Jonathan was fascinated by magic.
For as long as he could recall, it was something that undoubtedly enthralled him. Perhaps it was that the enigmatic nature that drew him towards it. He remembered witnessing his first act of wonder on the streets, when an old man had a random woman select a card from a deck.
He could still recollect the old man’s appearance. He had pale skin veneered with a river of frozen ripples across his face. His cheeks sagged to his chin as if pocketing small bundles of change. His eyebrows were white and bushy, veiling his eyes while complimenting his dense mustache. He wore a classy suit, featuring a tasteful vest beneath. A golden chain looped precariously from his vest, disappearing behind the flap of his jacket. On his head, he had on a top hat which added to his already towering height.
The woman appeared rather extravagant herself, donning a quite lavishing red dress with a brown fur coat, her brunette hair resting comfortably upon the fleecy collar. Even in the heels she sported, she barely measured up to the old man’s chest.
He had her gaze upon the card before returning it to its home in the deck, shuffling them while he entertained the audience with an array of phrases, gaining their laughter in return. After the cards had received enough attention, he fanned them out in a smooth and yet swift motion. Every card held their red backsides to the audience, all but one. In the heart of the arched row of cards poked the white tip of one rebellious one. At that moment there, everyone including Jonathan had gasped. The old man asked the woman to retrieve the card.
As she did, he inquired if that was the card she had selected, and regardless, right or wrong, he would later tell her something about the card she was removing. The woman procured the card, staring at it before slowly shaking her head in discontent. Jonathan remembered how he felt at that moment: he felt sorry for the old man and held his head down in dismay.
However, the old man wasn’t finished. He simply shrugged his shoulders feebly before asking the woman why she had taken two cards from him. Confused, the woman argued back that she hadn’t. Yet, the old man pressed on, ensuring that she in fact had taken two cards and that one was in her coat pocket. She was hesitant, but slowly she placed her hand in her pocket and immediately her eyes lit up.
Jonathan’s lit up as well unable to gauge the possibility of the old man’s act. The woman removed her hand from her coat pocket and to everyone’s amazement, a card was in it. The old man once again asked her if the card she now held, the two of diamonds, was the card she had selected. With quivering hands, she was speechless, simply nodding, producing an extended smile and showcasing everyone the card.
Everyone around applauded, but the old man held up his hands to gesture silence. He notified everyone that he had vowed to inform the woman something about the first card she had selected. He asked her if the first card had been her original choice before selecting the second one. She was speechless again, holding one hand to her mouth. After a few seconds, she claimed that it was, but that it was something she had decided in her thoughts.
It was at that moment, the crowd burst into a thunderous applause, even louder than before. The old man’s lips curled into a satisfied smiled, and he issued a long leisure bow.
After that day, Jonathan was forever instilled with captivation. From then on, he recognized that a magician is what he wanted to become.
Jonathan witnessed that act three years. From that moment on, card tricks were the tool he toiled with, anxious to create a routine of his own that would have crowds applauding in amazement.
Of course this was all a pipe-dream, if anything. He lived with his mother in a rather rundown part of the city. His father had passed some years ago when he was too young to remember. His mother had claimed that he died from stress, of working so hard at the shoe factory barely keeping their heads above water to make ends meet. They were just shy from being dirt poor, and with his father gone, the weight of that burden now resided on his mother who worked long hour shifts.
Jonathan tried to pull his own weight to assist his mother functioning as a paper route boy. Every morning, well beyond even the slightest glimmer of light, he would wake to meet his boss, Mr. Garrett, at a stand down the corner. Mr. Garrett who was a rather impatient pudgy fellow was reluctant to hire the boy at first, but caved after Jonathan proved his worth by working the first few shifts free of charge. Jonathan was hard-working at his job often finishing earlier than Mr. Garrett’s past employees; because of such the man barely had anything to say against boy.
So when Jonathan went on again about the headline on the papers about The Great Occam Cobb, he indulged the boy.
“Mr. Garrett, it’s him again!” he exclaimed excitedly.
Mr. Garrett was lazily fanning through one of the papers. He was an objectively large man and always seemed to have a frown pressed across his lips. One of his hefty fingers rubbed his brow, after correcting the cabbie hat on his head. Afterwards, he lugged his attention from the paper he was reading.
“What’s that?” he asked in a monotone voice.
“It’s him, The Great Occam Cobb!” Jonathan answered, giving the name his best announcer voice.
Mr. Garrett sniffed briskly, before returning his attention to the paper. “Oh that coot, huh? Is he still at it?” he asked dryly.
“At it?! He’s the greatest magician in the world and it says he’ll be performing here all week starting next week!”
Mr. Garrett was silent, turning the pages nonchalantly. “Mr. Garrett, did you hear what I said?! He’s coming here!” Jonathan repeated in a voice even more excited than before.
The elevation in his voice seemed to startle the man as if pulling him out of a trance. “That’s great, kid,” he said without looking up, the top of his hat bobbed from nodding.
“It’s fantastic!” Jonathan replied, staring wide-eyed at the black and white photo depicting a man. He was rather young with black hair combed and greased to the side complimenting his classy suit. One hand rested just under his chin with fingers curling around it while an eyebrow was raised. His other hand poked from under his arm clamped tight to a wand. His entire expression seemed as though he was peering deep into Jonathan’s eyes, almost inquiring him if what he would see was genuine magic or deception.
Occam Cobb was Jonathan’s favorite magician or perhaps "idol" was a better word for it. Although, he had never attended a show of the man, the rumors of his talents and reputation were enough to fuel his imagination of what the man could do. He heard nothing less than: “Occam Cobb Was a True Magician of the Ages” or “Occam Defies Laws of Physics” or his favorite, “The Great Occam Has Surpassed All His Predecessors, Creating a New Genre of Magic”. Of course, these were all headlines on the newspapers, but even the words from people were no different.
Regardless, Occam Cobb was coming to his city to perform. The thought alone set a spark of vigor through Jonathan’s body. He immediately dug in his pocket to pull out a beaten set of playing cards. He was able to purchase them after saving up enough. At the time, he was uncertain to buy them, but his mother insisted that he could, since all he talked about was magic. She said it was okay and that it would be his early birthday present for that year.
“Alright, Mr. Garrett, can you pick a card, please?” he asked, holding up the fanned out deck.
Mr. Garrett sighed behind the paper, before dropping it and sluggishly grabbing a card. He quickly peered at the card barely looking at the face before putting it back in. Jonathan smiled devilishly while shuffling the cards, attempting to once again give his best announcing voice:
“So you picked ‘that’ card, huh? You think ‘that’ suit is the one to do it? It’s possible I might never find it, but you can’t resist the image of the card in your mind, can you?”
When he was finished shuffling, he put his finger on the top of the deck.
“The card on the top will be the one you pick!” he exclaimed. “Are you ready?”
Mr. Garett had a glazed look in his eyes, issuing another brisk sniff. With the awkward silence, Jonathan continued:
“Okay! Is this your card?!” he said, lifting the card, revealing it to him. The card revealed a three of spades.
Mr. Garrett nodded with an unfazed face. “Yeah that’s it. Good job, kid,” he replied, returning to his paper. “You’re all done for the day, right? You can go home then, see you bright and early tomorrow.”
Jonathan barely heard his words, having returned his attention to the picture in the paper. He smiled to himself admiring the photo. He knew Mr. Garrett had seen the trick a million times. He needed to make a new trick though, one that would surely blow the minds of everyone away. Better yet, if he could meet Occam Cobb, even if just for a second, he could show him his trick, and maybe it would be enough to amaze even the greatest magician.
