CHAPTER SEVEN
“You son of a bitch!” Ruth couldn’t believe her ears. The loser she’d made the mistake of marrying was threatening her with a divorce. “I stood by you while you went gallivanting around the globe with your Navy buddies, and now this?”
“Gallivanting? It was war. Are you mad, woman?”
“You didn’t have to go, Dick. You enlisted. You wanted to go.”
“You’re fucking nuts!” Richard exclaimed. “Go on; tell that shit to the judge. Not only will he grant me the divorce, he’ll lock you up in the loony bin.”
“This is going to cost you big time, Mr. Magic. Let’s see you conjure up those alimony payments, not to mention child support.”
“Alimony?” Richard laughed. “Child support? I think not.”
“What do you mean, you think not? No judge in his right mind is going to let you run off scot free.”
“Run off? I’m not running off. I’m going to Nashville. I already have a job lined up. The girls are going to love it.”
“The girls! Now I know you’ve lost it. Did a torpedo hit you in the head? They’re staying with me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Oh, I’m sure. Just like I’m sure you’ll be paying through the nose for alimony. I’ll be taking those Navy payments, bucko.”
“Will you?” Richard rubbed his chin as if in deep thought. “Since you put it that way, I guess I’ll stay. I can’t wait to tell Alice and Ray all about it. Should I spring it on them before or after?”
“Before or after what?” Ruth didn’t like the sound of that. He was up to something.
“Before or after I show them the photographs?”
Ruth felt her stomach churn. She had told Ray they were going to have to be more careful. Still, whatever Richard thought he knew, it wasn’t the half of it. “Oh, I see. You have photographs. So what? It’s going to take more than that, Dick.”
“Like medical records from a Dr. Bill Thornhill?”
“I, I don’t know what you mean,” stammered Ruth. How the hell did he find out about that?
“Adultery is frowned upon, Ruth. Abortion is illegal. You’re fucking your sister’s husband and cheating on a war hero.”
“War hero? You really have a high opinion of yourself. May I remind you that you’re practically unemployed? A magician! That’s comical. What kind of idiot do you think that judge is going to be?”
“I wouldn’t call Judge Faraway an idiot, Ruth. Far from it, if I remember correctly. Did I mention we served in the Navy together? I pulled him into a life raft when our ship went down. But I’m sure he won’t be biased in any way. I doubt he even remembers that.”
“You bastard!”
“Slut!”
Ruth stewed. How dare he do this to her—humiliate her like this. She wasn’t going to stand for it.
“Don’t get too upset, dear,” Richard offered. “I’m not going to leave you in a lurch, even if you deserve it. I know you had it rough, in your own way, bringing up the girls. I’m just thinking of you.”
“Thinking of me?” Ruth started to cry. This couldn’t be happening. “How is this thinking of me?”
“You said it yourself. I hardly bring in any money, at least on paper. I’ll make sure it stays that way if I have to. What do you think you’ll get from me? Raising girls is expensive. Living as a single mother is expensive. I’m not sure Ray wants the girls around, anyhow.”
“Ray? What’s Ray have to do with this? He’s married to Alice.”
“For now.”
Ruth stared at Richard. She knew that look. It was the same look he’d given Georgia Tann when the woman had sworn they’d never be able to adopt a child. Once again, Richard had thought ahead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Things went exactly as Richard had planned. Ray left Alice and ran off with Ruth. Richard feigned surprise and indignation at the prospect of raising the girls on his own.
When they got to Nashville, Richard used his new name, A. M. Villanova. In no time he established his new persona as a renowned magician with one daughter, Natalia the Gypsy Princess. He’d grown a mustache and long, pointed goatee. He spoke with a vaguely Eastern European accent at all times. Richard instructed his daughters never to speak at all on stage, if possible. If they had to speak, to only whisper to him or mumble strange gibberish that he’d interpret.
