topaz’s eyes went wide, and he spread his hands to allow the almost-living bird to hover there before his astonished face. But only for a moment. He focused, then, and the bird dropped from the air into his outstretched hands. His eyes met Ricardo’s…and then he went on with the act as if everything was humming along exactly as planned.
    He took a bow, then Ricardo glided to center stage and began juggling two single rings with the linked pair. The inopportune stiffie? No longer an issue.
    _____
    The parking lot outside the audition smelled like the grudging start of autumn and the end of a frat party. Dumpsters lining a nearby alley overflowed with beer bottles and splitting sacks of garbage. The smoggy sky turned darker yet, and a steamy drizzle began to fall.
    “You’ll get a callback by Friday if you make it to the next round.” That was it. That was all the guy’d had to say—with no inflection whatsoever. And Ricardo knew that jerk was capable of speaking with inflection. He’d overheard it loud and clear through the stage curtain.
    Strangely enough, he didn’t even care whether he got into Magic Mansion or not. Offstage, in the commotion of both Mordo the Great and Fabian Swan trying to hustle past with their prop-laden acts, Professor Topaz had managed to simply disappear.
    Ricardo’s stupefied glee over sharing the stage with a living legend warred with his