The Confabulist Read Online Free Page A

railroad tracks. When his brother Dash had first suggested a blind double date with a couple of girls from the Floral Sisters, a song and dance act, he was reluctant.
    He often told people that with Bess it was love at first sight, but that wasn’t true. He had seen her several times before he ever really noticed her. But the night of the arranged date, sitting at a table withhis brother, Dash’s date, and Bess, there was an instant when he looked at her and recognized that she was the mirror image of himself. Not the opposite but a perfect complement; her strengths addressed all his weaknesses, and he knew he did the same for her. And then, as unbelievably to him then as it remained now, Bess looked at him, and he could tell that she had seen the same thing he had. It was as close to a moment of real magic as he would ever experience.
    “Do you like our act?” Dash had asked.
    “Yes,” Bess said, “very much. I think you are destined for greatness.” She looked at Houdini as she said this, and her girlfriend giggled.
    A week later they were married.
    He felt bad about Dash sometimes. He’d picked Bess over his brother, but he didn’t really have a choice. It was the way he’d parted ways with Dash that troubled him—he had to concede he’d lost his temper.
    Their signature trick at the time was the Metamorphosis. It was a standard cabinet switch where members of the audience would be invited to inspect a large velvet bag that Houdini would then get into. Dash would tie up and lock the top of the bag, and Houdini would be placed in a trunk. The trunk was inside a large cabinet, closed on three sides with the fourth side open to the audience. Once the trunk was securely locked Dash would address the audience, draw a curtain across the open side of the cabinet, and step inside, and in an instant the curtain would reopen and Houdini would appear in Dash’s place. The trunk would then be unlocked and the velvet sack opened to reveal Dash.
    It was a good trick, and they often performed variations on it, sometimes with Dash starting in the bag. One night, playing to alarge crowd, they were doing the version where Dash went first. But Dash somehow managed to get stuck in the trunk, so when Houdini stepped into the cabinet he was alone.
    He couldn’t quite believe it. It was such a simple switch. You are out of the bag before the trunk is locked, and then out of the gimmicked back of the trunk before the curtain is even closed. Once the curtain closes the front man ducks behind the trunk and inside, wriggling into the sack while the reveal takes place. But there was no Dash.
    Until the day he died Houdini would hear the jeers of the audience. Even after he freed Dash and eventually did the switch, it was clear to all that something had gone wrong. A dime museum crowd loved seeing a magician screw up. Sometimes he thought that’s what people came for. To see the magician fail, to experience the thrill of seeing someone trapped just as thoroughly as they were.
    He was so angry afterward that he could barely even look at Dash.
    “I’m sorry,” Dash said. “The gimmick jammed.”
    “Well then, that’s fine, Dash. We’ll just explain that to everyone. Once they hear that the problem is you’re incompetent they’ll understand.” He looked at Dash, who was going to either start a fight or cry, then pushed him aside and stomped out. They were fired from the balance of the remaining shows, but he’d already decided to replace Dash with Bess. She was smaller, a woman, and more versatile, all of which made for a better show, plus she was his wife. He’d been foolish to wait this long to make the change.
    The stage was fully struck now. He’d best return to Bess. He hoped enough time had gone by. The duration of her anger was not somethinghe could divine. He clambered down the stairs and made his way to their dressing room. On the way he passed several other performers, but none met his eye. They all knew what had