Occam Cobb would arrive in a week which meant Jonathan had to create and perfect his trick in that allotted timeframe. All throughout the next few days, he found himself contemplating on the trick, on what to do and how to do it. He began multitasking: pondering while working, while on breaks and even before sleeping at night. With the arrival of the magician drawing closing, Jonathan began to worry he wouldn’t be able to come up with a clever enough trick.
However, two days before the inevitable day, a new trick had donned on him. Throughout those final two days, he practiced the trick intricately, even threatening to be late on a few deliveries. He became more and more obsessed to perfect it, making sure to pay attention to all the details until at last the week at hand had arrived.
That day, Jonathan had never felt such a surge of anxiety and apprehension. He found himself stuttering a few times when talking to a fellow customers, even with Mr. Garett.
“You alright, kid?” he asked later that day. “You were a little skittish today.”
For some reason, he had lost his voice at the point. He simply nodded a little. Mr. Garrett gave him a puzzled look, but gazed at the headline of one of the papers stating: “See the Great Occam Cobb Tonight!”
“Ah, you’re nervous about that Cobb fellow. It really means that much to you, doesn’t it?” he noted, giving off the first smile Jonathan had ever seen. “Tell you what, you can get off early today.”
Jonathan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah go on, get outta here,” Mr. Garrett replied.
With that, Jonathan took off, racing home, never stopping once until he arrived. He came across his mother who happened to be on her way out.
She was a frail looking woman with a face stained with light wrinkles, mingling of stress and exhaustion. She stood with a slight hunch, more than likely a result from preserving the posture at the sewing factory. A few strands had managed to escape her poorly sustained bun falling across her weary eyes. They widened when they recognized the boy running up to her.
“Jonathan!” she exclaimed, while he greeted her with a hug. “What are you doing home so early?”
“Mother?! You-wouldn’t-believe-it…" he said excitedly, half out of breath. Occam-Cobb-is-here-tonight-performing!”
She shook her head in complete confusion, holding up a hand to her head. “Slow down, child. Catch your breath first.”
He smiled, pausing for a second before attempting to repeat the news. “Occam Cobb, Mother! He’s here tonight performing!”
She closed her eyes rendering a soft sigh of relief before giving off a sheepish smile. “That’s wonderful, Jonathan. I thought something terrible happened.”
“No, it’s greatest thing ever!”
“Well that’s good. Why don’t you head inside? I started to warm up some soup for dinner. I’ve got to head in for my next shift,” she said, starting to leave.
“Well Mother, I was wondering… if it was maybe... possible for me to go?” he brought up.
His mother halted, giving off another long sigh. “Jonathan, we’ve talked about this before. I don’t mind when you play with your cards or tricks as long as it does not interfere with what’s important,” she said, looking him deep in his eyes. “What’s important right now is our home and the money we get to keep it. We can’t just throw what little we have on just anything, especially not just to "watch" another person. Our priority is for the things that can keep us alive. You understand that, don’t you?”
Jonathan felt his heart grow heavy. His eyes fell to the ground slowly.
He sighed, nodding. “Yes, I understand, Mother.”
“Good. One day, you will get over all this magic and you’ll look back at this moment and realize that this was the right decision,” she said, issuing a light kiss on his forehead. Afterwards, she parted ways disappearing down the street.
Jonathan felt his eyes grow watery; a few tears escaped, rolling down his cheek. He quickly rubbed them away. His appetite had diminished not caring for the meal his mother had prepared for him. Instead, he began walking down the street with his head still lowered. Along the way, he could see a man with a tall pole lighting the candles of street posts. Around him, the skittering of paws could be heard from the stray cats that ran amok. The sky grew cooler and darker, the street lights becoming his only guide in the darkness.
In the distance, he could see another set of lights brighter than the area around. Upon inspecting, he could tell it was coming from the city’s Grand Theatre where Occam Cobb would perform. He made his way towards the building, observing the crowd of people flooding slowly inward. “Witness the Great Occam Cobb” was spread in large letters across a long banner hanging in the front.
The people were all dressed lavishly with men in noteworthy suits, some with comparable top hats, even a few with canes. The women wrapped along their arms were ones to gleam as well. They glowed with gorgeous dresses, coats of the most extravagant fur, and jewelry that pirouetted at every movement in the light.
They muttered among themselves while the line traversed forward to a man at the door accepting their tickets. The people were about to witness the performance of a lifetime, he thought to himself. Unfortunately for him, he was left to simply speculate on what marvels he would be missing out on. After several more minutes, the crowds had subsided, completely contained within the wide structure. The air around had reverted back to its ensnaring stillness.
Jonathan sat across the building with his knees to his chest, resting his head atop. He listened as an orchestra could be heard blaring their instruments from inside followed by a thunderous applause. For every long pause of silence, the orchestra would intervene followed by another round of clapping. He was ready to return home until he was startled by a man exiting the side of the building. He was carrying a box and tossed it to the side before reentering.
Jonathan bit his lip, thinking for a second. This was his chance and it might be his only one. He nodded his head and quickly made his way to the door. After waiting a few seconds, he attempted to turn the knob; it twisted open without effort. He carefully glanced around before entering, shutting the door behind him.
Inside, he found himself to be in a poorly lit storage room. Stacks of old wooden crates towered around, some entangled in long dusty cobwebs like fish caught in nets. The air itself smelled of oil fluid and musty loafs of bread. The amount of dust in the air managed tickled the back of his throat.
Jonathan continued through the room, being cautious to not draw attention to his presence. The faint light seeping in the room emanated through the cracks of a set of large wooden double doors. Sneaking to the doors, he placed his ear up against it to listen. He heard a few voices on the other side before they grew faint in the distance.
Carefully, he gave the knob a twist all the while pulling the door open to take a peek inside. Immediately, his face met with a calm air-stream flooding his nose with an aroma of rich, sweet fragrances he couldn't describe.
His eyes regarded a massive candle lit hallway decorated with walls of gold and white. Golden columns permeated from the walls expanding to the ceiling, running along both sides of the hallway. Exquisite portraits draped the walls amid the spaces of the columns each depicting a man or woman posing in a manner of prominence. A radiant red carpet accompanied the hallway gracefully stretching down its wide corridors.
Jonathan’s eyes widened, taking in the glorious sight before him. He had never known such a beautiful configuration existed. Another loud applause from further within drew his attention back the sights that captivated him. He frantically looked around attempting to find some manner of entrance that could grant him an audience to the show.
Making his way down the hallway, he came to a large circular room. The room was similar to that of the hallway, containing identical golden columns hugging the walls with more portraits just the same. However, a few sets of furniture were present, including a few chairs and tables that could entertain many people. Another hallway could be seen to right where he heard the applause erupt louder.
Jonathan was ready to head towards it, but began to hear voices from within approaching his direction. Panicking, he quickly looked around the room to locate a place to conceal his presence. Finding nothing, his heart began to race frantically until he noticed a wooden staircase to the left. Without hesitation, he bolted up the stairs which led to a stiff door. It took several pushes with his shoulder, but he was able to finally budge it a second before the voices arrived in the room below.
The new area he had entered appeared to be an attic of the sort, housing similar stacks of crates like below, entangled in cobwebs. A few rats scampered across the floor before disappearing into the darkness. The attic itself was hard to see in with minuscule strands of light escaping up through the cracks of the floorboard.
