MAGIC (24 page)

“I’m
aware
of your opinion, Corky, you don’t have to say it again—”

“—a little
common sense
never hurt, Peggy.”

“Ahh, sweet mystery of life at last I’ve found you,” Fats blasted. “AHHHHHHHHHH at last I know the meaning of it all.”

“I thought you were locked,” Corky said.

“Well
somebody’s
got to rescue you two from yourselves.”

“And you’re a guaranteed ray of sunshine, is that it?” Corky said.

“Well I don’t want to brag, schmucko, but they didn’t make me social director at Devil’s Island for nothing.”

“Not so good,” Corky said.

“I could always sing my ‘Duke’ song again.”

“Spare us,” Peggy said.

“You’re a tough house but—wait—wait—I’ve got it, we’ll have a Vera Hruba Ralston festival—no, nuts, I forgot my projector.”

Peggy started smiling. “God she was terrible. My mother was a movie freak—she even named me after Peggy Ann Garner.”

“I didn’t know that,” Corky said.

“Well my God, you guys are just beginning with each other—Peg probably doesn’t know you save your toenails—he does—fabulous collection—he’s been written up in
Nails Unlimited
—that’s kind of the bible of the toenail crowd—it’s a minor subculture, like
Star Trek
freaks and people who keep Ring Ding wrappers.” He looked at the two of them. “Things are warming up a little, right, right?”

“Some,” Corky admitted.

Fats said to Peg, “Get Corky’s cards, I’ll read your fortune.”

“Does Corky have cards here?”

“Does a bear evacuate in the woods?—notice how I’m toning up my language?—I got to, the Pope’s hot for me to play the Vatican next Holy Week and I don’t want the Pontiff getting pissed at me.” Peggy laughed. “In the case. There should be half a dozen decks.”

“I need to keep in practice,” Corky said as Peg brought back several decks of cards.

“Security blankets and you know it, schmucko.” Peg held out the cards. “Give me a hand,” Fats said, and Corky came up and helped.

“Spread the cards,” Fats said, “so I can concentrate.”

Corky fanned with one hand.

“Hmmm,” Fats said, studying the cards. “The cards tell all.”

“Like what?” Peg asked.

Fats shut his eyes. “Your name … is … it’s coming through clearly, yes, your name is Peggy Ann Blow—oops—”

“The Pope’s gonna love slips like that,” Corky said.

Fats looked at the cards again. “Snow, and you’re—the sex is coming now—a
woman.”

“Most definitely,” Corky said.

“And you’re scared,” Fats went on, “about are you doing the right thing, going off with the king of the toenail hoarders but the cards say chances are pretty good because he is a drooler, true, but an honest one, and you are a lady who digs honesty so all in all I would say if you can teach him to take a bath once a week whether he needs it or not, you got as good a shot as anyone of walking off into the sunset together.”

“Thank you,” Peggy said softly.

“Enough treacle,” Fats said. “Corky, entertain us, make a little magic.”

Corky shook his head. “Not in the mood.”

“All right,
I’ll
do it then.”

“You do magic too?” Peg asked.

Fats shook his head. “Corky does magic, I can only do tricks, self-working stuff mostly, the garbage end of the legerdemain business. How’ll I start? Hmmm.” He closed one eye, tilted his head, paused. Then he said, “What the hell, let’s start with a You Do as I Do.”

“A what?”
from Peg.

“Time passers is all, a series of tricks all with the same basic gimmick, they work great if you don’t know, once you do they’re a yawn.”

“Show me.”

“You want the patter or just the trick?”

“Whatever.”

“The bare bones are kind of nothing, you take two decks and shuffle them separately and then you pick a card from one of the decks and cut the cards and hand me that deck and you take mine and find your card and I take yours and pull the
same
card from your deck.”

“That’s not a trick,” Peg said.

“It is, believe me,” Fats began—

“—it is not a trick—”

“You’re gonna make me give away the gimmick, you keep on like that,” Fats told her.

“Magic,” Peg said. She was starting to slump down.

