(by Edward Zeusgany and Alex Anders, © copyright 1999, all rights reserved)

Kevin stayed in bed late on Saturday mornings. There was nothing to get up for. The last two hours, he had been dozing off and on, the sun bright in his light yellow room. Intermittently he played with himself as twelve year olds do. Shortly after ten o’clock, now fully awake and further sleep impossible, he got up and dressed.

The rooms downstairs were empty of other life. From the kitchen window he could see his mother working on the rock gardens in the steep and terraced back yard. He could hear some power tool being used by his father in the basement. They were ignoring him as usual. Kevin was sure that he was adopted, although they had never told him so directly.

He was, of course, perfectly capable of getting himself a bowl of cereal, cutting up a banana, pouring orange juice and milk into glasses, but he didn’t. He wasn’t hungry yet. Custom could not override laziness. Instead, Kevin ambled out the front door to enjoy the fine spring morning by taking a leisurely walk to the center of town.

Once there, he found a spot on the least crowded bench in front of the town hall and watched the comings and goings on the busy street and sidewalk. His fellow sitters were smoking or drinking take away coffee. One fat man had two large cinnamon swirls that looked soft and tasty and made his mouth water There weren’t any cinnamon swirls at home. A woman sat with a baby carriage in front of her and a toddler at her side. A few people were obscured by their newspapers.

The street was full of delivery trucks. One was stopped directly across from him and a man with a dolly was wheeling cases of beer into the little ally at the side of a restaurant. A little old man slowed his pace, then paused and stooped to pick up a coin from the sidewalk. He seemed quite pleased with himself. An approaching stroller held a infant wearing sunglasses that gave him the appearance of an Eastern potentate or chubby rock star. The child smiled at something, enhancing the effect.

A quarter hour later, Kevin observed a tall young man dressed in black and walking with purpose. More accurately, what he first noticed was an attractive, young, golden retriever. The dog was attached to one of those leashes on a spring retracting coil that allows the animal to roam as much as thirty feet from its master. However, the retriever trotted close by the side of the handsome young man with wavy hair so black it made his complexion seem pale in comparison.

Perhaps in answer to Kevin’s silent wish, the dog deviated from its path, came to the boy, placed its front paws on the bench next to where Kevin was sitting and raised up for a quick pat on the head. The man, neither looking nor breaking stride, said something the lad did not catch. The retriever quickly resumed its place and the pair continued, moving away and in tandem. Then Kevin saw that the dog had left a blue plastic ball at his side.

He thought that he should call out, but hesitated. The young man was in a hurry and would not appreciate being summoned back. It would be better to run after them and return the ball. Kevin considered this option as the pair proceeded some distance away. He would explain his delay in returning the man’s property by saying that he just now noticed that the dog had left it. The boy resisted approaching the young man, he didn’t know why. He wasn’t afraid exactly. The man seemed somehow remote, someone who shouldn’t be disturbed.

When Kevin looked again the man and dog were no longer in sight. They could have turned up any of a number of streets or passages. It was too late. Perhaps the retriever had wanted him to have the ball. A gift from a kindred spirit, a token to an admirer, and so on. Kevin put the plastic ball, its size a little smaller than those used in tennis, in his pocket. It was wet but only slightly slimy.

*****

The golden retriever’s blue ball remained in Kevin’s pocket all day. Its slight pressure against his thigh reminded the boy, now and then, of its existence. At bed time he set it on his night table where he could see its bright color under his lamp. Reconstructing the event of the orb’s presentation, the lad decided that he should have gone after the man to give it back. But he hadn’t and that was that. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind.

A few minutes later, Kevin turned on his side so that he could look again at the plastic ball. He reached out a hand, picked it up and brought it close to his face. It was dry now. Being hard plastic, there were no tooth marks, unless the few, slight scratches were caused by teeth rather than some other sharp edge against which it may have rolled or been dropped. He wondered if the dog missed his ball or whether, having others, was as unconcerned as dogs often seemed to be.

When he gave the ball a little shake, it rattled. Kevin hadn’t noticed that before. This made him curious, so he examined the object more closely, looking for a separation, a thin dark line, that would indicate where the two halves came together. It took a while but he eventually found an almost imperceptible demarcation. Placing his hands where he had determined the two halves to be, one on each half and leaving the line of separation clear, he gently twisted the ball to see if it would come apart easily. It didn’t, so he put it back on the night stand.

