Autopsy of a Mind

Earle Desmond, world-renowned magician slash illusionist. He wore a mask, the point of which eluded me. This had been his new forte. For the past three or four shows, he had been wearing a mask.

In an interview, he said that it added to the air mystery. In my opinion, it probably helped him with some of the tricks he performed.

"Do you think he is going to produce a rabbit from his hat?" Sebastian leaned in and whispered in my ear. I stifled a laugh and turned to him with a curious look.

"Have you ever watched a magic show?" I asked, knowing the answer. It would be unlikely that he would willingly go to watch one. This was a rare situation and I knew he had come because it piqued his interest. He wanted to get a glimpse into the inner world of the magician so that he could profile the guy.

I didn't know how it would help him, but whatever he wanted to do was fine by me.

"I did get invited to a birthday party when I was in elementary school and they had a magician. That's how I know about the rabbit in the hat trick." He nodded sagely.

"Magicians have long abandoned those tricks. Now, it is more about psychologically pressuring your audience into believing they are a god and doing dangerous acts."

"You must be bored enough to watch these things," he commented off-handedly. On the stage, Earle was speaking to the audience, asking them questions and predicting the answers.

"That's true. I watch a lot of shows and youtube in my spare time." Especially at night when sleep didn't come to me. I would spend hours upon hours looking at inconsequential content, taking in information I would probably never use. I had a phase where I would watch people choose wedding dresses and marry at first sight. It wasn't my proudest moment, but so long as someone could steal my dreams from me, I would have to settle for such things.

"Explain this trick to me, then," he asked. He could probably figure it out for himself, but I could see that he was mildly bored and wanted me to talk to him so that he could get through it. Knowing him, he could have just walked out without another word. I didn't know what was holding me back.

The case? Could be. But there seemed to be something else.

My neighbor nudged me once. I turned to him, bewildered before I recognized the expression in his eyes. Irritation.

"Can your boyfriend and you keep it down? We bought these tickets weeks in advance." Weeks.

"I'm sorry," I apologized quickly and turned back. My brows scrunched.

"Do you see anything new in this guy?" Sebastian said suddenly. I looked at the stage and scrunched my brow.

"I've never seen this before, to be honest. But from my experience, this trick takes quite a bit of ruthlessness to do. They probably had to hurt some animals." This was what pissed me off the most. While a lot of magicians spoke against animal cruelty, some acted like they were animal right's activists but used cruel methods.

"I can see that. That's why I asked. I don't quite like this man. He has a cocky air about him and he views his audience as a nuisance… simply a source of attention and pedestal to shoot to fame, nothing more." His analysis threw me off a little.

"I admit he is cocky, but wanting to shoot to fame should be wrong." I looked at him and frowned. "He is incredibly famous. One of the top 5 magicians in the world, actually." Sebastian scoffed.

"He seems subpar to be honest." I shrugged.

"I'm not a connoisseur, so I wouldn't know." The tricks remained controlled.

"I present to you, the final act of the evening!" the magician exclaimed.

I sat straight and concentrated.

A metal monstrosity appeared out of the side, wheeled in by two beautiful women. I rolled my eyes and tried not to think about the sexism in the industry.

It was a metallic bull… from what I could see, it was bronze. I found myself confused and fascinated at the same time. I had never seen a trick like this. The bull was pried open and the magician showed us the inside.

"As you can see, there is nothing inside." He called on a member of the audience. "Sir, come, stand by me. I have an important task for you." His demeanor had changed. The cockiness was gone. It was somewhat replaced by a pure delight.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Sebastian shifting to match my position.

"Do you see how his body language changed completely?" he whispered. I nodded.

"Why do you think that?" I asked.

"This is probably the first time he is showing this trick and he is vying for validation from the audience. It is a mixture of joy and performativity. He wants the audience to mirror his delight, to tell him how fascinated they are… how they are dying to know what will come next." I nodded.

"It's like revealing your thesis after you have found all the data to back it." I had felt that way quite a bit, and I could imagine it would be the same for anyone who had to write theses.

"Exactly."

"You will simply have to screw the bull shut and then light it on fire." The audience member, a teenage girl, looked at him in confusion but nodded nonetheless. "As you see, this pedestal is used for an artificial bonfire." He then turned to address the larger audience. "Tonight, I will make the impossible happen. Pinocchio once wanted to turn into a real boy… tonight, this bronze bull will take a life of its own."

I squinted. He was going to make a real bull appear in front of such a big crowd without any covers?

"I will forge it with the fire that you light," he said, pointing straight at the girl.