The Magician's Daughter - Ch. 4

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026 SammyC

“You’re not a girl, Lindsey. You’re a boy.”

“How did you know? Everyone thinks I’m a girl! Jeremy’s in love with me,” I spluttered, half wanting to just run away, half afraid of this strange old woman’s intentions.

“It’s alright, child. I’m not going to expose your little masquerade. After all, you’re not doing this to hurt anyone. You’re being a dutiful…daughter. I respect that,” she explained, taking me gently by the shoulders.

“Are…are you going to tell Jeremy? I really do like him…as a friend,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper.

Elena laughed softly. “Lindsey, no I won’t tell Jeremy. He needs a friend. Especially a pretty one like you. We’ll find a proper time to tell him about your circumstances.”

“He’ll hate me. Daddy warned me.”

“Your father is right. Playing with other people’s emotions can lead to bitter consequences. But, Jeremy will understand…when the time comes. For now, rest assured, like everyone else at The Lodge, he’ll remain absolutely convinced that you are what you seem, a beautiful young girl.”

“How did you know? You say I’m totally convincing—”

“Perhaps my powers of observation are somewhat greater than what others possess.”

“You’re some kind of—”

“Witch? Is that what you think?”

“Well, a good witch…I think.”

“I will make you a promise, Lindsey. I will do everything I can to help you and your father have a successful summer engagement at The Lodge. You may be surprised by the multi-faceted nature of the assistance I can provide. I do this because you’ve utterly charmed my grandson and I do not want his summer spoiled by heartbreak and sadness. Additionally, I find you very interesting.”

“Like a laboratory rat?”

“Perhaps, my dear, you can become my summer experiment. Heaven knows it can get rather boring in these bucolic surroundings for three months.” She turned me around as we headed back to The Lodge. “You can tell your father about my offer to help you. Reassure him that I have no ulterior motive than to see a daughter going the last mile to prove her filial love.”

“But I’m still unsure of what you can do for us in a concrete way. Other than just keeping my true identity under your hat—”

Elena stopped and looked me over from head to toe. She shook her head and laughed again.

“You’re very pretty, Lindsey. An auburn-haired vision. But what do you know about make-up, how to style your hair, what clothes are both flattering and appropriate in any given social occasion, how to act like a young woman among people your own age and older adults?”

I shook my head.

“Precisely. Let Elena guide you. First off, I’ll help you with your make-up and hair. Your first show starts at 7. I know the main dressing room at the Club has a dedicated bathroom so that’s convenient. Is that the one they assigned you and your father?”

I nodded affirmatively.

“Then I’ll arrive at 6. An hour should be more than enough to get you sorted out.” She took my shoulders in her strong grip and looked me straight in the eyes. “You’ll be the most beautiful magician’s assistant these Lodge guests have ever seen!”

“I still can’t believe you’re willing to do this for me…and my Dad.”

“Think of me as your fairy grandmother!” Elena’s laugh reverberated in the silent darkness of the late evening. A middle-aged couple, walking arm in arm, passed by us, puzzled by the unlikely pair of us loudly laughing.

“That’s nice of her but what is she getting out of this? Did she ask for a cut of our fees?” Dad leaned on his left elbow as he addressed me from the side of his bed. He was already in bed at a little past 9PM. Not like him at all.

“No, Daddy, not one dime. Why do you always think the worst of people? She’s a nice old lady. Isn’t that enough?”

“What about this Jeremy kid? Do you think she really won’t tell?”

“She promised. Why are you in bed? It’s only 9?”

“Feeling really tired, kiddo. Best to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big, big day…”

When I turned back to speak to Dad after switching off the TV, he’d apparently fallen asleep in mid-sentence. I was worried. I’d never seen my father so enervated. He was barely 50 years old after all.

I sat at the vanity table in our dressing room. Elena had already perfectly done my makeup. To accentuate my auburn hair and fair skin, she chose something called Coral Peach for my eyeshadow. Black mascara applied to my elongated eyelashes made the green flecks in my hazel eyes stand out. She brushed Bubble Gum Pink lip gloss on my lips and I was so fascinated by the way it looked that I puckered my lips as if in a kiss several times. What would it feel like to kiss Jeremy with these shiny pink lips?

“Pay attention, Lindsey!,” Elena scolded me. “Try to remember each step in the process we’ve just gone through. I’m not going to be able to do this for you every night. Now keep your head still.”

