Magic Mansion (42 page)

Beneath the table, Ricardo squeezed his hand. And the jib moved on to Kevin.

“Kevin Kazan,” Monty said, “you started out with what seemed to be some fairly standard card tricks, all the while relieving your audience of various personal belongings. Would you say you chose to put your best foot forward by sticking with a street routine you were familiar with?”

Kevin considered the question for such a long moment, John wondered if he was going to answer at all. But finally, he gathered his thoughts and said, “When I hit dat boardwalk, I wasn’t thinking ’bout tricks, or acts, or costumes, or none of that. I went out there living inside the skin of dis character I been creating all week, my original badass gangsta, and I done him proud. I can’t say I even remember which tricks I showed.”

John suspected Kevin’s explanation was more than just hollow words. The way Kevin handled the boardwalk crowd had been eerily riveting.

“With one hundred points to distribute for magicianship,” Monty said, “the scores in this category were incredibly close. But don’t take my word for it. Who better to reveal how you scored in this challenge…than Bev Austin, the Math Wizard!”

The curtain at the far end of the room rippled, and out from behind it stepped Bev. In a purple wizard costume. Covered in silver mathematical symbols. And a conical wizard’s hat. John did his best not to cringe. Ricardo shot up out of his seat clapping his hands, so John stood as well, so as not to leave Ricardo looking like the odd man out, and then Kevin and Jia grudgingly stood, too.
 

“Hi guys,” Bev said. She stepped up beside Monty and unrolled a rather silly-looking scroll she’d been carrying. “Are you ready to hear some numbers?”

The Final Four said they were, and sat back down to hear their scores.

“As Monty said, this category was the closest. With one hundred votes at stake, an average score would be twenty-five.” John tried to read Bev’s expression. Whereas Monty never gave any hint as to who had won or lost, Bev might not be quite so inscrutable. If Ricardo had won, would she be able to resist sharing a secret smile with him? Or what about Kevin? Would she be able to hide her disappointment? John couldn’t tell. She was focused on her scroll.
 

“One of you did receive exactly a quarter of the votes. Twenty-five points for magicianship go to…Profesor Topaz.”

John inclined his head. His heart was pounding. He supposed he should feel pleased about being found completely average among all the performers present, given their skill. But he’d be lying if he told himself he hadn’t been hoping to rank a cut above.

“Close on Professor Topaz’ heels, with a magicianship score of twenty-three: Ricardo the Magnificent.” Which meant
someone
scored higher. Bev gave Ricardo a quick, encouraging smile, though not a triumphant one. John’s heart sank. “And within a point of Ricardo, Jia Lee with a magicianship of twenty-four.” Which meant… “Kevin Kazan edges out the others in the magicianship category with twenty-eight points.”

“Well done, magicians,” Monty said. “So close.” Close? Hardly. Kevin was ahead of John by three. “What did the viewers have to say about the historical aspects of the boardwalk acts?”

Bev consulted her scroll. “The historical category contained the highest single score in any one category.”

“Fascinating. Would the recipient of that high score happen to be…Jia?”

“No, Monty. It isn’t. For the historical aspect of her act, Jia scored seventeen points.”

Seventeen?
John’s heart started pounding. If Jia had only received seventeen points, that meant the spread was much wider for this aspect of the performance. Ricardo’s fingers squeezed his, and hard, but he scarcely felt it. His own hand was numb.

“Too bad,” Monty said. “How did our 1950’s magician do?”

“Ricardo…” Bev’s voice lagged. She was nowhere near as smooth as Monty, “had the lowest score in the history category. Sixteen.”

John’s heart sank for Ricardo. Whoever the crowd chose would be ahead now by several—

“That leaves quite a few points in play,” Monty said, drumming up the drama that Bev didn’t seem to have the heart to. “Tell me, Math Wizard, what did people think of the Original Gangsta?”

“Kevin did very well, Monty. He received thirty-two points for his take on magic history.”

Thirty-two?
Thirty-two?
That was it, then. Why bother reading any farther? Kevin would no doubt take the whole—

“But the big scorer,” Bev said, smiling now, “was Professor Topaz, with a huge thirty-five points. Congratulations, John.”

“Thank you,” he heard himself say. “I have a great respect for the traditions of the craft.”

