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The Art of Disappearing

Page 29

by Ivy Pochoda


  I have to stop myself from calling his name. The Toby I want cannot be pulled into the world on my side of the river. Soon, the silhouette of the minivan fades into the night. The only way I’m assured of its presence is the rattle of the engine.

  It’s dark now. The river is indistinguishable from the bank. I can barely make out my boots above the water. As I sit there, trying to feel Toby’s gaze cutting through the night, I realize that he cannot draw me to his side. And now I smile, confident that he never did so in the first place. I relax, as I let our first meeting replay in my head—a chance encounter in an improbable place. Then I hear the windfall of coins in the remote gas station, and I know that this, too, was not his doing.

  I will sit there in the near-presence of my magician until the last moment, but I’m not going to cross over. I will remain in a world governed by chance and coincidence. I want to call out to Toby to tell him that I was right—he has learned to love me more in my absence. And this tells me how truly empty his conjured world is.

  It takes me a few minutes to realize that the engine is no longer humming. The van has not driven away. It is simply gone. I stand up and walk back to Leo’s.

  The Delaware froze late this year. My mother tells me it was waiting for my return. Together we walk down to the riverbank and slide across the ice. We skid past the spot where Max allowed himself to be stolen by the water for the first time. The bright sun makes the thick ice sparkle. Underfoot, the river creaks and groans, settling into its winter skin.

  We slide downstream, letting the ice skaters twirl past our uncoordinated stumbling. We stand in the middle of the river, clinging to each other for balance. We are almost underneath the rusted iron bridge when snow begins to fall. My mother looks up, startled by the absence of clouds. Skaters stop to stare at our private snowstorm. I wriggle out of one of my gloves and hold out my hand to catch the flakes. My back is to the bridge. I wonder if I turn around, will I see the tail end of a brown van disappearing up the road? But I don’t want to look. I just want to close my eyes and imagine the magician and me zigzagging past one another. As the snowflakes hit my face, they turn to tears. But soon, these, too, melt away. Then I take my mother’s hand and urge her onward, away from the improbable snow.

  Acknowledgments

  Abundant thanks to my wonderful agent, Kim Witherspoon, and her assistant, Julie Schilder, whose perseverance on my behalf brought this book into being. Thanks to Hilary Rubin Teeman at St. Martin’s Press, a remarkable editor and a superb reader who understood what I was trying to say. Love and gratitude to Susan Kamil, a spectacular mentor and better friend. Many, many thanks to Mary Kelley and Judyth van Amringe for their creative demonstrations of love and support. And most important, thanks to my parents, Philip and Elizabeth Pochoda, for their patience when they didn’t understand where I was or what I was up to, and their untiring help when I was lost inside my own head and words.

  A Reading Group Guide

  There is an immediate attraction between Toby and Mel. What is it about their characters that draws them to each other? Why do they decide to get married after such a short acquaintance?

  Toby is a capable of both strange and wonderful things. But there is an unknowable and perhaps darker element to his craft. Why is Mel so accepting of this?

  How does Mel’s childhood prepare her for her relationship with Toby?

  This is primarily Mel’s story and not Toby’s. In what ways does she wield power over him? How is Mel capable of her own brand of magic?

  What is it about Toby that draws women to him in Las Vegas? What draws Greta to him?

  What is Mel’s relationship to fabric? What is the function of her quilt? Do you believe that she can actually hear voices in the fabric?

  Las Vegas is a city of heat and Amsterdam is a city of water and rain. How do these climates affect the lives of Toby and Mel?

  The Dissolving World is powerful illusion. What does it represent for Toby? What does it represent for Mel? Does the possibility for their love exist inside this illusion?

  Toby and Theo at one time each possessed extraordinary powers. How do their philosophies of magic differ?

  Compare the fates of Max and Toby. What do you think happens to both of these characters?

  After finishing the book, do you think it is a coincidence that Toby and Mel met at the Old Stand Saloon?

  For more information, visit www.readinggroupgold.com.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  ART OF DISAPPEARING. Copyright © 2009 by Ivy Pochoda. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:

  Pochoda, Ivy.

  The art of disappearing / Ivy Pochoda.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-1-4299-1893-0

  1. Magicians—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3616.O285A89 2009

  813'.6—dc22

  2009016207

 

 

 


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