Still, he thought, there is something inside the plastic ball and the two halves were clear enough. It must come apart. Thinking that the dog’s spit may have functioned as a glue, Kevin took the sphere into the bathroom and ran some hot water on it. Back in bed he tried again to open what he was sure was a container. On the third try, giving the two parts a sharp twist, the blue ball popped open and an object fell onto the bedspread.

Kevin saw at once that it was a figurine, also in plastic, of a man in a black suit and carrying a satchel. He thought that it probably was supposed to be a doctor. The black bag was of the size and shape that doctors used to carry in olden days. He recognized it from images in the ancient, black and white movies and photographs that his parents favored. Picking up the figure, he did not think of it as a doll, he yielded to an instinct to rub it between his thumb and finger.

At once it dissolved into a clear blue light. Startled, Kevin recoiled with his whole body, in the process letting go of the thing. The light proceeded to move away from him and to expand. As it did so, it lost much of its brightness and changed shape, becoming elongated. The boy watched, frightened and fascinated, the light transform itself into a dark and solid object. It was the tall young man from that morning, without his dog, but carrying a small bag.

“I believe you have some property of mine,” the stranger contended.

“Oh! Yeah!” Kevin hastened to admit. He snatched up the two parts of the plastic ball and forced them back together.

The man placed the bag he was carrying onto the floor and looked at it approvingly. Then he snapped his fingers and the small satchel increased substantially in size.

Kevin held out the blue ball. “Here,” he said. He briefly thought about hollering for his parents, but he didn’t want them to know that he had taken something that didn’t belong to him and he didn’t want them to see the man in his room. How would he explain it?

“Get up,” the fellow ordered.

Frightened, the boy got out of bed, still holding the dog’s toy. The man opened the bag that had a lock in the middle and clasps at either end. The inside was lined with blue satin.

“Get in and lie down,” the young man commanded.

Kevin did as he was told and the fellow closed the bag. The lad heard the clicks of the fastenings being secured. The now oversized valise was padded, and not uncomfortable. Its resemblance to a coffin did not occur to the youngster. If it had, he would have been even more afraid than he already was. He heard another snap of fingers and wondered if the satchel had been shrunk, himself along with it. Then Kevin felt the bag being lifted, followed by a period of gentle, intermittent rocking, unlike that produced by walking at a steady pace.

For a while his mind was filled with a jumble of thoughts. One by one, they gave way to the boredom of silence and darkness. Kevin was sure that something would happen eventually. He waited. The season of quiet swaying dragged on and on. Eventually, in spite of everything, the boy fell asleep.

*****

Kevin woke and knew that in his sleep he had felt, but not heard, a bump. The top of the valise was open and the face of the young man, faintly illuminated, was hovering over. He might have deduced from scale that he was still the same size and that the person looking at him must be kneeling at the side of the container in its larger manifestation. Further evidence of this was provided by the dimensions of the hands that now descended toward him, large but not overly so.

“Let’s have a look at what we have here,” the man commented as though to himself. Long fingers undid the buttons on Kevin’s pajama top. The unfastened cotton cloth was spread apart. One hand and then the other was slowly retracted.

“Sit up,” the tall fellow instructed. The boy complied. Immediately he felt the stranger’s finger tips on his skin as the cotton garment was removed from his shoulders and slid down his arms. Each wrist was then freed.

Kevin turned his head and looked the young man straight in the face. “I need to pee,” he asserted.

The man’s face revealed nothing of his reaction, indeed, if his expression ever varied it was so slight a change as to be easily overlooked. Perhaps the pause that followed the boy’s statement was more of an indicator. In any case, the fellow snapped his fingers and a light appeared ten feet in front of Kevin. It illuminated a doorway and came from a white tiled bathroom.

Presuming that the putting on of the light granted permission to go; the boy rose, stepped out of the valise and hastened to the entrance. It was a cramped but modern bathroom. A tub and shower were located to the left of the entrance. To the right there was a hamper and a scale. Beyond and to the left, a sink and in the far right corner, the toilet and another object, unfamiliar to Kevin, a bidet. The only odd thing was the lack of a door, that the boy would have closed had one been there.

