The True Meaning of Magic

As the wind whipped through the dark and crowded streets of London, Castro sat on the balcony of an abandoned clock tower, overlooking one of the busiest streets in the club district in London. The particular avenue he had been keeping watch over was filled with dazzling casinos, clubs and bars, and each had their own sets of glittering lights to woo the common passerby. Lines for the various clubs and bars stretched down each side of the street for what seemed like blocks on end. The night was so full of energy and vigor, it was revitalizing for someone like Castro, who loved to watch people. At times, Castro even felt like he was his own demented version of Jay Gatsby, getting pleasure out of watching everyone else enjoying themselves. 

The only issue Castro had with London was the winter temperatures, as the wind was often chilling to the bone. It was one of the coldest places that he’d traveled to, but he had a nice way to combat the cold. Castro drew a cigarette from his cloak pocket, and lodged it in his mouth. He held his forefinger to the butt of the cigarette, and concentrated for a moment. Warmth spread through his body, and reached his outstretched digit, which now displayed a tiny flame, which flickered right above his fingertip, making his own makeshift lighter. He lit his cigarette and took a long, deep puff which eased his mind and warmed him up immediately. It almost made Castro forget how lonely he was atop his perch. Living like a nomad wasn’t exactly easy in the modern world, that was certain. But the life of a modern day magician wasn’t easy by any means.

Magicians of Castro’s kind have existed on earth for a very long time. The first notable time Magicians would pop up in recorded history would be in early colonial North America, known to most as the Salem Witch Trials. Before then, magicians had no reason to hide their abilities, so they often flaunted them, most times using them to benefit their communities. That was until the other settlers grew paranoid, and began to kill them off, one by one. Following this period of mass hysteria, the surviving magicians had to stow away their powers in fear for their lives, and the first breed of bounty hunters was born out of the true witch haters. 

Bounty hunters were people who had the ultimate goal of wiping the remaining magicians off the face of the earth. Hence, Castro had to keep his powers hidden. His parents had been some of the most influential magicians in recent times for their attempts to unite and save the magic world. Their life’s work was trying to reunify the magicians of the world and form a coalition to work against the bounty hunters together. However this would in turn be the reason for their downfall. Castro still had the memory etched into his head, when he woke up in the middle of the night smelling smoke, and seeing his house ablaze. He remembered the screams that penetrated through the night and haunted him from this very day. He was the only one that made it out of the house alive. 

Outside of his extraordinary abilities, Castro, and every other magician looked just like anybody else, average height, average attractiveness, rich brown hair, the whole nine yards. It made it easier for him to integrate into an orphan home for the rest of his childhood, and then continue on into his adult life. He didn’t mind looking average, it made it easier for him to blend in to hide from the bounty hunters, but sometimes he wished he could be normal, like everybody else he watched from afar. On nights like these tried his luck at small bars around the city. 

Tonight he had his eyes set on one in particular. The Lazy Ox Tavern, sandwiched between two of the biggest clubs in all of the United Kingdom. As Castro stepped into the tiny pub, he realized the building wasn’t much. There was a bar area, a couple tables and chairs, crowded with people shouting profanity at each other and slamming their cups on the tables. There was a group of guys playing billiards, some others playing darts. The bar area itself was mostly empty, with only one occupant, a woman. She looked a little younger, maybe early twenties. His guess was she was winding down university or fresh out of it. Whatever the case, she looked the most promising. 

“Hey, how are you tonight,” Castro said suavely as he approached the woman, and slid into the adjacent barstool. He asked the bartender for a drink, and he nodded and got to work. 

“Can I help you?” the woman asked, clearly annoyed by Castro’s presence, but he pressed on.

“Would you like to go somewhere quieter? I think I might have something you would like to see,” intending on wooing the woman with his special abilities. 

“Get away from me you creepy old man,” the blonde said disgustedly and she thrust her drink toward him, which effectively silenced Castro, and walked away.

“Here’s your drink buddy,” The bartender said, trying to stifle a laugh, and setting down his cup. 

“Maybe there was a better way I could have worded that,” he whispered quietly to himself, wiping the alcohol out of his face and grabbing his drink. This was turning out to be a failure like every other night. “I’m not even that old either.”

“Excuse me, Is this seat taken?” A voice asked from behind him, jarring Castro from his thoughts. He turned around to find another innocent looking woman, around his age, looking at him expectantly. Castro couldn’t help but stare, completely dumbfounded. 

“Hello? Anybody in there?” she asked, tapping Castro lightly on his forehead, and giggling.

“S-Sorry, no, nobody’s sitting there anymore,” Castro said, tripping on his own words. 

