A Little Traveling Music

 

I used to visit the Abracadabra Magic Shop, which we were told was owned by several police officers. On Saturday mornings working in the downtown business district of Houston things were extremely slow.  My partner and I found ways to amuse ourselves; what better way than having amateur magicians practice their sleight of hand in preparation for their next show.

These young men let us practice a bit of sleight of hand if we purchased a silly magic trick suitable for fooling kids.  One trick they taught me was how to make a card disappear or seemingly disappear.  It was a dexterity challenge where the target card was held in place by your index finger and pinky.  The two middle fingers would be bent and act as a spring while you brought your hand down.  It was a neat trick; but harder to master than I’d anticipated.

The rest of the afternoon while walking around across the street from Foly’s I kept practicing and practicing trying to get all the functions coordinated.  Right as I was passing in front of the parking lot entrance for the Foley’s garage, it all came together.  I’d made the card look as if it had disappeared. I hadn’t considered the lady driving into the garage at that moment as she nearly lost control of her car.  I must have really done a good job with that trick; but in the future it was to be practiced out of the public’s eye.

One autumn day after a dry ‘Blue Norther’ had pushed through we happened to stop by for a visit with our young magicians. They were eagerly anticipating a visit from a prospective out of town magician, one who could make their cash register sing if they could show him enough stage props to make it worth his while. There were all manner of incendiary devices placed strategically on their display case’s glass top which were used as distractions while other sleight of hand tricks were going on; nothing like show business.

Unfortunately the lack of humidity had not been taken into consideration. An accidental static discharge from our friend’s fingertip set off a chain reaction of flash paper which happened to be next to an aerosol can of spray paint. The heat generated was sufficient to explode the can, breaking the glass display case top and so on down the line until all the incendiary items had ignited and filled the shop with smoke.

Our friend lost an eyebrow and small patch of hair as the momentary blast of flames shot past his forehead. All his hard work went up in smoke, literally. Adding insult to injury, some busy body called the fire department to report an explosion.

The arson team came out looking for violations of the city code; samples of residue were collected and marked for future criminal prosecution. My friend was eager to assist while trying to explain what each item had been prior to being set off; but the investigator was a hardnosed veteran and wanted to be left alone.

There was some sort of residue, a grayish-white blast pattern on the wall directly behind where the display case had blown up. The investigator scrapped off a small portion and placed it into a clear plastic envelope; my friend desperately tried to explain what it was, only to be told to be quiet. The fellow then placed the tip of his finger on the residue, took a sniff while lifting his brow to the unknown substance he’d been unable to identify. He placed the fingertip on his tongue hoping for a telltale trace of illegal evidence that could be used against the Abracadabra magicians.

It was at this moment I noticed my friend breaking out in uncontrollable laughter, holding his stomach as he bent over in a horse laugh. The arson investigator didn’t see what was so funny; this was a serious criminal investigation.

“That’s where the show doves were caged. When the stuff went off it scared them; I mean they were really scared.” The blast pattern was the natural elimination caused by scared doves sprayed on a wall.

(Image of Magician Dove  courtesy of School of Illusionism)