by John Blaine
“The house is about to have a heart attack,” Barby declared.
Jan chuckled. “Let’s hope it never gets a transplant!”
CHAPTER XVI
The Return of Mysto
It was a gala occasion. Announcements on television and radio, and in newspapers heralded the return Page 96
of the Magnificent Mysto at the House of Illusion. The house was filled to overflowing, with extra tables added in every unused space.
The Camerons had invited the Spindrifters to come as guests, but Hartson Brant protested that they planned to bring five others, and a baker’s dozen was too big a strain to put on Cameron hospitality.
Karen insisted, and settled the discussion with a hurt look and a question. “Aren’t we friends?”
Now the Brants and Millers were at the center of the Phantom Caravan room once more, and with them were the Winstons, Jerry Webster, and Jerry’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Webster.
The Whiteside Morning Record was a member of the Associated Press, and Jerry’s stories and pictures had gone out over AP wires and were picked up by newspapers, and radio and TV stations across the country, a great byline exclusive beat for Jerry. His reports had been the basis for reporter questions at theEwing press conference inNewark on the afternoon of the raid.
Captain Ed Douglas was pleased. The state police had, for once, received the proper share of credit.
Jerry had seen to that.
Rick was enjoying the performance, but he had had a couple of shocks during the day and his mind was not fully on the show.
At his side, Jan laughed as Derek reached into an oversize pocketbook borrowed from a lady he had invited to the stage, and plucked out a live rooster, which he held up, then handed to Tom, the part-time Mongol. It was the lady’s expression that was funny; she stared into her pocketbook in horrified disbelief.
It was hard for Rick to keep from looking at Jan instead of the show. She was stunning in a silvery white dinner dress, her lustrous dark hair set in a style new to her—and to Rick. Her only jewelry was a pair of earrings and an unusual gold pendant at the bottom of a short gold chain.
The pendant, like a slim rectangle rounded at top and bottom, was a cartouche, an Egyptian symbol of identity. Within the slightly raised outer rim were hieroglyphs identical to those found in ancient Egyptian writings. These spelled out, in phonetic Egyptian, ‘Janice Virginia Miller.’ The earrings were much smaller cartouches which said simply, ‘Janice.’ The set was a present from Rick, handmade for Jan when he and Scotty were inEgypt .
The Camerons on stage went through a variety of illusions, from those based on apparatus to pure manipulation. All were new to the Spindrift group because the program changed each week. Rick thought it was a better show than the one on opening night.
Then Derek stepped to the front of the stage. “Guests of the House of Illusion, we have reached the moment you and we have been anticipating. We are honored that the greatest of magicians has come out of retirement to share with us each week an illusion he has created and which only he can perform.
Please welcome the Magnificent Mysto!”
Mysto emerged from the wings in white tie and tails looking every inch the master of illusion. He bowed as the audience greeted him with applause, then bowed again as the applause faded.
“Thank you. Believe me, the sound of applause is, to a performer, as rain is to a desert flower. I will try to earn your applause with a small and gentle illusion.”
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The magician turned toward the wing. “Hassan, if you please?”
Hassan, alias Archy, came from the wing with Tom, carrying what seemed to be white plastic sheets three feet wide and four feet long.
Mysto turned to the audience again. “Before my retirement, I specialized in large illusions such as some of those Derek has shown you tonight. But now, in my later years, I enjoy more intimate fun, leaving the spectacular illusions to the young and strong. Believe me, my friends, what you have seen tonight has required both strength and courage.”
Archy and Tom had unfolded the plastic sheets, which turned out to be a folding table about eight feet long, of shiny white plastic on a framework of white aluminum legs. They placed it center stage, only a few feet back from the footlights.
“We deal in illusion,” Mysto told the crowd. “But magic does exist There is a true magic in our children, and I believe it is strongest between the ages of four and eleven when the world itself seems magic to the fortunate ones, and even the less fortunate can spin webs of dreams and fantasies. I want to call on such a spinner of magic to help me tonight, if there is one among you.”
The house lights came up, and the magician looked out over the audience, searching. Finally he pointed.
“There, at the sixth table to the rear of the right center. Do I see a young lady of about six years? Please, pretty miss, will you help me?”
There was a moment of discussion at the table, then a little blonde moved through the tables to the stairs at right front of the stage and went up to the magician.
Mysto greeted her. “Thank you for coming. Please tell the audience your name, how old you are, and where you live?”
She spoke with surprising clarity. “My name is April Tyler, and I’m seven years old, and I live inSeaford
.”
“Thank you, April. What is your daddy’s name? I see him watching us. And what does he do?”
Again, clearly.“His name is Captain Thomas Tyler and he’s the best fishing captain in the wholeUnited States !”
The audience broke into applause.
Before the applause died, Rick saw that Scotty was having his share of the same problem that kept Rick’s eyes busy. Scotty was having a hard time trying to keep from staring at Barby.
On stage, Archy and Tom brought out a rack on which about twenty fabrics in assorted colors were hanging, each by a comer. Tom went back into the wings and brought out a tall chair, like a bar stool with a back. He placed it behind the white table.
