I'm going to be late; I know it. I didn't want to waste money on a cab, so I took the bus. And the bus, as always, was late. I sit in the middle, near the window, right across from the door, with my black messenger bag on my lap. The plastic blue seats face forward on my side, inward on the opposite side. There's a faint smell of urine, which I've gotten used to. Thankfully, the window next to me isn't too smudged and I can look outside.
Some days, like today, I look out the window and try to notice everything. I've lived in Brooklyn my whole life and there's always something new to see. Like, watching the way people go about their lives. As the bus stops at an intersection, an old blind man leads another across the crosswalk; literally the blind leading the blind.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass. The afternoon sun only lights half of my face. My eyes go directly to the darkest parts, which are my eyebrows and eyes, both dark brown. My hair is lighter and naturally messy, so I keep it cut short. I smirk at myself and it appears crooked in the glass. I drop the smile, stare for a second, and move on.
I watch a group of high school boys going into the oldest McDonald's I've ever seen. It has a neon sign from the '60's and everything. When the bus stops, I spring to my feet, lifting my bag's strap over my shoulder, and make my way out onto the street.
In the open air, I'm relieved from the smell of urine. Looking around, the nearest street sign reads Hudson Avenue. This, according to my cell, means I am three blocks from 45 East Evan Street. I check my new watch. 4:43. Damn it, just a minute. I pick up the pace, glancing at my phone for directions. It is a nice, clean-looking part of town, the kind with too many coffee shops. I hardly have time to notice the handsome little trees or the oriental designs in the stone apartments towering above. I pass a black lamppost with a green sign, saying 'Evan Street'.
My cell guides me to the apartment building. I enter near a small drug store, realizing I have no idea what room I need to find. I start walking and I hear muffled voices a few floors up. That's probably where I want to be. Watch says 4:46. As I climb the stairs, the more the voices distinguish themselves. One is fast and familiar, but I'm at a loss at the moment. One is a woman's. One is slower, calmer, and doesn't sound familiar. As I reach the third floor, I can see them and the owner of the third voice speaks.
"Okay. So he never made you feel special," the bald guy says to the red-headed woman. "And, trust me; you deserve to be made to feel special." You can tell he's almost bald even though he's wearing a black trilby hat. I can't see the other guy with his back to me.
"That's a really nice story," The other guy says quickly, turning to walk away and I recognize him instantly; his messy dark hair, skinny face, and prominent straight nose. "Hope you enjoy each other's company."
As soon as he sees me, he stops. I stop. "No way," I say and I walk towards the group. "J. Daniel Atlas?" He looks confused. "Dude, I have seen everything that you have ever done. I mean, you're like… I idolize you. Seriously." The other two laugh to themselves.
It was really Daniel Atlas; the whole reason I'm out on this endeavor to be a magician. I would spend my nights on the weekends looking up videos of him and figuring out how his tricks worked. I saw him perform live a few times; he had it going for him. Still trying to make it work for me…
"From a true fan," He says as he holds out his hand. I shake it. "It's so nice to meet you."
"I'm Jack, by the way," I smile.
"Question," Bald Guy raises up a card with a hooded figure on it. "Did you get one of these?" It looks similar enough to mine.
"Yeah," I say, digging through my jean pocket. I pull it out to show him. I smirk, "Yeah, Death." I shrug it off, giving a nervous laugh.
The red-headed woman looks like Daniel's assistant from the shows I've seen. She really is beautiful; the way her hair falls in a red river onto her shoulders and her eyes shine. She lifts up her card and gives me a genuine smile. "The High Priestess."
Daniel shows me his card and raises his eyebrows. "I'm the Lover." It has a picture of a snake wrapped around a heart.
Daniel's red-headed assistant (I think her name is Haley?) coughs and murmurs, "three minutes".
Bald Guy scoffs at his, saying, "Hermit". He winks at Haley.
At least I'm where I'm supposed to be. The three of them are standing in front of an apartment door with chipped gold characters. But these guys are just hanging outside it? I thought this was a meeting of some sort.
"So, what are we…? Are we waiting for someone?" I ask, looking around the group for an answer. "Why are we just…?"
"The door's locked," Daniel and Haley say in unison. Bald Guy just shrugs. I look from Daniel to Haley in disbelief. I shake my head.
