Magic in the Moonlight Page #4

float with no apparent support.

"Apparent,"

I think, is the key word.

Is it "Pepperidge," or

"Talmudge," or "Taplinger?"

Anyway, it was a wonderful,

wonderful, super trick.

I mean, I grabbed the candle and found

absolutely nothing supporting it.

That's because

there's nothing to find.

My daughter is not some

commercial music hall attraction.

She doesn't do tricks.

She is an adept.

I hope I didn't disappoint

you at your first sance.

Oh, I found it

nothing short of perfection.

Well done, madam.

I can't even remember the last

time I've seen Mother so happy.

Will you join us?

We're all going to hear

some really hot music.

Hot music?

Come on, Sophie, come on.

Yeah, we...

I thought you said "All this

mental work was exhausting?"

Oh, it is,

but I love hot music.

Wife. Well, I hope you're

not plagued tonight

by the dream of

the sinister Chinese.

You know, I figured out

who you represented.

Really? Yes.

When I was much younger,

years ago,

I went and saw Wei Ling Soo.

Have you heard of him?

He's a Caucasian who disguised

himself as a Chinese,

and he billed himself as

the Great Oriental Wizard.

I see, and did you

enjoy his performance?

I did, very much.

He was brilliant.

He, um, he vanished

a live elephant.

And it was just...

I mean, it just was

completely shocking,

but of course,

it was mechanical tricks

that one could learn

with enough practice.

I see. And, your performance?

Oh, I wouldn't call

it a performance.

Well, call it what you will.

I mean,

it's a type of trickery,

like card magic or

vanishing an elephant.

And I say

you're Mr. Wei Ling Soo.

And I say there is nothing you

can do that I cannot duplicate.

Oh, I don't doubt it.

You're great.

But just because you can

duplicate my miracles,

in no way proves

that mine are not real.

It was quite a display.

I must say,

she impresses me.

And you saw

no signs of trickery?

Not yet.

Well, let's face it, Stanley,

you came to unmask her,

and she's unmasked you.

On the one side, yes, she's pulling

off these bewildering feats,

and on the other

remains the simple fact

that what she's claiming to do,

while exquisitely executed,

is simply not possible.

But who's to say

what's possible?

I'm a physician, and new

facts come to light,

new discoveries are

made all the time.

Things we never

dreamed possible.

To cure someone of blindness

by having her lie on a couch

and talk about her childhood.

I mean,

who'd have thought?

Yeah, but don't you see it challenges

our whole concept of reality?

I mean, if there's

an unseen world,

an afterlife, souls to contact,

mind reading,

foretelling the future...

Yes, it changes everything we've

held to be scientifically accurate.

It's true.

If what she claims

was possible,

everything would

surely take on new meaning.

And yes, very hopeful meaning.

To think, if there

were more to life...

More what?

That life

doesn't end with death?

That the universe

works by design?

That God exists.

All right,

let's not get carried away.

The woman is a charlatan.

Because, depressing as the

facts of existence are,

they are the facts.

There is no metaphysical world.

What you see out there

is what you get.

I think Mr. Nietzsche has disposed of

the God matter rather convincingly.

Good morning. wife.

May I? wife-hmm.

Did you sleep well,

Mr. Taplinger?

Or should I just call you

by your Chinese name?

You are a very clever

little humbug, Miss Baker.

What are you doing today?

I'm going

bird-watching with Brice.

Do you want to join us?

I can't think of

a more inane activity,

watching little

winged creatures

acting out nature's

pointless busywork.

Why don't you join me instead?

Where?

I'm driving to Provence

to visit my Aunt Vanessa.

She's a remarkable woman.

We could have lunch. Chat?

Actually, get to know

one another better.

You think you'll trick me into

showing you how I deceive people.

Come on.

I'm sure Brice Catledge

can live

without drooling all over

you for a few hours.

I think I'd like to visit Provence.

I've never been there.

Tell me, doesn't it ever

trouble your conscience

to fool that poor,

empty-headed Mrs. Catledge

into believing she's communicating

with her departed spouse?

I could just as easily ask you,

doesn't it ever bother you

to creep around,

dashing people's

dreams and hopes?

Not if their hopes are false.

Even if their hopes are false,

if it helps them

get through life?

Then you admit you're a fraud?

I wonder if you get your

cynicism from your grandfather,

the merchant seaman

with the missing finger.

The missing toe.

Why are you staring at me?

Where are you from?

Kalamazoo.

It's in Michigan.

And, you're from London.

I see a white

house in Belgravia.

Fourteen... No, 16.

Wilton Crescent.

A piano.

Yes, that's all correct

and rather amazing.

But I don't buy it.

'Cause I'm a rational man

who believes in

a rational world.

Any other way, lies madness.

You'd be happier

if I was a fraud,

because then,

your whole fixed worldview

wouldn't be shaken up.

No, it's quite the opposite.

If you knew how much I don't

want you to be a fake...

Oh, but think how embarrassing

it would be for you.

Your whole life, you spent publicly

crusading against spiritualism,

and then, you'd have to come out

with it and say that you were wrong.

But I'm not wrong.

Is that why Jenny dropped you?

How could you know about Jenny?

I see long, blonde hair.

A wonderful laugh.

Yes, she had a lovely laugh.

But who wants

a pessimistic bore

who hides in his room all day

and practices card tricks?

No, I'll tell you

who wants a man

who locks himself in his

room and practices all day,

who's a committed artist.

Olivia, my fiance.

Wife!

Yes.

Olivia. Hmm.

I see a match made in heaven.

How can you eat so much?

We just finished lunch.

I told you I like to eat a lot.

George's psychoanalyst says

it's because I need love,

but to me, I'm just hungry.

Oh, I mean,

a lot of people need love,

but they don't

eat their way to it.

You want some? No, thank you.

This is so beautiful.

It's transient.

Oh, Stanley, how nice

of you to drop by.

And you, I take it,

must be Olivia.

Olivia? No, no.

Olivia is a brunette.

And she's a bit taller than

me, and she's in London,

anxious to get

on with her trip,

so, she can get to

work on her book.

I'm Sophie.

Oh, you must be the American

the Catledges

say is so amazing.

Sophie fancies herself a

telepathic, among other things,

so, be careful what you

think, Aunt Vanessa.

We all know the evil

workings of your mind.

Stanley doesn't

believe in spiritualists.

He thinks

you're all scoundrels.

If so, you're a very

pretty little scoundrel.

If you see all and know all,

where's my aunt just been?

Somewhere for her health.

I see baths.

Is it sciatica or rheumatism?

It's sciatica, and that

is quite remarkable.

How can you know that I've just

come back from a spa in Italy?

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