He had learned a great deal about showmanship and used that information to transform himself and the girls into what he wanted the world to see. He was the Amazing and Magnificent Villanova—from parts unknown. His silent assistant was an orphaned gypsy who he’d rescued during one of his many travels. Her age was undetermined. As far as anyone knew, there was only one assistant.
The girls loved the new adventure their father had brought them on. Their mother had taken care of them without much enthusiasm. To her, they were a nuisance to be put up with, and they got in the way of her dalliance with her lover.
Their father was the opposite. He included them in his plans and ambitions. They learned the tricks and rehearsed with a passion that only amplified their father’s resolve. He promised them that they’d become what they pretended to be as long as they maintained the illusion at all times and worked hard. They believed him, believed in him, and learned to believe in themselves. Once they received their first standing ovation, they were hooked forever.
What little funds Richard had left over after the move, he poured into the act. He used his connections from the playhouse and from his days traveling with the sideshows to find the right people to complement the act. He hired three freakishly tall black men to dress like African witch doctors and beat on conga drums, a skinny Indian to wear a loincloth and turban and act like a snake charmer swami, and an Asian woman who looked like she was pushing a hundred to wear silk robes and geisha makeup. He even found a Hungarian refugee who could play gypsy dance music on a violin.
Richard took out a full page ad in the local newspaper and tipped a half-dozen paperboys two dollars each to publicize his upcoming show on street corners. With his last few dollars, he and the girls made posters and went out in the middle of the night to tack them up on every telephone pole in the vicinity, so that the next morning they seemed to have appeared as if by magic.
Friday night was to be the first show at the Tennessee Luxor. If all went well, there would be many more to follow; success would finally be his. If it didn’t, Richard and the girls would be ruined.
CHAPTER NINE
“Daddy, you won’t believe it!” Lacey exclaimed. They were backstage at the Luxor, where they’d been since early that morning. The rehearsals had gone well, but Richard wasn’t taking any chances. Their future was on the line.
“What won’t I believe, sweetie?”
“There must be a million, jillion people outside waiting to get in!” said Laura.
Richard smiled and hugged the girls. It was a rare occasion when they could be together in the same room without the risk of others seeing. He knew what sacrifices they were making by having to live a lie. It was particularly hard on the girls since they were not allowed to speak around others and were never to be in the same place at the same time. If the girls were right about the size of the audience and it went well that night, it would all be worth it.
Their intimate moment was cut short by a tapping on the door. Richard nodded and slipped on his wig and turban while Lacey hid in the box, one of the stage props they used for that very reason. It was literally a box with a hidden compartment big enough for one of the girls to hide in. It had a secret latch and air holes. Laura waited until they were ready, then opened the door.
“This is amazing!” The venue manager was elated that throngs of people waited outside even though they’d sold out of seats hours before.
“Amazing and magnificent!” agreed Richard in his thick, phony accent.
“Right, amazing and magnificent,” the man corrected himself. “We’ve filled every seat, and there’s at least a
thousand more people waiting to get in. They’re lined up around the block. It’s too bad we’re not having two shows tonight.”
“Yes, yes, too bad,” Richard agreed.
In order to book the venue, he normally would’ve been required to put a large deposit down and employ his own personnel. Since he didn’t have the funds to do that, he and the owners had come to an agreement over the take. Half of the money from the ticket sales, along with all of the concession dollars, went toward the venue. An additional twenty percent went to the stage hands and other personnel. Richard had no idea how much the greedy bastard who managed the place was skimming, but he had hardly been in a position to quibble. Judging by the successful results of his marketing campaign, that position no longer applied.
“I’d really hate to turn those people away,” stammered the man. “They’ve come all the way down here and—"
“And have all that cash to fork over?” finished Richard.
“Something like that.”
The manager was actually rubbing his hands together, practically salivating at the prospect of selling out two shows in one night. When Richard said nothing more, the manager pushed the issue. “What would it take to make that happen?”
