Just Like Magic, pt. 3 of 5


                          Marjorie left a more diminutive payment for the wild ride, and
              when the yellow car merged with the traffic, she likewise joined the
              flow of people on the sidewalk to obtain similar anonymity.  She felt
              less scared then but became only more confused, as the buildings
              were unfamiliar.  The area overall was generally a place in the city
              that could be dangerous to an unadapted single woman at the time,
              but she soon found out she was not alone.  There were many other
              ladies of the night in the same shoes, or with their "colorful" partners -
              chosen and free, and she was identified from her own saultry
              appearance and wrong reaction.

                          Two other policemen in a regular patrol car, who knew of her
              whereabouts from forwarded radioed information given by the previous
              officers, confirmed their suspect during a slow rear approach near the
              middle of the block.  She noticed a change in the behavior of the street-
              girls toward the squad car nearby, and like faint echoes from afar,
              became alarmed at hearing the words, "pigs, fuzz," and "the heat's
              here."  She slowly turned her head around more out of curiosity,
              while walking faster, but started running more because of fear of
              being caught after one of them loudly said, "That's the one.  Let's
              get her."

                          She wasted no time and effort in fleeing them after the car
              stopped.  One of the policemen went after her on foot, and the other
              expected to block her way of escape further ahead using the vehicle.
              However, both of them did not expect her to dart into a narrow alley
              before reaching the corner of the sidewalk.  She ran between clusters
              of people more swiftly than her inexperienced pursuer and even
              picked up a few fans along her path, including an exclamation from
              a skinny pimp.  Many gaps also closed in front of the unpopular officer
              purposely, to give her time to obtain an elusive advantage.

                          The alley seemed more like a dark corridor in that it had
              nothing whatsoever in it.  Only two doors on the sides of the adjacent
              old buildings on each side were faintly visible.  No lights.  They were
              brightly colored anyway, as if fresh painted, in sharp contrast to the
              ominous gray brick walls.  She stopped a bit and looked right and left
              but before making a choice, a sad looking man dressed in old fashioned
              soiled attire of a bum seemed to materialize directly out of a patch of
              pitch-darkness and step toward her.  "Who are you?  Where did you
              come from?" she said.

                          "No need to be afraid of me ma'am," his monotone voice
              droned.  "I'm here to stay because of a mistake I made long ago.
              You could get me free of this dark hostile place if you do as I say."

                          "Forget it.  That's your problem," she snapped back.  "I'm
              not that kind of woman."  

                          "How unfortunate.  Then, you will have a similar fate IF you
              enter that door.  It's locked."

                          She heard footsteps rapidly approaching from around the
              corners of the buildings behind her and tried the knob.  It clicked
              and opened.  "Oh well, buddy.  So, what do you know?"

                          "It is best that you do not enter.  The other one offers a
              much more favorable hideaway."

                          "Sure, and pigs lay eggs too," she said and moved onward.

                          After quietly closing the door behind her, she faintly heard
              the footsteps of the policemen outside and a cheering crowd, along
              with band instruments playing, further on.  With much caution, she
              took a dozen steps ahead in the musty, dimly illuminated hall and
              was taken by surprise when the doorknob behind her turned back
              and forth fast.  One of them was trying to get in, but it was jammed.
              Nevertheless, she grew more frightened and ran through two more
              short passages cluttered with dusty boxes, old carnival props, and
              storage crates.  Then, she ascended a small wooden stairs before
              resting, to let the adrenalin diffuse throughout her system.  All the
              while, the noise of the crowd and drums grew louder, and curiosity
              lured her on, to see what the noise was about.  

                          She moved along the back of a more brightly illuminated wall
              and behind a purple curtain next with care, like a thief that she was,
              and discovered herself to be on a vintage stage.  The audience and
              the main performer could not see her, but she was found by the
              assistants.  A middle-aged but pretty showgirl took her by surprise
              upon moving through the curtain beside the dark-blue wall, and she
              inhaled deep and fast, while bringing her hands to her face, and
              nearly screamed.

                          The woman stopped smiling and turned to her when the
              curtain closed and said, "Where did you come from, dear?  You look
              lost or . . . afraid."

                          "I . . . I came through a rear door.  A couple people were
              coming after me and -- "

                          "Oh, come now," she said in a quiet friendly voice, and made
              simple adjustments on her hair and revealing glittery attire.  "There.
              Our magician is finishing up on one of his favorite tricks.  He is good.
              Just ask Sandra coming now."

                          "I can see that.  She looked like she actually bloomed out of
              that big yellow flower there, and it looks and smells real.  Does he
              use holography and sprays, or something?"

                          "He'll never tell me, but maybe you can get involved directly in
              his next act and find out."

                          "Ohhh, I couldn't.  I'm . . .  not the type.  Stage fright, you
              know?"

                          "Oh, pooh!  Sandra is only about half your age, and look at
              her.  Anyway, I've got to help with more props and preparations.  So,
              think about it."

                          "Okay, but is that for real?  The flower's disappearing right
              into the wood at his feet, and . . . how did its petals close by itself?"

                          "Just like magic, isn't it?  It's not difficult for him to dazzle an
              audience.  He turned me into a mermaid in a glass tank shortly a few
              months ago, and I couldn't believe it when I could breathe and see
              clearly underwater."

                          "Now, I've seen and heard everything," she said, showing
              much skepticism.

                          The older woman smiled and patted her on the shoulder to
              emphasize reassurance.  Before departing for her further duties,
              she replied, "Well, experience it, Sweetie.  Here's your chance."

                          Marjorie shook her head negatively at first, but her pulse
              quickened fast when she heard footsteps in the corridor behind
              and below.  Then, they were masked by a loud round of applause.
              A fearful thought flashed in her mind, "Oh, no!  I'm being followed
              by the cops yet."


                                                    (Continued to Pt. 4)

                                                                                                        J.B./ NW