Goldie Vance--The Hocus-Pocus Hoax

by Lilliam Rivera

  Now for the real question: Do I wear my blue capri pants or my other blue capri pants? It’s a tough call. I want to look cute but not too dressed up. I need comfort but can’t look as if I’ve been working all day. I stare at my closet, where a rack of capri pants hang. So many options.

  “Talk to me, capris. Which one of you should I wear?”

  I run my fingers over a few pairs of pants and then stop. This pair is calling to me. I make the obvious choice and pick the capris that make me happy. (Truth be told, all capris make me happy. They’re the best! They let my ankles breathe, they have pockets for all my important tools—including Mr. Oculus—and they’re so dang comfortable.) I change into my chosen outfit—a short-sleeved blue button-up and a yellow-and-pink striped sweater-vest. Done.

  I hope Diane will like the magic shows. Afterward, we can meet Cheryl and Rob at the rendezvous. That should be fun! Right?

  Okay, why am I doubting myself? I guess I’m nervous. Me? Nervous? When did that happen?

  “Goldie Vance! Pull yourself together. Today is going to be a great day. And neither Derek nor missing Chakra Cards nor flash papers are going to ruin it,” I say to myself. “Let’s go!”

  Everyone can use a pep talk. Sometimes you have to just give yourself one. I slip my comfortable loafers on and head out the door. The butterflies in my stomach are flying out of control. This happens every time I see Diane. Mom says it’s just nerves and that I should harness the bubbles. Think of it as an energy source. Excitement for the day, she says.

  Bubble energy!

  THE LOBBY IS CROWDED WITH MAGICIANS. THANKFULLY, Derek is nowhere to be found. Then again, neither is Diane. I hope she didn’t change her mind or decide that magic is silly and a waste of time. Oh boy. What if that’s the case and she’s a no-show? What time is it?

  “Goldie!”

  There she is! She’s wearing a black-and-white striped T-shirt tucked into black slacks, and she has a yellow bandanna around her neck, adding just the perfect flash of color to her outfit. Her baby hairs make a very cute curl on the side of her face.

  “You made it,” I say.

  “Hi, Goldie! I’m excited to see some magic. Aren’t you?” Her shoulder bumps into mine, and I’m positive my butterflies do a twirl or two.

  “I am. The schedule’s chock-full of options,” I say, pulling out the pamphlet for her to see. “Because it’s such a beautiful day, I thought it would be nice to catch a show being held in the garden. What do you think?”

  Diane smiles her magnificent smile. I’ve made the right choice!

  “Do you want anything to drink? Maybe a glass of lemonade?” The hotel lobby always has drinks to keep the guests hydrated. I walk Diane over to the station to find Evan replenishing one of the pitchers.

  “Hi, Evan! Do you mind if I pour some lemonade?” I ask, grabbing glasses for Diane and me.

  “Sure thing,” Evan says. “What’s the word from the bird?”

  “Just going to check out some magic shows with Diane.” I introduce them.

  “Nice to meet you, Diane. I hope you don’t fall for this hocus-pocus like most people here,” Evan says. “Nothing is more boring than performers trying to outdo each other.”

  I guess Evan is still annoyed with the magicians.

  “I love all things mysterious,” Diane says. “It’s neat trying to figure out how they do it.”

  Did Diane say she likes mysteries? My heart skips a beat or two.

  “The only mystery is seeing how the magicians’ assistants do all the hard work,” Evan says. “See you around, Goldie. Nice to meet you, Diane.”

  I hand Diane a glass of lemonade. She clinks her glass against mine before taking a sip. I should have made a toast. Next time for sure.

  “Shall we?” I say. Diane nods, placing her empty glass on the table next to mine, and we make our way through the crowded lobby toward the garden.

  I was right. The weather is beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky. It’s not too hot or too cold. Just a sweet breeze stirring the air.

  Out in the garden, the hotel has set up a space with chairs for the audience and a short stage for the magician to perform on. Because I want to see the action, I lead Diane to the front row. That way I can spot if anything goes wrong.

  “Do you know any magic tricks?” I ask.

  Diane shakes her head. “Not really. Truth be told, I’ve never been to a magic show before. This is my first.”

