After that party I remember staying up each night, trying to retrace the steps that had been taken up to the big reveal, the prestige as they called it. I don’t remember anyone near me except for other friends at the party, and I didn’t think they were good enough actors to be able to take the time to slip a random card into my pocket and then keep a straight face about it every time I asked them about it afterward. I don’t think any of the parents, or my parents were in on it. And if they were, when did they slip me the card? Way earlier in the day, and I just went through all the motions having no idea?
It gnawed at me for weeks, before I finally got an opportunity to get some information on it. See, in the eighties, it wasn’t unheard of for there to still be magic shops, and fortunately there was one downtown. I remember my mom mentioning that she needed to go grocery shopping, and so I begged her to take me with her and that I wanted to stop at the magic store. I don’t think she understood the level of importance it had to me, or simply thought it was just another random request, so she fortunately agreed, under the stipulation that I would have no more than fifteen minutes in the story. I quickly agreed and dove into my piggy bank to take out all of the birthday money I had stuffed in there for reasons just like this one.
When we made it to the store, I was in amazement. Trick packages, boxes of props, everything was lining walls, in aisles, and it was essentially all mine. There wasn’t another soul in the place with the exception of my mom and the shop keeper who looked like he was asleep through most of our visit. I went up and down every aisle, picking up items, reading them, and putting them back. My mom would periodically call out how much time I had left before we had to go, and my searching became ever more frantic. I couldn’t find the trick that the magician had pulled on me. Five minutes remained, then three, then one, and I was in a panic. I had in my hand a book that had a coin in a little plastic container crafted into the front cover, it said 101 Coin Tricks to Amaze.
With it being the only thing in my hand, I walked to the front and paid for it. Little did I know that this random and last second purchase would kick off a passion and set the rest of my life in order, it was just a book, just a coin, but it became so much more. And even now as I have that coin resting on the table beside my keyboard, it lingers as a lasting reminder of the birthplace of my future.