Now You See It... Part 10

"She's said so," Max acknowledged.

"Said so?" Harry frowned. "You don't believe her?"

Max did not reply. Stubbing out his cigar on an ashtray, he reached down beside himself on me chair and picked up a red billiard ball; I hadn't noticed it mere. (Well, my obser- vation powers weren't perfect, you know, as you will see.)

Tossing the ball into his left hand, he dropped it back into his right.

"Max, you know she's on your side," said Harry.

Max did not respond. Again, he tossed the ball into his left hand, letting it drop to his right once more.

A third time, he made me tossing motion, but me ball now disappeared. (Palmed in his right, of course, the ele- mentary Throw Vanish.)

"Max, she wants the best for you," Harry told him.

His features hardened as Max continued playing with the billiard ball, causing it to Reproduce, then Reproduce again,

48 Richard Matheson

his face intent as he performed "Twirls" with his thumb and forefinger to prove that what was actually a sh.e.l.l was another solid billiard ball.

An attempted "Acquitment" (transfer of the ball from right to left hand) to create another "Vanish" failed/ and the billiard ball fell to his lap. Angrily, he picked it up again.

"Max, come on," said Harry, trying to sound patient-in vain.

Max said nothing but began again, the billiard ball becoming two/ then three. He waved his right hand up and down, the ball between his first and middle fingers' 'hinged back" into the sh.e.l.l. Now you've got it. Sonny boy, I thought.

At which/ he dropped the ball again. It bounced off his lap to hit the carpeting and roll away. Max slumped back and closed his eyes. "Tada," he muttered, a forlorn fanfare to his faltering hands- (I felt his despair; only another magi- cian could truly say that.)

"Let it go, pal," Harry told him, revealing unmistakably with those words mat he could not possibly understand.

"We have Vegas to discuss." He was unable to conceal the edge of irritation in his voice.

Max opened his eyes. "Yes," he agreed. "We have Vegas to discuss."

Rising from his chair. Harry retrieved me fallen billiard ball and set it on me table. Then, reseating himself, he opened his attache case and removed two copies of a contract, handing one to Max, who put on his gla.s.ses to read it.

Noticing the lenses. Harry asked, "A little thick, aren't they?"

"One step removed from a Seeing Eye dog," Max an- swered.

Harry did not attempt to conceal his grimace. "Can't you get contacts or something?"

Now You See H... 49

"Hadn't thought about it," Max replied.

"Well, think about it," Harry said. "I have another client who had bad eyesight, cataracts. Implants gave him back his vision better wan it ever was." Another grimace. "How long has this been going on?"

"Some little time now."

Harry whistled softly. "That's no good. Max. Have you seen a doctor?" Since he already knew me answer to that, I presumed he wanted to hear Max's version of the situation.

"What for?" Max responded. " know what the diagnosis . would be. 'You're going blind, Mr. Delacorte.' Who needs to hear it?"

"Blind, Max?" Harry stared at him, appalled; but not half as much as I was. When had all this started?

"Well, not quite," Max said. "It's coming, though."

Harry swallowed, looking at his client, not his friend, I know. As it turned out, he was doubtless wondering if his visit and intended conversation were pointless now.

He drew in a straining breath Aen, Oh, well, he thought (my guess). May as well go on with it. If it turns out to be pointless, let it happen when I'm somewhere else-1 think I read his mind correctly. One-dimensional at best, con- nected directly to his facial muscles.

"Okay," he said. "Let's move on."

Max cupped a hand behind his left ear. "Pardon?"

Harry stared at him, expression pained. (It looked pained, anyway.) "Your hearing, too?" he asked.

Max didn't answer.

"Have you tried a hearing aid?" asked Harry.

Max shook his head.

"Have you considered trying a hearing aid?" Harry per- sisted.

"I've considered everything," Max said. "Including sui- ** dde."

50 Richard Mattiexon

Oh, Sonny, no! my mind cried out. I would have wept if tears could flow.

Harry had twitched at Max's words. "Hey. Max," he said.

"I don't want to hear you talk like that." (He didn't want to hear it!)

Max said nothing, looking at the contract.

Harry swallowed, took a sip of Diet c.o.ke, paused, then went on. "About the act itself," he said- Back to business;

that was Harry.

Max directed a warning look at him.

"Max, it's got to be discussed," said Harry. "You're playing a game with yourself by ignoring it."

Max started to speak but, sensing a power position, Harry cut him off. "Look," he said, "you're a performer in the grand tradition." He knew about grand tradition? What a shock. "You always have been. No one's ever going to take mat from you. You made magic into an art form."

"My father made it into an art form," Max corrected him.