She plugged in a curling iron and proceeded to make cascades of tight waves on either side of my head. I marveled at the transformation I was undergoing as I inspected my reflection in the vanity mirror.

“Where’s your father, honey?”

“He’s discussing something with the manager, Aaron Felder. Something about a new wrinkle he’s put in for the finale of the act. He didn’t tell me what.”

Elena place her hands on my shoulders. She sighed. “I could swear I was looking at your mother in the mirror. Did your mother know she had really given birth to a daughter instead of a son?”

My only response was to shake my head and fight back a tear.

“Well, let’s see how you look in your costume.” She lifted the bustier to view and remarked, “Your mother must have known. Your sewing skills are first-rate. She taught you well—”

“Oh, that was my grandmother. She basically raised me since my parents were on the road 40 weeks a year.”

“Didn’t she want you to be a rabbi?”

I went behind the dressing screen. As I wiggled my way into my tight-fitting costume, I said, matter-of-factly, “I guess there’s no chance of that happening now.”

The Supper Club was filled to capacity. An audience of 60 to 70 well-dressed Lodge guests seated at 30 round tables trained their expectant eyes at my father and I as we strode out onto the small stage under twin spotlights. We bowed to the crowd before Daddy started his introductory remarks, filled with well-worn jokes and familiar chatter. Other than uttering a barely audible hello when my father introduced me, I remained silent while smiling into the smoke-filled darkness.

The act went smoothly. The round of close-up card tricks reliably amazed the audience. As Daddy had planned on, the male patrons couldn’t stop looking at my legs and other attractive parts while various cards were being surreptitiously on their persons, in coat pockets, behind shirt collars, and, even their wives’ purses. It was a testament to how dexterous Dad had become over years and years of performing. He had the fingers of a master pickpocket.

Since it was the early show, there were some couples who had brought along young children. For these tables, Dad performed his tried-and-true plush rabbit out of his hat trick. This evinced warm applause and parental chuckles from the audience. No one seemed to notice whenever I’d reach behind Dad and pull out another plush rabbit and furtively push it into the false top of his hat. I had to make sure there were no viewing angles that would enable someone in the audience to catch my skillful legerdemain.

The highlight of the act for me was the segment when I blindfolded Dad and sought out audience members to challenge him in guessing what object they held in their hand. I approached the table where Jeremy and his grandmother sat. I winked at Elena as I took Jeremy’s arm and pulled him up out of his seat.

“Sir. Is it sir or madam?”

“It’s a sir, Daddy. A young sir.”

“May I have your name? First names only. Legal precautions, you understand. You never know who’s watching or listening.”

“Jeremy,” he answered, looking at me rather than father.

“Jeremy, please select an object that you have, in the pockets of your clothes or any other places on your person…ahem…and hold it aloft so the audience can see.”

Jeremy took a few moments to pull out an object from his pants pocket. He held it in the air so the crowd could recognize what it was.

“I can tell from the audience reaction you’ve made your choice. Now I will try to sense without using my eyes to tell what that object is. Don’t try to do this at home, people. Only those with ESP can even attempt this.”

Dad splayed the fingers of both hands on his temples and seemed to strenuously concentrate. The audience was abuzz with hushed voices as the time seemed to drag.

“Please, everyone, be very quiet. It’s difficult for my father to sense the object when he has to cut through the noise of people’s voices,” I pleaded quite believably.

A few seconds later, after the audience went silent, Dad announced, “You are holding a knife. A penknife!”

The audience gasped and applauded. Jeremy looked at the top of my bustier. I scolded him. “You can sit down…uh…Jeremy, is it?”

“Thank you. That was a tough one. Now, Lindsey, please find me another eager audience member who wants to challenge me.”

To my surprise, after what I thought was the last segment of the act, my father walked into the center of the spotlight to address the audience.

“Before my daughter and I say good night, I would like to call up someone many of you know all too well. The Lodge’s general manager, Aaron Felder!”

Aaron hopped onto the stage and stood between me and Dad. There was tepid applause for him, mostly from the regulars, I suppose.

“I asked Aaron to participate in our final act of magic tonight. Shortly before the doors opened and the audience was seated, I asked Aaron to place my fees for tonight’s performance in an envelope and hand it to me. Right now, in fact.”

