Sian Pattenden - The Magical Peppers and the Great Vanishing Act

Matters had come to a head a week ago when a small man from the local council called Jeremy, dressed in a tan corduroy suit, with sweatbands round his wrists, appeared at the house and proceeded to read Uncle Potty an official warning.

“If you continue to cause disruption to your neighbours, you will be fined and most probably taken to court,” he said sternly. “We at the council take these things very seriously because you are causing severe cress to others,” he finished, and looked up from his clipboard.

“Cress?” asked Potty.

“Cress to others,” replied Jeremy, wiping his forehead with his left-hand sweatband.

“Do you mean stress?” asked Monty, peering round Potty’s elbow.

“Ahem, yes, stress to others,” finished Jeremy, now wiping his forehead with his right-hand sweatband. “This is your final warming. That is, you have been warmed.”

“Warmed?” asked Esmé, trying not to burst into laughter as Jeremy walked away.

Although they had chuckled about Jeremy and his warming after his departure, Esmé, Monty and Potty were deeply concerned. Potty was a creative type – he needed to be free in order to invent new, innovative tricks. If he was forced to keep the noise down, he might not be able to do his job; if he was taken to court, they might ban the magic shed altogether.

Fiddling with the seal, Potty took another few seconds breaking open the envelope. He breathed in slowly.

“It’s an invitation,” he said at last, with some relief. “‘Mr Henry J. Henry invites the Potty Magician to perform for Her Majesty the Queen at the Grand Royal Opening of Mr Henry’s MEGA-MILLION SUPER MUSEUM in one week’s time. RSVP in person by August the first at the latest.’ That’s the day after tomorrow,” Potty added.

“Wow,” said Monty.

“Is it real?” asked Esmé, taking the invitation and examining it.

“There’s a gold stamp on it,” said Monty, peering over her shoulder. “Of course it’s real.”

Potty was thrilled – he had made a name for himself after the triumphant show at the Sea Spray Theatre and had received regular bookings ever since. He had even appeared on television a handful of times, including a small slot on Abraca-Deborah – a magic show featuring Pat Daniels and his fragrant wife – performing a trick with a dessert spoon and a toothpick. But on reading this invitation, Potty was happier than he had ever been – he had never dreamed of being asked to entertain on such an important occasion. Every frond of hair leaped up from the top of his head as if his fingers had been stuck in the mains. “I will perform for Her actual Majesty, a royal personage, in real life! It’s a true honour.”

“In all totality,” added Monty, nodding.

Potty paused for a moment. “Henry J. Henry – I’m sure I remember that name from somewhere...” He scratched his head and some hair fell on to the floor.

“I think he was once a member of the International Magic Guys Club. I’m certain that he went by the name of Harry Starfeathers – although he was so clumsy with his props that we used to call him Harry Butterfingers. Well well, if he isn’t a high-flying museum curator these days, working closely with royalty.”

All problems with the council were, at this point, forgotten. All thought of the accident with the shed roof was put aside too. The Potty Magician was to perform in front of the Queen in a week! Monty started rehearsing what he called his Junior Royal Bow.

“Come along,” said Potty. “We must decide what trick to perform at the Grand Royal Opening.”

“What about one-handed tortoise juggling?” asked Monty. “I saw that on an American TV programme once.”

“No no – too messy,” replied Potty.

“I liked the trick you did where a playing card turns into flower petals,” said Esmé.

“Zamiel’s Rose?” answered Potty. “No, the Queen will have seen that one before – it’s been done many times.” He shifted on the grass. “This is not an easy task.”

“Uncle P, what have we just been doing?”

“Worrying about the high-explosive properties of lemonade,” said Potty, gazing up at the sky.

“Before that,” prompted Monty.

“Trying to make the shed disappear.”

“Exactly!” said Monty. “Why don’t you make something from the museum disappear?”

“Great idea! Maybe a statue or something like that,” suggested Esmé.

Potty stopped to think.

“Or should we be more ambitious?” mused the Potty Magician. “Anyone can make a statue disappear.”

“We could bring the shed?” suggested Monty.

Potty was having a brainwave. “The Queen has seen the greatest performers the world has ever known. She will expect something incredible, out of the realms of possibility – a simple shed might not do the trick. Her Royal Highness saw Timothy Cooper rip a tablecloth from a dining table, under the nose of a giant bear that was just sitting down to enjoy a substantial meal. The plates and cutlery remained exactly where they had been set; the bear was happy and the crowd went wild. Anyway, we need a true spectacle that breaks new ground on a global scale – but without any bears, for safety reasons.”

Monty thought for a moment. “Could we make the Queen disappear?”

“I think that may be against the law,” responded Esmé.

“One moment, Esmé and Monty,” said Potty. “Maybe we could make the museum disappear. What do you think? It’s going to be a tough one to pull off, but if Nigel Copperfield can make the Egyptian pyramids vanish for a few seconds, then I can certainly dispose of this so-called Mega-Million Super Museum.”

“Even though the museum is vast and heavy and real?” asked Esmé.

“Oh yes.”

Esmé truly hoped that Potty could make the museum disappear. He hadn’t done very well with the shed, but they had just over a week to rehearse the grand trick, so there was a chance it might actually work.

Potty looked closely at the invitation that he was still clutching in his hand.

“We need to RSVP in person the day after tomorrow. That gives us one whole day to sort out the nuts and bolts of our act.”

“It also means I can spend tomorrow at the library researching,” said Esmé happily. “The museum has been standing for decades. It’s only in the past few weeks that it’s been reinvented as the Mega-Million Super Museum. I might be able to find some details about the building and the floor plan so that you can work out your trick in advance, Potty.”

“Sounds splendid! We are set – nothing can go wrong with a little preparation! We will make the museum disappear.”

An excerpt from TRICK: Möbius Magic

You will need paper, Sellotape and scissors for this trick. Tell your audience you have made a loop out of paper to put round your wrist, but it won’t fit. “Stone me,” you’ll say, “I’ll just cut the loop bigger!” Your clever audience will laugh as they know you cannot make a loop bigger just by cutting it.

However , if you cut the loop in half up the middle, instead of into two loops, you will now have one larger loop.

The secret is that your original loop is actually a Möbius Strip – a mathematical marvel – made from a strip of paper that has been twisted once and then taped together {see fig. 1}.

Health and Safety is not something to be frowned upon. Please do not try to work with fire, big cats or swords. You are still a beginner and you can never be too careful – some ambitious tricks can cause an accident unless handled by an experienced professional. Construct your own props with Sellotape and scissors rather than hammer and nails. Cotton wool, also, is rather soft and forgiving. The great Pat Daniels always liked to construct his own props, but one day he managed to slice off his own pinky finger with a circular saw. Ouch!