Kevin took a position at the side of the toilet, so that, if the man should look in, he would not be able to see his ‘weenie.’ He did need to urinate, but was so nervous that it was difficult to begin. Once started, it took a long time to finish. His bladder must have been really full, although he had not noticed due to a combination of sleep and uneasiness.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom he was greeted by the golden retriever, who pushed his dog nose into the boy’s crotch. Kevin giggled self consciously and gently but firmly pushed the animal’s head away. Looking to his right he saw the young man sitting behind a large desk under a pool of light and reading from a particularly large book. The man took no notice of the youngster, which both relieved and annoyed the lad.

He thought to give the dog back his ball, but the valise was gone. The place where it had been was empty, except for the thick rug that, as far as Kevin could see, covered the entire room. Because of the dark, he was unable to make out its dimensions. He could tell from the numerous shapes he took to be large pieces of furniture, haphazardly arranged, that it must be a large space. It felt like being in a long abandoned and poorly organized showroom.

The boy returned to the spot where the valise had been and sat down on the carpet. The retriever continued to nuzzle him and throw in an occasional lick. While petting the dog, Kevin noted that the man maintained his concentration on the open volume in front of him. The animal quieted, sitting and finally lying down at the lad’s side. Tiredness overtook both, they slept.

*****

Each time that Kevin woke, nothing had changed. The young man was motionless at his desk, absorbed in reading. The dog was at his side, nestled against him. A slight illumination barely kept the room from being pitch dark. The boy could see that the bathroom, beyond the doorless entrance, was brightly lit. He might have noticed, and thought peculiar, that the light did not penetrate into the room, the opening creating an illuminated rectangle. But he did not. The illumination was held in the lavatory by some unknown force or, perhaps, the two locations were not really adjacent even though he could pass directly from one to the other.

Eventually the time arrived that the lad was wide awake and further sleep was impossible, no matter how much he would have preferred to remain unconscious. This, the young man noticed.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

The boy hadn’t been aware of it until the question was posed. “Yes,” he acknowledged.

The fellow picked up the receiver of a telephone that Kevin hadn’t previously noticed on the surface of the large desk. After striking a few numbered buttons, the man spoke some words the youth did not comprehend and that sounded strange. A few minutes later, a bell rang out from some remote region of the surrounding blackness. The young man left his corner and walked toward the noise. Kevin remained where he was, curious but hesitant.

When the man returned, he was carrying a tray that he proceeded to place on the desk at the place where he, himself, had been sitting. “Your breakfast is here,” he announced in a matter of fact way.

Kevin understood that he was being summoned. He approached timidly and slowly settled himself into the fellow’s chair. In front of him there was a clear plastic container of orange juice, a basket holding a small baguette that Kevin wasn’t sure was bread until he tentatively bit off the hard end.

“People usually break off pieces with their hands,” the man interjected.

Beside the juice and bread, there were individually wrapped pats of butter, small portions of jelly in white plastic, a knife and a small pot of something hot along with a cup and saucer. This turned out to be chocolate. The man left and the boy ate everything, even picking up the larger crumbs with a wet fingertip. Then, looking about and behind him, saw that the area of the desk seemed to be curtained off from the rest of the room. That is, it looked like there were black drapes hanging to his right and to the rear.

He remained in place for a while, then got up and went back to where he had been sleeping. The boy wanted some activity, but was disinclined to go off exploring the limits of the darkened space about him. Some time, but little energy, was used in a trip to the toilet. A tooth brush, in its unopened packaging, had been left on the spotless sink. He assumed that this utensil was for him. It was comforting to involve himself in such a familiar activity.

Returning to the darkened room, he stood, he sat, he walked in small circles, then back and forth. Time passed slowly, too slowly. When the tall, young man finally returned, Kevin risked asking, “What’s your name?”

“Peter Likova,” he said, “call me Peter.”

“Is it still night out?” the boy inquired.

“No. It must be after 10 o’clock.”

“It’s so dark still. Aren’t there any windows?”

Peter raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately a window lit up in the far wall just to the left of the corner where the desk was positioned. Kevin could see that the sun was shining even before he hurried forward and leaned against the sill. There, outside, was the clear blue of the ocean and a beach, just across a boulevard and a wide cement walkway. He could see that every hundred yards or so there was a break in the iron railings that he supposed provided access to stairs that led to the sand below. There were a few people strolling above and only a scattering of sunbathers lying on towels.

