I had heard the stories and rumors.

People said he was a Great Magician and could make things disappear before your very eyes.

I decided to see him in person to verify that the rumors were true.

People said, “Don’t worry about that. He makes facts and truth disappear too.”

How right they were.

I bought my ticket, more expensive than I expected or could easily afford, and joined the growing crowd.

Right away I could see there was already something missing.

The people around me had vacant eyes. It was as if they were missing more than anyone realized or wanted to admit.

Their insides had been disappeared. Their heart, their brain, their spine, gone, all gone. Even their gumption and scruples. Gone.

They were empty vessels.

A stir ran through the crowd. I saw it pass me by.

Then He came on stage.

A roar went up. A hollow sound, like an echo chamber, loud but unharmonious.

Then he spoke. And spoke. And spoke without stopping for breath at the expected pauses, his voice rising and falling, mostly falling, fading, lulling.

He asked the crowd, “Who wants to lose money?”

“Me! Me!” the crowd shouted, waving their empty hands frantically.

He chose one victim.

That one came on stage.

The Magician pulled a quarter from behind the victim’s ear. He put in in his own pocket.

The Magician said, “Give me a hundred dollar bill.”

The man pulled out a hundred dollar bill.

The Magician took it and walked off stage.

It was a disappearing act, and the show was over.

I tried to pull the wool from over my eyes.

I clutched my own wallet, surprised that it was empty.

I headed for the exit, ran home, locked the door, and turned off the television.