“It’s so simple you’re gonna whoopse,” Fats said. “See, the whole secret is that when you shuffle I peek at the bottom card of your deck when you’re shuffling and then when you pick a card well, you’ve put the card you picked on top and complete the cut and that brings the bottom card which
I
know on top of your card that
you
know so when you give me your deck, all I have to do is find the card below the bottom card and that’s your card.”

“… lying …”

“I know you can’t believe it,” Fats said, “ ’cause it sounds too dumb to fool anybody but Corky, he makes a big production out of it sometimes, especially when he wants to fuck some broad he’s picked up and he gives a big spiel about how they were meant for each
other and he can read her mind and usually the first time he suckers her in by missing and so when he does it she thinks, my God, this is kismet, let’s hit the sack, you can’t believe how much people want to believe in magic, my God, Corky’s fucked stews from coast to coast with that one and …”

And then Peg stood and her determination to withstand attack had been so strong that when it crumbled, there was nothing left behind it, no defense, so the hysteria came fast and her face fell apart and she spun for the door and was halfway up the hill before Corky could grab her but she was a powerhouse by then and he couldn’t keep hold, and he couldn’t get a word in at the door of the main house and he couldn’t hold her tightly enough in his arms on the stairs and when she locked herself in the bedroom he pounded, pleading till his hands bruised but she was weeping far too out of control to hear or care or understand and when Corky finally realized she would not let him in, would never let him in, he found his way back to the cabin and Fats was staring at him as he entered and before Corky could get a word in Fats was screaming,
“That was just the beginning”
loud and clear.

Corky shook his head. “That was the end.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I would have left you nice before. Comfortable. A warm place, decent, safe. Now I don’t care if the cat gets your eyes.”

“Listen to him.”

“Done talking.”

“Hear me out.”

“Sorry.”

“You’ve got to hear me.”

“Make it fast.”

“I will, I will, more Jesus, but don’t stand hovering like the Frankenstein monster, sit down.”

“No more jokes either,” Corky said, as he sat in the
desk chair. Fats was in the overstuffed one, eyes wide open.

“Why do you think I blew the whistle?”

“To cause pain.”

“That’s not the main reason though, why else?”

“Because you were jealous. Because I was leaving you. You were angry. Want me to go on?”

“You’re missing why I did it.”

“Educate me then.”

“You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“It’s a lulu.”

“Hit me, I’m braced.”

“I DID IT BECAUSE I COULD.”

Corky blinked.

Fats started laughing. “You don’t get it yet, do you?”

Corky shook his head.

“WHY DIDNT YOU STOP ME?”

Corky just waited.

“YOU DIDN’T BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T.” Fats was roaring now. “He still doesn’t get it. He’s such a major league dimfuckingwit numskull he’s sitting there and he doesn’t understand. Remember a little ago when you were dumping me you said I was a very imposing force and it’s scary? You said there were times when I was almost too strong for you? Schmucko, I’ve been too strong all along, all those stupid goddam wisdoms you helped me hunt and peck, ‘I’m worried about Corky’ ‘Corky’s afraid of success’ ‘What happens to all those girls Corky sees only once,’ you thought you were faking me when it was ass-back-wards, I was faking you.”

“You got your rocks off now?”

“Not quite. I laid low, kept the quiet profile, things were going good enough, I don’t mind a little limelight sharing when there’s common gain, but then tonight, when I
begged
you, when I
humbled
myself and you said tough buddy, I’m out for number one now, well,
that tore it.
Where was she when the gas was on?
I took a nothing, a technical whiz with the charm of Dick Nixon and I created a dazzler. And no two-bit hunk is gonna come along and ladle off the cream. It’s you and me, not you and her, only from now on, it’s gonna be me and you.”

“Think it’s maybe time to change the record?”

“If you’re bored sitting there, by all means walk around.”

Corky started pacing.

“Go in and splash some water on your face, maybe that’ll help arouse your interest.”

Corky went in to the sink, turned on the cold spigot, splashed some water on his face. When he came back out, Fats was laughing. “I must have missed the joke.”

“You
are
the joke.”

“You’re too fast for the room I guess.”

Fats was laughing so hard now it was hard for him to get the words out. “Those tricks—the ones we told Peggy about, those are called You Do as I Do.”

