Grande Allegro

CW: Eating disorders

Claudia gathers the letters. Each one had been sealed with a signet and a blotch of wax. Red wax. Claudia had opened each one with a letter opener shaped like a mini-sword. She had been careful. They still look unopened. She feels the weight of the letters in her hands, holding them like a sandwich. She could eat them. Truthfully, she already has, for the contents of every letter was already deep inside of her. She fed off the memory. The thrill of opening each letter and reading what was inside. Poetry. Unrhymed. Formless. But poetry.

Jack flips a card over. It wasn't the card that the man was expecting. It never is. Three card Monte. The camera captures it perfectly. The camera captures the man's reaction. Stunned. He is stunned.

Claudia sits on the floor. She's wearing tights and a long pair of basketball shorts. She places the letters back in the zipper pocket of her dance bag. She pulls a red sweatshirt over her head. Like the wax. Red. Red is her color. Her skin is almost porcelain. She's literally white. Dark black hair. Black Mexican hair. First generation. Born in Sacramento. At 29, she still sleeps in the bed at her mother's house but rarely. She lives in so many different places, though. She hardly sleeps at home.

Jack deals more cards. This isn't three card Monte. This is a full blown out magic trick. A day later. Same camera. Same light. A new group of strangers amazed with their jaws hanging open. He can turn the cards into water. He can turn the cards into ducklings. He can turn the cards into god. He has over 100,000 followers. Fans. Lovers of magic. Jack of Hearts. That's what he calls himself. The one-eyed Jack. Quite literally. Jack was born with only one eye that worked. They eventually took out the dead eye. Everyday he squeezes a shell of an eye into the hole where his eyeball used to be. But look carefully. The fake eye is often printed with the image of a jack of hearts. Sometimes.

Claudia is once again destroying her pointe shoes. It seems like at least once every 3 months she gets new demands. It's probably the most popular thing she does. Peeling apart the sole. Pulling the nail out. Bashing the shoes on the Marley floor. This is what she does to all her shoes. Sews the elastic that will hold the shoe on her foot. Shoots jet glue into the sole. It dries quickly. It helps keep the shoe alive. She gets a new set of shoes every month. 30 pairs a month. She’s sponsored. She has close to 700,000 followers on her YouTube channel. Millions of views. She's a consistent influencer. She puts out videos four times a week. Three shorts. One vlog. She edits them carefully. She drops shorts throughout the week. Just a few minutes long. Just enough time to show off what she's eating that day. To talk about Pilates. To talk about retirement. (At 29, she might be running out of time.) She has talked about menstruation. She has talked about how thin she is. And today she is destroying her shoes. Left. And then right.

The woman looks up after Jack finishes his trick. She notices his eye. She can see that it's a jack of hearts. Why didn’t she notice this before? She puts her hand to her mouth to hide her shock. It's a bit unnerving to see somebody with a fake eye. It's downright disturbing to realize the fake eye has something painted on it. But what makes it even worse is that the card she had pulled from the deck and held in her hands was a jack of hearts. How did you do that, she questions. And then she laughs. And he says…magic. The woman has no other explanation, and so she nods her head. He is magic. Her thought. He says open your purse. Look inside. Don't let me see. She opens her purse. Don't say what you see. But put your hand on the thing that's in your purse that wasn't in your purse when you left your house. It wasn't in your purse when you were driving here to this theater. And it wasn't in your purse just a few minutes ago when you had thrown your hand to your face and realized my eye was…. creepy. Reach in your purse. And she does.

Oh my god, she says. It's a small white box. But the walls of the box were brittle and thin. He tells her to crack it open. Just like an egg. She does. She screams and nearly drops the box. What do you see inside? What is in that is in the brittle box? It drops back down into her purse and she reaches down to pull it out, holding it like it was a dead mouse. She struggles to speak, but once she gets her voice she says it and then the crowd is amazed. It's an eye. It's a plastic eye. And what's unusual about the eye? It has the jack of hearts painted on it! And where had you seen this before? Well my card was a jack of hearts. And where else had you seen it before? He waits.. A pause. In your eye. What is in my eye? You had this…you have this thing in your eye. You have a jack of hearts painted on your eye. I do? He looks around at the crowd. Does anyone else see a jack of hearts painted on my eye? No. It's blue like the other one. It even moves. Now the trick is on her. She sounds like a crazy person. Look, I didn't put that box in my purse. And I certainly didn't put this eyeball in my purse. Well then there's only one explanation, Jack says quietly. He looks up at the crowd. He closes his eyes. And when he opens them there is the jack of hearts. Painted carefully in the middle of his right eye. People usually fall down at that point. People sometimes faint outright. But they always make that sound. That swishing sound. When all the audience sucks the air into their lungs at one time. One man's voice squeaks out of his mouth…he is magic. That was magic. Right? Jack looks at the man. Yes. That's correct. I am magic. I am the jack of hearts.

