There, standing on top of a rather large,
dusty old theatrical trunk, projecting all the enthusiasm of a
ringmaster on the opening night of the circus, was the magician.
Waving a silver-tipped magic wand in the air while shouting his
patter out to the crowd, this engaging street conjurer made
quite a striking impression. He was attired in a classic black
tuxedo with tails, including a red satin vest adorned with
sequined lapels, which sparkled brightly in the afternoon sun.
On top of his head, tilted just slightly to one side was the
mandatory black top hat, the kind that pops open with the flick
of the wrist. He also sported the standard, well-trimmed
magician’s beard and mustache.
From the streaks of silver-white at his
temples, or the salt and pepper coloring of his facial hair, I
would have guessed him to be in his late forties or maybe even
fifty. But perhaps because of his physical condition, or from
his youthful manner as he played to the crowd, he seemed to be
much younger than the smile-wrinkles around his eyes, or the
years of wisdom hidden behind them.
Indeed, he had all of the trappings of a truly
magical man. Well, not really a man, more like a riddle, an
enigma. Half of him seemed fairy-tale wizardry – the other
half, performer-reality. He looked as if he could really do
magic – not just tricks – I mean real magic. I think
it was his eyes; he certainly had the eyes of a magician. At
times they sparkled more than his lapels. There was something
about his smile, too. When he smiled, it was with a rather
mischievous grin hinting that, behind those mystical blue eyes
and that sly smile, he might be up to something devious.
One thing about his appearance, though, did
strike me as peculiar – kind of out of place. I noticed a
small silver chain dangling around his neck. Where there should
have been a medallion, or perhaps a crystal of some sort,
attached to it, instead, pinned to the chain with a simple
safety pin was a small square of tattered white cloth. The
material looked to be nothing more than a small piece of an old
rag or the corner of an old handkerchief. However, I concluded
from observing the magician’s interactions with the strange
necklace that it was possibly much more.
