Theater Magic

By Hailey Huntington

Times Square is a sensory overload waiting to happen—the heart of the city that never sleeps. Between the flashing boards, blaring traffic, and constantly moving people, it’s nearly impossible to find something in the mess.

Nearly being the keyword.

I leaned against the side of a building, slowly chewing a classic New York pastrami on rye. Nothing could compare to the smoked sandwich. A glance at my watch showed that Eleanor Lewis should come through any minute.

I’d been watching her for some time, ever since the critics started raving about her Broadway debut. The young actress sprang onto the scene, taking audiences by storm. Shows sold out months in advance.

Those facts by themself weren’t too unusual—but the fact that the show had been about to close before Eleanor took over the lead role was.

I scanned the crowd. Like clockwork, Ms. Lewis crossed Seventh Avenue, headed to Broadway on her daily commute. Shoving the last bit of sandwich in my mouth, I followed at a distance. Even in the ocean of people flooding every direction, I never lost track of her.

Like always, Eleanor walked at a quick pace, not sparing a glance at the shops and restaurants lining the street. She didn’t even slow down by the hot dog cart. I came to a full stop, taking a deep whiff of the sizzling sausages and sauerkraut. I was a hopeless case when it came to New York street food.

But the dog would have to wait until later. Right now, I had a job to do. With a wave to the owner, I tore myself away from the cart, Ms. Lewis still in my sights.

The theater was only a couple of blocks away. Eleanor was already inside when I walked up. Pausing outside a stage door, I slipped the bobby pin out of my pocket and stuck it into the lock.

What can I say, I love the classics. Some have adapted newer technology for lock picking, but I say, don’t fix it if it ain’t broke.

The people passing by didn’t spare me a glance. They never do. I can go unseen when I want to.

The lock clicked, and I slipped inside. The hallway was empty. Silently, I hurried toward the dressing rooms past the racks of costumes and prop tables that cluttered the hallway.

Voices filled the air. I pressed myself against the wall as two actors turned into the hallway, chatting about something unimportant. If it wasn’t about Eleanor, it didn’t concern me.

The actors walked by unaware. Once they were past, I hurried the rest of the way to the dressing rooms.

Cast name plaques adorned the various doors. My gaze snapped to Eleanor’s. I gripped the handle. Without knocking, I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

Eyes wide, Eleanor whirled around on her stool.

I held up a hand as she opened her mouth. “Please don’t scream.” Reaching a hand into my jacket, I pulled out my badge. “Peter James, MP officer.”

Voice faint, Eleanor repeated, “MP?”

“Magical Persons. Ms. Lewis, did you think that no one would notice the surge in your show’s popularity?” I took a step forward, careful not to spook the still-tense Eleanor. “Yes, the theater is a magical place. But light effects and fog machines can’t revive a dead show.”

Eleanor clenched her shaking hands in her lap. “I… I don’t understand what you mean.”

I took another step. “Something special is drawing them here.” Stopping in front of Eleanor, I looked down at her. “Ms. Lewis, only the magic of siren blood accounts for what’s been going on here. That type of singing will never not draw a crowd.”

Face pale, Eleanor licked her lips, fumbling for words.

I shook my head. “Please don’t deny it. I’m not here to hurt you—rather, I’m here to keep you from getting hurt. If I noticed you, then it won’t be long before certain… unscrupulous types come around. That’s where my agency comes in. They help people like us.”

Ms. Lewis’s brow crinkled. “Us?”

I winked, and promptly faded from her view, eliciting a gasp. I grinned to myself. Maybe I should have joined the stage too. It was a common profession for magicals. A second later, I reappeared. “You’re not the only magical person here. My invisibility comes from kobold blood.” No need to tell her about the drop of werewolf. She was jumpy enough already.

A minute passed. “All right,” Eleanor murmured. “How do I learn more?”

“We’ll start with a meeting and some paperwork, and then go from there. We have to keep your siren heritage under wraps from those who would abuse it. I mean, I’m sure you love singing and acting, but would you if you were being forced to?”

“No. But I’ll be able to stay on at the theater, right?” Momentary panic flashed across Eleanor’s face. “I… I may be a magical, but I’m not the only type of magic that’s here. There’s more magic in theater than just what the audience experiences.”

I smiled, memories of my own visits to the theater playing through my mind. “I think we can arrange something.”

Ms. Lewis shifted in her seat. “So, what do I do now? Does my understudy need to go on tonight?”

“That’s not necessary.” I glanced at my watch. “Right now, you get ready to put on a show that will knock your audience’s socks off. Then we’ll start taking care of things. After all, the show must go on,” I said, handing her a business card and turning toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Eleanor’s voice raised in alarm.

“I’m getting a hotdog.” A grin slid across my face. “And after that, I’ll enjoy the magic of theater. I keep hearing rave reviews about a certain show,” I added with a wink.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hailey Huntington loves adventures, and she’s always ready for another one—whether it’s discovering Narnia, traveling across Middle Earth, hiking a mountain in Iceland, or simply going on a walk with her family. Aside from adventures, Hailey also loves board games, music, ice cream, laughter, witty characters, fantasy, emojis, and Jesus—though not in that order.

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