Aaron smiled as he pulled a letter-sized envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to Dad with a theatrical flourish. Dad opened the envelope and fanned out several hundred-dollar bills for the audience to see. He replaced the bills in the envelope and closed it. The stage manager brought out a metal bowl in which my father then placed the envelope. The audience gasped as he threw a lit match into the bowl. The burning envelope was reduced to ashes in seconds.

“Don’t worry, people. That was a simple sleight of hand illusion. You thought I had burned the envelope with my fees for tonight’s performance in that bowl before your very eyes. Not so, my friends. I simply switched the real envelope containing the real money with a convincing facsimile. Aaron’s inside suit pocket still holds the real envelope with the real money.” He reached into Aaron’s pocket but found it empty. “Did you move the envelope, Aaron?” My father’s voice was filled with shock and surprise.

Aaron patted his suit pockets. “No, Jack, I handed you the envelope just like you asked me to. I’m afraid your trick backfired on you. Looks like you’re not getting paid tonight. Sorry.”

My mouth was agape. How could this happen? It was a new addition to the act but Dad was usually unerring in the execution of his tricks. I watched as Dad paced around the small stage, scratching his head. Finally, he stopped pacing and ordered the lights brought up in the room. Suddenly, the space was awash in the brightness of the faux chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. You could make out the features on all the faces in the audience going back to the far wall.

My father’s face lit up and he shouted to a man sitting at a table four rows back from the stage.

“Sir, yes, you sir, in the houndstooth jacket. Could you reach under the table? I think you’ll find an envelope taped to the bottom. Please bring it up to the stage.” The man did just that, a perplexed look on his face.

“Your name, sir?” Dad asked as the man handed the envelope to him.

“Hyman Eisen—”

“No, please. Just your first name. Thank you, Hyman.” Father opened the envelope and handed a clutch of hundred-dollar bills to Hyman. “Please verify that those are real hundred-dollar U.S. bills. Legal tender, as it were. Count it, sir.” Hyman thumbed through the bills. “And?”

“500 dollars even.”

The audience applauded as Dad took my hand and we bowed in unison. Aaron stood behind us and applauded, a big smile forming as he winked at me. The house lights came down as we exited the stage to a nice ovation.

“You had me there for a minute, Dad,” I said as we sat between shows in the dressing room, picking at the veal scallopini the kitchen had sent over.

“Not to worry, kiddo. Aaron was spot on with his part. For a minute, he had me too. But I knew where I’d put the real envelope before the show started.”

“We’re getting $500 a night, Daddy?”

“No, kiddo. It’s for show, literally. If I put in the actual fees, the audience would know we were practically paid slave wages.”

“You’re exaggerating, Dad.”

“Slightly. Only slightly.”

There was a knock on the door. I opened it to reveal Elena and Jeremy standing there. Jeremy handed me a bouquet of yellow roses.

“The show was wonderful,” gushed Jeremy. “You were definitely the star of the show.”

“Yes, all the men could barely take their eyes off you, Lindsey,” Elena said with a smirk as she took a seat on the couch across from Dad. Jeremy remained standing, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

“That’s the point, Elena. The whole point. That’s why the magician’s assistants wear those costumes. They’re too busy getting an eyeful to see me doing my thing,” laughed Dad.

“On that line of thought, Jack, I think Lindsey’s wardrobe is woefully inadequate for a pretty girl like her. And I don’t mean her stage costume. I’m talking about some nice outfits for her time offstage.”

“I’ve got loads of t-shirts and jeans, Elena.”

“You need some dresses. Nice tops and fashionable slacks. Skirts! Your underwear must be a horror…”

“Maybe there’s some nice stuff in the Lodge shop that’ll fit you, Lindsey. We’ll check it out later this week, huh?”

“Jack, your daughter deserves better than that. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I take you to Manhattan tomorrow and we can do some clothes shopping. On me.”

“I couldn’t accept your money, Elena. I’m her father. I’ll give you the cash. How much do you think it’ll come to?”

“Jack, it’s my gift to Lindsey. I’m not short of disposable funds.” She took my hands in hers. “Be ready downstairs in the lobby at 9AM tomorrow. We’ll take the Amtrak down to the city. Have you ever shopped on Fifth Avenue?” Stunned, I shook my head.

“I’ll be coming along too, Lindsey. Someone has to carry all the bags,” Jeremy declared, smiling broadly at me.