Reading the boy’s mind, Peter said, “Would you like to go to the beach?”

“Yeah,” Kevin enthused, thoughts of escape leaping into awareness.

“If you open one of the bureau drawers, you’ll find everything you’ll need.”

The youngster wondered which drawer of which bureau might contain beach ware. However, rather than ask, he just opened the first one he came to. Inside there was a large white towel, a skimpy blue bathing suit, and a pair of sandals. He changed in the bathroom as quickly as he could.

Upon emerging he found Peter, still in black attire, carrying a folding chair, a beach umbrella, and a canvas bag. Together, they wound their way through a maze of bulky sideboards, breakfronts, and other large case pieces. At length they came to an elevator door. Peter pushed a button on the wall and the door opened at once. There were a lot of buttons on the control panel inside, Kevin noted.

They descended many floors to a large, sparsely filled lobby. Exiting through a revolving door, they reached the busy street that Kevin had seen from the window. Of the bits of conversation that he heard in passing, the youngster did nor recognize a single word. At a walk light they crossed half way to the divider, where they had to wait for a second signal to stop the traffic moving east.

Once on the beach, Peter set up his umbrella and chair about half way between the water and the high sea wall. At intervals, closer to the wall, there were chairs and tables in clumps and what looked like restaurants built into the wall itself. Establishing some independence, Kevin spread his towel much closer to the gently breaking surf. From there he went directly to the water, which he found warm and slightly silky on his fingers.

The youngster alternated between short swims, playing at the water’s edge and resting on his towel. There were relatively few people and no other kids. He couldn’t talk to them in any case. He didn’t even know what language it was that they spoke. Peter, as usual, was reading something and paying no attention whatever to him.

Quite some time later, however, the boy noticed an older gentleman, who had paused in his walk along the beach and seemed to be observing him. Kevin was about to go back to the water when the man approached and said something.

Kevin gave a puzzled look. “What?” he queried.

The gentleman, after a moments pause, continued in accented English. “Is someone looking after you?”

Discomforted by this, Kevin, with a gesture, indicated the young man in black with his nose in a book. Now what, he thought, as the gray haired fellow made his way over to where Peter was sitting in his shade. After a minute, the older man resumed his slow progress through the sand. Then Peter called to the boy to him.

“We’d better go,” Peter said. “It looks like you may have had too much sun.”

Kevin took a look at himself. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he was a little pink. What he didn’t realize was that what appeared as a slight tint under the bright Mediterranean sun would soon turn into flaming red. At this point, he also became aware that he felt slightly nauseous and had the beginnings of a headache. So it was without complaint that he picked up his towel and followed Peter back to their lodgings.

By the time they returned to that dark and peculiar place the youngster felt much worse. The walk back and, specially, waiting in the heat for the signals to change, allowing them to cross the boulevard, had made him dizzy.

“I don’t feel so good,” he said.

“You don’t look so good, either,” Peter concluded. “I’ll run some cool water in the tub. We’d better try to lower your temperature.”

Reclining in the tub did help somewhat. Peter brought him a glass of tepid water, heavily salted. “Baron Fenstemarker recommended that you sip this slowly.”

“Who?” Kevin asked.

“The man on the beach,” Peter explained.

“Oh,” the boy said, sampling. “It does taste good.”

“You’ve had enough when it stops tasting good to you.”

Later, Kevin went to sleep on a plastic covered pad that Peter had laid out. The blackness of the big room was comforting now. He didn’t sleep long, waking in pain. The boy was feverish and hot from sunburn. Peter was already there.

“I have some lotion that will take the soreness away. Shall I put some on you?”

“OK,” the youngster murmured, pitifully.

Kevin felt immediate relief from his discomfort, the evaporation of the liquid helping to cool him. The massage was soothing, too, that and the simple fact of someone caring for him.

“This will also keep you from peeling,” Peter commented. “Not that you care about that right now. Turn over.”

The lad carefully rolled onto his stomach and relaxed as Peter gently applied the soothing remedy. He was asleep again before the man was finished.

*****

Whenever Kevin awoke Peter was soon attending to him. At some point he realized that his bathing suit was gone, but he didn’t care. He noticed, too, that Peter applied the lotion to places that didn’t need it, but he didn’t care about that either. Sometimes the young man sat him up and held him while he drank some cool fruit juice. Other times, Peter would carry the boy into the bathroom and sit him on the toilet, carrying him back when he was done..