While he stood there letting his eyes adjust to the dark, a voice startled him; it sounded muffled but spoke as if addressing many people. It sounded near so he began making his way through the attic, using the voice as a guide. He held his hands up to prevent himself from walking into any of the stacks. Even so, he tripped a few times.
He finally came across a window frame with a set of old curtains drawn across. Behind the curtains, he could hear the applause even louder. His heart began to beat faster with anticipation. He reached for the curtains, pulling them to the side. Immediately, a cloud of dust was released into the air. He coughed a little while fanning the smog of particles away.
When he gazed back at the window, his heart dropped. Below him, he could see countless rows filled with people down in the Theatre. All of them were at the edge of their seat, admiring the prospect before them. Jonathan’s eyes surveyed through the rows, guiding them to where the rows met the stage. Before he could view the man upon it, he heard his voice echo throughout the air:
“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for being the lovely audience that you have been all night!”
Jonathan’s eyes grew wide while a smile formed into a full blown grin. It was him, The Great Occam Cobb. With all his luck in the world, his eyes were able to gaze upon the greatest magician of all time, and without a ticket.
The stage was massive with tall velvet curtains to its side looming to meet the height of the immense ceiling. Occam Cobb himself appeared trivial upon it, but confident with his arms extended out, radiating from the illumination focused on him.
“It is with my greatest pleasure that I introduce to you, the final and most intricate spectacle in my hat to conclude this miraculous evening!” he continued on.
Two women appeared from opposite sides of the stage, each rolling a tall, thin black box that stood vertically. Each box had golden letters engraved upon them, the first displayed, Witnesswhile the second, Greatness. They placed the boxes at opposite ends of the stage.
At that moment, the orchestra erupted in a loud ambitious melody.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! What you are about to witness, is an act so simple, so mind blowing that it must be viewed twice to believe it!” the magician’s voice echoed. “Imagine for a second, the idea of being in two places at once all under a single second, to be in one location and then a next in a blink of an eye!”
The orchestra increased its tempo to further amplify the moment. It was working; Jonathan was leaning closer, eager to see what impossible feat he was describing. Below, the audience could be seen doing the same.
“I am proud to present, The Occam Transporter!”
The audience rendered another loud wave of applause before immediately dying down, eager to hear how the trick would work.
“Behold! Behind me, you see my two lovely assistants have brought forth onto you, two boxes!” he exclaimed, holding up two gloved fingers.
“To your left!” He gestured to the box labeled Witness. “I will step inside and enclose myself within that box.” He turned his attention to the one on the right. “I will attempt to transport myself from the first box into the next in just one second!”
The crowd began to murmur among themselves in dissatisfaction. He paused, before curling his fingers onto his chin, similar to that of the newspaper photo.
“Hmm… I can tell that some of you have your doubts, in fact, I think some of you think that I, The Great Occam Cobb, can do better! Well you’re right!”
A long chain emerged from the ceiling hovering above the left Witness box.
“What if I told you, that I can ante up the stakes and lift the box containing me and drop it?! That’s right Ladies and Gentlemen, I will plummet to my doom, if I cannot indeed transport myself from that container to the next!”
Jonathan bit his lip in discontent, he did not like the sound of this act. The audience seemed to feel the same way, issuing a light clap all the while murmuring among themselves.
“And if that wasn’t enough, the box I will be contained in will be secured with a lock!”
One of his assistants gracefully paraded the lock in the air. At this moment, the audience grew even more rowdy. The magician extended his arms outward.
“Without further delay...!” he exclaimed and immediately turned around, facing the left box. His smiling assistant opened the door for him. He walked inside the tight box facing the audience inside. His assistant shut the door. His voice although muffled could still be heard within.
“Now, my lovely assistant will apply the lock to the box!”
At his cue, she applied the large padlock to the box’s door.
“She will now attach the chain to my case!”
Again, she moved on cue, climbing a small ladder brought out. At the top, she attached the chain to the box’s top ring. When she climbed down, she removed the ladder. The chain began to hoist the box high into the air. Everyone at the moment was dead silent, including Jonathan. A series of knocks could be heard coming from within the case.
“I assure everyone that I am still within the box!” a muffled voice yelled out. “Please ensure that you do not pull eyes away, not even for a second or you dare to miss the opportunity to...” he continued before pausing. “Witness...!”
At that last mutter of the word, the chain released, plunging the box swiftly to the ground. Everyone gasped out in fear as it fell shattering into many pieces. However, the moment the box touched the ground, the door to the second box swung open.
“...Greatness!” the magician exclaimed, finishing his sentence from before without delay.
It took a second for the audience to register what had happened. Yet when they did, they quickly erupted in a thunderous applause louder than ever conceived that night. Many of them rose to their feet clapping and cheering as they did. Jonathan clapped as well from his position, filled with a mixture of reverence and angst.
He had done it, performed the impossible and amazed with true wonder. The magician smiled gracefully taking the hand of his assistants, rendering both a light kiss. Afterwards, he issued a bow. The curtains began to gracefully descend, but stopped when he held up a hand.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! I informed you earlier that the trick would happen so quick that you would need to see it twice! So how about it, would you?!”
The applause died with the crowd murmuring among themselves, before sitting down quietly.
“I thought as much! However, I being, The Great Occam Cobb, couldn’t simply lull you into watching the same trick exactly! Oh no, as always the stakes must be raised! So that’s why I am giving one of you the lucky opportunity to be the one transported!” he exclaimed, extending his arms outward again.
A slight delay occurred before the audience issued a light clap, continuing to murmur amongst each other.
“Who dares to leave this world in a second and return in another?!” he asked, pointing his finger among the seating.
One of his assistants rolled another case in, setting it in front of the broken shards of the last box. The new box had the same word Witness engraved across it. Again Jonathan bit his lip; what he would do to be part of that act.
“I assure you, Ladies and Gentlemen that the box will not be suspended like the other, so there is no cause for alarm! So who will dare the trip?! Who will venture into the unknown?!”
There was a long pause until a man abruptly stood up from the back. “I say, sir! We have a beautiful woman back here who would love to volunteer!” he announced.
The woman sitting next to him shook her head in dismay, playfully hitting the man to stop. However, he pressed on jokingly urging her to do so.
“Ah yes, come along milady!” the magician replied out.
Jonathan could see her crossing her arms in discontent, firmly glaring at the man still standing aside her.
“It looks to me, the lady is shy."
The crowd released a chortle. Jonathan could see the woman sinking into her seat from embarrassment.
"Perhaps," Occam continued, "a round of applause will grant her the courage she needs!” he requested, clapping his hands together.
The audience followed suit applauding. The woman began to blush before finally conceding. She stood up making her way to the stage. The magician helped her up the small set of stairs, planting a kiss upon her hand once she was safely up.
She was beautiful with short locks of blond hair. Her white dress glimmered in comparison to the jewelry athwart her neck. Her thin figure was very much apparent from the firm press of the dress.
“And what, do I have the pleasure of calling you?” he asked.
“Carol,” she responded, blushing.
“Well, Carol. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, issuing another small kiss to her hand.
She blushed harder at this notion.
“Now Carol,” he said guiding her over to the first box. “You saw here, how the trick works. I am going to place you into this box, 'wave my hands', and in a mere a second, you will get to experience firsthand: The Occam Transporter!” he said, gesturing to the box on the right.