When only Mysto and April were left on the stage, the magician spoke. “What you see are silk scarves—not synthetics, but the natural kind, made by
Chinese silkworms.I’m sure you all know that the silkworm spins his cocoon with yards and yards of silk which is unwound and spun into thread to make silks like those we have tonight.
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“The question on which we base our illusion is this: does the silk, in the form of a scarf, carry any memory of once being a silkworm? If it does, perhaps a little magic can bring it back to an illusion of life as a silkworm once again.”
Mysto took April’s hand and led her to the rack. “April, little helper, I ask you to choose one of these pretty silks, so we can see if it remembers being a silkworm.”
“Can I pick any one I want?”
“Any one at all. Do you have a favorite color?”
“I have two favorites. Blue and gold.”
“Well, I see several shades of blue, but no gold. We do have a yellow, though.”
April looked through the scarfs and finally pulled one toward her. “This one is the blue I like, and it has yellow flowers.”
“Very pretty.Shall it be that one?”
April nodded, and Mysto unclipped it from the rack. “Please unfold it and hold it out so everyone can see it.”
She did so. It was about a yard square.
“Now, April, it’s time for you to take the high seat so you can see everything that’s going on, and be my special assistant.”
The magician lifted her to the high seat, then faced the audience.
“My friends, I must tell you for the sake of accuracy, that a silkworm in the raw, as found in nature, is not a pretty creature. So, if we can make a silkworm from this scarf, it will not look like its ancestors.”
He held the scarf up again and showed both sides. It was simply a square of silken fabric.
Mysto laid the silk out on the table and began to fold. First he folded it double
, then began folding back and forth as though pleating it. When he was finished it was about eighteen inches long and six or seven inches wide.
“First trial.Will the silk cooperate?” He picked up the middle at both ends and lifted the silk into peaks.
When he let go, they collapsed back onto the table, as anyone would expect thin silk to do. He tried again, lifting the middle of the pile and again it collapsed.
Mysto shook his head sadly. “I’ve lost my touch. Our only hope is to be sure the silk has enough little girl magic. April, will you please run the scarf through your hand three times, like this?”
He took one corner of the silk and let it hang, then put his hand around it and made a fist. He pulled the scarf through his fist while holding it tightly.
April caught on quickly. She pulled the scarf through her tight little fist three times, then handed it back.
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“Thank you. I’m sure it has enough little girl magic now to behave. Let us see.”
The magician shook the scarf out, showed it front and back, then laid it out on the table and folded it once more. But this time, when he ran his fingers down the length of the underside, the folded scarf stayed up, like a small tunnel of silk, its edges just touching the table. The audience applauded.
Working quickly, Mysto twisted one end around into a ball, twisted a bit more and tied two scarf ends, and the silkworm had a head with two little ears. A few twists and ties at the other end and the silkworm had a tail projecting out behind. The result looked astonishingly like a long, pretty blue caterpillar with head, tail, and yellow patches. Even more astonishing, it kept its shape.
“Is that a satisfactory silkworm, do you think, April?”
The little girl was sitting with eyes wide and mouth in a perfect O. She nodded vigorously. “It’s beautiful!”
“Thank you. Now let us see if it can perform for us. We want only a well-behaved silkworm.” Mysto had completed the figure at one end of the table. Now he walked to the other end and snapped his fingers. “Come, silkworm.”
The silkwormundulated the length of the table and stopped in front of him. The audience laughed and applauded, and April clapped her hands with pleasure.
“Now turn around, silkworm.” It did so, making a U-turn and straightening out again. “Go to the other end and turn once more, silkworm.” The silken creature obeyed perfectly. There was now long applause.
Mysto asked, “Do you think you could make it jump through a hoop, April?”
She shook her blonde head. “I don’t think so.”
“Let’s see if I can. Hassan, do we have a hoop?”
Hassan brought one, a yellow ring about a foot in diameter.
Mysto held it in the air about three inches above the table. He pointed a finger at the silkworm. “Come!
Jump!”
The silkworm wriggled, but didn’t move. Mysto repeated the command with a stern voice. The silkworm actually shook its head. The audience laughed and applauded.
Mysto heaved a great sigh “It’s as I feared. It takes little girl magic. April, will you tell this creature to jump?”
April giggled and leaned forward. “Please jump, silkworm!”
The silkworm sped forward, launched itself through the air and through the hoop, then skidded sideways to a stop at the edge of the table. The audience applauded again.
“Shall we have it jump once more, April?” Mysto asked,
“Yes.” As Mysto held the hoop in position she called, “Please jump again, silkworm, but be more Page 100
careful.”
Again the silkworm sped forward and went through the hoop, but slowed and stopped without skidding.
It turned, as though awaiting further instructions from its little mistress.
Like the rest of the audience, Rick was enthralled. The silk creature acted like a living thing, motion rippling along the sides when it wasn’t moving, and undulating smoothly when it moved.