Kevin had little idea of how long he was ill. In that darkened place there was nothing to give a clue as to time. But at last he woke and knew two things; one, that the dog was stretched out beside him and, two, that he felt well again. Looking around he saw Peter at his desk, perhaps reading a different book, but the lad wasn’t sure about that.

He got up and went over to where Peter was sitting. Kevin placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Thank you for taking care of me while I was sick,” he said. Peter’s smile of appreciation was the first expression the youngster had seen on that previously impassive face, though, from that time on, expressions were a little more frequent.

Peter lightly stroked boy’s back with a hand that came to rest on his backside. “It’s all right for me to be a little familiar, isn’t it?” he suggested.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Kevin acknowledged.

If there had been a full length mirror available, the boy might have noticed several differences in his appearance. His skin now displayed a rich brown tan, while his hair was three shades lighter, lighter even than the dog’s coat. Two days of not eating had removed the last of his baby fat. His blue eyes had an unmistakable gleam to them.

“Baron Fenstemarker has invited us out to dinner tonight,” Peter announced.

“I have nothing to wear,” the youngster said with a straight face. “Anyway, when’s tonight? What time is it?”

Peter snapped his fingers and the window lit up. “About noon, I’d say,” he said.

Kevin went over to the window and leaned against the sill. The scene was entirely different. They were in the midst of a city. To the right there was a traffic circle with a huge marble arch in the middle, far away and to the right was what looked like a giant oil derrick. Then, some impulse made him try to touch the wall to the left of the window. There wasn’t any wall. The boy proceeded to walk through where a wall should have been. Now that he knew that the room did not end where he thought it did, he could make out shapes of other “windows” and “doors” that were, perhaps, hung by wires from the ceiling. He passed completely around the “window” he had just been “looking out of.” Peter took no notice of the boy’s discovery.

“If you open one of the drawers of one of the bureaus, you will find clothes for the evening,” Peter instructed. “But, you need a haircut first and I think your fingernails and toenails need trimming.”

“Is that where we are?” Kevin asked pointing to the scene on the flat TV or whatever it was.

“More or less,” Peter assured him.

“How do you do that?” the boy wanted to know.

“I don’t, you do,” the young man asserted.

“You’re the one who snaps his fingers,” Kevin reasoned.

“Only because it’s what you have directed. You make everything the way it is.”

“Uh huh,” the youngster said, meaning the opposite.

“You’re just not consciously aware of everything that your mind is doing. If you were it would be too confusing.”

“OK, Peter,” the boy said, dismissively.

*****

The doing of his nails was a lot more elaborate than Kevin had expected. He thought that the haircut looked good, though, when he had the opportunity to see it in the bathroom mirror. Then he went in search of his evening outfit.

Feeling mischievous, he chose to open a random drawer from a sideboard located well into the furniture jungle. Inside the drawer he found silk pants and a shirt the color of old ivory, a matching pair of slippers and blue underpants, the same shade as the dog’s ball, the bathing suit and his own eyes. Then he opened some other drawers, but they were all empty.

Kevin thought that the clothes were the wrong size. The sleeves, with elastic at the openings, didn’t reach to his wrists and the pants did not reach to his ankles. Peter showed him how the elastic should be pushed up to just below the knee on the pants and just below the elbow on the sleeves. The extra material bloused down to mid calf and mid forearm, which was the way it was supposed to be worn, the young man said. The suit was tailored close to his body at the midsection, not quite clinging, but suggesting a narrow waist and trim behind.

A car was being sent for them at eight, so a few minutes before, they entered the elevator for the trip down. The lobby seemed larger and more elegant than Kevin had remembered and there was a doorman who ushered them out to a limousine that was waiting for them. At the restaurant there was another doorman, and an awning and carpet from the curb to the entrance.

Baron Fenstemarker was waiting for them at a table at the far end of the restaurant. Several heads turned at their entrance, more would have except for practiced restraint. The Baron rose and drew out a chair for the youngster.

“You look like you just finished a performance at the ballet,” he told Kevin in obvious admiration. He and Peter then began an extended conversation about that art, in which both were extremely interested. Their enthusiasm for the music, costumes, settings, performers and of course the dance itself was evident and contagious. The youngster had seen a little of ballet on TV. His parents were always watching something educational.