The woman swallowed a little. She spoke rather soft, her voice barely carrying across the stage. “What do I have to do?”
The man smiled, turning his attention to the audience.
“Carol, here asked a very important question. She asked, ‘what will she have to do?’ And I tell her as I tell you, nothing! Nothing my dear! All you have to do is enter that box and I will do the rest. Are you ready?”
She swallowed again before giving a light nod with a sheepish smile.
“Okay then!” he responded, guiding her closer to the left box.
The orchestra began playing their aspiring music once again. Once the woman was in front of the door, he opened it and helped her in. Immediately, he shut the door and began knocking against the box with his fist while addressing the audience. This struck Jonathan rather odd; it was possible it was just a coincidence, but the knocks almost sounded identical to the ones earlier. He quickly shook it off though ready to see if the great magician could fulfill his promise.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Witness...!” he yelled, pointing to his assistance to open the other box’s door. "...Greatness!"
She opened the door and as promised, the woman appeared on the other end. The assistant helped her out of the box and the audience erupted into another thunderous applause. Strangely though, the woman held her hand up to the air as if everything around was too bright. She almost appeared dazed. The magician briskly walked over to her, taking her hand.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Carol!” he exclaimed.
The audience continued to applaud. He took a bow while still holding her hand. The woman smiled weakly before being guided back down the stairs. Jonathan curiously watched as she continued to appear dazed before finally being guided back to the gentlemen she was seated with. With that, the magician took one final bow with the echoing of applause still roaring. The curtains made their decent soon after fully concealing the stage.
The audience below began making their way to the exit of the Theatre. Jonathan leaned back from the window, contemplating the last few moments he has seen; he felt a smile slowly form across his lips.
After waiting for the lingering crowds to leave, he made his way back down the stairs. In the room below, he ensured no one was around before entering it again.
It was marginally quiet; he could hear some of the voices of the people from outside faintly through the walls. This was his moment, he thought. This was his opportunity to see Occam Cobb. His luck had already presented the rare opportunity of catching the most breath-taking magic act ever conceived and was sure it hadn’t ran out yet.
Jonathan crept down the hallway leading further into the building. The hallway led him to a much larger room almost similar in length but clearly the lobby. At the end, a man was sweeping the floor, guiding the dust towards the set of doors for the entrance of the Theatre. His back was to Jonathan allowing him to shuffle through the lobby to the hallway parallel.
This new hallway curved around towards the direction of the stage. Coursing through it, he came to a door marked, Backstage. After carefully peeking through and finding it safe, he continued through the other side. Behind the door, the path was dark. Only two wall-candles lit the way: the ones next to him and the others at the end.
The hallway was unlike the other ones. In the light, the walls were adorned with many rough cracks in its dry wooden features. The air back here was cool as if the wind from outside was coursing in. He could hear the small skittering of feet which suggested the presence of rats. Jonathan sighed softly and began to venture through the corridor. A few times along the way, he felt something brush against his foot.
At the end of the hallway, he came across another door. The candlelight was dim, but its rays managed to illuminate the words across the door just enough. Performers Only the sign read. Jonathan pushed open the door. Inside, he found clothing racks with an abundance of outfits hanging from them. A variety of suits hung layered tightly together on several of them while a plethora dresses hung from others. The tight cluster of clothing made the room feel almost suffocating.
He moved past them and was led to a more open part of the room. To the side, he could see a large full-body mirror up against the wall. A thin desk sat next to the mirror sporting a chair set aside as if someone had recently left it. Piles of papers filled the top of the desk along with a very peculiar set of gloves. Jonathan slowly approached the desk, recognizing the gloves.
His fingers grazed across them, feeling the smooth silk of the fabric. Afterwards, he turned his attention back to the room around.
“Hello?” he called out softly. “Mr. Occam Cobb, sir?”
The air was silent as ever. He sighed softly to himself, realizing he had missed his opportunity. He started to make his way back, but stopped when he heard a voice answer him:
“Yes, how can I help you, young man?”
Immediately, he sprung around and to his amazement, there stood the great Occam himself. He was a much taller man in person with a thin frame. His black silky vest hugged tightly against his body with the sleeves of his white button shirt rolled up to his elbows, his arms crossed. His eyes leered back with a quizzing nature while his sharp chin was raised.
Jonathan noticed how the colors of his eyes differed, one being blue while the other appeared hazel brown. For a second, he was speechless, still surprised at his suddenly appearance and the fact he was viewing the man he held as an idol.
“Well?” Occam continued.
Finally, he managed to find his voice. “Yes sir, I… I just wanted to inform you that… I’m your biggest fan.”
The man was silent before replying, “Is that so. Why are you back here?”
Jonathan grew quiet again, trying to find the right way to answer. After seeing this for a minute, the man’s eyes warmed up; a smile grew across his face.
“Did you see the show?” he asked with a sincerer tone.
“Yes, I did! Well, I saw the last act,” Jonathan replied excitedly.
“And?” the man incited.
“And it was spectacular!” he exclaimed.
The smile grew larger on the man’s face. “Just from your reaction, I can tell you’re quite the magic lover, am I right?”
Jonathan nodded excessively, smiling greater than ever. “More than anything! I want to become a great magician, just like yourself, sir!”
Occam seemed pleased with this statement, lowering his arms and inviting the boy further in the room. “What’s your name, my boy?”
“It’s Jonathan, sir.”
“Tell me Jonathan, what kind of acts draw your attention the most?” he asked, taking a seat on the chair.
“Well right now, I’ve been using cards for my tricks.”
“Ah, playing cards. Believe it or not, I began my career with playing cards as well. I used to entertain people down on the streets. It seems like it was only yesterday,” he replied, nodding his head in content. “As you can see, I’ve come a long way from then, and you can too.”
Jonathan’s eyes lit up. “You think so?”
“Of course, lad. Everyone makes their humble beginnings from one walk of light or another. The important thing to remember is to not forget why you love magic. Your love of magic will keep you going even through the times that grow rough, and believe me, there will be some.”
Jonathan nodded, taking in the advice. “Well, sir…I would be lying if I didn’t tell you the real reason why I am here.”
“Oh,” Occam replied, “and what is that?”
“Well, I wanted to show you a trick of my own, if that is okay with you?”
The light in his off-colored eyes seem to grow brighter at the request. He returned another warm smile before crossing his legs and laying his chin in his hand.
“I would be delighted.”
Excited, Jonathan pulled out the deck of cards from his pocket. Occam stared with distaste when he caught sight of the worn out appearance of the cards.
“I can tell you’ve been hard at work. However, those cards most certainly will not do,” he scoffed.
He pulled out a box cards from his pocket and held them out for the boy. Jonathan simply looked at the box depicting the image Occam on the front, and then back at the man with uncertainty.
“Please take them. You can use them when become the next great magician. A 'great magician' always performs with his best.”
Jonathan smiled, gratefully taking them. Occam took his beaten deck and placed it on the desk behind him. Jonathan removed the cards from the box. The fresh scent of the cards filled his nose, an aroma he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He carefully stuffed the box in his pocket as to not damage it and began shuffling the deck.
He was nervous, feeling his heart heatedly pound against his chest. He glanced at the magician ever so often while shuffling the cards; the man was instinctively focused on them. It was clear he was no stranger to hasty deceits the hands could portray with cards, even in the initial shuffle. This notion only further instilled tension in his heart.