If thirty-five was the single highest score in the whole competition, did that mean the scores in the last category were closer to one another? If so, Jia and Ricardo would never catch up, even if they pulled a high score. However, if those final numbers were close…it would also mean John could potentially beat Kevin.

“Right now there’s only one point separating our top two competitors,” Monty said, as if he’d been privy to John’s very thoughts. “But there’s one more category to consider, and it’s anyone’s game. What do the remainder of the scores say to you, Math Wizard?”

“What’s interesting is that a majority of the viewers awarded points to multiple magicians. I see here, though, that there’s one magician who had the most unanimous votes. One magician who completely won over the audience members they connected with in all three categories.”

“Fascinating, Bev. Which Magician are you referring to?”

“That Magician is…Ricardo the Magnificent.” Bev looked up and met Ricardo’s eye with a look of such compassion, John wanted to gather Ricardo in his arms and hold him, because clearly, Bev’s expression conveyed that Ricardo hadn’t won. “Fourteen of your audience members voted for you in all three categories, Ricardo. The closest anyone else came to that was ten.”

Ricardo smiled as if he knew that being referred to first must mean he had not won the competition, and likely even come in last, but that still, he took heart in the fact that he had truly connected with those fourteen people. “That’s great. They were a great audience.”

“Ricardo,” Bev said, “Twenty-one people picked you as having the best performance, which means you have a total of sixty points.”

Ricardo nodded, not pleased with himself, of course, but not crushed. “Thank you.”

“Jia,” Bev said, “twenty-one people also selected you as the best performer.” Jia’s mouth worked. John had never seen her so gobsmacked. “That makes your total score sixty-two.”

Monty cut in and said, “Kevin, many audience members told the producers that watching you perform was like seeing David Blaine step out of a 1940 time machine.”

Kevin gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Gold Team would know better than me, Monty. They met him.”

Bev said, “They must have meant it as a compliment. Kevin, in the category of performance, you scored thirty points.”

Twenty-one, twenty-one, thirty, subtract it from one hundred, add it to the other score, whatever it was…where was a scoreboard when you needed one? Could someone just tell John whether he’d won or lost?

“It’s a close game, indeed,” Monty said. “Did Professor Topaz earn enough points to take this final challenge?”

Bev consulted her scroll. What did the expression of focused concentration on her face mean? John had no idea. “The professor scored very high in performance also, Monty. Twenty-eight points, for a total score of eighty-eight.”

All four final contestants sat scowling as they tried to recall the scores and add them up. But finally Bev took pity on them and said, “But our big winner for the Boardwalk Challenge, with ninety points, is Kevin Kazan.”

Kevin hissed, “Yesss,” as Jia clucked her tongue, and Ricardo gave John’s hand another squeeze, then released it and folded both his hands on the table in front of him. John turned to Kevin, offered a handshake, and said, “Congratulations.” Since he’d caught glimpses of Kevin’s act in the brief snatches of time in which he’d looked up from his own—when he’d managed to tear his eyes away from Ricardo in those skin-tight jeans, at least—Kazan had obviously made an impression on his audience. John could hardly begrudge him the win.

Kevin reached for John’s hand cautiously. He’d only won by two points, after all. And, of course, there was the whole treadmill incident from that morning between them—though if Kevin found two men fooling around intimidating, maybe he should reconsider living in Hollywo—

 
The handshake felt like a joybuzzer as John’s Truth pried between the plates of Kevin Kazan’s armor, and finally, really saw him.

True magic smoldered in him like a red-hot coal—a coal shielded under a layer of ash so thick as to render the ember inside invisible, at least until it was caught by the wind, and flared to life.

Kevin’s eyes widened slightly. Had Truth recognized Truth, or was he even cognizant of this thing inside him that came out when his magician “character” was living and breathing him? Hard to say, particularly in front of all the cameras, but before John could get a good look at it, Kevin’s expression shifted, and went sly. “Jus’ like I told you when I broke up the Red Team. I’m gonna win. Me. So let’s finish dis thing…Professor.”

Chapter 38

FINAL PREP

“Kevin Kazan wins,” Monty said, “by a slim two point margin…and this competition’s not over yet. There’s one ultimate event standing between our Final Four and the grand prize: the Sands of Time Challenge.
 

