by Marty Chan
Then it hit me. I didn’t have to make Peter think a two-person act was a good idea. I had to make him think it was his idea.
Dana was onstage in the middle of her rope act, but Peter seemed more interested in writing on his clipboard than watching her. I waited until she was done.
“Well, sweetie,” Peter said, “it wasn’t too bad, but I think you might want to work on your image a bit more. Have you thought about wearing more makeup?”
“Uh…what about the magic?” Dana asked.
“Yeah, well, I already have three other rope acts,” Peter said. “I’ll let you know.”
“Um…thanks,” Dana mumbled as she shuffled off the stage.
“Good job,” I whispered as she walked past us.
She nodded, but her frown gave away how bad she felt.
Min followed me as I headed across the stage and down the steps to Peter. I tried to get a peek at the lineup on his clipboard, but he caught me looking and placed his hands over the page.
“Yes?” he said. “May I help you?”
“Peter, you’ve been working so hard. Min and I were wondering if you need something to eat or drink.”
“Well, that would be nice, dear,” he said. “Since you asked, I would love an iced tea with some lemon wedges. The coffee shop down the street has the best tea. If you could be a dear and get me a large cup, that would be grand.”
“Of course,” I said. “Nothing to eat?”
“Oh, if it’s not a bother, dear, a blueberry muffin with two pats of butter,” Peter said as he started to make more notes on his clipboard. “No. Make that three pats. Butter. Not margarine. Butter.”
Min tugged at the back of my jacket. “Ask him,” he said.
“I’m working on it,” I whispered.
Peter glanced up from his clipboard. “Next!” he called out.
I shifted over to block his view of the stage. “Peter, before we grab your iced tea and muffin, Min and I have a question. With so many solo acts, do you think the show might be running a little long?”
He stopped writing. “If I cast the show with the best magicians, the time will fly by.”
“Oh yes,” I said quickly. “I totally agree. You’ve always been able to pick out the brightest people. And I’m sure you’re probably trying to work out ways to make sure the show doesn’t slow down or get boring with the same kind of acts. You know, like having three rope tricks in the lineup?”
“Of course, dear,” he said. “I’m always thinking of ways to shake things up.”
“So I heard that you were thinking of putting in an act with two magicians,” I said. “What a great idea. You’re so smart.”
Peter put his hand to his chin, like he was stroking a beard, then looked down at his clipboard. “Well, I didn’t know word had gotten out, but that is something I have been thinking about.”
Gotcha.
Min nudged me. “You know, Kylie and I have been working on a two-person act.”
“I’m sure Peter’s got some two-person acts lined up already,” I said. I was really working it. “He’s such a great director. He’s always way ahead of the rest of us.” I was laying it on thick.
Peter lowered his clipboard. “Hold on. Tell me more about your act. Who knows? I may have an opening.”
Min and I glanced at each other. I hadn’t really expected to get this far. I scrambled to come up with an idea. “It’s an escape act,” I said, making it up as I went along. “You know. Handcuffs. Shackles. Rope. The whole works.”
Min grinned and nodded. “Yes, and we would get someone from the audience to check on the ropes.” Smart guy. He’d heard what Peter had said about my act.
Peter smiled. “Ooh, I like it. A nod to the great Harry Houdini. Kylie, I assume you’d be the lovely assistant who ties up Min?”
I bit my lip. “Um, well, why do I have to be the assistant?”
“Well, because that’s the way it’s always been done, dear,” Peter replied.
“But didn’t you say that a good magician always shakes things up? Keeps the audience on their toes?”
“Yes, yes, I might have said that,” he agreed. “Tell you what. Show me what you’ve got and we’ll go from there.”
Uh-oh. Min jumped in. “We’re still working out the details.”
Peter made an irritating tsk-tsk noise. “Not ready? I’m sorry, but I’m only casting acts that are ready to go.”
“There are still eight weeks until the show,” I said. “What if we do our act for you in, let’s say, a month? If you like it, you can cast us. If not, you still have time to find a substitute.”
“Well, I don’t know…” he said.
But I could tell he was wavering.
“Think about it. A Harry Houdini escape? No way anyone is going to top that,” I said.
Peter sighed and scribbled some more on his clipboard. I would have loved to have seen what he was writing down. I was beginning to suspect it was all for show. “You have three weeks, dear,” he said. “That’s when I’ll be conducting my last round of tryouts. If I like what I see, you’re in. If not, I can always use someone with a pretty smile to take tickets,” he said.
What a pig, I thought. But what I said to him was “Deal.”
Later that day I watched Min dig through his box of magic. Silks. Playing cards. Coins. Silver linking rings. Sponge balls. Finally he fished out an old pair of handcuffs.
“Yes!” Min said. “I knew I had these somewhere. Kylie, help me put these on, will you?”
“I’m not going to be your assistant,” I said.
Min looked at me. “You want to do the escape?”
“Why, you don’t think I can?” I asked.
“Well, sure, I can teach you how, but you know I don’t like talking in front of a crowd,” Min said. “And I’d have to do a lot of talking to cover you while you do the escape.”