After the cards were thoroughly shuffled, he took a deep breath. There was nothing to worry about, he thought. He had practiced for days with little end until his very hands cramped from fatigue. He just had to perform the trick one more time. He held out the deck of cards, still neatly stacked.
“Can you please select the card on the top, sir?” he asked.
The request seemed to puzzle the man. “You want me to select a card now, without fanning them out?”
Jonathan swallowed at this before answering with a slight squeak in his voice, “Yes, sir.”
Occam frowned a little before picking up the card to view.
“Do not let me see the card,” Jonathan instructed.
He split the deck in half, holding each part in one hand.
“Okay, if you would sir, place your card back in the deck,” he continued, holding the hand with the lower portion of the deck out.
Immediately, the magician complied as instructed, setting the card face down. Following the action, Jonathan placed the upper set of cards atop.
“I will now shuffle the cards,” he informed, beginning to mix them.
Without warning, the cards suddenly slipped from his fingers, scattering across the floor below. Jonathan froze, closing his eyes in shame while biting his lip. Occam was unfazed, although his displeased expression had expanded across his face.
“That’s quite alright. Accidents happen, my dear boy. The show must continue nonetheless,” he responded.
Jonathan nodded and began picking up the messy array of cards. After a few minutes, he managed to obtain them all, standing up ready to face the magician again.
“Is it okay, if I start all over?” he inquired.
Occam issued a light head nod, still residing in his previous posture.
“Okay,” Jonathan began. He started to shuffle the cards again. Once the tiresome act was completed, he held out the deck for the man to choose a card for a second time. However, once he reached out a hand to pick a card, Jonathan immediately retracted the deck away.
“Is there something wrong, my boy?” Occam questioned with a baffled look.
“Well, sir. I was going to have you pick a card, but I realized you never returned the first card you selected,” Jonathan brought up.
The man’s brow furrowed heavily as a profound contortion appeared across his lips. “I assure you, my boy, that I did indeed return the card. Perhaps, in your mishap, you did not pick it up. How would you know otherwise?”
“Perhaps you’re right, sir. I guess I must have missed the one under your foot,” Jonathan replied.
The man took a second to gaze down, lifting his foot and to his surprise a card was facedown underneath. He picked up the card, attempting to hand it to the boy until his eyes glanced at the face. His brow lifted and a heartfelt smile cultivated athwart his lips. He produced a warm laugh, almost uncontrollably for what felt like several long minutes to Jonathan. Unsure what to do, Jonathan simply stood there.
“My boy, that was a very interesting and yet bold act, dare I say, very tricky indeed.”
It was Jonathan’s turn to smile then.
“How did you derive such trick?” he asked, now intrigued.
“Well, when I learned of your coming, I knew I wanted a make a special trick just for you, but I knew it had to be a clever one. However, when I tried to think of one to create, I couldn’t. The trick I presented to you now was like the one I saw performed by an old magician on the streets. His act was similar, but more elaborate. At the time, I didn’t know how he did it, but later, I figured it out,” Jonathan explained. “That act is what drew me into magic in the first place.”
Occam placed his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, simply amused. “It is moments like those that true magic is realized, to have the idea to instill the same spellbinding moment that was casted upon yourself onto others. Thank you for sharing your act with me, Jonathan.”
“No, thank you, sir,” Jonathan replied, rendering a light bow.
After issuing one last appreciation, he began to make his way out.
“How would it sound," Occam called out behind him, "to learn a new trick or two from me?”
Immediately, Jonathan sprung around. “Learn a new trick, from you, The Great Occam Cobb?”
“That’s right, I can take you under my wing and teach you prevailing tricks to showcase for everyone you know, while I’m still in town, that is. Sadly, I depart at the end of the week, but I am confident that you can master such rudiments in time as you did so in preparation for an audience with me. What do you say?”
Jonathan gave an answer without hesitancy, promptly after the man had asked. “Of course! I would love to! Thank you, sir, for the honor!”
With a please looked, Occam beamed. “Excellent, my boy. Simply, make your return every evening as you did so tonight, and I will instruct upon you a new trick for you to rehearse.”
“Yes, sir. I won’t let you down!” he replied. His eyes began to look at the ground though. “Yet, how will I get pass the ticket man? To tell the truth, sir," he confessed, "I didn’t exactly walk through the front door to see the show.”
The man produced a light chuckle. With the card from earlier still in his hand, he cupped it, before revealing it again; it had changed. “Use this,” he said, handing it to Jonathan.
Jonathan glanced at the object. The card was much larger with a picture of Occam Cobb with his arms stretched out. Above his picture, the words All Access Pass stood bolded out.
“Show that to the doorman and he’ll let you in without a fuss. You can even view my show again, all of it this time, from the front row seat.”
Filled with joy beyond measure and without warning, he gave the man an alarming hug of compassion. The notion caught Occam off guard, but he quickly collected himself. After the tenderizing moment, he bid the boy farewell. A few tears had formed in Jonathan’s eyes, but he made sure not to reveal them. He simply made his way out the door with his prized pass in hand and new deck of cards.
Promptly, he halted on the other side. He realized he had forgotten his old deck of cards being caught up in the moment earlier. Sure, he had new cards, but he wanted to only use them when performing in front others like Occam had instructed. He decided that his old cards would be the deck to use while he practiced.
He returned through the door ready to excuse his second intrusion, but was quickly terrified at the action he perceived. Occam Cobb was nowhere to be seen... well almost. The moment he stepped past the clothing racks, he witnessed the back heel of the Magician pull through the mirror on the wall, vanishing on the other side. The mirror’s reflective surface rippled from the action momentarily prior to settling back into its flat appearance.
Jonathan was star-struck, frozen in terror and astonishment. Rubbing his eyes for a second, he stared at the mirror which simply offered back his reflective confused expression. Had he really seen such an act? Cautiously, he approached the mirror, hesitantly holding out a hand. He flinched for a second when it touched the surface, having expected his hand to pass through, but instead it only met with the hard surface.
Now, he was very confused. It shouldn’t have been that far-fetched. He was in fact dealing with The Great Occam Cobb the greatest magician, right? Yet, despite trying to convince himself of this ordeal, a deep sensation sat at the bottom of his stomach fabricating an unpleasant vibe.
As if what he had witnessed wasn’t enough, something else threw him off. Emitting from the mirror, at least what he thought was the source, was the slightest breeze of cool air. It was as if a window was cracked open or rather it felt more like someone was softly blowing cool air in his face. The breeze felt odd when it met against his skin.
Its chilly winds not only felt icy, but it was accompanied with the slimmest tickle. It felt like someone was softly dragging the tips of their fingers across his cheeks as if carefully caressing his skin. A sharp shiver quickly pulsated through his body. The thought of an unseen figure standing before him was quite eerie, but it was impossible. He shook the thought off and grabbed his old deck of cards before swiftly making his way out and back home.
The next evening Jonathan was eager to return to the Theatre. Upon finishing his work, he immediately bolted to the building without stopping home. He opted to not inform his mother about the pass and knew she would be working her usual long hours.
At the Theatre, Jonathan could see another large crowd of people waiting in line for the door. They looked at him funny when they saw him join among them, obvious his attire was nothing in comparison to theirs. He didn’t care though. Unlike them, he had an All- Access Pass and a guaranteed front row seat.
When he reached the door, the ticket man gave him the same questioning look. Jonathan proudly presented him the pass which still made the man stare at the boy with a suspicious expression for having it. However, he eventually let Jonathan through, who was then escorted by another gentleman.
