Page 30 of The One I Need
There. Told the truth. And I didn’t come off as a total bitch. I’m going to chalk that up as a win.
“What can we do to make you a believer?”
My brain immediately starts workshopping all the many things I wish I could say right now. I don’t want to be basic and ask him for some lame card trick. I could ask him to make me disappear so I didn’t have to be in this situation anymore. Or maybe I could shoot for the moon and ask him for a genie in a bottle to grant me three wishes—two of them being me getting out of here and him disappearing. But I doubt he has those kinds of powers, and that’s conceding that he has any at all.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “But it would have to be something pretty amazing.”
“Then it’s your lucky day!” he says, playing to the audience. “Amazing is my middle name!”
Funny. I would have gone for something like Vernon. Or Fraud.
“Ladies and gentlemen, how about we bring Izzy up on stage and show her that magic does indeed exist!”
The crowd starts wildly clapping as I feel every cell in my body turn cold. Fuck me. This is exactly what I didn’t want—me, up on stage in front of a bunch of random people who have nowhere else to look except at me or junior varsity David Blaine, under unflattering lights. This is my own personal hell.
“Audience, I think Izzy here needs a little bit of encouragement. What do you say?”
On cue the room starts applauding, including Oliver. I could give him a pleading look, begging him to help me. But I don’t. I can’t let anyone see that this is the worst. I’ll suck it up. Because that’s what I do.
“You’re going to pay for this later.” I say as I stand up.
He takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be happy to pay the price.”
“All right, audience, one more time! Give it up for Izzy!”
You got this. This is supposed to be fun and harmless. No one is judging you. No one is whispering about you.
I let out a breath and suck up my courage as I follow the magician to the stage.
“What’s about to happen?” I whisper, hoping the microphone isn’t on. For my own sanity—and to not hyperventilate in front of an audience—I need to know.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers back. “Just go with it.”
Sure…just go with it. He says it like it’s so easy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I did not intend on performing this trick tonight, so my apologies, but I only have this deck of invisible cards.”
He holds up nothing and the audience laughs appropriately. I don’t feel bad giving him a “what the fuck look” since I am the skeptic.
“Here,” he says as he pretends to take a deck of cards out of the box. “Can you shuffle these for me?”
Really? This is what we’re doing?
“You want me to shuffle air?”
“No. I want you to use your imagination and shuffle this deck of cards.”
I look back to the audience and somehow through the lights, I see Oliver. He has his phone up, I’m guessing to record this, giving me a thumbs-up like a proud papa at his daughter’s dance recital.
“Fine,” I groan and go along with this charade. I take the “deck” out of the “box of cards” and shuffle it. Twice.
“Here,” I say, handing it to him.
He shakes his head. “I think we need a few more times. Audience? What do you think?”
As if they were all given a script that I didn’t get, they all start changing “Go! Go! Go!” Some are clapping, some are like Oliver and pumping their fists. So I do—unwillingly.
“Great. Now, what I need you to do Izzy is take a card out of that deck. Just one card. And I’m going to need you to show it to the audience.”
