“Or maybe it should be. . . .” He reached out fast and grabbed the head of the oldest boy, the gang leader who’d put the questions to Huddy on his arrival.
Something made Huddy hesitate, turn. Words ran through his head. “El hombre magico…. I do parlor tricks for ’em, keep ’em amused….” He always did waste too much time indulging his curiosity. But Pickett resembled a magician about as much as he looked like a power forward for the Lakers. Huddy was mildly interested to see what the old man could do.
“Okay now,” Pickett directed the youngster, “hold it steady.” The boy held out the bottle of sickeningly sweet quasi-orange drink and closed his eyes. All part of the show, Huddy mused. Why am I standing here watching this? I’ve got work to do, and Ruth’ll be wondering what the hell’s taking me so long.
Pickett passed his hands through the air over the pop bottle, closing his eyes and mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. When he’d concluded, he snapped his fingers.
For an instant it appeared nothing had happened. Then Huddy saw that the cap had tumbled off the bottle and its owner was already guzzling down the tooth-destroying liquid.
“Okay, now the rest of you.” One by one, Pickett removed the caps from another half dozen bottles. Each time Huddy moved a little closer, trying to see how the trick was managed. He was frowning. It seemed like such a simple trick, and yet for the life of him he couldn’t see how the old man pulled it off.
Clearly the caps were not pre-loosened, because soda immediately fizzed out under pressure whenever a cap was removed. No matter how intently he watched, he couldn’t see how Pickett managed the trick. The old man’s hands never went within a couple of inches of any of the bottles. He even removed the cap on the bottle of the reluctant little black-haired girl he’d first approached, and she was standing at least three yards off to one side.
The children melted away down the trail, laughing and drinking. Huddy hesitated. The sun was hot and getting hotter. He had a lot to do back at the office and he longed for the coolness of the air-conditioned Century City tower. Despite that, he followed Pickett back toward the house until they were standing on the porch.
“I can see why they call you the magic man. That’s a neat trick. Do you work with cards and canes and stuff also?”
“Naw, I just fool around.” Pickett looked a little embarrassed. “Like I told you, I’m the local baby sitter. I’ve always had a knack for little tricks like that. Keeps the kids in good humor.” He hesitated briefly. “You want to see it again?” He gestured down the road. “The parents don’t care nothing about it.”
“Yes. Yes, I would like to see it again, Jake. How about if I take you up on that beer?”
“Good. You wait right here.” Pickett melted into the house, reappearing a moment later with a couple of bottles of dark green glass. That gave Huddy another mild shock and raised the old man a notch higher in his estimation.
“Okay now.” Pickett handed both of the Heinekens down to his visitor. “You hold one in each hand and I’ll do ’em both at the same time.”
“From up there on the porch?”
“Why not?” Pickett smiled ingenuously.
Huddy didn’t understand. When he didn’t understand something, he was displeased. It bothered the heck out of him that he couldn’t figure out how the old man managed the seemingly simple trick.
“What’s the secret? How do you do it?”
“Now if I told you, wouldn’t be a secret no more, would it?” said Pickett with a grin.
Huddy checked both caps, tugging on one with all his strength. It was on tight, wouldn’t budge. He inspected each bottle for hidden strings, found nothing. Pickett waited until he was finished. He was still smiling.
“Well?” said Huddy.
“Well what, sonny?”
“Get going. What about your ‘magic words’?” He gestured as he spoke, waving one of the bottles through the air.
“Oh, them. Them’s just for the kids. Of course, if you’d like the whole show….”
“No. Skip it. You do it however you want to.”
“Right,” said Pickett, whereupon Huddy gave a shake like a man with ten-second flu as the caps to both bottles promptly fell away from their seats. Beer bubbled out of the bottle he’d been waving and foamed over his right hand.
“Oops.” Pickett clambered down the steps and hurriedly grabbed away the bottle. He took a long slug of the contents, wiped his lips contentedly. “Sure beats hunting for an opener, doesn’t it?” He let out a short, sharp laugh.
Huddy sipped gingerly at his own beer. It was good and cold and he was glad he’d asked for it. It helped steady him. He’d seen the trick up close now. Maybe too close, because if his life had depended on him explaining how Jake Pickett had dislodged those two bottle caps, Huddy would be a dead man.
If the furiously thinking executive had thought to inspect either of the caps under a magnifying glass he might have had a clue as to what had taken place. He would have seen that some of the cork lining the caps seemed to be missing. But the caps were forgotten in the dirt and dust as Pickett escorted him down the trail toward the road barrier.
“That’s a simple trick,” Huddy said carefully. “Real simple.” He didn’t even notice the mud that was climbing all over his two-hundred-dollar shoes. “But I’m damned if I can figure out how you did it.”
“Want to see some more?” Pickett looked pleased, like a little boy who’d just shown his parents a straight-A report card.
“Yeah.” Huddy feigned disinterest. Board meetings gave him plenty of practice at that. “Yeah, I’d like to see some more. You going to get some more bottles?”
“Naw. You’ve seen that trick.” Pickett leaned on the barrier. It creaked, the vandalized “dead end” sign threatening to fall permanently from its moorings. He nodded toward the Eldorado. “Your car’s awful dirty.”
“It’s a dirt road.” He wondered what Pickett was leading up to. At the same time he was irritated that the old man had noticed. There was mud coating the front end of the big car and the wire wheels were plastered with light brown.
“C’mon,” Huddy urged him, “what are you going to do?”
“Already done it.” Pickett stood up against the barrier. “Looked at your car lately?”
Huddy glanced over his shoulder and the sight hit him like a brick between the eyes. The mud and dirt had disappeared; not just from the front of the car but from the underside and the wire wheels as well. Slowly he walked around the Eldorado. Even the underside of the back end was spotless.
The soda pop trick had intrigued him. The business with the beer bottles had really piqued his curiosity. Now he just stood there stunned, gaping at the car. Easy, he told himself. Don’t rush things. Look for the logical explanations. Don’t go off half-cocked.
“How did you do that?”
Pickett shrugged. “Like I said. It’s a trick. It’s nothing special.”
“I don’t see any water. There’s no air hose. How did you do it?” His tone was running away with itself and he forced himself to relax, to calm down. “Mr. Pickett, would you mind taking a medical exam?”
