Issue #195 : Reality Of Illusions
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Christine ran her finger along the edge of the deck of cards (Bicycles. Always Bicycles) before tossing into her bag. Another night of splitting the uprights. The room wasn’t completely empty, it’s just that the few people had been there weren’t that particularly excited about her act. Sure, the old-timers told her how great she was, how smooth her technique and her patter was. But what good was all that if no one ever got up off their ass to come check out her set? And it wasn’t like she expected her career to lead to fame and fortune but it would be nice to know that she didn’t spend all those thousands of hours perfecting her false cuts and Hindu shuffle force, just so she could wallow her way into old age having tourists indulge her with a chuckle and a nod.
Maybe the street performers had the right idea. She had been so excited to land a regular gig at a venue like this, but so far she had seen nothing to speak of. Whenever she talked to her father on the phone, she still got the awkward inquiries as to whether or not she needed money, his tone clearly pleading with her to say no. Or to simply announce that she was giving it all up and moving back home to take that job in the telecommunications building.
She couldn’t do it.
She had given up too much, worked too hard to let this dream slip away from her when it felt like it was so close. It was like reaching out to grab at the coat of someone jogging away from you. All she had to do was get the right person’s attention and everything would turn around. She had to be patient. She wasn’t unreasonable. All she wanted was to make a decent living. She just needed a little more than what she was getting and maybe she could ditch all the part-time jobs she needed to stay above water.
As she shouldered her way through the back door of the club, rain started to fall, adding the perfect cherry topping to the end of her day. The weather report had said nothing about rain and yet, here she was, left to get drenched because she had thought walking to work on a nice day would be preferable. It wasn’t like she had fans stopping her on the street. She could get a cab but that would effectively wipe out her earnings for the entire night. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she lowered her head and made her way along the street towards her apartment.
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
Christine turned her head towards the sound of the voice, coming from the alley she had just passed. A man stood there, leaning against the wall in what looked like a fairly expensive double-breasted suit. He grinned at her as he waved, clearly beckoning her to join him.
“Uh…yeah. Sure, pal.”
His grin widened. “Don’t worry. I’m not here for that. I just want you to come closer so I don’t have to talk quite so loudly. Besides, the alley is a dead end, it isn’t like I could take you anywhere and there are people all over. Just stand over here with me, out of the rain.”
She nearly pointed out that he was standing in an open alley, but it occurred to her that his suit looked impeccable, as if the rain hadn’t even touched it. She snaked a hand into her pants pocket and took hold of the pepper-spray as she moved closer, stepping into the alley across from him. As she did so, the sensation of the rain hitting her ceased, as if she had just stepped underneath a shelter. She looked up, frowning at the sudden absence but there was nothing that she could see that would explain it. It was as if the rain itself had simply ceased to exist within the small sphere in which they stood. The man chuckled.
“I know. Nice, isn’t it? I thought a mild demonstration would help you feel better. You of all people should appreciate that.”
“Okay. What do you want? Do I know you?”
He laughed at the question, revealing a set of teeth so brilliantly white she almost squinted at the sight of them. “I suppose you may know me in a fashion but no, we have never met. My name is Marius.”
Christine shrugged, already wanting to be somewhere else.
Marius stepped forward and tugged on his jacket to straighten it. He lowered his tone of voice as he spoke. “Straight to it, then. I have a proposal for you that I think might interest you. A proposal that could help propel you out of the depths of mediocrity you seem to be caught up in.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You spend hours every day honing those skills of yours, and for what? So you can amuse a handful of people every night at that club? Where’s your stage? Where’s your television show? Where are your accolades?”
“What, are you an agent or something? I don’t understand what the hell this is. Did you see my act somewhere?”
“Ma’am, my business requires that I be in the know. It requires me to be aware of the lesser known diamonds in the landscape, such as yourself. All I offer is the help which you or others might not be able to otherwise provide.”
“That’s great,” Christine said. “And let me guess, all I have to do is come with you back to your apartment and we can figure it all out, right?”
Marius frowned, as if she had hurt his feelings. “Please don’t allow your own self-indulgence to lead you to perceive this as something more than it really is. I seek to offer you aid. I certainly expect to profit from this myself, but not in such vulgar fashion.”
Christine watched a tour bus rumbling past and wondered how much longer she was going to have to stand here. “So what is it you want in exchange for this wonderful help you’re offering? What do I have to do for you?”
“I receive payment in my own way. All I require from you is a handshake.”
“A handshake.”
“Merely a handshake and all will be delivered.”
“And you’re just going to make my career take off, get me all the gigs and the contracts I could ever want, right?”
“All you could ever want.”
Christine shook her head, ready to be finished with the conversation. She stepped forward and took his hand in hers. The sensation of his skin made her shiver, feeling somehow like she had been violated by something as simple as a handshake. The grin was wide on his face as he stepped back and nodded in appreciation.
The next night, as she moved towards the stage, she caught several glances from people, looks that she could only interpret as confused surprise. It wasn’t until she stepped out on stage though that she understood why.
The standing ovation was immediate. Every single one of the two hundred people in the room rose, giving her thunderous applause and greeting her with a loud outcry of appreciative voices.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
It was the best night she ever had. The crowd hung on every trick, every punch-line, every flourish. The crowd work never came so naturally for her as she joked with the audience. The applause felt like it was constant and after the show closed, she spent over an hour taking pictures with people and signing programs.
And every night after that for the next week got even better. The city couldn’t get enough of her and at the apex of it all, she took a phone call from a talent agency suggesting that they might have a lead into a possible opportunity for something on one of the cable networks.
It wasn’t until the night after taking that call when she decided to watch the local news for once, that she began to think about Marius and the brief conversation in that alley.
A pedestrian had been killed by a mugger, right near the opening to that alley where she had conducted that fateful handshake. The story went on to point out the bizarre string of random deaths which had occurred during the week, near that same alley.
There had been four in all.
And all four deaths had occurred just as she was stepping up on stage to perform.
The glass slipped from her fingers, even as she was denying it in her head.
It was crazy. How could anything like that be possible? She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. She couldn’t be responsible for all of that. All she had done was shake some creep’s hand in an alley. How could it be true?
And still, that cheshire grin invaded her consciousness. The gleaming eyes from the man who had named himself, “Marius.”
She shook her head. It was pointless. Pointless to think about, pointless to worry about. She wasn’t causing people to die. All she was doing was working hard towards a career that had been her dream for her entire life. None of this had anything to do with her. What was she supposed to do, stop? Based on some crazy notion that probably wasn’t true in the first place? She had responsibilities. It was a coincidence. And even if it wasn’t, if a few people met their tragic end, who was to say that it wouldn’t have happened anyway? It had nothing to do with her.
The show had to go on.
Christine stood up, and turned off the television. Stepping over the broken glass, she made her way towards the kitchen for some towels and a dust-pan.
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