Samantha's Journey into Real Magic Part 1

by Peter Rendell

Samantha’s bright blue-green eyes danced as she checked her appearance in the hallway mirror. Her pale face was framed by short blond hair styled in a bob cut. She reached inside the neck of her blouse and pulled out a medallion that was on a thin gold chain around her neck. She kissed the front of the medallion which showed a man carrying another across a river. This was rumoured to be St Christopher. Samantha turned the medallion over and kissed the reverse; this was her ritual before all her journeys. The reverse of the medallion contained an owl and a helmet; these were the symbols of the Greek goddess Athena. The medallion was given to Samantha by her priest when she was confirmed into the Roman Catholic faith. Someday, Samantha would seek out her priest to talk about it, but she feared the confessional.
The New Year of 2010 had found Samantha nervously preening in the hall mirror. She left her home in Littleton at 5am and took on the dense traffic of the M6 going south. After a 3 hour drive she arrived at K3 in Milton.
During lunch, Samantha met an American called Theodor Green; he preferred to be called Teddy. During their short chat, Samantha discovered they had both chosen the same bed and breakfast, known as ‘The Barn’, and agreed to meet up after they had settled in.
They were watching the TV in the coffee lounge when Merlin came in. Merlin offered them tickets to his show at the local nightclub, ‘the Star’, later that evening. Samantha declined saying she was too tired. Teddy accepted the tickets saying Samantha would be fine after a short nap. Teddy and Samantha arrived at the Star Nightclub at 10.30.
The nightclub was a professional theatre that had fallen on hard times. The seating area had been ripped out. The auditorium was a single floor space with bars along the edges. The main space was filled with students sat at tables arranged in a horseshoe. A central performance area was lit by spotlights. Samantha and Teddy were directed to a reserved table.
At 11pm, Merlin stepped into the spotlight. Large double doors at the back of the room were opened and a hospital ultrasound scanner and bed were wheeled in. Merlin introduced a very beautiful Latina lady as his assistant; her name was Angel.
With great flamboyance, Merlin changed a dove into a baby within Angel’s womb. Angel’s pregnancy was displayed by the medical scanner onto huge screens around the walls of the club. Merlin advanced the pregnancy to six months. To the amazement of all, Angel got off the scanner bed and walked freely amongst the audience. Angel allowed some shameful groping. At the end of the evening, Angel’s pregnancy was reversed and the dove released. Angel was no longer pregnant. The show was over.
The whole performance had bugged Samantha and disrupted her next working day. After an early evening meal, Samantha went to the lounge and was surprised to find Angel waiting for her. Samantha asked Angel how the trick was done.
“it was real magic; I was really pregnant!” Angel exclaimed as she presented Samantha with a ticket. “I can’t go tonight. Please volunteer.”
Samantha needed a couple of drinks before the show started. The act began when a male student stepped into the spotlight; a large fluorescent hoop floated into view above the male; a translucent curtain dropped from the ring and a backlight showed the male in silhouette. There was a great hush as the silhouette changed from male to female. The ring and curtain dropped to the floor revealing the burlesque figure of an excited young woman. Merlin called her ‘Fey’.
Merlin asked Samantha to verify that Fey was ‘all woman’. Samantha stepped forward to do a customs style body search.
“Come on don’t be shy” Fey goaded Samantha.
Samantha completed her task and went to the bar to bury her embarrassment in another pint. Her befuddled brain was trying to wrestle with the thoughts ‘this is impossible’, ‘how is this possible’ and ‘is this real magic’?

358 pages, Paperback

Published September 18, 2019

About the author

My formative years were spent in the City of Bath, Somerset in the United Kingdom. I spent many evenings at the roller-skating rink watching pop-groups such as 'the Small Faces', 'the Yardbirds', 'the Trogs' and many more. Those were the sixties, the days of the Mods and Rockers, where the Rockers did nasty things with motorcycle chains to the scooter-riding Mods. One Mod needed fifty stitches around his head, and these were my elders!?

I emerged from college in Middlesbrough, Yorkshire, as a computer programmer working for the local council. Living in a one-up-one-down bedsit on a modest budget, I would spend the weekends walking the town, window shopping. The highlight of the year was the biannual fair, where I became friendly with the roustabouts. I spent most of my evenings at the Paratrooper, a canted wheel with hanging chairs and parachute covers that looked like umbrellas. After a few days, I was inside the fence surrounding the ride; it was very flattering as I was a bit skinny for a roustabout.

Two girls were trying to get my attention; one had jet-black hair to the middle of her back; she was as shy as I am. It was a couple of days before I put my hands around her waist and thought 'I am not letting this one get away'. A 'Rose' by name and a rose by nature. Rose had connections to the fair that even she did not know about. No one charged us for a ride. We rode the Waltzers until I was sick.

The Waltzers were popular in British and Irish fairs. It had a central control cabin with just enough room for a control desk and a single person; windows on all sides gave a clear view of the action. The main floor of the ride rotates around the control cabin. The floor consisted of many segments, supported by limbs beneath that ran on rails. The rail system made the floor rise and fall in an undulating wave. A hump on one side of the ride kicked the floor into the air. A car was mounted on each section of the floor segment. The base of the car was circular; it had a hard leather seat and back running the full length of a semi-circle; it was surprisingly comfortable. A kidney-shaped chrome bar, attached to the front of the car, was pushed down in front of the riders. The car was attached to the floor of the ride by a pivot at the edge of the circle. The offset weight of the riders caused the car to spin. Roustabouts would ride the floor, adding spin to the cars with devilish glee. They took great pleasure in spinning our chair as fast as they could, watching me go green in the process and scream like a little girl.

Rose dragged me back for further punishment; the Waltzers was her favourite ride. When I tried to pay, it was always the same response 'No guv; this lady is Boss Morgan's great, great, great-granddaughter. No one will charge her for anything. Her family features are unmistakable. Treat her right because she comes from a long line of prize-fighters; hard men who fought with bare knuckles. You can assume that she has a vicious right hook.'

After twelve years in permanent employment, I lost my job through a disagreement with my boss; it was a point of principle. To leave your job, without another in place, is a rash decision when you have a wife and two children to look after. I apologised to Rose for my arrogance and promised to accept whatever came through the door, permanent employment, or a freelance contract.

I had loved my job in 'Systems Designers', one of the best software houses in the UK. They had sent me to British Telecom's Research Centre at Martlesham Heath near Ipswich. Travelling and expenses became the thorn of my existence; Manchester to Ipswich was a long trip, five hours at best. I began thinking about freelancing. The last negotiation with the boss about expenses was doomed to fail.

In June 1981, I entered the world of the computer contractor; my first contract was in Antwerp in Belgium. The early days in a new city