“Magic!” exclaimed Richard with a dramatic wave of his arms. The manager smiled nervously. “Just kidding,” Richard continued, turning back to the mirror to touch up his makeup. “But, since I believe we’ve more than covered your overhead expenses, perhaps a more fair distribution of the profits is in order.”
“Not exactly,” the manager said. “I mean, I’ll have to pay my employees overtime, and that won’t come cheap. Besides—"
“Pity,” Richard interrupted. “The second show is usually the best. The first one always has a few rough edges, but the next is spectacular. Once word gets out, you might have to make those overtime payments a regular thing. I’d be profoundly heartbroken to be the cause of so much trouble on your behalf. I’ll make it a point to convey that to the owners of this fine establishment. I’m sure they’ll be absolutely beside themselves with gratitude over your concern for your employees. But I doubt that’ll be necessary. Word will get out that no second show was offered to the disappointed people who waited all that time to get in. It might prevent them from going to the trouble of coming all the way down here the next time. I’m sure there are other theaters that offer adequate entertainment for their enjoyment.”
“No, no, I’ll hear none of that,” said the manager. “It’s your special night. You’ve worked hard for this. I’d be happy to pay the workers out of my own pocket for their extra time as well as the considerable expense of keeping this place open for another couple of hours. Consider it a gift, Mr. Villanova. Fifty percent of the box office will cover us just fine.”
“And the concessions?” added Richard.
“The concessions? I’m not sure. The owners are quite clear about how we—"
“A mere twenty percent is all I ask. For charity.”
“Charity?”
“The gypsy orphan’s fund,” said Richard, nodding at Laura.
The girl ran to her father’s side and said in a strange tongue. “Nanno cholati mallu rentisimo flora vespuci cammerarone.”
“What’s she saying?” asked the manager.
“She’s expressing her gratitude over your generous offer. Her people have suffered so greatly. Very few have expressed a desire to help them. As one of the last members of her tribe, she’s deeply touched by your gesture.”
“Are her parent’s deceased?” the man asked.
Richard nodded his head sadly. “Not only her parents, but all of her relatives. Burned in the ovens at the hands of the Nazis. I was able to help her escape by means of my unusual talents, and I’ve looked after her ever since.”
“You are truly a remarkable man, Mr. Villanova. It’s an honor to host your performance.”
The men shook hands, and the manager left. The deal was made.
“A second show, Daddy!” said Lacey, climbing out of her hiding space. “Aren’t you nervous?”
“Actually, my little gypsy princess, I’m relieved.” With a second show, he’d have plenty of money to get by for awhile. If they tanked, there would be no shows the next night, or the one after that. With only one show, there’d be little left over after expenses. Two guaranteed them that they’d get by.
Richard said no more as they made the final preparations. They’d be on in less than fifteen minutes. The place was pulsating with the anticipation of three thousand fans waiting for their chance to witness something extraordinary. The Amazing and Magnificent Villanova was going to give it to them.
CHAPTER TEN
Under the instructions of the magician, the beginning of the presentation was delayed. The crowd grew restless. The theater manager paced nervously back and forth in the wings, wishing he hadn’t agreed to the magician’s demand that the show start fifteen minutes late without giving notice to the anxious crowd. The stage manager in charge of the performance ignored him and smiled; the magician knew what he was doing.
On cue and without warning, the lights dimmed, and the three black trumpeters blared out a sound reminiscent of a royal announcement. The trio set down their horns and beat an ancient rhythm on heavy bass drums. Minutes later, they were accompanied by the elderly Japanese woman plucking on a koto. The curtains moved unseen in the darkness. A strange purple-bluish glow radiated from an odd-shaped obelisk at center stage. As the light grew in intensity, so did the volume of the peculiar Hindu melody emanating from the pungi, an instrument used by snake charmers, now played by the elderly man from India.
The odd mixture of exotic instruments and compositions was both hypnotic and unsettling. When the Hungarian refugee played a gypsy melody on his violin, the effect was electric. After a crescendo, the musicians abruptly stopped, and the theater fell into darkness once more. After a long pause, the drums beat wildly, and cymbals crashed as pyrotechnics exploded in bright flashes on the stage, momentarily blinding all onlookers.
