As they stepped away, Eric cried a loud protest to those in line, “She said I have no future, that I’ll be imprisoned this very night!”
“No surprise there,” remarked a passerby.
They went in search of Matt Sorenson, whom they found beside the nearby Lyric Stage, ready to assist another performer doing magic tricks for kids. Eric had taught him some sleight of hand that he still struggled with, but Eric knew that this wasn’t the reason Matt looked nervous. He had stage fright and had joked that if he could do magic for real, the first spell he’d cast would be something to cure him of this condition.
Eric saw Matt’s green eyes spot him and Ryan. Matt made a sign with his hand. Hi, the fingers said.
Eric made his own gesture. Hey. You’ll be fine. Picture them naked.
No thanks.
Suit yourself. There’s a hot redhead at your one o’clock. Eric saw Matt look that way and waited for the reaction.
Dick.
Made you look. Remember, tonight at Anna’s.
Ok.
See ya.
Right.
Matt watched them turn away in search of bored people to entertain, wishing he could do the same. Just then the other illusionist called to him for help, and he steeled his nerves to step on stage. A sea of faces and applause greeted him. Everywhere he looked eyes met his. They were inescapable. His heart fluttered and suddenly his stomach churned, and he fell to his knees, vomiting all over the floor. Thinking it was part of the act, the kids cheered while shame over-came him and he retched again and again. Kneeling over the mess he’d made, he realized making his lunch reappear was the closest to a magic trick he’d done before an audience.
Chapter 2 – The Pendant
Ryan plowed down River Road in the wealthy suburb of Potomac, Maryland at twenty over the limit, the radar detector silently watching for cops. He’d gotten enough speeding tickets to earn a suspended license before, but now instead of slowing down, he just drove prepared. As he made an illegal pass around a Sunday driver, the Dodge Charger roared like his pulse, but the questioning look Anna shot him made them go quiet again.
“What?” he asked defensively, feeling guilty. He knew he shouldn’t do it with her in the car, at least, but he couldn’t help it. “I did it safely. No one was coming.” When she didn’t say anything, he added lamely, “C’mon, I made that pass in two seconds, and there wasn’t even another car in sight.”
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted, playing with a pendant around her neck. He’d never seen her without it; it was some sort of fairly heirloom, a square-cut diamond surrounded by a rectangular silver frame. “I’m just surprised you keep doing it. You’re always so careful about everything else, but then you drive like a maniac. It doesn’t make any sense. I thought you were afraid to get hurt.”
He stifled a frown. It was his own fault people believed that, since he let them, but it frustrated him anyway.
“What’s the rush?” Anna asked.
He shrugged. “I need to get home to Daniel.”
She sighed. “Didn’t you just talk to him? Your brother will be fine until you get there. You don’t have to get us killed on the way.”
He looked sideways at her and eased up, so they were going all of two miles per hour slower. It was a gesture of conciliation without really ceding the point and he sensed more than saw her wry look. They finally turned off the road, having passed many mansions that paled in comparison to the LaRue estate. He noticed Anna gawking like she’d never seen it before, especially when they pulled up by the six car garage, where a red ‘77 Lamborghini Countach, a silver 2020 Aston Martin convertible, and a yellow ‘79 Ferrari 308 GTS were just some of the mint condition cars sitting idle. Ryan ignored them as he thrust open the car door and put a foot out before the Charger even stopped.
“C’mon,” he said, exiting agilely despite his height and physique.
As she struggled to keep up, Anna looked back at the black car with the huge dent in the driver’s side door. “Why don’t you drive one of these other cars?”
“Because I don’t deserve them,” he muttered.
“What? Why?”
He opened his mouth to explain but realized it might lead to a subject he didn’t want to discuss. “Long story.”
“You could be driving one of these and yet you bought that car with a dent already in it. And you won’t fix it. C’mon. Level with me.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “You’re a strange one, Charlie Brown.”
He nodded to himself. Maybe it was true. That was the problem with secrets. They made you do things but not explain them, leaving people to invent a new truth and a new you along with it. It made him keeps friends like Anna at arm’s length. He suddenly felt lonely as the mansion’s shadow swallowed him.
The main house had two wings where Ryan’s rich parents entertained senators, foreign dignitaries, and “old money” like the LaRues or business owners who sought their favors. Those who hadn’t been here were seldom aware of his family’s wealth. Part of him resented the money and he knew perfectly well why – all the money in the world wasn’t saving his brother.
The three-story foyer had a massive chandelier and polished, decorative tiles like a public government building or fancy hotel. Crystal figurines and marble busts stood on elegant cherry furniture in the halls, and Ryan tried to ignore them as he strode by. He always felt like he wasn’t supposed to touch anything, which was one reason he liked the dented car; it was already screwed up. On some level he knew he and it were the same and had felt drawn to it the moment he saw it, the
