Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

“Well, that was reassuring what the doctor said. Since you’re going to be here waiting for Jack to wake up in a few hours, you should all get something to eat. Keep your own strength up while you wait,” Aaron glibly advised as we walked into the hospital cafeteria.

I don’t believe any of us were particularly hungry but we followed Aaron in a dazed fog of concern about Daddy. The doctors had immediately treated him, stabilized him, and given him a mild sedative by the time we arrived at the hospital. They assured us that father had suffered a minor heart attack and was out of danger now, all thanks to the close proximity of the hospital to The Lodge and Dr. Rosenberg’s daredevil driving skills. We numbly sat ourselves at a table in the corner of the cafeteria but Aaron was still on his feet.

“I’ll get us some coffee and a nice selection of pastries. Any preferences?” We all shook our heads. “Okay. I’m going back to The Lodge after coffee. When you’re ready to return, just call the front desk and they’ll send a car for you. Mrs. Ross, Jeremy, are you coming with me?”

“No, Aaron, we’re staying with Lindsey and her grandmother,” Elena replied. “But, thank you for the offer.”

“Do you have to leave? Don’t you want to wait until my Dad wakes up?” I asked, my voice quavering.

“Sam said he’ll be fine. He’s a doctor. He knows from whereof he speaks. No, I’ve got to catch a plane to Las Vegas tonight. Amanda and I are pooling our money together and placing a prop bet on the PGA Championship this weekend that could win us a cool million.”

“That’s impossible. Don’t give me that shmegegge!” my grandmother retorted.

“No, it’s real, Mrs. Azoff,” Aaron smiled. “We’re putting down $10,000 on Jack Nicklaus not finishing in the top ten after the final round Sunday. At 100 to 1 odds, it’s a million-dollar payout! Everyone thinks he’ll win. He’s already won 2 majors this year. He’s bound to make a mis-step. Nobody’s winning streak goes on forever. Take it from me. I know.” He turned toward the food counter, stopped and said over his shoulder, “The coffee’s on me. Thanks to you two, I’ve got a spare $100 I’m itching to spend.”

“Am I the only one who thinks someone dropped him on his head when he was a toddler?”

We ate in silence, all of us deep in thought. Grandma, Elena, Jeremy and I were worried about father, even though the doctors said it was a minor heart attack and he was bound to make a full recovery. Aaron, on the other hand, was seeing dollar signs dancing in his fevered mind (and undoubtedly looking forward to spending a lost weekend with Amanda in Sin City).

My own thoughts swirled around what the doctors had told us outside of Dad’s room. Sam Rosenberg and Dr. Chowdhury tag-teamed their prognosis of Dad’s condition as we sat on the couches in the hallway. Fragments of what they said replayed over and over in my mind as I half-heartedly munched on the croissant I had dipped in my coffee.

Grandmother shook her head dolefully. “Year and years of being on the road, going from city to city, venue to venue. Staying in motels and eating terrible food. I remember your father telling me before he met your mother he’d even sleep in his car to save on hotel bills or cajoling club managers to give him a free sandwich for dinner after he finished his act. And disregarding his own health. Uncle Saul offered to give him an annual checkup for free but he never accepted. Baruch HaShem! At least he was lucky this time.”

“It wasn’t his time, Mrs. Azoff,” Elena said, brushing grandmother’s arm with her hand.

“Poor Lindsey. Jack won’t be able to work for months. Even if he could, by the time he’s fully recovered, everything will be booked through the first of the new year. I assume the insurance will cover his medical expenses but who’s going to pay Lindsey’s school tuition? I don’t know how Jack got you into a boys’ Yeshiva but—”

“I could do the magic act by myself,” I blurted out.

Before Aaron could speak, Elena jumped in. “Yes, Lindsey’s perfectly capable of doing her father’s magic act. And to be honest, more people are coming to see her than Jack.” She turned to me. “Such a pretty girl. Who wouldn’t?” She faced Aaron. “Now, Aaron, if you’ll give Lindsey until Tuesday to take over for her father, I will help her flesh out her act. Do I have your approval?”

“Sure. But what do you know about magic, Elena?” Aaron asked.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

Dad looked up from his hospital bed, groggy but smiling broadly at us. The four of us (Elena and Jeremy were allowed by Dr. Chowdhury to come in with Grandma and me) surrounded his bed. On either side of him, Grandma and I leaned over and kissed his cheeks.