The man led him through the main lobby he recognized from the previous evening. The other guests inside were talking amongst themselves while admiring the interior decorations; a few gave snobbish glares at him. Jonathan was taken through a set of large double doors leading to the main Theatre seating.
The room appeared much grander than where he was in the attic above. On the ground, he could see just how extraordinarily high it really was for the ceiling. He wasn’t able to tell then, but now he could clearly note the rows of seating elevating the further back they stretched.
The stage was massive as ever and almost intimidating up close, but it was beautiful nonetheless. To the far right next to the stage, Jonathan saw the musicians, mumbling among themselves and tuning their instruments. The conductor was an elderly man standing upon a perch beaming instructions to a few of the players.
Jonathan was led to a seat in the center of the rows. He thanked the man and proceeded to sink into the seat. It was surprisingly comfortable with a soft cushion. He smiled to himself still not believing where he was.
After several long minutes, everyone eventually had found their own seats. Soon after, the orchestra began to play, signaling the beginning of the show. Occam Cobb emerged from the backstage smiling and then bowing. For a moment, his eyes caught Jonathan’s and he rendered a slight nod in his direction.
From then, the show went on as planned with Jonathan breathlessly watching all the performances conducted. After the show, Jonathan returned to the backstage to meet Occam. The magician was there and instructed a new trick for him to learn as promised. This continued throughout the week with Jonathan practicing hard on his newly learned tricks when he could.
He returned every evening to watch the show and later perform the trick he was taught in front of the magician to receive any necessary critique. One evening after Jonathan’s time with Occam had expired, he lingered behind. He hadn’t forgotten about the strange event he had witnessed the first night. Furthermore, he was too afraid to question the magician about it, fearing he might anger him.
Instead, Jonathan wanted to witness the magician conduct the act in its entirety. After viewing many of his shows, he began to suspect the 'Occam Transporter' was tied to the event. He remembered the series of knocks Occam did and realized that he did so every time for that particular performance, and it was always done in the same manner. Jonathan just needed to see it one time to confirm his theory.
Hiding behind one of the clothing racks, he peered into the room. Inside, the man was simply reading the newspaper. An hour or two went by and Jonathan’s legs began to feel a sharp cramp of pain from standing so long, but he ignored the pain; he needed to see this. Finally, Occam checked his pocket watch.
Afterwards, he took up his dress jacket, pulling it on, ensuring it was properly fitted. From there, he approached the mirror. He issued two quick knocks near the top followed by a delayed one in the middle. Next, he issued two final knocks slightly lower below the first two.
Jonathan watched in bewilderment as the man took a step into the mirror until his entire body had disappeared. The mirror rippled momentarily before settling into its solid stance like before. He couldn’t believe it, he was right. The knocks were the same; it was how he was able to transport himself on the stage.
He walked up to the mirror, seeing his reflection stare back in amazement. A light cool breeze met with his face. Once again, he felt a chill fall down his spine upon feeling the gentle brushing across his skin. It felt stronger than before as if several more fingers were eerily caressing his skin in long strokes. He shivered out of impulse, attempting to brush the feelings away.
He bit his lip again, realizing his curiosity had fixated its roots unfathomably in him; he needed to know what was behind it. Raising a shaking hand, he began to mimic the knocks of the magician. Upon issuing the final knock, he could tell the mirror had changed; it was no longer just a mirror.
He held up his hand to the surface slowly edging towards it. He could feel the draft against his hand, the feeling of many more ghostly fingers brushing against it. When his hand finally met with the surface, it felt like it was being submerged into an icy pool of water. The mirror rippled across, distorting his reflection. This was it, he thought. He closed his eyes and stepped forward, completely submerging inside.
Jonathan stumbled in, reaching the other side of the would-be door. At first glance, he thought he had forgotten to open his eyes, but realized that he had done so after blinking a few times. The world around, everything, was completely black. His eyes could not distinguish if the ground existed or if he was floating in an ocean of nothingness; it all seemed like one.
The same waft from before streamed around him endlessly. Its invisible fingers now evolved from caressing his skin to tapping as if someone or something was trying to gain his attention. With each tap, he spun around, his heart colliding against his chest expecting to meet the face of his would–be tormentor only to be met by the perpetual void around.
The taps grew in frequency, touching him all over. The more they did, the more they felt like hands – hands that were brushing, caressing, and grabbing. He couldn’t help but jolt in fear to every direction he felt. Each sensation felt new, never like the other only instilling more terror. His eyes scanned in horror at every angle, but darkness was all he could see. At moments, it felt like his eyes could perceive a shape or figure before him, but when he blinked it mended back to the same veil of black.
It wasn’t just the hands that were tormenting him, it was the obscuring darkness too. He could feel his stomach churn feeling nauseous as if the world around was spinning not him. Even his head felt light. He needed to get out; he couldn’t bear this world any longer. He couldn't control his breathing. Was the area getting smaller? Was it even as big as he thought it was? Maybe it was all just a room, a small room and he was trapped inside.
He reached around, hoping to feel the entrance for the mirror, but all he could feel was empty air. His heart’s tempo was now an echoing crash against his chest, beating in his ears like a ceremonious drum. He flung his arms around helplessly hoping to feel for anything. Without warning, he felt something forcefully grab his hand, yanking him forward before harshly letting him go. He immediately shrilled out in horror falling back and shutting his eyes.
Tears managed to escape through his eyelids.
“I want to go home. I want to go home,” he repeatedly whispered to himself, rocking softly.
Hesitantly, he slowly opened his eyes ready to gauze upon whatever horror had grabbed him. Yet, his eyes once again only met with the teasing black obscurity. He wanted to believe nothing was there, but his senses had their own agenda, filling his mind with horrid anomalies in the abyss before him. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there, he thought to himself. He needed to believe it.
Jonathan didn’t know what to do. What was going to happen to him now? Was he going to die here, and if he did, no one, not even his mother would know what had happened to him or even where to find him. A few more tears began to stream from his eyes at the realization of the inevitable hopelessness.
Upon lifting his hand to rub them, he noticed a faint light across it. A light glow emanated from his hand. It looked as though his fingers were covered in ink or paint of some kind. Inspecting the ground, he realized the origin of the strange substance derived from what appeared to be a footprint.
It puzzled him because he hadn’t noticed it before, perhaps his eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. Looking even closer, he realized there were more footprints in a trail heading away from his location. It was Occam Cobb, it had to be from him, he thought. A feeling of relief came to him, eager to find the magician.
At this point, he didn’t care if the man would be angry with him, he just wanted to get out of this place. He made his way forward, following the footprints. They curved in odd directions, but continued to stretch onward. It felt like hours had passed as he followed them. By now, Jonathan finally realized that the tormenting hands had ceased. He wasn’t sure why they had or when exactly their foreign touches had stopped.
Maybe it had something to do with the substance he accidentally touched. Did the stuff somehow keep them at bay? It felt like more time had elapsed and Jonathan was beginning to feel impatient, anxious to get free. The more he pressed on, the more he believed he would catch a glimpse of Occam ahead but he never did.
While walking, Jonathan couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone anymore. It felt like something was watching him from the shadows, something with a malicious intent. He didn’t know why, but it felt as if whatever was watching him wanted to inflict harm upon him. A few times he couldn’t help but turn his head at what he thought were very faint whispers. They were so faint he couldn’t decipher them. Although, he thought he caught one word, 'Stay.'
He was beginning to feel hopeless again until something ahead caught his eyes. He could barely make out the silhouette of a figure in the distance. It took a minute for his mind to register; it was Occam.