"Oh, no, nothing- nothing's ever locked." Goodness. If it's locked; you pick it, simple at that. I push my way past them to get to the door. It's time to impress. I take the pick set out of my bag and stick them in the lock, and pick it in three seconds. I push the door and it swings in.
The door leads to a long hallway. It's dark and old. Haley pulls out her phone, turning on the flashlight. Daniel pulls an actual flashlight from his bag. Haley walks in past me and I follow her. The first thing that hits me is the cold. Like someone turned the air conditioning up to max. Each step on the wooden floorboards squeaks as we make our way inside.
"What is this place?" Haley asks herself, peering into the bathroom on the right, which was overrun with mold and grime.
"Wow. Thought my apartment was nasty," Bald Guy mutters under his breath.
On the left, an archway reveals a dining room. I only recognize it as a dining room because of the fireplace at the end of it. The rest of the room is cluttered with old, dusty furniture.
Continuing on, the hallway opens up to the main room. If it was being used, it would be the living room. It's a rectangular shape with a small kitchen to my right and another archway to the dining room to my left. Shuttered windows are sporadically placed around the room. Somehow, it's even colder in here.
"Man, it's freezing in here," I remark, looking around. Worked into the wood floor, there's a design like three rectangles connected with a line. And in front of it, a greeting card and a white rose are waiting.
"What's that?" asks Haley (or is it Henley?).
"I don't know," Daniel replies, picking up the card. Haley/Henley looks at it over his shoulder.
"What's it say?" Bald Guy demands, as he wanders over to the other side of the room as he looks around.
"Now you don't," Daniel reads, and then he gives me a suspicious look. Now you see me? Is that what that means?
Haley/Henley picks up the rose. "A rose by any other name…" She quotes, placing it in a vase on the floor to the left of the symbol. As soon as I hear the clink of the rose landing in the vase, water starts to drain out. I can't see a hole, but the water streams towards the symbol on the floor like a small river. Daniel gives a little chuckle.
"Guys, what's happening?" I wonder out loud, impressed.
Bald Guy lets out a soft, "Whoa", as the water trickles into the symbol on the floor, filling it up. As soon as it's filled, something drops beneath it and a thick vapor emerges.
"It's gas," I say, backing up. Are they trying to kill us?
"Relax. Just dry ice," Bald Guy says.
"Wait. What do you think this is all about?" Daniel asks, looking around to the three of us.
I take off my bag and gently toss it against the wall; looks like we'll be here for a while. The only thing I'm wondering is why I'm with a group of magicians; well, I'm guessing that Bald Guy must be one, too. That can't be an accident.
Bald Guy raises his hand to his head. "Hang on, hang on." Oh, so he's a mentalist. Great. Silence fills the room; everyone looks at him as he closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he grimaces, shaking his head, and sighs. "I got nothing."
"Okay, thank you. Thank you for the delay," Daniel remarks sarcastically.
The mentalist gestures with his arms, "I'm just trying to create the space for wisdom." The dry ice fog now covers the entire floor of the main room.
Haley/Henley crosses over to Daniel. "Danny, be honest. Did you do this?"
"No. Wait, did you?" He points to me. I'm shocked, but flattered. Daniel thinks I did this? That guy seems like he would be arrogant enough to believe I'd do that to impress him. Man, that would've required getting this apartment, outfitting it with that stuff. That's a lot of work and money that I don't have.
I scoff, "Well, I wish."
"Why didn't anyone ask me if I did it?" The mentalist asks. No one answers. Haley/Henley rolls her eyes. We spread out, exploring the apartment.
Daniel tries a light switch in the hall, I watch. "Electricity is out," I announce. Figures, I don't think anyone could actually live here.
The mentalist reaches up to a light bulb in the corner of the room, "Let's check," he says as he twists it tighter into the socket. The bulb lights up yellow. Three projectors that I didn't notice earlier come to life in beams of light and intersect in the middle of the room, over the symbol, creating a holographic image. The four of us come closer and I see that instead of one image, it's a bunch of little ones. There's the eye again, some blueprints of random contraptions, equations, and shapes that I can't make out.
"Blueprints," Haley/Henley observes.
"They're incredible," Daniel says.
"Who do you think did this?" I ask. It definitely wasn't any of us.
"I don't know, but I really want to meet them," Haley/Henley says. In the center of it all, the symbol that was on the floor earlier becomes bolder and enlarges. "It's a show."