The Art of Disappearing by Ivy Pochoda (top non fiction books of all time TXT) 📗

The house lights dim. The stage lights come up, revealing a set that looks like a Victorian drawing room. The furnishings are familiar—murky landscapes in gilt frames, brocade furniture, and animals in bell jars. A long wooden table faces the audience at the front of the stage. Dead birds lie in ornate cages. Bronze candlesticks peek from behind curtains of melted wax. The lighting is designed so that the shadows stretch to the ceiling. A man strides onto the stage. He is wearing an exotic robe, the color of air. There are two dragons on the front, and when he turns, a phoenix on the back. Gloomy stage lights illuminate the man’s face. It’s Theo, many years ago. He walks to the right of the stage and raises his arms above his head, casting a shadow over the theater. He lifts the top of a bell jar that contains a stuffed weasel. The weasel comes to life. It’s beady eyes glow red as it disappears into the wings.

Next Theo summons a hawk frozen on a withered branch. It flies toward the stage lights. A raven flutters out of a hanging cage. Animals thrash inside their domes and dioramas. They gather at the magician’s feet. He ushers them into a giant fireplace at the center of the stage. From the dark interior of the hearth, their eyes glow. The only sound is the whisking of tails and the tapping of claws. From the tips of his fingers, Theo blows a fireball into the hearth. The flames highlight the audience with yellow and orange shadows. Then, with an explosion, the fire goes out. The entire theater is dark. We can feel Theo’s presence as he steps into the center of the stage. A dark shadow on a dark stage, he opens the phoenix robe, revealing the yellow glow of his animals’ eyes. Slowly and soundlessly, they slip down the magician’s body and scurry into the wings. The lights come up. Theo is holding two rabbits.

There is a large glass canister sitting on a wooden table. Theo places the rabbits in the canister, then places the canister over a burner. He lights the burner. The flame grows until it obscures the rabbits entirely. Then smoke begins to rise from the canister. It takes the form of featureless smoke-silver rabbits. Soon the smoke-rabbits dissipate into the stage lights. The fire from the burner dies down. The glass canister is empty. Next to me, I feel Toby shiver.

The audience shifts in their seats, waiting for the return of the rabbits. There’s a small commotion at the front of the theater. Two young men sitting near the stage begin whispering. One is slight with sandy hair. He begins pointing at the stage, indicating the place where the smoke-rabbits vanished. His companion, a larger man with a mane of bushy black hair, tries to calm his friend. The two spectators fall silent. The larger of the two turns to look at the back of the theater, and I recognize Leo.

The rabbits don’t return. Theo moves on to his next illusion. He clears the wooden table of its bell jars and dioramas. Now an assistant steps from the wings. She’s dressed in a white chiffon dress that trails behind her and obscures her hands. She lies down on the table.

Theo stands behind the table and raises his hands above his head. The tabletop begins to separate from its legs. It floats over the magician’s head. He brings his hands together. The table spins. Then Theo claps, and I hear the thunder that shook the sanctum. A ball of fire shoots from his clasped hands and flies toward the floating table. It collides with the wood. The table ignites, flames spreading from the underside to the woman on top. Theo rubs his hands together, and the table spins. He continues to rub, and the flames orbit the spinning table like the rings of Saturn. The flames leaping from the table take the form of dragons that fly out over the audience. Then there is a crack, like the splitting of a log in a fire. And part of the wooden table crashes to the stage.

Theo whirls round. His back is to the audience. He extends his arms frantically toward the burning table. He’s trying to bring it toward him. But it won’t fall. Now a new scent fills the air: a smell, first of fabric, then hair, then flesh on fire. Before I can scream, Piet grabs my hand and steps forward. We do not step into the theater, but with the same sucking sensation, we are through the other side of the Dissolving World and in the workroom. The last thing I see as we go is the burning table fall into Theo’s waiting hands.

The workroom was still cold, its air crisp and smoke-free. We heard the door of the Dissolving World shut behind us.

“How did you do that?” I asked, forgetting never to ask a magician about his tricks.

“How did I?” Piet smiled. “I didn’t.”

Toby and I waited.

“One of a magician’s greatest tools is suggestion.” He looked at Toby. “It was my memory mixed with your magic.” He waited a moment.

Toby took a step back and sat on a rough workbench. “I—” He couldn’t find the words.

“Yes.” Piet nodded slowly. “You made it work. But not perfectly.”

I opened the door of the box and looked inside. All I could see was the dusty space enclosed by four walls.

“My memory is also a dissolving world. I don’t remember the details perfectly. And you have seen La Gaite only in ruin and in pictures.” He joined Toby on the bench. “So, you cannot actually take us there.”

“But it was right there,” Toby said.

“I didn’t build this box so you could look at another world. I built it so you could go there.” Without further explanation, the oldest magician stood up and left us.

For a moment, Toby and I sat in