“You will do all the card manipulations I did before the contract is executed.”
“Contract?”
In reply, Elliott watched the Great MacGuffin grasp some invisible object with both hands. Pulling them apart, he revealed a scroll of parchment.
“It's a standard contract,” MacGuffin said as he unrolled it. “Been using it for ages.”
Rather than roll up as Elliott expected, the document remained flat. The young man tried to read it, but could only make out his name. “It all looks like chicken scratches,” he complained.
“Ah, yes,” the magician observed. “Ancient Sumerian.” He shrugged, making a fist with his left hand. With a flourish, he used his right hand to pull a long quill. “I suppose I should update it someday. The typeface is cuneiform, by the way.”
“And I instantly gain your magic skills?” Elliott waivered.
“Absolutely,” MacGuffin reassured him.
Elliott paused, then took the pen and signed the document. “There,” he confirmed. “When do we begin?”
“Right away.” The Great MacGuffin tapped the parchment and it rolled up like a window shade. He took its ends between the palms of his hands and, pressing them together, made the scroll disappear. He took the quill from Elliott and with a flick of his wrist made it vanish. “Now,” he commanded the young man, “Take up the cards.”
Elliott picked up the deck as the old magician began calling out the moves.
“Hindu shuffle. Overhand shuffle.”
To Elliott's surprise, he performed them automatically with the same speed and skill as the old man.
“Fan,” MacGuffin ordered, taking a card from the deck and returning it.
Elliott finished by fanning the cards out on the table. Taking the last card, he laid it under the first and flipped the deck over, revealing a shuffled deck.
“Good, good,” the old magician said as Elliott flipped them back. “Again,” MacGuffin instructed.
“What the-” Elliott let the cards fall.
“Now, turn the top card over.”
Elliott did so. “Jokers — all jokers.” It must have been the vertigo that caused his vision to dim. He had to pause to wait for the feeling to go away.
The young man frowned then looked up. If the trick was a surprise, it was nothing compared to seeing himself across the table. “What the—” But Elliott's voice was suddenly hoarse and uncooperative. He pointed at the figure across from him only to discover his own hand gnarled and wrinkled with age.
Elliott's doppelganger rose to leave. “Thanks for the identity.” He winked. “Not to mention the lifespan.” And, stepping back, he vanished, saying, “Neat trick, huh?”
Copyright © 2009, 2011, 2015 by JohnW. Warnock