“Min, this will be good practice for you. The more you talk in front of a crowd, the easier it will get.”
“But you’re a natural at acting and stuff. Me? I just like doing the magic,” he said.
“So do I,” I said as I grabbed the handcuffs. “You’re the best magician I know, but you’ve got to get over your nerves and learn how to win over the crowd.”
“I guess,” Min said, pulling a large canvas sack from the box.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“In the old days, this was a mailbag for letter carriers to lug the mail around in. Now it’s the kind of thing magicians use for their escape acts,” Min said.
“Really? How?”
“The magician is tied up and handcuffed and then climbs into the bag. It’s big enough to cover the escape so no one can see how you get out,” he explained.
“Awesome,” I said. “Let’s use it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to be the assistant?” he asked again. “You’re way better at entertaining the crowd.”
I grabbed the mailbag from him. “Tell you what, Min. Teach me how to do the escape, and I’ll come up with a little speech for you to deliver to the crowd. Deal?”
Min chewed his lower lip. He seemed pretty nervous. I only felt a little bad. But there was no way I was going to be the “lovely assistant.”
Finally he stuck out his hand and said, “I’m in!”
Whew.
For the next week, Min patiently showed me over and over how to get out of the handcuffs and undo the ropes wrapped around me. I helped write a script for him. But even with my coaching, Min still had problems with the lines. While I fumbled with the ropes, he fumbled with his words. And boy, was he nervous. I mean, Min sweat so much I thought a waterfall was gushing from his armpits.
“Okay, I think I’m getting the hang of how to get out of the ropes,” I said. “When do we get to the mailbag?”
Min waved his hand. “Let’s save it for tomorrow. I really want to get these lines down.”
“You don’t have to remember them exactly, Min,” I said. “Just get a sense
of what you need to say and then wing it.”
“But I have to time what I say with your actions so that everything is smooth,” he pointed out.
I shook my head. “Not when we’re still learning. Things can change, and you have to be able to roll with it.”
“I have to get this part right. The lines have to be perfect,” Min said, staring at the paper in his hand.
“Min, if you get too focused on the script, you’re going to be uptight onstage.” I had to figure out a way to help him relax. “You know what we need? An audience.”
Min looked terrified. “What?” he asked. “Now? No way am I ready for a crowd.”
“Just a trial run,” I said. “It’ll be fun. Plus, I think it will help calm you down.”
“I’m not ready,” he insisted. “You’re not ready.”
“Not a big crowd. Just your family. Mine. Maybe a couple of kids from school,” I said.
“Forget it!” Min yelled. He looked angry now. “My parents would make me too nervous, and I don’t want the kids at school to know what we’re doing yet.”
“Some strangers then?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No one. Not until we have everything locked down and perfect.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands. “Just relax, Min.”
He stared down at his page and continued to practice his lines.
As I watched the sweat stains spread down his shirt from his armpits, I realized that Min would never feel like he was ready. The only way he would get over his nerves was if he had to do the show in front of a real live audience. I knew just the crowd he needed.
Chapter Four
My mom worked at a seniors’ care home and was in charge of the social programming. The residents would make a perfect audience for our test run. They loved pretty much anyone. Show up, and they’d clap.
Now all I had to do was convince Mom to hire Min and me.
That night I helped make supper to get on her good side. She was making the vegetable dumplings that Lăo Lao had taught her to cook. I liked my grandmother’s better, but she lived in Shanghai. I missed her. Sometimes we talked, but she hated doing video chats. I chopped up the onions as Mom rolled out the dough. I wanted to make sure she was in a good mood before I popped the question.
“Just a little thinner, Kylie,” she said.
“No problem, Mom. You need anything else chopped?”
“The carrots, but make sure you peel them first,” Mom said.
“Okay, I’m on it.”
I grabbed the carrots from the fridge.
Mom shook her head. “You know, I can’t remember the last time you were this helpful.”
“What do you mean? I help out all the time,” I said.
She laughed. “No. I think I would remember.”
“Last week I took out the garbage,” I said.
“After I asked you eight times,” she said. “Oh wait, now I remember the last time you helped without my asking. It was when you wanted to go off with your friends at the fair.”
“Was it?” I asked. “I thought that was Dad’s idea for us to go, since he was going to be busy working the booth all day.”
My mom put her hands on her hips. “Kylie, out with it. While I enjoy your help, I don’t want to wait for you to work up the nerve to ask. What do you want?”
“Okay, you got me,” I admitted. “Min and I are working on a new magic act, but it kind of needs an audience. I was hoping we might be able to do it for the seniors at Sunrise.”
“That’s it?” Mom asked. “You want an audience?”
I nodded.
“Well, to tell you the truth, you’d be doing me a favor, Kylie. One of my singers canceled at the last minute, and I’ve been scrambling to find someone to fill in for her this Saturday. Do you think you and Min would be able to do two shows?”
“Two?” I asked.
“Yes, she was supposed to perform a morning and an afternoon show. Do you think you could do those slots? I can’t pay you, but you’d be helping me out.”