His brother chuckles from behind his iPhone. He's been recording this whole scene. Tonight Jack will edit it, and tomorrow they will drop it. Everyone signs the release. Everyone except the woman with the purse. She's just not convinced. They'll have to blur out her face. That makes the trick better to be honest. She's a victim. She's a victim of magic. And we don't always want to see the victim's face. Do we?

Claudia unscrews the top of her thermos. Inside she has a delicious vegan concoction. A mixture of sweet potatoes and lentils and peas and tofu and sauerkraut. Perfect. She starts to pick at the food. She can only eat about a third of it. She'll dump it out and edit it later. She doesn't want everyone to keep accusing her of having an eating disorder. Especially since she does. But she's better. Her body is like a machine. It's not food to her. It's fuel. Calories go through her. Eight hours of dance will do that to you. Practice practice practice. Fouetté à la seconde. 32. 42. 60. She could do this all day. Magic. That's what her classmates would say. Hard work isn't magic. She scolds them softly. Hard work is hard work. She drinks from her giant water bottle and then returns to the center. A few years ago she almost lost her body. She was almost forced to eat with a g-tube. She almost lost her freedom. And she certainly wasn't going to be able to dance. A counselor made that point clear to her. That was the day she started to believe she could get well. And that's just what she did. She got well. And she's well now. Thin? Naturally. Eating disorder? I guess it never goes away. But she did eat. She did fuel herself with the only fuel available. Food. She ate food. She would edit the videos to be just a little bit of a lie. But she wanted to be healthy for her 700,000 followers. She wanted them to stop. That was the second most popular topic on her channel. Eat a hamburger. Have a burrito. I hear they make great burritos in Mexico. I envy your body, a 12-year-old said. That's about the right time for it to start. Claudia told her to eat. Claudia told her that food is fuel. Food makes the pirouettes go round and round and round. She learned that the hard way. She knows she's much better. Just digging a fork into the food used to make her shut down. Now she eats. Not as much as her followers think she eats, but she eats. She eats enough.

Jack and his brother pick up everything and pack it. His brother didn't really like the magic. He knew how most of the tricks worked. But not all of them. Not the eye trick. Sometimes he might actually believe his little brother is magic. But that thought didn't last long. It's time for Harvey's, he said. I need a drink and a burger and that waitress who loves to wait on you. You pulled a card out of her tits. I think she would have let you do a lot more if you tried. But Jack doesn't try. Paul, I could never date a waitress. Yes. I know. The dancer. You follow her. You comment on every post she makes. But she doesn't recognize you as being alive. She knows I'm alive. I doubt it. I don't doubt it. Well that would be a hell of a magic trick if you could get her to notice you. To acknowledge you. I'll do more than that. Paul picks up the camera stand and packs it into the bag. I need a beer.

They walk back to the van. Jack of Hearts is painted on the side. He'll busk tomorrow. Make another video. He also had a system for posting videos. He posted more shorts than full videos. The full videos came whenever he traveled to a convention of magic. That's when his vlog would always capture all the magicians who are not as good as he. He was the best. He didn't need anyone to tell him. He didn't need to win any competitions. He just needed that lady to suck all the air out of the atmosphere into her lungs with shock. How did that little box get inside her bag? Paul didn't know. He didn't want to know.