“Great, I needed a break from the club, and I figured I could use a drink to cool off, you know.” She explained. “My name's Penelope by the way.”

“I’m Castro.” 

She smiled warmly, then averted her attention to the bartender, and asked for a drink. While it was being made, she swiveled herself back to face Castro and furthered her conversation with him. “How’s your night going so far, i’m guessing it can’t be much better than mine.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Castro laughed dully. “As you can see I haven’t had much luck either.” He motioned to his soaked outfit, and she laughed again. 

“If you think that’s bad, the only reason I'm out here tonight is because I suspected my boyfriend was cheating on me. My friend tipped me off a couple weeks ago when she saw him getting grinded on by another girl out here, when he told me he was going to be at a business meeting for the night. So when he said he was going out for another meeting tonight, I came here to see if he was lying again, and sure enough he was here with that same girl.”

“God, I'm so sorry, that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine what something like that would feel like.”

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of relationship drama.”

“No, not really,” Castro said, swirling his drink. 

“What? I think you’re lying to me,” Penelope raised her eyebrow in suspicion. Castro looked up and opted to get a better look at Penelope. She had a beautiful complexion, and her face was peppered with tiny freckles that were barely darker than her skin. Her smile seemed perfect, and complimented her skin tone flawlessly.

“Nope, I've never actually been in a real relationship before.” He thought about his next words carefully for a moment, then continued. “I travel a lot for work so it’s difficult to really get in the dating sphere.”

“Oh, really? What do you do for work?”

“I guess you could say I'm a...traveling magician of sorts.” 

“Oh, so you travel around and perform at little kids’ parties and stuff? Are you famous or something?”

“Oh no…far from famous actually. But yeah, I travel around and that's what pays the bills.” She nodded and sat in silence, for a while. She looked like she was afraid to say what she wanted to say next, but she spit it out anyway.

“So could you show me a trick right now? I don’t mean to put you on the spot but I'm just so curious.”

“Yeah, I guess I could.” Castro responded. The bartender interrupted them by sliding Penelope’s drink across the counter. She snatched it, and brought it up to her lips.

“Well, I'm waiting,” she said, flashing a coy smile. Castro glanced around the counter, searching for a prop he could use. There, perfect! He slid the napkin he was using as a coaster out from under his drink, and then grabbed a pen from his pocket. “Pick a number, let’s say anywhere from 1-100, but don’t tell me, just think of it in your head, okay?”

She nodded to confirm she understood, and continued watching Castro intently. He scribbled a bunch on the napkin, and revealed it to her, showing a mess of ink splattered across the paper. He then dipped it into his drink, and let it sit for a second much to Penelope’s surprise.

“Is that supposed to be part of the trick?” she asked warily, possibly thinking that Castro had a screw loose. Castro remained silent, drawing the napkin from his drink, kneading the water out, then presenting the napkin in front of Penelope, which by now was almost disintegrated, but still showcased two digits, plain as day.

26.

Penelope sat in shock for a second.

“Is that the number you were thinking of?” he grinned, but he already knew the answer.

“Yeah that was the number! How in the world did you guess that right?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets, that would ruin the trick,” Castro replied smugly.

“Well, you’ve piqued my interest now. What do you say we ditch this sorry joint, and go somewhere more exciting?”

“Umm…well actually…” Castro began. 

“What, you don’t want to leave with me?” she asked, obviously flustered.

“No, I do… it’s just that I just don’t have a car or anything,” Castro replied matter of factly. 

“How in the world do you travel around so mu-” she stopped in her tracks, then continued. “You know what I'm not even going to ask. My guess is that you have some obscure magical way of traveling.” She smiled infectiously and Castro couldn’t help but smile himself. 

….  

As they rode through the city, dodging and weaving through the grid like streets, Castro felt a strange feeling rising through him, something he never experienced prior. The feeling was indescribable, it felt like, well…magic! Using his own magical powers didn’t feel as good as how he felt riding with this girl through the city. Along their ride, Penelope made a big deal of pointing out some of her favorite places around the city, shouting over the sound of her motorcycle and the other traffic so Castro could hear. She showed him her favorite places to eat, the bookstore she spent most of her college years studying, and her old apartment. Before he had even realized it, they had made it across town, and they were now at the bank of the Thames river. 

Penelope’s motorcycle came to a sputtering stop next to a pier overlooking the water. Penelope and Castro eased off the bike, and stepped over the pier and began strolling down the dock together, looking up at the stars. The moon reflected off the water perfectly, giving Penelope’s face an ethereal glow. 

“So traveler, what brings you out to London?”

“I don’t know, I guess I kind of freefell through Europe and this is where I ended up,” Castro answered truthfully. “What about you?”