“Well?”

“You could call
our
trick You Do as I Say. Sit down, Corky.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Have a chair, keed.”

Corky sat in the desk chair.

“Yawn.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Sure y’are.”

Corky yawned, and stretched.

“Attaboy. Crawl.”

Corky started crawling around the floor.

“Imitate me.”

“Hey this is fanfuckingtastic,” Corky said.

“Up and at ’em.”

Corky jumped to his feet.

Fats picked up the rhythm—“Okay skip, okay hop, okay spin around, okay touch the ceiling, touch the floor, Fats says giggle, Fats says stop,” and Corky,
after skipping and spinning and giggling stood there catching his breath.

“Believe me now, schmucko?”

Corky nodded.

“It’s our secret, yours and mine. I’ll handle it smooth in public, we’ll never let on. And then in private, I’ll have my little games like this just to remind you that it was a little bit of a boo-boo when you decided to dump me for the broad.”

Corky continued to breathe heavily.

“You can talk now, say whatever you want, as long as I want you to, when I’m bored, we’ll play some more.”

“Lis—”

“—I’m bored, let’s play, get the knives.”

“Knives?”

“The Duker’s, go get ’em.”

Corky went to the kitchenette, brought out the knives.

“What do you think we ought to do with ’em?” Fats said.

“Want me to whittle something?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m very fast. I can make things in a flash. Really.”

“I’m looking for something with a little more pizzazz.”

Corky just stood there waiting.

Fats had to laugh. “What is that whittling shit? Trying to fake me out? Those days is gone, schmucko. I’m with you every step of the way. Now. Tell me. What do you think we ought to do with those nice sharp knives of old Duke’s?”

“Don’t,” Corky said.

“I don’t feel any passion in your tone yet.”

“Please don’t kill her.”

“I would never deprive you of that pleasure, you think I’m cruel or something?”

“I can’t.”

“I got faith in you.”

“She won’t let me in. The door’s locked. It’s thick. I can’t break it down.”

“You’ll use the old noggin. I’m just gonna wait down here nice and comfy and then when you get back, you can tell me all about it.”

“I WON’T.”

“How’s your head, Cork?”

“My head?”

“Yeah. I think you’re getting yourself a little migraine.”

“No. I’m not.” But his left eye was starting to blink.

“Feels like it could be a bad one. One of those gut wrenchers that can go on for days.”

Corky’s hands went to his eye, pressed hard.

“Drop your hands.”

Corky put his hands down.

“It’s getting bad fast, Cork, I can tell. You’re losing color.”

“Please stop it.”

“It’s really drilling deep, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Surprise!”

Corky stopped blinking.

“Going away now?”

Corky nodded.

“Not deep at all, right? Almost gone?”

Nod.

“Totally gone?”

Nod.

“Want it back? Want it back a hundred times worse,
a hundred times worse and a hundred days long?
Yes?”

Shake.

“Then get a wiggle on.”

Corky put the knives in his back trouser pockets, started for the door.

“And do it beautifully,” Fats called.

“Duke?” Peggy called when the knock came. She was lying across the bed, tears past, past tears, empty.

“Me.”

Peggy stared at the ceiling.

“I left schmucko down at the cabin. I had to talk to you Peg, open the door, huh?”

“… Duke doesn’t want you here when he gets back, that goes for me now …”

“Duke’s got nothing against me. He laughed at me at breakfast.”

“… I mean it, Corky …”

“I told you, he’s down at the cabin, we’re the only ones that can straighten this out, Peg. That’s why I came up alone.”

To her amazement, Peg started to cry again. Funny; she didn’t think there were any left.

“I’ve got a present that’ll make you smile.”

“… go ’way, Corky …”

“Fats.”

“… all right, go away, Fats.”

“Well, at least that’s done, at least we know who we are.”

Peggy began wondering about Duke, pushing her mind to him, trying to figure how it might work out. They’d sell this place, get beans for it, but maybe enough for a camper, a trailer, something so they could live cheap. Head west maybe to Washington. The country was supposed to be beautiful. Rainy a lot, but—

“Don’t you want my present, Peggy?”

“I don’t want anything, Fats.”