He's been living with his magical brother for a while. And now he works for him. Full time. Manager. Roadie. Magician's assistant. He gave up his life a long time ago. Now this was his life. Filming his brother shocking the world. They both had a calling. Jack and Paul. Each one was following their fate. Jack sat in the back of the van like it was a limousine. This is when he dives into Claudia. She has a new video. He'd seen her break her shoes at least a dozen times. But he never got tired of it. He never got tired of the noise she made when she pulled the nail out. He never got tired of seeing the sewing or the bending of the shoe. The shoes. And he never lost a chance to write. He was never out of poems. That's what beauty will do to you. When you follow beauty you realize it's infinite. The feeling inside is forever.

He knows he is in love with her. What he doesn't know…what his magic couldn't tell him was whether or not she had any feelings for him. Did she even read the letters? She had a PO box just like he does. People like to send things to influencers. He didn't know why. But he was glad she had a PO box. That way each one of his letters could get to her. Musical instruments. That was the theme of the stamps he bought. The last one was a cello. The one before that, a saxophone. Forever. Forever was printed on every one of the stamps. The prices would never go up. They were frozen in time. Forever. He understood. He felt frozen in time whenever he watched her videos. And watched. And watched. Commenting on every one. And every one of his comments would somehow include the word magic.

She knows who sent her the letters. She knows that he has a YouTube channel as well. She knows he does magic. She knows he's rather good looking in a semitic way. She likes his jaw line and the way his cheeks run straight down to his mouth. She’s not alone. Women and girls clearly love a magic man based on the comments he would get. She had even seen the videos with the eye trick. She doesn't believe that he has a false eye. But maybe. Magic is a lie, she tried to believe that. But he didn't seem like a liar. Magic man? Hmpf.

He wasn't going to explain his tricks, but he certainly wasn't afraid to take the chance. He wants to turn off his comment section because he didn't want some other magician trying to guess at how he did what he did. At least half the letters that he received in his PO box were people trying to figure out the tricks. Or people who DID figure out the tricks. Not the big ones. Not the eyeball trick. Not the levitation trick. Not the Don Juan trick. That's the one where he would make someone in the audience fall in love with him. That was a hell of a trick. But now the letters. The letters weren't a trick. And what he wrote in the letters wasn't a trick. The signet and the wax…well they were brilliant ideas, but not a trick. He knows he can't trick her. He knows she could break him just like her shoes. And that thrills him because no one else had ever broken him. No one else could figure him out.

He leaves the comments on just in case she wants to respond to his “tricks.”

Paul sits down at the edge of the bar and looks up at Mandy the bartender. Mandy knows his order. He wants a Corona with no lime. And a shot of Bulliett rye. Paul is undoubtedly an alcoholic. But his little brother saved him. Paul was maybe 2 moves away from being homeless when his brother came to him. He lifted his brother over his shoulder the way a fireman would save a little girl from a burning building. Jack is strong. He keeps himself in tip top shape. It isn’t enough to do the magic. He doesn’t have a cape or a top hat. But he knows that he has to keep his viewers, and he knows that a majority of his viewers are women. Jack has abs. An eight pack. The day he saved his brother was the day he struck a deal with him. Jack said that he needed an assistant.

Paul refused to wear a skimpy outfit. Jack said he didn't need that type of assistant. He needed someone to help with the cameras. Someone to help with the setup and the breakdown. And someone to answer calls about Jack's performances out in the world. The ones that paid him money. Jack told Paul that if he worked for him from 9:00 to 3:00, he could drink all he wanted after that. But from 9:00 to 3:00 he would have to be sober. Paul thought about it, but it didn't take long to come up with the answer. No way. No way I'm working for my younger brother. I'll pay for the booze said Jack. I'll go with you to the bar, and I'll pay for your booze. Paul paused. Paul only worked so that he could afford the booze and have the crappy bar food that kept him going. But working for his brother this way is a better gig than any he could find working the line at a diner. Riding his bike for Uber eats. He lost his license. His bike was the only way to get around on his own. Jack let Paul drive the van even though he knew Paul didn't have a license. Jack's magic was powerful. If they ever got caught, Jack would get him out of it. Every time. He tells the officer that if he could figure out a simple magic trick, then they both could be taken to jail. But if the cop failed, he would let them go. They were five for five. Still driving. Paul was still behind the wheel. The only time Jack ever drove the van was when he would dump his brother into the back, drunk, and then take the short ride to his apartment. That's another thing that made Paul pause even after he had said no way. He lives with his brother rent free.