Without thinking, he called out, hoping to attract his attention, “Mr. Cobb! Mr. Cobb wait! It’s me, Jonathan!”
However, he already began to disappear. Tears started pouring out of his eyes at the realization that he was crossing back over to the other world, the world he knew; he would be trapped for sure. He attempted to race to the man’s location, still yelling. In response to hearing the boy’s voice though, Jonathan heard a collection of frightening roars.
He could feel their vibrations against his skin. All around him, he could hear the harsh pounding of feet as if a stampede of large beasts were sprinting towards him.
Whatever dwelled in this darkness, it was coming for him. He was now at a full sprint, focusing his eyes on the last location he saw Occam. The things behind him were closing in on him quickly. Their roars echoing all around. Below him, Jonathan’s eyes watched in horror as the glowing footprints started to fade before him.
He could start to feel the tips of fingers touching his face again now accompanied by the whispers. The whispers grew louder amplifying into deafening roars, all blaring the same single word, “STAY!”
Hot tears continued to fall from Jonathan’s face, his lungs were burning profusely. He couldn’t stop now though. He knew the things were right behind him, ready to do God knows what to him. His legs began to cramp from exhaustion, but he ignored the pain with all his willpower until he slammed into what felt like a wall.
A sharp pain spread across his nose and his lips. His head was throbbing immensely. Despite this, he stumbled quickly to his feet, feeling across the would-be wall. Behind him, he could hear the pounding of feet and roaring growing closer. His head was full of the voices now screaming the word at him. The feeling of hands had escalated to painful grabs; they were squeezing him tightly, holding him back for the beings behind him.
He screamed uncontrollably while banging against the wall to be let out, but was given no response. He could feel the invisible hands tug at his shirt now pulling him back practically dragging him with great force. He could feel his body begin to lose balance. When he glanced back, he could barely distinguish a large mass of black figures, blacker than even the world around darting towards him. How could something be darker than this abyss? Suddenly, he felt a hand grab his arm and promptly jerk him forward through the wall onto the other side.
Blinding light consumed Jonathan throwing him momentarily into a realm of pure white. When the light subsided, his eyes came into focus upon the concern gaze of a man before him; it was Occam Cobb. The remaining world around came into view.
They were in a room, a fairly big one. It appeared very elegant garnishing a large king-size bed. Several pieces of furniture sat around the room glowing in an ostentatious brown that was similar of the walls around. The sweet aroma of fruit and honey graced the air.
Upon seeing Occam, Jonathan swiftly embraced him, clinging tight. He shook endlessly not letting go with tears streaming down his face. Occam held a confused and yet guilty look on his own face.
“It’s alright, lad,” he said calmly, rubbing his back. “You’re safe now.”
After several minutes, he pried the boy loose from his chest, promising another set of assuring words for his safety. He left into another room momentarily where Jonathan could hear the sound of water. Shortly after, Occam returned with a wet towel in his hand. He gently brought the towel to Jonathan’s face, who felt a sharp pain when he did.
“I’m sorry,” the man replied to the boy’s cringing. “But your nose and lip is bleeding.”
Words finally returned to Jonathan. “Where are we?” he asked, weakly.
“In a hotel, not too far from the Theatre,” Occam replied still applying the towel to his face. “I know what you’re thinking right now,” he continued. “I know you must have so many questions.”
Jonathan remained silent, looking down at his arms which were plagued sparsely with purple bruises. The imprints of fingers and even full hands could vaguely be seen embedded among them.
“I also understand," Occam continued, "that it might be a lot to take in. It’s how I felt when I first ventured there.”
Jonathan’s ears seem to perk up. “And where is there?” he asked.
Occam became motionless. After a minute, he sighed and made his way to the bed to sit.
“I suppose you deserve an explanation,” he said softly. “In my early career, before all the fame, before I had a single cent to my name and the name Occam Cobb was but just that, I traveled the world. Back then, I was an ambitious one, eager to find better ways to improve the little tricks I had mastered. You see, my boy, I know what it feels like to endlessly search one’s mind for an idea to create true wonder in people’s eyes,” he continued. “What I did come up with didn’t seem flashy enough; they were all just foolish little tricks, child’s play really, pardon my words.”
He paused for a second to run his hand through his hair.
“I wanted to show the people real magic. I craved for it so much that I was willing to do anything to get it. Unfortunately, I found what I was looking for,” he went on. “I had a rather wealthy friend, who was in debt to me. In return for his assistance, I was willing to consider the debt paid. So he funded my travels, including any guides or translators that I needed. My travels brought me to the heart of the east where I stumbled upon an old underground site. You should have seen it, my boy. It was truly magnificent, almost like an underground city, going on for miles. We could’ve spent a year down there and still barely crack the surface of learning all of what truly was there.”
A smile was across his face when he explained this, but soon it faded.
“Then, we found the library. With my translator, we learned what the place was and who had created it through the library’s recorded texts. The place used to be the home of cultists, who worshiped and conducted rituals down there. I of course wasn’t interested in any of that. What did interest me were the 'incantations' they conducted. The cultists were able to perform miraculous things: they were able to cloak themselves, bend the elements, even open doors to other worlds.”
Occam went silent again for a while before continuing.
“I should have heeded my guide and my translator’s warnings, but like the fool I was, I didn’t want to hear it. I coerced them to reveal the secrets onto to me. After that day, everything changed. Oh I wish I could correct that fateful day. I learned a great deal of dark magic at that time, some of which you have seen in my performances.
"However, the most noteworthy one you know to be the ‘Occam Transporter’. This simple act involves opening a door to another world as noted. In that world, time doesn’t exist. It normally takes me what would be about an hour's time to traverse from one door to another in that world, but back in this world, a mere second is all that elapses. You’ve experienced this world for yourself. You’ve felt its… exceptionalism, haven’t you?”
Jonathan swallowed hard at the mention of this.
“The door to that world can be opened by rendering a series of knocks in an unique pattern. This pattern derives from the ritual conducted by the cultists.”
“I-I don’t understand,” Jonathan interrupted softly. His intervention startled the man a bit. “Why would they want to enter a world like that?”
Occam frowned, not answering initially. “If you recall, I mentioned that the cultists conducted their rituals and worshipping in the underground city. They worshiped what they referred to as the Teneborsi. Roughly translated as ‘the dark, shadowy ones.’ ”
A strong shiver quickly crept down Jonathan’s back. His memory donned on the figures he had seen earlier before Occam managed to pull him back. He was grateful his eyes were not able to view them clearly, but even so, the image of their obscure forms even darker than the world itself still brought faint tears in his eyes.
“In that world, the Teneborsi dwell. In the texts, we found out they taught the earlier cultists how to use dark magic. In the end, the cultists began to worship the beings. In return for their knowledge, the cultists conducted sacrifices to them.”
“Sacrifices?” Jonathan repeated. “What kind of sacrifices?”
Occam paused for a moment, before continuing on, ignoring the question.
“I began the study of the Arts, learning as those cultists of past had done so. Soon, I was able to devise a way that would suit a performance in front of audiences without divulging the fact that I really was using magic.”
“I don’t understand," Jonathan brought up. "I saw you… in that place. Those things noticed me, but they didn’t notice you.”
“Trust me, lad. They did more than notice you. Teneborsi are greedy brunch, lad. They would sooner fight among themselves to obtain their prize," Occam explained. "They act as simple observers... only in the beginning. When the time is right, they pounce trying to beat the other from reaching their target.”