“What else would you like it to do?” Mysto asked.
“Can it go backwards?”
“Ask it to, and see.”
April leaned forward. “Please go backwards, silkworm.”
The silkworm had to switch ends so that its tail was to the table length, but it did so, then went backwards to the other end, its little tail end wiggling.
Mysto said, “I think it behaves so well for you because you say please, April. Now what would you like it to do?”
She thought for a moment. “Could it go around and around the edge of the table?”
“I think it would depend on what you told it to do. If you told it to go in a circle, it would. Try it.”
She did so. The silkworm chased its tail around twice.
“The table is a rectangle,” Mysto said. “Do you know the kind of circle that will fit in a rectangle?”
She shook her head. Mysto turned to the audience. “Who can help us?”
Several shouted, “Ellipse!”
“That’s it,” Mysto agreed. “Ellipse. Say it, April.”
It came out ellipth, but that was close enough. She said slowly, “Silkworm, please go around the table in a ellipth.”
The silkworm undulated happily around, then went around again with no further instruction.
Jan leaned close to Rick. “Honestly, I can believe he really brought it to life.”
It seemed so. What was most amazing was that the magician had moved around freely, even turning his back once or twice on the moving silkworm. He made no motions with his hands as though controlling it, and looked more at April than the silkworm.
At Mysto’s instructions, April told the silkworm to go to the center of the table and face the audience.
Mysto asked, “Do you know what performers do when they finish and the audience applauds?”
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April did. “They bow.”
“Yes. If you think it’s time for our silkworm to take a bow, tell it to do so.”
“Silkworm, please take a bow.”
The amazing little creatureraised up its front end and bent its rounded head forward as the audience applauded for long minutes. Then it settled down to the table once again.
Mysto lifted April down. “You have been a very fine helper indeed, April Tyler. You may help yourself to a silken scarf for each one of your girl friends, and one for your mother. Hassan will help you, in a moment.”
To the audience, he said, “The illusion of life.Even life for a silk scarf, made possible by little girl magic.
And for April’s own scarf to keep, here is one...” He reached for the creation on the table “...that once obeyed her as a silkworm.”
He picked up the silkworm by its tail, pulled it through his fingers and it was only a scarf once more. He displayed it front and back, then handed it to April.
“Now let us take our bows, April.” The magician bowed, and the little blonde did a very creditable curtsy. The audience applauded then rose to its feet and gave them a standing ovation.
The applause continued as Mysto left the stage and Hassan took April to the rack and helped her choose scarf after scarf. Mysto took two more bows, then left and the audience quieted.
Derek came forth. “It is the custom for shows like ours to end with a spectacular illusion, like materializing a tiger, or blowing up the magician. But what could be more arresting, charming, and spectacular than the illusion you have just seen? Such magic is possible only at the hands of the Marvelous Mysto. We would not try to follow such an act.And so, my guests, goodnight. We hope you will visit our house again.”
Derek, Karen and their assistants took bows; then Mysto appeared to thunderous applause and the curtains closed.
Jerry Webster was first on his feet. “Please excuse me? I’ve got to get to April for an interview.”
Rick laughed. “Go, boy!”
Then the audience was on its feet, nearly everyone talking at once. What they had just seen was clearly impossible. A silk scarf cannot be folded and tw
isted into a shape and then hold it and do tricks. Silk is springy, and such a scarf, crushed into a ball, explodes like a sponge when released.Must have been plastic.
Even if the scarf could hold its shape, it couldn’t make complex moves without more strings than a marionette, and even if it had strings, which it did not, it couldn’t jump through a hoop. Strings would have been visible.
Besides, to control the silkworm the magician would need to use his hands and pay close attention.
Mysto had paid more attention to April than to his creation.
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He must have used a different scarf than the one April picked. Only she had run it through her hands three times, and he held it out, showing both sides once. At the end, he had simply picked it up, run it through his hands again, and opened it out, then handed it to her. It had to be the same scarf.
Rick was listening to all this as the Spindrift group moved with the audience. They would turn off shortly, and go to one of the small dining rooms where a reception for friends would be held.
He told his family and friends, “The obvious conclusion is that the whole thing was an illusion. The silkworm didn’t even exist!” Mysto’s return clearly was a smashing success.
CHAPTER XVII
Rite of Passage
About an hour after the reception following Mysto’s return, Rick stood on the front porch of the Brant home and looked out at the sea glimmering in the light of a three-quarter moon. It was a fine night, the temperature in the forties, and even Diz, not normally a night dog, seemed to enjoy it. Diz was keeping Rickcompany while he waited for Jan.
Rick had thought about the astonishing silkworm on the way home, and he had a notion of how it might have been done. He suspected the pure white plastic table on which all could be seen so clearly was not as innocent as it appeared. There were very likely controlling circuits and series of small electro-magnets cast into it.
He had also noticed the care with which Tom and Archy had not only placed the table, but pushed the rear legs down hard, perhaps to be sure the table was stable, but also, probably, to ensure good contact for power supply and control circuit, or both.