“I ought to have a heart attack every now and again just to have my family show me a little affection,” Dad laughed as he stroked my right cheek.

“How do you feel, Daddy?”

“Glad I’m still alive. Good thing Doc Rosenberg is the Richard Petty of the medical profession. And we didn’t even get a ticket for speeding. I like Sam.”

“He’s a nice Jewish boy. A doctor like your Uncle Saul who you never went to see. He wasn’t even going to charge you! You know how difficult it is to make a doctor’s appointment? And for free?” Grandma crossed her arms in front of her.

“The doctor says you’re going to need at least several weeks of convalescence,” Elena said.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Dad glumly said. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to afford sending you back to the Yeshiva this Fall. You’re going to have to attend one of the fine public high schools in the bosom of New Jersey.”

“I’m still not clear on how you were able to get Lindsey into a boys’ Yeshiva, Jack—”

“There won’t be a need for that, Jack,” Elena quickly interrupted. “Aaron has agreed to let Lindsey do the act solo. I’ve promised to help her sharpen the rough edges, maybe even improve it.”

“You…you have a background in magic, Elena?” Dad was confused.

“Like I told Aaron…you’d be surprised.”

“Don’t worry about it, Daddy. I know the act backwards and forwards. That way Aaron can’t renege on the contract we signed. Don’t you think I can do it?”

“It’s not that, kiddo. You’re only 16. You’ll be up here all alone while me and your grandmother are back in New Jersey—”

“I’ll keep a close eye on her, Jack. Don’t worry. I’ll treat her like my own granddaughter,” Elena vowed, winking her right eye at me.

After dinner, back at The Lodge, Elena and I took a stroll around the grounds. It was a delightfully cool summer evening for August in the Northeast. A light breeze wafted in from the hills that encircled the valley The Lodge was nestled in.

“Do you remember that first night we talked under the stars, the week you met Jeremy and I?”

“Yes, of course, Elena.”

“And that spectacle in the sky I made you see?”

“Yes, yes! How did you do that?”

“You can do it too, Lindsey. I can teach you how.”

“Are you going to make me a witch like you made me a girl?”

“Silly girl, I’m not a witch. Come, sit here next to me.” She led me to a bench underneath a trellis festooned in vines of purple wisteria. Taking my right hand, she looked straight into my eyes.

“It is important to control the pitch and tempo of your voice. The distinct tone can imbue your words with incantatory power. My words will conjure in your mind the image I wish to project to you.”

“It’s telepathy you’re talking about?”

“That’s a scientific definition. This is beyond the empirical. Beyond the collation of data. Close your eyes, sweetie. Empty your mind of extraneous thoughts. Now, listen to my words.”

There was a brief interval of silence as I kept my eyelids shut. My mind was a blank (as my friend Sheila always claimed).

“You are sitting in a gondola in the Grand Canal in Venice. In the distance but slowly approaching as the gondolier’s oar slices through the water is the iconic Rialto Bridge. Do you see it?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

“Feel the damp, cool breeze rustling through your hair. Sitting next to you is Jeremy. He is gazing at you with unalloyed devotion, a smile of joy on his lips. He opens his mouth to speak—”

“Lindsey! Lindsey! Here you are—”

I opened my eyes, shocked to hear Jeremy’s voice in the distance. I was sitting on a bench underneath a trellis of purple wisteria vines. Elena was next to me. And then, fast approaching was Jeremy. He stopped in front of the bench, a wide grin on his face.

“I was looking all over for you. It’s Dancers’ Choice Friday at the Teen Lounge and I brought a bunch of my records for the DJ to spin. I’ve got The Stones, Alice Cooper, Elton John, Chicago, Stevie Wonder…others too.”

He held out his hand to me.

“Go, sweetheart. Have some fun. Take your mind off your father. He’s going to be alright. We’ll continue your lessons tomorrow morning. Let’s meet in the Supper Club at, say, 10:30.”

I hugged Elena. “Thank you for everything, Elena. What would I do without you?”

“Hey, I’m trying to help too,” Jeremy declared, taking my hand.

I looked back over my shoulder to wave and, for an instant, saw the Rialto Bridge looming over the trellis covered in purple wisteria.