“My family’s lived here my entire life, and to be honest I've tried to leave a couple times, but I keep getting drawn back. As much as it pains me to say it, I love this place.”

Family. That word hit Castro like a sack of bricks. “Do you mind if I smoke to clear my head?” 

“As long as you have enough to share,” she said grinning. He handed her one of his cigarettes, and put one in his own mouth. Out of habit, he began to concentrate and the small flame popped out of his finger again, and he reached over and lit Penelope’s cigarette. 

“How did you do that?” Penelope asked, gawking at him, her face full of surprise. Castro nearly jumped out of his skin. Shoot, he used real magic in front of her! No use keeping the secret from her any longer.

“Penelope, I have something to tell you,” Castro said, lighting his own, and putting out the flame. “I’m…a real magician.”

“So you actually…have powers,” she asked bewildered. “How?”

“It’s a long story, and I don’t know how, but my parents were both magicians too, just like me, before they were killed.”

“Wait, they were killed? By who?”

Castro recounted the horrible night, sparing no detail. He told her about the fire, the bounty hunters and the traveling and the struggle to survive. When he was done, he looked back at Penelope’s blank face.

“Sorry, I know that’s probably a lot to take in at once.” 

“It’s okay, I totally understand,” she responded quickly. “You know what, I think the mood’s getting too heavy out here. What do you say we lighten up and have some more fun?” She nodded to a large glowing wheel in front of them. The London eye.

…

The line for the Eye was surprisingly short, Castro’s guess was the cold weather had driven a lot of people away. Castro and Penelope engaged in some small talk, but were careful to leave the more explicit matters for when they were alone. However, for the duration of their wait, Castro couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He figured he was just being paranoid, but when he and Penelope entered their carriage, he caught a glimpse of a man’s wrist who was a few spots behind them. A triangle tattoo, with a circle in the middle. The mark of a magical bounty hunter. Castro realized the man was glaring at him, a look so cold Castro couldn’t help but shiver.

As they began their ascent into the sky, Castro remained silent, as Penelope gushed about the London Eye. 

“The view of the city is truly breathtaking up here isn’t it,” She said looking outside the window, “Everybody down there looks like tiny little ants.”

“It really is amazing,” Castro smiled, but he couldn’t ease the pit in his stomach that was beginning to take root.”

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Penelope asked, sliding over to Castro’s side of the carriage and cuddling up next to him. “You’ve been awfully quiet ever since we got on this ride.”

Castro couldn’t bear to keep the information from her any longer. “I saw a bounty hunter down on the pier. They’re always marked by a tattoo on their wrist, a triangle with a circle in the center.

“Oh no…” she peered at the window, glancing through the crowds of people down below, “Are you completely sure? Maybe you’re just being paranoid because you used your powers.”

“Yes I'm sure, it couldn’t have been any more clear,” Castro's voice rose with fear more than he anticipated. 

“Okay, jeez. How in the world are we going to get you out of here?” She could really sense his panic now. 

“Well…I always have a backup plan for situations like these, but…”

“What’s wrong?” she asked tentatively, sensing that the news would not be good.

“I won't be able to return here. It will be far too dangerous for us both. It’s likely there will be a swarm of bounty hunters patrolling the city for ages, now that they’ve spotted a magician here.” Penelope looked down at her shoes for a long time, and the ride began its descent.

“Can I ask you one thing before I go?” Castro asked, and she nodded. “Why did you sit next to me at the bar tonight? There were so many other open seats.”

“Well…you know what they say, right? If you don’t believe in magic you’ll never find it. I’m not going to live forever, so I figured I'll try to find my magic any chance I can. Find something that makes life worth living while I'm still here,” she said as a tear ran down her cheek. 

“I like that a lot,” he said, pondering her words for a second. What made his life worth living?

Penelope interrupted his thoughts by leaning in to kiss him goodbye. When she pulled away, she whispered in his ear. “You are my magic Castro. Even if this is the last time I ever see you, I will never forget this night.”

“I will come back for you one day,” Castro smiled at her, then retreated to the other side of the carriage. He looked at Penelope’s loving gaze one final time, and prepared himself for what he was about to do.“Penelope, cover your eyes.”

She gave him a strange look, but ultimately obeyed his request. All she could hear was a hissing sound, followed by a bright flash of light. When she uncovered her eyes, the seat across from her was vacant. Castro was gone. 

When the ride reached the end of its line and Penelope left the carriage by herself, the ride operator would wonder what happened to the man that had accompanied Penelope on the ride, but would ultimately let it go. Maybe she was just imagining things and Penelope had been alone all along. It wasn’t like someone could just disappear. After all, there was no such thing as magic.