Page 77 of Double or Nothing
Except for the chainsaw.
My illusions and stunts are nothing more than sleight-of-hand card tricks, except bigger and more bad ass. Now the woman I’m crazy about is terrified and crammed inside a small box.
What if she doesn’t forgive me? I don’t have a clue why she’s scared. Jade is the most fearless woman I’ve ever known. Her reaction to the box threw me off balance and I’m struggling to recover my momentum.
There’s no time to think about all of that now.
I have less than four minutes to cut the box into pieces with my chainsaw, disappear from the stage, and grab Jade. We’ll run underneath the stage to where a floating platform is waiting for us. Then we’ll reappear near the back of the theater behind the audience.
Timing is everything in this business.
I’ve done this illusion hundreds of times, but always with a willing participant. If I’m off for even a few seconds, the illusion will fail. Surprising Jade by pulling her up on stage was a bad idea.
Stepping closer to the box, I place the tip of the chainsaw at the edge. “Are you still in there?” I yell through the box to Jade.
“I’m here,” she yells back.
Maybe the insurance company was right, and my tricksaregoing too far. The thought of the chainsaw slipping with Jade in the box causes cold sweat to drip down my back.
I’ve never doubted myself before.
Taking a deep breath, I put light pressure on the box with the chainsaw and the wood splinters. That’s the signal for my crew underneath the stage to release the trapdoor, allowing Jade to fall safely onto a cushioned surface. I hear her scream in terror when the trap door unexpectedly opens, a sound that rips through me.
Fuck!
She might never get over this. If anyone else hears her, they’ll think it’s because she’s terrified of being cut in half.
“Clear,” my stagehand yells says into my hidden earpiece.
Thank God! Jade is out of the fucking box now, and nowhere near the gleaming, dangerous blade of the chainsaw.
Time to finish the trick.
I bear down hard with the chainsaw, causing the box to disintegrate into a cloud of sawdust. The crowd shrieks when I rapidly slice the box into several pieces to show that Jade can’t be curled up to hide in one end.
When using a volunteer, I can’t expect them to know how to tuck their ankles around their neck like an experienced contortionist to keep from being sawed in half. Instead, I create a diversion to cause the crowd to focus in one direction when something important is happening in the other.
To conceal the box, my assistants and I gathered around in a circle to spin it while the secret compartment in the floor was sliding open. Mirrors are carefully positioned around the stage to trick the audience’s eyes into seeing only what I want them to see, reflections playing a game with their perception.
I pick up the remaining larger pieces of the box and toss them to the two female assistants, showing the audience there’s nowhere for Jade to hide. The girls catch the fragments with well-rehearsed flair.
“Forget about calling my volunteer about a free room in Orlando,” I tell the crowd, injecting humor into my voice. “Sorry about that! My lovely volunteer has disappeared.”
I wave my hand, and a shower of gold confetti drops from the ceiling. Large industrial fans on both sides of the stage blow the confetti into a swirling tornado to conceal me as I drop onto the same cushioned surface where Jade fell.
She’s standing beside my stagehand, pale and trembling slightly. My God! What have I done to my fearless girl?
“Come on, we need to run now,” I tell her, grabbing her hand tightly in mine. “Hold on and don’t turn loose.”
She doesn’t argue this time and runs with me down the hallway to the hidden exit leading outside, her footsteps matching mine. My staff directs us through the dark alley to another side door, which opens at the rear of the theater.
I step onto a floating platform and pull her onto it with me. Members of my staff are standing in front of the platform, posing as audience members to block the view from other guests.
The platform rises in the dark.
“Hang on,” I tell Jade, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her tight against my side. “I don’t want you to fall off the edge. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you, sweetheart.”
My crew steps away as the platform rises above the theater. The confetti tornado on the main stage stops swirling to show the audience I’ve disappeared. Less than a minute has passed.
