CHAPTER ONE: THE PLEDGE
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These elaborate, belle-epoque calligraphic-style letters in pastel tones seemed out of place in the fairground. However, the proclamations written upon the steam-punk, Jules Verne-inspired stand, made us stop in front of it, perplexed. It was a thing out of a Terry Giliam film, with a mural showing two metal cages with lightning arcs flaring between them, and a man disappearing from one to appear in the other. Jenny giggled nervously and her grip on my arm increased slightly. She looked up to me as if to say: do you dare?
On my own, I would never have done this. Never. A waste of money and a risk to my personal safety. I imagined they put you in a "vanishing cabinet" and tell you: "you are going to be teleported", then send a strong dose of chloroform mists your way, and make you faint. They open a trapdoor in the floor of the box you are in, and move you to the other "appearing cabinet" where you are supposed to be teleported to. They then make you breath fainting salts or something to wake you up, with a slight headache they will afterwards justify by saying it was due to the transmateralization or something just as improbable and sciency-sounding. The person that came with you is shocked to see you teleported, and you do not remember anything that happened to you. And if you went in there alone, well, I hope you knew exactly how much money you had on you when you went in. And how many kidneys.But Jenny and her green eyes were daring me, and when you are on your second date, you do whatever it takes.
This "teleportation" fairground stand was an ill-lit, wooden caravan parked between a loud and bright rubber-duck shooting stand, and a dazzlingly lit and fanfarous hoops-throwing stand. Its lack of sounds was a welcome change in this dizzying maze that assaulted our every sense while we were randomly strolling through it. On top of the caravan was a big metal cage like the one depicted on the mural. On the front of the caravan, there was a tainted window from which we could see the unstable light, and an imposing Gothic wooden door to which you got access after climbing three thick, worn-out steps. You had to admire the craftsmanship in making this caravan look so out of place.
I flashed Jenny a smile and with a "Well. Shall we?", which I hoped came out more optimistic than resigned, we climbed the steps. Before we could knock, the door pulled back, noiselessly.
A long and dangly sort of fellow, in a lab coat that was yellowing from age and crass, was anxiously holding the door open for us, half bowed, motioning us in. "For the tel.. teleportation I... I assume? Milady? Sir? this way, please, this way!"
The act was good. He had sparse blond hair (probably a wig), thick glasses and was ill-shaven. Jenny seemed to appreciate the effort and enthusiastically went in first. I followed, a bit less optimistic about the coming experience.
The room was a bit dusty. Just when you entered there was a large wooden desk behind which a female dwarf was sitting on a high stool, her back on the wall of the caravan, her legs resting on the table's top, reading a book entitled "The Aether theory's redemption through 7th dimensional perception". She looked like a miniature Frida Kahlo in a frilly red dress. The desk might have seemed large to me due to the dwarf sitting behind it, but upon reflection I believe it must not have been that big.
A bookcase full of leather-bound books separated this space from what seemed to be the parlour trick space. "So," I enquired, "how do we do this? How much?"
The gauntly one smiled excitedly: "Oh it is q... q... quite simple sir. You see, we attach this bonnet..t ..t" he held up what looked like an old aviator's cap fitted with small diodes, cables, coils and electrodes,"...bonnet, with the electrodes upon the volunt...t...t..."
"The client." interjected the dwarf. "Client, Albot, we put the electro-coil brain-cap upon the client."
"Sorry Minerva, yes, c... client. We put the cap on, you get inside the left transportator, concentrate, seriously concentrate, sir, lady, seriously, oh please do so seriously, do concentrate se"
"Concentrate on the other transportator." again interjected Minerva. "Do forgive Albot, he tends to go overboard. He thinks a bit of drama adds to the experience, but I can tell that you do not agree. I think that being teleported is already amazing enough. It is perfectly safe, a unique experience, 15 pounds a go, and you have to really concentrate on the other transportator. Think of its form, the little metal heart on its door, go smell the vanilla scent we put there. Memorize it as much as possible. Then we fit you with the electro-coil brain-cap. Keep your eyes on it and you will be teleported to the other side."
"Seriously? we are going to be teleported?" said Jenny in an excited voice. This date seemed to be going well for her, while I was thinking I was probably going to score her then "teleport" away on the morrow. Don't judge me.
And by the way, I did not introduce myself. Might as well, I could use some sympathy. Should I put a smiley here? Smilies make people like you more. Waiters that put a smiley on the check tend to get 8% more tips. Here it goes then: :)
So. Hello, my name is Jonathan Jonathan Black. I am a tall and lean male, currently in my early 30es, but in my late 20es when all this happened. I am going bald a bit early (20% earlier than I should), so I cut my brown hair very short. I have green eyes, and wear a pair of these nerdy, trendy glasses. If you did not already guess, I am a statistician. My father died when I was 6, my older brother Nathan started working very early to help my mom raise us. By us I mean my remaining two siblings, Noel and Gaby. I like Monty Python, physics, chess, and swimming. I am a good cook, and a fiercely loyal Arsenal fan. I am a bit manipulative but that is due to a childhood where I tried to get out of violent tight spots by using my vocabulary. Nice to meet you. :)
But let me go back to my story now. I don't have too much time, and there is still a lot to be said. Where was I? Ah, yes. In the "teleportation" stand. Things got weird here. I payed, and Jenny got fitted with the swimming bonnet with cables attached to it by the twitchy and overacting Albot. She then proceeded to examine the cage into which she was going to be teleported, while I was looking around trying to figure the con out. When Jenny seemed satisfied with the cage, having smelled the vanilla incense, touched the cage, looked at it as instructed, acting like a teacher's pet, she asked whether I could film her while this was happening. Minerva did not see any inconvenience, and even offered to take a picture of both of us, afterwards, but asked Jenny to stay focused on the target cage and to enter the other one.