Jonathan gulped ever harder.
“They don’t notice me because I veil myself in the same manner as the cultists. They had special material so that beings would know who the sacrifice was. I had this material applied to all of my clothes, although it doesn’t last very long. I've done the same with my shoes, I’m sure you noticed my glowing footprints."
Jonathan took a second to glance down at them.
"A brutal bunch," Occam continued, "but those people were cunning enough to use special incantations in their footwear. This allowed them to find their way back from the darkness,” Occam concluded. “There you see, now you know all my secrets.”
“True,” Jonathan replied, “but there’s just one thing you haven’t answered.”
Occam’s frown returned, knowing the question already.
“The sacrifices, am I right?” he asked.
Jonathan simply nodded.
The magician took another long solemn sigh. “I am not bad man, I assure you. What I do, I do without choice and in complete discontent,” he started. A few tears began to swell up in his eyes. “The veil for my clothes… it only lasts a short time.”
A tear began to roll down his cheek.
“And those… things, they cornered me one day. They threatened to... what they would do to me I cannot put into words.”
His face was now in his hands and he was balling out in tears. Jonathan didn’t know what to do, but for some reason his body reacted placing his hand on the man’s shoulder for comfort.
“They asked me to send them others in my place. If I did so, I could use their realm for whatever I please,” he continued from his hands. "More so, they would leave me unharmed."
“How did you...?” Jonathan began to ask, but stopped in his words, realizing the answer for himself.
“That’s right, my boy,” Occam replied, looking up. “The second part of my transporter act. When I ask for the audience to volunteer, I’m really asking for a 'sacrifice' to those fiends.”
Jonathan backed away from the man. His thoughts sprung on all the people he had witnessed volunteer for the act. He even recalled wishing he could be a part of the act.
“What happens to them?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Occam replied solemnly. “The cultists’ texts only mentioned that they couldn’t take the light of our world; it’s too bright for them. I simply know that people enter that world, but what returns in their place isn’t a human being anymore.”
Another shiver fell down Jonathan’s back.
“What do they want?” he asked.
At that moment, Occam gave Jonathan the most frightening look he had ever seen from the man; it was look of pure uncertainty.
“I do not know,” he replied.
The awkward silence between the two lasted for minutes before Occam finally rose to his feet. He walked over to a table in the corner and proceeded to pour himself a glass of bourbon. The silence continued as he sipped on the glass slowly staring off into space.
Finally, Jonathan spoke out unable to coup with the quietness. “You should stop this.”
Occam appeared unfazed at the words as if not hearing them. Jonathan repeated his words. In return, Occam chuckled to himself.
“If only it were that simply, my boy,” he replied.
“But it is,” Jonathan insisted. “You can’t keep handing over these people to them; you’re killing them.”
“They are killing them, lad, not I. I am simply a courier,” he said, sipping his glass without looking back.
“Handing them over makes you as much a killer as them.”
The words didn’t seem to sit well with Occam. He threw his glass into the wall before running up to the boy and grabbing him.
“I am no killer! I’m nothing like those things! They do it, it’s all them, it always was!” His eyes blared like a madman, peering deep into Jonathan’s as he shook the boy.
Seeing the fear engulf the boy’s eyes, he swiftly released his grip.
“I’m sorry, lad,” he said shamefully. “I can’t do what you’re asking of me. Every time I enter that world, I am reminded of the horror I do. I can feel them touching me, feel their sorrows seep upon my face… I’m sorry. My hands are tied, and I don’t know what to do.”
Jonathan placed his hand on his shoulder.
“You once told me to never forget why I loved magic, that my love for it would be the reason enough to help me through the rough times. What this is, isn’t magic, it’s evil,” he said calmly. “You know what to do.”
The man calmly looked at Jonathan pulling away soon after.
“I’m sorry, child. I cannot to do what you ask of me.”
With that answer, Jonathan reached into his pockets pulling out the two decks of cards, his worn out one and the newer deck given to him by Occam. He handed the cards over to Occam who returned a puzzled gaze. Afterwards, he slowly walked over to the door.
“It’s my life or theirs, child,” Occam muttered weakly with a trembling lip.
Jonathan opened the door, turning around to the man. “I know. I also know you lost your love for magic. You used to be Occam Cobb the greatest magician in the world. You were my idol. Right now, it’s your life you love the most. If this is where true magic takes you, then I’m done with it,” he said coldly, shutting the down behind him, leaving the man alone.
He took his time walking home. While he did, he recalled the words his mother pushed on him the days before. She knew one day he would get over magic. Somehow inside, he knew she would be right, but deep down, it wasn’t the reason he thought he would do it for.
The following day, the paper’s headline read: “The Great Occam Cobb's Final Performance Will Be Held Tonight!”
“It’s the last day to see your idol, you going to it, kid,” Mr. Garrett asked.
Jonathan shook his head softly. “No, I think I’m over him.”
The answer gave Mr. Garrett a puzzled look. He was ready to question the boy further on it, but Jonathan had walked away to complete his work. Mr. Garrett soon shrugged the matter off and returned to reading his newspaper.
The following day Jonathan was met with an alarming headline: “The Great Occam Cobb Vanishes.”
The headline caught his attention and he began reading the article out loud:
“Occam Cobb known as the greatest magician of our time set out to perform his final show over the evening. The magician had been doing well selling out tickets to all his shows for the entire week. His performances dazzled audiences with never before seen marvels. His most noteworthy one, ‘The Occam Transporter’, had audiences baffled beyond belief.
"However, events took a turn when the famed magician elected to transport an audience member having already done so himself. Audiences were thrown for a loop when Cobb elected to enter the box again instead of the selected volunteer. Even stranger, the audience was surprised when the magician never appeared in the other box as prior depicted. At first, the audience thought it was joke, but when the magician never appeared after several minutes, people began to worry.
"As of now, local officials are investigating. If anyone has information on Occam Cobb’s disappearance, they are to contact local authorities immediately,” Jonathan finished.
“Shame thing indeed, sorry about all that, kid,” Mr. Garrett replied, overhearing him read the article.
Jonathan didn’t respond. He had done it, he thought. He defied them. He felt a small smile form across his lips. He was a true lover of magic after all.
Many years later, Jonathan became a successful businessman. At some point, he managed to earn enough to take care of his mother. They moved away from the city, owning a nice house in the countryside. His mother who no longer had to work long hours spent most of her days attending the garden of the house.
One day, Jonathan was in the city for business. While passing an old newspaper stand, he caught sight of the headline: “Be Amazed as a Man Claiming to Be the Once Great Occam Cobb Performs Tonight!”
This article struck Jonathan odd, but he shrugged it off believing it to be a man honoring the legacy of Occam. Later that night, he decided to watch the show for old time's sake.
That evening at the show, he sat in the middle row. It wasn’t as close as the seat he had as a child, but it was close enough. The show began with the orchestra blaring their ambitious instruments like he remembered. He smiled to himself, the moment bringing back nostalgic memories.
Immediately, after the instruments began playing, a man emerged upon the stage. He looked vaguely familiar. It wasn’t until he stepped clear into the light that Jonathan could see him. When he did, his heart dropped and his eyes grew big.
There standing on the stage was Occam Cobb, who appeared as if he hadn’t aged a day since the last time he saw him. Even stranger, Occam appeared to squint many times as if the light was too bright for him to bear.
Written by Vngel W