I had an amateur magic set when I was little. In it were all the usual gags- the wand, the scarf, the latex thumb- and after learning new tricks, I would lace up my black cape (the one with gold stars and crescent moons) and put on shows. With Mason as my assistant we would dazzle the audience, usually Mom, Dad, or Grandma with our sleight of hand and uncanny ability to make things disappear.
We were stealthy ones. Even long after the show my accomplice and I had the miraculous ability to make certain foods seemingly vanish into thin air. Namely it was apricots, plums and Fruit Roll-ups that one by one (or two by two rather) didn’t stand a chance against our sorcery. Back then the kitchen floor was still carpeted, enabling my sticky little fifth-grade feet to slink over to the counter with astonishing inconspicuousness; i.e. “Hocus Pocus.” Also I had mastered the art of not banging my feet against the bottom cupboard whenever I sprung onto the counter to access the goods; i.e. “Presto.” Covering our shiny wrappers and fruit pits in the trash with a napkin was part of the charade; i.e. “Now you see them, now you don’t.” Not covering them would’ve alerted Mom to our chain fruit-eating shenanigans which normally occurred during episodes of Arthur and the like. Disappearing fruit and roll-ups could have been part of the magic act. Since they left the house as quickly as they had arrived.
Normally I’m a pretty conservative fruit buyer but I’m a damn good magician when it comes to making apricots disappear. So tonight I bought 38 and trust me when I say, “They’ll vanish before rotting.” Abracadabra we’re down to
36, 35, 34….