“You bet,” I said. “We’ll do them both.”
This had certainly gone better than I had expected. Now that I had the audience, I had to somehow convince Min to do the shows.
The next day Min made me practice slipping out of the handcuffs while I ran through the script with him.
He paced around the room, chatting to an invisible crowd. He kept fumbling the lines. “The timer is ticking down. Will Kylie escape before the seven minutes is up? Or will she be bested by the handcuffs? No, wait. I meant before the clock runs out. Kylie, can I start over?”
I slipped my hand out of the cuffs. “Take it easy, Min. You almost had it. Think about it this way. As the assistant, you’re building the excitement. Don’t worry about the exact lines.”
“But I need to let you know how much time you have left,” he said.
“I can barely hear you when I’m in the mailbag,” I said. “Just focus on the crowd. Let them think time is running out.”
“I can’t remember if I say the line about the clock and then move back, or if I move back as I’m saying the line,” he said. He shifted from one foot to the other as if the movement would help him remember.
“Min, look at me,” I said. “It doesn’t matter which foot you’re on when you say the line as long as you say it.”
“But I need to get this exactly right.” He looked really panicky.
I freed my other hand from the cuffs. “Min, the audience doesn’t know what you’re supposed to do. They won’t care where you put your feet as long as you keep talking. Trust me.”
“How do you know, Kylie?” he asked.
“I’ve done it before, Min. I’ve messed up tricks, but I’ve talked my way out of the mistake. If you trust in yourself, you can talk your way out of anything. As long as you don’t admit you screwed up, the audience will think it’s just a part of the act. Roll with it.”
Min shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not you.”
I grabbed his hand. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’ll be great this Saturday.”
His palm felt like it had sprung a leak. I had never known anyone to sweat so much. I let go and wiped my hand on my pants.
“Saturday? What’s happening this weekend?” he asked.
“You know how you said you get nervous in front of a crowd?” I asked, trying to sound super cheery. “Well, I found a way to help you get over your nerves.”
“What did you do, Kylie?” Min asked, his voice shaking.
“I found us an audience.”
“No. I said no to a crowd until we’re ready,” he said. “And I’m totally not ready. Not even close.”
“We have five days to get our act together,” I said. “The deadline will force us to work harder. I’ll be able to figure out the escape, and you’ll learn your lines. And if we don’t get it right during the first show, we’ll be able to get it right for the second show.”
“Two shows?!” Min shouted. “Two shows?”
“Yes, Min, two. Why, is that a problem?”
Min sagged to the floor and curled up like a baby. “I think I’m going to die,” he moaned. “I can’t do this. No way can I do this. I never should have agreed to this. I could have stuck to coin magic, but no, I had to try something new.”
“Min, you’re blowing this up bigger than it needs to be. You’ll be great. We have plenty of time to get our act into shape. But we won’t if you keep lying there. Get up, you baby.” It was time for some tough love.
Slowly Min uncurled his body and climbed to his feet.
“You ready to run through the act again?” I asked.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Let’s take it again from the part where I’m in the mailbag, okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m just finishing off tying the top of the sack. And now I step over to the clock to start it.”
I picked up the mailbag and held it in front of me, pretending I was in
side it.
“The clock is counting down,” Min said. “So I say, ‘Kylie you have only seven minutes to escape. Seven minutes starting now.’ Starting…now...now…why isn’t the timer working? Oh, I forgot to turn it on. Let’s back that up again.”
Behind the mailbag, I started to worry that Min might never get it right. I wondered if I should put off our show at the care home to the following week.
“Okay, let me see if I can reset the timer,” Min said, still messing up his lines. “Oh nuts, I set it for an hour. Hold on. Let’s try this again. What? How? Why is the clock not working?”
I wondered if maybe we should put off our show to the following year.
Chapter Five
Nothing is more thrilling than watching the audience right before you’re about to go onstage. I peeked through the crack in the door and spotted three seniors talking to each other as they took their seats at the front of the “stage,” which was a wobbly riser on tiny metal legs. More residents were streaming in to find their seats. At the entrance to the dining hall, I could see my mom greeting everyone as they walked by.
I straightened my tux and checked on Min. He couldn’t stop pacing around the office in his black suit. I had wanted to put him in a sparkly, flashy outfit like other magician’s assistants. He’d shot down the idea and gone for a tuxedo too. He tugged nervously at the hem of the jacket.
“You’re going to be great,” I said, trying to calm him down.
“This is a bad idea,” he said. “We should cancel.”
I shook my head. “Too late, Min. They’re all here.”
The office door swung open. Mom stood in the doorway. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
Min doubled over and started panting. Mom looked at him and then at me. “Are you sure?”
“Min’s ready too,” I said. “Really. He’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” she said. “Break a leg!”
Mom closed the door while I rubbed Min’s back.
Outside the office door, I could hear her talking to the residents. “Okay, everyone, settle into your seats. We’re about to get started. Trudy, that means you. Always the troublemaker.”
The crowd laughed.