“The legendary escape artist Harry Houdini made history by getting out of a number of tight situations—including a straitjacket. Our Final Four contestants will begin this challenge just like good old Harry. And who better to strap you in…than the eliminated players?”

The curtain at the far end of the room fell (after some swearing by Iain and some ineffectual tugging that would be edited out later). Standing, poised and confident as if they’d been holding those poses the entire time the scores were being tallied, were four eliminated contestants.

“Kevin,” Monty said, “as the winner of the Boardwalk Challenge, you’ve got first choice. Who’s going to be the one to tighten those buckles on the straitjacket? Will it be Chip Challenge in his blue suede shoes?” Chip winked over the top of his sunglasses and pointed at the jib.
 

“Or Sue, the gift shop girl from Magicopolis?” Sue gave her honey-blonde hair a subtle toss and smiled for the camera.
 

“I’m sure nobody’s keen on being locked down by our escape artist extraordinaire, Ken Baron.” Ken, in a superhero-looking black lycra bodystocking, crossed his arms forbiddingly.
 

“But why bother, when you can trust yourself to the tender mercies of your old flame, Amazing Faye?” Faye blew Kevin a kiss.

They were people, just regular contestants, like John himself. And yet seeing them there, costumed and spotlighted, made his heart palpitate with anxiety. This was really happening. The moment Kevin announced his choice, the final challenge would be underway.

It made sense for Kevin to pick Faye. First, there was the trumped-up “romance” between them, which meant they at least knew how to negotiate with and tolerate one another. Aside from that, on a purely physical level, Faye was so thin it was unlikely she had the strength in her to pull the straitjacket straps particularly tight.

So why didn’t Kevin immediately pick her?

John turned and looked at Kevin, and found him assessing the eliminated contestants through narrowed eyes. Ah, yes. Of course. It would be totally unlike Kevin abandon his precious “strategy” so late in the game. John looked back at the eliminated players. They all smiled or glowered or winked as they’d been directed to—no doubt they’d all been paid a fee to make an appearance, and really, none of them likely cared which magician’s straps and buckles they ended up in charge of.

None of them but—

“It’s a tough choice,” Kevin blurted out sudden and loud, “and Miz Faye knows she’s my bootylicious baby gal, but imma have to go wit’ Sue.”

Of course.

Ricardo groaned and thunked his forehead into the table.

Monty said, “It’s safe to say you’ve got some strategy in play. Let’s hope your girlfriend can forgive you.”

Faye pretended to study her nails.

“Professor Topaz, you had the next highest score in the Boardwalk Challenge. Who will you pick to do the honors?”

John’s heart thrummed even harder. Three eliminated players to choose from: Chip, Faye and Ken. From what little John knew of Chip—and he hadn’t known his fellow Red Team member long—he didn’t seem like the type to go overboard on tightening one of his fellow magicians into a straitjacket. The Final Four’s acts held the least direct competition for his Elvis impersonator comedy show, and he hadn’t been around the Mansion long enough to build up any alliances or make any enemies among the rest of the talent.

Faye and Jia had some animosity between them, so it was possible that if John picked Chip, Jia would go with Ken to avoid getting Faye—and as far as John knew, Ricardo and Faye had always gotten along well. He glanced up at Ken Barron, and thought back to the incident in the garden, right before Ken’s trimmers caught him in the cheek. Ken had been lamenting the way the show was making him out to be a fool. In all likelihood, anyone he strapped into a straitjacket had zero chance of getting out again. Not on his watch.
 

But John didn’t think Jia knew that. He looked past Ricardo at Jia and tried to decide if she would be willing to be risk taking on the show’s only escape artist to avoid dealing with Faye—but her face was a stony mask.

And ultimately, John wasn’t willing to bet that Jia was too stubborn to put aside her differences with Faye to risk being trussed up so tightly she’d never get out again.

If John chose Faye, Jia would choose Chip, and Ricardo would be stuck with Ken. If John chose Chip, he had no idea what Jia would do…but the chance of Ricardo ending up with Ken was a risk John just wasn’t willing to take.

“Well, Professor,” Monty said, “what’s it going to be?”