She then got in the first cage. The turbines in the corner of the room started turning, I was made to sit in a comfortable chair, in a ribboned off area. Albot brought me a glass of water, which I held but did not drink. I remained cautious of the possibility of being drugged. Minerva went to what seemed a control board, with a picture of Nicolas Tesla hung on top of it. I have to admit I was, by now, extremely curious as to how they would pull the heist. The cage was not a closed space, so I would see if they drugged her. I could see no projectors to create a 3-D image or something like that, not to mention that I seriously doubted that for 15 pounds, they would have such equipment. By that point I was actually stressed. I remembered from a movie the three parts of a magic trick: The Pledge, The Turn and The Prestige.
The Pledge is when the magician presents you something ordinary. Usually a deck or cards or a bird or something. Here it was the two cages. They are empty, and you can see through them. He usually asks you to inspect them to see they are real, normal, not tampered with. But obviously, they are quite tampered with. Jenny went into the cage, the cables on her cap got connected to some other cables protruding from the top of the cage. Things felt tense. It is fair to say that the Pledge here was amazingly well done.
Minerva asked Jenny if she was ready. Jenny stayed with her eyes focused on the other cage, and just nodded. Taking a deep breath, Minerva threw a series of switches, and static electricity filled the room. Arcs of lightning zapped between the bars of the first cage. Jenny was half obscured, or rather concealed behind the arcs, for they were so bright there was no obscurity in the room. Then the light got extremely intense and just as suddenly dimmed. The cage was empty, both cages were empty. Where Jenny had been hung limply the bonnet they had put on her head. A pale hovering ball of light, what I remembered to have read about as ball lightning was slowly travelling between the two cages.
This was the second stage of the act: "The Turn". Where the magician takes the ordinary something, which in our case are the cages and electric coils and makes it do something extraordinary such as vanish Jenny. Now you're looking for the secret... I know I was. But you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking, and neither was I. We don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. My brain could not understand what was happening, and all I could do was repeat, like a mantra in my head, "this is the turn of the trick, this is the turn of the trick".
If this was a magic trick, it would not be the moment to clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part called "The Prestige". I was waiting, sure enough, for the ball lightning to reach the other cage. When it did, a roaring sound shook the room, and all the lights went dark. And there she was, Jenny, smiling like crazy.
"Did you see it? Did you film it? I was a ball of energy! Waaah!"
I was shocked beyond words. I looked at the 3G phone in my hand, and it was off. I had been filming but it seemed to have shut down. I heard Albot snivelling, crouched in a corner. I turned back towards Jenny, who oblivious to my shock went on babbling:
"Jonathan? Hey! This was amazing."
"Yes, I guess it was;" cut her Minerva in a very stern voice. "Here you go young lady.", she opened the door for her. "You must go now."
Still numb from what I had seen, I did not protest, and we were politely, yet firmly ushered to the exit.
The rest of the night is of no real importance. Not concentrated on manipulating Jenny, I was very relaxed and ended having some nice, unfocused memories of a pleasant rest of the date with her. I even slept with her, and did not leave like a thief. But that was no longer important to me. I was locked on finding the secret of the parlour trick. It made no sense. I questioned Jenny, not too insistingly about what happened, what she remembered, and she insisted that she had been locked on the other cage, thinking only about that, then suddenly she felt very very energetic, somehow sipping out from herself and floating towards the other cage. She insisted she did not feel any pain. I did not push the matter any more, yet kept seeing her. I had to somehow remain close to what had happened, but I did not dare go back to the fairground.
The cellphone had not recorded anything. (Jenny was a bit disappointed about that)
There was no mention of any such thing anywhere on the Internet, and I trust I know how to perform quite extensive internet searches.
I could not talk about it to anyone. I would be taken for a loony.
I searched the book Minerva had been reading, and it had no ISBN.
For a bit I tried to pretend nothing had happened, focused on my work, but I could not forget it. It was as though the world had a before and an after that date. I told Jenny this very thought, and I think she misinterpreted it. She told me she felt I was taking it too seriously, and that she was not ready for something that serious in her life. For the first time in my life I got dumped without it being the culmination of a series of well placed remarks and psychological prodding on my part. It was a shock.
I did not really care about Jenny, herself, to be honest. My need was of a higher level. It was a need of understanding. Devoid of my link to that event, I roamed from bar to bar, getting inebriated. Alcohol brings you courage I thought, and indeed, I helped me in my decision to return to the fairground.
I arrived well after midnight., when the stands were almost all closed. I stumbled through the alleys, in search of the caravan, but I could not find it. I was getting desperate, so I started asking around. I was confronted to many a blank stares and to mute disdain, even hostile reactions, which is only normal since I must have stunk alcohol from a mile away and was pestering people about a teleportation stand.
Next day I woke up in a police station, stinking drunk.
And now we are today. A month gone, and I have no more clues as to what happened than I had when all this happened. I am doubting my sanity.
This is my tale. I had to get it out there.
If anyone knows anything about this, you can contact me at:
JonathBl (aT) gmail {DoT} com
Thank you for reading,
Jonathan Black
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