  Is it weird I feel all kinds of pressure now? If this magic show doesn’t deliver the goods, will Diane be disappointed in me? I need to put the kibosh on this thinking. Our date just started and I need to cool it. This is an adventure.

  “A butterfly is saying hello to us.” Diane points to the beautiful monarch butterfly flying above us. “Maybe she wants to enjoy the show, too.” Now, that’s a good sign if ever there was one!

  A magician wearing coattails and a top hat takes the stage. He’s a regular ol’ penguin, just like I was last night.

  “Esteemed guests! You are right where you belong!” he says with a very cute British accent. “My name is Sir Thomas Browne, but my friends call me Sir Thomas Browne. That’s right. Get my name right, I tell them. I am here to astound you, perplex you, confuse you, and ultimately, hopefully, make you smile. Are you ready?”

  The crowd timidly says yes.

  “Hold on a second. My question to you was, Are you ready?”

  This time we all scream a big affirmation. Our “yes” is so loud that Diane and I practically bust a gut.

  Stop the presses! I see him. Derek is walking over to the front row. I want to play dead, but he’s eyeing the empty seat right next to me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Chapter Ten

  “BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER FOR YOU,” DEREK SAYS. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help rolling my eyes. Why is Derek pestering me? I’m right in the middle of my date with Diane!

  “Shhhhh.” I flash him the universal sign for quiet. It only makes him lean closer to ask me a question.

  “I had a very interesting conversation with a”—Derek flips open his notepad—“a Mr. Yahontov. Do you know him? It was a little tricky to get to him, but I was able to persuade a housekeeper with his service-elevator key to let me ride down in exchange for a signed photograph of Dr. Von Thurston.”

  Do I know him? What kind of question is that? Derek is a shadow I never wanted, sort of like an annoying brother.

  “Hi. My name is Diane.” Diane sticks out her hand for Derek to shake. She says this in a whisper-talk, just like Miss Dupart would do. This makes me feel bad. I didn’t introduce them and that was rude, even if Derek is annoying.

  “Sorry about that, Diane—” Before I can do a proper introduction, Derek hands Diane a business card. She takes the card and smiles.

  Sir Thomas Browne starts his first trick. It’s hard to concentrate, what with Derek insisting on talking about Mr. Yahontov and his findings, which are identical to my own. We’re both no closer to solving this mystery. Although, again, there is no mystery according to Walt. Not yet anyway.

  “How do you two know each other?” Diane asks.

  “We don’t know each other,” I say. “He’s a guest. A Crossed Palms Resort guest.”

  Diane raises her eyebrow at my too-quick explanation. I hope she doesn’t think I’m trying to cover something up.

  “Well, Diana, it’s a pretty simple story,” Derek says.

  “Her name is Diane, not Diana.”

  Derek clears his throat and starts over. “Well, Diane, as I was saying, it’s very simple,” he goes on. “We are both on a case together. I’m calling it the Case of the Missing Props. I at first thought of naming it the Case of the Sticky Fingers, but thought that would be too obvious.”

  I find myself shrinking more and more into my chair. Diane is completely confused. I can’t explain it right now, not when there’s a show happening in front of us. Sir Thomas Browne is about to begin a trick involving cups and balls. The magician
invites a man to join him onstage.

  “This is an ancient trick, going back to the Egyptians. If you’ve visited Egypt, then you have surely seen this very same trick etched on a tomb like an informational illustration,” Sir Thomas Browne says. “You doubt me! You shouldn’t. These very fingers traced the ancient sketch. I’ve seen it all.”

  He rubs his forehead and says, “Well, my third eye has seen it all.”

  Diane and I giggle at Sir Thomas Browne’s revelation. I could use a third eye to watch my surroundings while I roll my own eyes at Derek, who is scoffing at the magician’s fanciful declaration.

  “It’s true. I’m a time traveler, and like these mystical red spheres I will ask you to pay close attention to, we will be traveling through space and time,” Sir Thomas Browne says.

  “I only ask that you don’t lose sight of them. Or me,” he adds with a wink.

