The One Time Assistant: Interlude Three
I open my eyes, the lights are blinding. I blink and smile- there is an audience in front of me. Beside me, he reaches out his hand. He is the Magician, and I dance with him, forgetting the audience. He twirls me, and I spin, into a box, my arms straight out to my sides, my legs spread. The sides of the box touch my arms and thighs; I can barely wiggle. My head comes out the top, and he adjusts my hair. Then I feel the cold steel of stocks on my wrists, neck, and ankles, as he closes them to hold me in place.
He brings a cover out, and places it over the box. I look down. On it is a drawing of my body, abstract, in paper. The Magician smiles at me, then peels the paper dress off the front of the cover. He turns to the audience, and opens the cover. I look down. My own dress has vanished, and I am exposed to the glare of the audience. I feel my cheeks warm, blushing. The Magician replaces the cover. I'm happy for that.
He pulls out scissors, and peels the paper from the cover over my right arm, uses them to cut it off at the shoulder. Inside the box, I feel a slicing pain at my own shoulder. He holds up a lighter, and the peeled off paper vanishes with a flash. The magician opens the cover again to expose me, and I look down. Where my right arm had been, there is nothing, just a stump at my shoulder. I will never feel my hand touch his again. He unlatches the empty part of the box, takes it off, folds it up, and replaces the cover. He in front of me, and cuts off my other paper arm. The result is the same- my other arm is gone. I will never hold him now.
He puts the cover back, and cuts the paper legs off the front. My thighs feel the cuts inside the box, and I know they are gone- I shall never dance again. He removes the two parts of the cabinet without removing the cover. A steel rod holds the part containing my torso. He spins it around, then opens both the front and back, spins it again. I wiggle as he tickles my stumps. I can't even remember how it felt to have limbs. He replaces the front cover, cuts a circle pattern out of the paper doll's chest. He removes the cover and steps behind me. I look down, see his hand reaching through the hole where my heart had been. He reaches up, through me, brushes his hand across my cheek. I nip gently at his fingertips, then he pulls his hand away, and I fear he'll never touch me again. My body aches for him.
He puts the cover back, and pulls the rest of the paper away. A flash, and I can't breathe. The covers are removed, the cabinet removed, and I am just a head on a table, high above the stage. He picks me up, holds me gently, and shows me to the audience. I smile; did I ever need a body? His hands are so warm against my cheeks. He puts me back on the table, then pulls out a new cover- one with my face in paper on the front. I'm scared. He places it in front of me. From the side, I see him reach up to the cover. I close my eyes.
Reality peels away.