The Radio Magician and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF

room.”
    Clarence recognized the man’s voice. He introduced and narrated Professor Gilded’s Glorious Magical Extravaganza. He said “hell” on the air at the end of the last show.
    John straightened. His voice deepened. “I’m not responsible for your irrational fears. If you can’t separate a trick from reality, then you have the problem, not me.” It was Professor Gilded’s voice, without the accent. He stood in between the two chairs, only a yard from Clarence, and he didn’t look like he was going to move.
    Keeping his briefcase between them, the other man scooted along the front windows until he reached the sound engineer’s door. He found the knob without looking away from John. “I’ll announce the show, but I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Keep your distance. There’s nothing natural about you.” The door slammed behind him.
    John shrugged. He looked at Clarence. “Sorry you had to see that. He had difficulty with the horse trick. It . . . disturbed him.”
    “Did you . . . I mean, did the professor really make a horse turn into bones?” Clarence’s heart thumped in his throat.
    “If you think so, then he did. That’s the perception trick. An audience thought he did. And Bob there . . . well,” he moved toward the studio door. “He believes.”
    He stopped at the secretary’s desk. “The only thing I really know about magic, kid, is that if there isn’t some of it in the world, then we live in a dark, dark place. If you’ve got any, you have to share it.”
    The secretary reached into her hair. “Hey, what’s this?”
    John plucked the object off her palm. He looked at it, genuinely puzzled. “1910 quarter eagle. Isn’t this yours?” He walked back to Clarence, the coin between his fingers. “Nice trick.”
    The coin dropped into Clarence’s hand. He hadn’t even realized that John had taken it.
    “Nice trick yourself.”
    John paused. “I didn’t do anything. How’d you pull it off? Pass it when she gave you the water? No, don’t tell me. A magician never tells. But I like it. Effective illusion. Okay, gotta go. There will be a whole audience here soon, and the stage isn’t ready.” He shook Clarence’s hand. “Somebody’s got to amaze them all.” He laughed, and Clarence thought he’d heard a hint of a European accent in it.
    Then, he was gone. Clarence tossed the gold piece from one hand to the other.
    The secretary looked at him pityingly. “If there were room in the studio, kid, he’d let you in, but we’re booked for weeks.”
    When Clarence stood on the sidewalk outside the radio station, his arms felt completely without strength. Had he used up everything he had to get to the station? He stepped forward, letting most of his weight rest on the crutches, his breath ripping in short gasps against his aching legs. No hike could have ever been longer. He thought about soldiers marching to far off fronts, their courage flitting about them, not knowing if they would make it back, but he kept pushing forward, his braces clicking against the cement. The metal creaked at the knees, and he went steps at a time with his eyes closed.
    By the time he reached the trolley stop, he could hardly inhale, and his heart flurried like a trapped bird. Was this the beginning of a new paralysis? He whimpered. Cars passed on Broadway in the afternoon sun, and only after agonizing minutes the trolley trundled into sight.
    “Please,” gasped Clarence as the same driver from his ride downtown lifted him into the car, “can you take me to the hospital?”
    Every bump jarred his legs. He held the back of his thighs to try to keep them from bouncing, but he couldn’t anticipate the next jolt. His cheek rested against the wooden sill under the window, and tears leaked between his closed eyelids. Finally the trolley stopped.
    “Hospital, young man,” said the driver, concern in his voice.
    Clarence struggled to get his crutches under his arms.
    “No need. I’ve sent