  While Sir Thomas Browne recites a very imaginative tale involving being stuck in the Sahara Desert with only one glass of water, the red balls disappear and reappear in the three copper cups before him. The man he selected from the audience is unable to follow exactly where the balls land. The crowd is mystified, as am I.

  Derek skips to another page in his notepad and leans over to me.

  “I heard the Sorceress of Wonder is missing a silver ring,” he says. “Coincidence? I think not.”

  Yowza. How did I miss such an important clue? Angela’s ring is still missing from last night’s performance. As Walt once told me, there are no coincidences in our line of business. I can’t believe Derek made that connection before me. Is it possible my sleuthing skills are slipping? No, I can’t allow Derek to ponder this thought for even one second.

  “Of course I know about the missing silver ring,” I say. “It’s on the top of my checklist.”

  “Did you interview the Sorceress? Because she revealed some interesting things to me,” Derek says.

  As I wait with bated breath for him to share what Angela said, Derek places his notepad back in his yellow shirt pocket. Unbelievable. He’s not going to tell me, is he? Fine. I don’t need his help. Or do I? I try my best to concentrate on Sir Thomas Browne. Anger can really cloud a person’s focus.

  “Is everything all right?” Diane whispers in my ear. “You seem distracted. Do you want to leave?”

  Oh no. This is not how our date was supposed to go. I need to turn this attitude around. Not only am I with Diane but I’m also a great detective! If Derek wants to withhold important insight into the Case of the Missing Props, then so be it. As much as I want Derek to put a lid on it, he will not ruin my day.

  “Nope. I’m having a great time,” I say. “Look, Sir Thomas Browne is on to his next trick.”

  Diane wraps her arm around mine and I sort of melt. Forget about what Sir Thomas Browne is doing on that tiny stage. Enchantment is sitting right beside me.

  After the cup-and-ball trick, Sir Thomas Browne thanks the audience member, who sits back in his seat. The magician’s next trick involves coins and a fishbowl. This time a young woman in a pretty, floral dress joins Sir Thomas Browne on the stage.

  “Now, if you don’t mind just sitting right here. You don’t have to do a thing—just hold this empty fishbowl,” Sir Thomas Browne says. The woman immediately starts laughing uncontrollably. I think the British accent is getting to her. Also, her nerves. I understand the feeling.

  “I’m sorry!” the woman in the floral dress says as she tries to compose herself. “I can’t help myself.”

  “Some people have said they can never take me seriously, but I didn’t know how far this sentiment went until now,” Sir Thomas Browne jokes, which leads the woman to have another laughing fit. The funny thing is when someone starts busting a gut like that, it often becomes contagious. Everyone in the small crowd begins to laugh along with her, including Diane and me. But not Derek. He’s employing hawk eyes instead, staring intensely at the stage. I wonder if Derek ever relaxes.

  “Are you missing something?” I ask. “Like a sense of humor?”

  Derek shakes his head.

  “I’ve seen this trick countless times. The old silver-coin trick,” he says. “My father is far better at it.”

  I wonder what it’s like to grow up with a magician and always be so aware of tricks instead of just enjoying them. Every time Sir Thomas Browne finds another silver coin behind the laughing woman’s ear and drops it into the fishbowl, I smile. I guess I was sort of like Derek when I first saw his father’s TV show, back when I was a kid. I just wanted to know how he did it. Watching Sir Thomas Browne with Diane reminds me it’s okay to let go of the how and just enjoy the performance for what it is: pure entertainment.

  “You think Grand Illusions sells this trick?” Diane jokes. “I could use a fishbowl with everlasting coins.”

  “Coins we can use to play the jukebox at the diner,” I say. Diane agrees.

  Soon enough, the fishbowl is filled to the brim and I’m in awe. What an amazing trick.

  “And now, esteemed guests, our time together is quickly coming to an end,” Sir Thomas Browne announces. “Before we depart, I think it’s important we address the elephant in the room.”

  Diane and I look at each other. What is he talking about?

  “You have been staring at my hat. It’s hard not to. This hat has been with me for centuries,” he says. “Remember, I’m quite the time traveler, and if I recall correctly, only the finest haberdasher bestowed this particular top hat upon me.”