A backlit silhouette appeared in the fog as the sound rose again. The horns blew loudly once more, and the stage became bathed in light, revealing a lone figure where the obelisk had stood. From the loudspeakers erupted the voice of the house emcee: “The Luxor Theater is proud to present a once in a lifetime chance for you to witness a legend in the world of magic. Known for his incredible feats of miraculous illusions as the Wizard of Eurasia, Swami of the Far East, Mystic of the Orient, Magus of Persia, Sorcerer of the Dark Continent, and Conjurer of the Amazon, ladies and gentlemen of Nashville, in his first North American performance, it is my honor to introduce the Amazing and Magnificent Villanova!”
Richard raised his arms in a victorious pose, his glittery purple turban reflecting the bright spotlights in every direction. A red plastic ruby set in the center of the headpiece glowed, thanks to a battery powered light behind the stone. Richard’s heavy eyeliner made his eyes appear almost too big for his face, an illusion which he heightened with a fiery stare at the darkened crowd beyond the lights. His cape flapped gently behind him in the light breeze from one of the fans set up to blow away the smoke and designed to make him look as if he were in motion amongst the clouds. Richard posed for a moment for effect, then lowered his arms.
“I am the Amazing and Magnificent Villanova!” he exclaimed in his fake European accent. To Richard, it sounded like a cross between the stereotypical Russian and Count Dracula, but it fit his phony persona. “It is true, I have traveled the world in search of the unexplainable and terrifying, and I bring to you some of the miraculous illusions that I have discovered. But I must confess something to you, something I’ve never told anyone before. I have seen the most amazing of sights, the most incredible natural beauties, the greatest treasures of mankind, and the richest of kings, emperors, and tyrants in all their splendid palaces and castles. Until now, I have been unable to make this statement. You are truly a privileged people, for you live in a place like no other. Yes, the Amaz
ing and Magnificent Villanova will state for all to hear. Now that I have seen the world with my own eyes, I can state without a shadow of a doubt that the United States of America is the greatest nation on earth!”
The crowd went wild with applause. Everyone jumped to their feet in delight. The magician bowed humbly in return and tried to hide his smile. The suckers were eating it up with a ladle.
“Let us begin!” Richard swung his cape around his body three times in an ever-widening arch before stretching out one arm from his side. He draped the cloth like a matador at a bullfight and stomped his feet. Spanish music drifted up from the orchestra pit as roses fell down on the stage from above.
“As I wandered the narrow alleys of Pamplona, a lovely señorita once said to me, ‘Señor, you must be careful. The mighty Taurus will strike you down.’ I smiled at the Spanish princess and told her, ‘Not I. The wild beast holds no power over me. But beauty such as yours is truly dangerous.’”
The audience laughed. Richard smiled and winked. The cloth in his hands began to bulge, and he looked at it with confusion. He held the cape gingerly as the bulge took the shape of a bull’s head, complete with horns. The cape seemed to come alive as if the garment itself had transformed into the beast.
“Toro, toro!” The magician called out. “Feo toro para chica boñita yo te mando! Hocus pocus.” He turned and smiled a att the crowd. “I’d better focus!”
More laughter drifted up from the audience. Richard turned back to the cape that now appeared beyond his control, and shouted, “Gypsy girl, arise!” He pulled the cape away to reveal his daughter, Laura, dressed lavishly in an exotic, brightly colored genie outfit. She held up both hands to her head, her thumbs and fingers in the shape of horns, and dragged her right foot along the floor as she walked toward him. She blew air out and snorted like a bull. The crowd erupted in applause and laughter. Laura bowed as her father introduced her. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my lovely assistant, Natalia, the Gypsy Princess. Natalia, say hello to the wonderful citizens of Nashville.”
The Bone Puzzle: The Saga Begins Page 3