Kevin liked the food, although he found he couldn’t eat much. Luckily, Peter anticipated this and recommended light fare, which he and the Baron had to order for him anyway because the lad couldn’t read the menu. He did recognize that it was French, though, and supposed that was the language he had been hearing.

Just before the dessert course, the Baron asked him if he would like to spend a few days at his country house. He had there many works about the ballet; books and video tape. “Peter tells me that you will be in Zurich this next week. My estate is just outside the city.”

Kevin looked at Peter for direction, who didn’t give any. Assuming that meant it was up to him, he said, with a note of pleasure, “Sure.” Baron Fenstemarker thought: an American boy, natural, unrefined.

*****

When they got back to their room, Kevin decided that he wanted a pillow for the night. Instead of asking Peter he just opened the nearest drawer, expecting it to be as empty as it had been before they left. There he found a nice, plump pillow in the usual color.

A few days later they were in Switzerland, although the boy was unaware of having traveled. Kevin had been spending his time looking through the cupboards and drawers. There he had found all sorts of unusual boxes containing curious objects, old and new. When asked, Peter could explain their nature and give their provenience. Apparently all that reading was good for something.

One morning, the boy found a packed suitcase next to a large sideboard and figured that it must be time to leave for Baron Fenstemarker’s. A different car and driver took them out to the countryside. Looking out of the window of the Jaguar sedan, Kevin realized that he had been missing the fresh air and sunshine. So, once they had arrived, he spent most of the day wandering the grounds by himself. Here and there, surrounded by the natural terrain, there were gardens of various sizes and types. It was a delight to come upon them unexpectedly.

It was not until afternoon tea that the Baron began showing the lad his collection of ballet material. He and Kevin sat together on the sofa, while the Baron found full page photographs of the most famous dancers. Occasionally, the man would touch the youngster, on the arm or elsewhere, to draw his attention to some detail or to emphasize a point.

After dinner, the three of them watched, on video tape, various ballet companies execute pieces from classical to modern. They began with ensemble performances and ended with solos. The two men chatted knowledgeably between themselves. Kevin was enthralled, perhaps as much by the others’ obvious delight as by theatricality and grandeur.

During the excellent meal, the Baron had mentioned that it was the custom in the country to retire early. Now, when that time had arrived, he asked Kevin if he might visit him in his room. The boy looked to see how Peter had received this proposal. They had been given separate bedrooms. It would be the first time they had been apart for quite a while. The gesture he received in answer suggested that Peter was indifferent to the matter.

“Perhaps you will do me the honor of showing me your tan line,” the Baron said with an impish smile.

Kevin blushed. “OK.”

*****

The boy knew that the Baron would want something more than to look at his tan line. Touching, he thought. Kissing was all right as long as it didn’t go on for too long. Peter never gave him more than a peck. Maybe the man would want to get into bed with him. His first reaction to that thought was negative, but gradually became more positive as he continued to ponder the possibility.

Kevin liked the Baron, who had been unfailingly kind and considerate to him. It might be nice to be held though the night by someone he cared for and who cared for him Considering what to wear to bed, he compromised, deciding that the cotton pajamas bottoms, in Kevin blue, would be enough. Then he relaxed and let the various possibilities pass through his mind.

*****

The youngster woke with a start. He was lying on his side facing the night table. The bedside lamp was still on. Under it, the dog’s blue plastic ball reflected the light. Then he heard the sound of the TV coming from below, his folks were still up. He picked up the golden retriever's toy and looked at it closely. He quickly found the thin line that separated the two halves. Giving the ball a shake he heard the expected rattle.

Kevin got up and went down stairs. His mother and father were watching something about Pompeii

“Can’t you sleep, son?” his father asked.

The boy replied, “I’ve been thinking that I’d like to take ballet lessons.”

His parents exchanged a glance then looked at him. Almost in unison, and with only a tinge of regret, they quietly said, “That’s a good idea, son.”

*****

It was through hard work and discipline, nothing whatever to do with magic, that six years later Kevin had his debut in Washington, D.C. After the performance, he was visited back stage by two strangers, whom he recognized at once. The tall young man became his personal assistant. The older gentleman became his patron. The three of them were very happy together.

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