  Sir Thomas Browne twirls the hat up into the sky and manages to land it right back on his head.

  “For this next trick, I will need another assistant,” he says. “Who wants to help this time traveler close out the show?

  “Well, what about you—the lady with the short hair and black-and-white striped shirt.” Sir Thomas Browne points in our direction. I didn’t even notice when Diane raised her hand to volunteer.

  “Way to go, Diane!” I cheer. I clap uncontrollably as she stands alongside Sir Thomas Browne. If only I had a camera to capture Diane making her debut as a magician’s assistant. This is quite the auspicious occasion.

  “I hope she’s not allergic to animals,” Derek says.

  “Huh?” I say.

  “Just you wait,” he says mysteriously.

  Sir Thomas Browne asks Diane to take a good look at his top hat.

  “There’s no rush. Give the topper a proper examination,” he says. “I like to be thorough in these times, don’t you? Tell me, Diane, what do you do?”

  Diane examines the top hat for any holes or hidden pockets—anything out of the ordinary.

  “I work at Wax Lips,” she says, looking under the brim. “The record store.”

  After she checks the hat for a few more seconds, Sir Thomas Browne takes it back.

  “Ah, then you must be a musical connoisseur. If you could play music right now, what song would you play?”

  Diane presses her finger to her cheek and thinks hard. “Hmmm. I would play ‘You’ve Got the Magic Touch’ by the Platters, followed by ‘It’s Magic’ by Doris Day.”

  The audience agrees and claps for Diane, as do I. Loudly!

  “The perfect musical accompaniment for our times. As a young lad growing up in the verdant English countryside, I recall many a time listening to the tranquil sounds of the piano played by my mum.”

  As Sir Thomas Browne says this, he begins to move the hat from one hand to the other. He then collapses the hat down and brings it back to life again.

  “Now tell me, Diane, why are you hiding that carrot?”

  Diane smiles in a confused way. “I don’t have a carrot.”

  Sir Thomas Browne looks just as confused as Diane. “Are you sure? This isn’t yours.”

  He lightly taps behind Diane’s right ear and produces a rather large carrot from thin air.

  “Do you mind holding this for a second?” He hands the carrot to Diane. “Are you hungry? Good. We might need that.”

  Diane giggle
s. Sir Thomas Browne places the hat on a small table.

  “And now I will just tap the hat once, twice, and…”

  Sir Thomas Browne places his hand deep into the hat. When he pulls his hand out, he comes up… empty-handed.

  “Umm, excuse me,” Sir Thomas Browne says. “One second.”

  He does it once more. One tap. Two taps. Nothing! Something is wrong. Diane grimaces beside him. Derek stands. He knows something is wrong, too.

  “I’m sorry. I’m missing something very important,” Sir Thomas Browne says. His voice is cracking, changing.

  “My beautiful bunny Esmeralda is missing! Where are ya, Esme?”

  Suddenly, Sir Thomas Browne no longer has a British accent. In fact, he has a strong Brooklyn accent. He collapses to his knees and starts calling out for Esme.

  “For gawd’s sakes, where are you?”

  Some audience members are laughing, thinking this is part of the show. I know it isn’t. Not only is Sir Thomas Browne’s bunny Esme missing but he’s not even from the English countryside. What a time-traveling disaster!

  Chapter Eleven

  “WHERE IS ESME? AND COCO? AND SNOWBALL?!”

  Sir Thomas Browne shouts name after name. I’m guessing those bunnies were all meant to be in his act. The magician is a mess on the floor, searching for his beloved bunnies. There’s not a shred of English nobility or the like from him, which makes the scene even more jarring.

  “Who took her?”

  Sir Thomas Browne has tears in his eyes, and that’s my cue to get a handle on this situation. I run up to the stage and make a quick announcement.

  “Folks, this show is at its end. Another magical performance can be found right across the way.” I point to another show being conducted at the same time. “If you head over now, I’m sure you’ll be able to catch the final act.”

  Diane is down on her knees, helping Sir Thomas Browne in his search.

  “When’s the last time you saw Esme?” Derek is behind me, already interviewing the distraught Sir Thomas Browne. I’ve got to put a stop to that. He’s not the assistant house detective. I am!