Chapter 29 - Art and Science III
In our state, marijuana is now in that limbo some others are. Caught between legal and illegal. Out of all the drugs? Pot stands out as simply different. Special. Unique. I guess, its really the me of drugs. She has what we call the pot card. I think its like 200 bucks a year, you get an ID card. Then, you're allowed to go to the dispensary. Buy it in any form. The gummy candies, are something else. Hits you slow, hits you harder, lasts longer.
Seems like 20 bucks worth of special candy is expensive, but is it really. For the cost of a decidedly pedestrian meal out, say for instance a truck stop? You can spend that much and stay at home. And get 8 hours of the warm relaxing feeling. It lingers on afterwards, into a slight calm the next day.
She has one. She uses it some. For the edibles, or some of the concentrated stuff. Sometimes she gets the regular stuff, but god is it overpriced. What you do is, you go and buy yourself say a quarter ounce of the good stuff. Normal buds like you buy in a baggie, but in that special jar.
There's always something on sale. What they had too much of, and there's dates for going stale. When we get regular, we find something we want on sale, and stock up. The only thing the dispensary has? Specialties. Edibles, concentrates. Or, that you know what you're getting.
Then, she likes and I do too. Ground flowers. Its buds already ground up. You can roll perfect joints, or a pinch for a pipe. Cherry Diesel is my favorite. If its on sale, and its over 15 percent? Always my pick. I chuckle in the parking lot outside the place. I just check stuff of on her phone. Adding my order to hers. Now, anything with the word diesel? Yeah. Lemon Diesel, Sour Diesel. A quarter ounce of ground flowers. On sale, and discounts for taking a whole ounce of the same kind.
I sometimes splurge, and get four quarter ounces on sale, of something inordinately potent, in ground flowers. 15 percent and up, is where interesting begins. 20 percent and up? Quite interesting. 25 percent and up, is... wow.
Last time, I got an ounce of ground Cherry Diesel, and an ounce of some hybrid that came in at 29 percent. I like to mix a gram of each together equally. Taste and potency galore.
When we got back, she had a bottle of cheap champagne. A couple percent, some beer is more potent. She ended up watching a DVD. I got to hear it, but not see it. I was kneeling on hard corn, servicing her as best I could. She fed me champagne, with hers, while I tended to her.
I know this game, I know her game now. What couple doesn't have the girl kneeling, servicing him. And it reverses another time, he kneels and services her, back. Ours is the same, she just goes first. Seems different and backwards? But, in the end. The same two things got done. Out of order, who cares.
We're breaking the rules. Or obeying our own rules. If we want to reverse step 4 for step 5, who cares. All the steps are covered. After champagne? A joint. I left the Cherry Diesel out of it. I went for a big, perfect, cigarette of that 29 percent stuff.
Under the spell she was casting, her own magic.
And there's that word again. Magic. It somehow went along with art. I was all science growing up. I mainly am, still. She notices it. I lean towards facts and figures. Not feelings. But I had been introduced to art. Forcibly, but still. A hot spot on one side of my brain, my math and science side? Had my art side, picking up slack. Wiring in. It had stayed, too.
Now, magic is popping off like popcorn as a word bouncing around, and art is coming up with it, popping for attention with it.
After her movie, and corn kneeling and our out of order private and perfect personal system, she went for more. Her hot little mean speech. How I was going to offer myself to her. She was going to take me, and keep me. She finished with the empty champagne bottle. What she had started with her finger, she now authoritatively finished with it. And I know what she's doing, too. Like a serial killer, moving towards what he really wants to do? A little more, each crime. More like that perfect fantasy he has in his head.
Here though, she's moving a little more each time? Towards what for her will be... the perfect rape. She's the rapist now. She has power. She's in control. Its a fantasy, she's pretending. But making it real. A part of it here, a part of it there. She's moving towards being able to enact as much of it out as she can. Bringing her willing victim along for the ride. Her rape? She had hated it. Now, this was her rape, too. She was making me like it. He had made her pretend she liked it. Made her climax and showed her proof she had liked it, and wanted more. She was doing it to me, but actually making me like it.
She substituted where she had to. Punching and kicking? Was replaced with pinching and tickling. Her knees ripped up from being pounded on her hands and knees from behind? The corn kneeling. She was creating the perfect rape. One that would as accurately as possible, reflect her own. But perfect now. The victim was willing, and really did like it, enjoy it. Need it and want it. Asked and finally begged for it. And she didn't have to feel guilt, for doing it. For taking, for making.
And she told me all about it, while performing it, too. She was an artist, creating the perfect piece of performance art. And like any art? It meant what it meant to outsiders. She knew what it really meant, what it really did. What it really released.
As always? When done, the ever sweet afterglow care. Then, the laying in a collapsed heap. The talking. She sprawled over me in her bed.
"What you thinking about."
"You know how you say a word, and it sounds funny? You say it a few times, it sounds funnier."
"What word."
"Magic."
"Mm. When those little... when it happens? Just for a little bit, I feel it. Its, like floating, or flying. Like its supposed to be. Its happening. Its coming."
"Glad I could give it to you."
"Hmm. Actually, I gave it to you. A couple times. But, I know what you mean. And thanks."
"You're welcome."
She rearranged herself, snuggling in.
"So. What's with magic. It trigger a little... replay? A good one, I hope."
"Yeah."
"Spill it."
"When I was little. Some magician. Had a special on TV. It... was an old one. My dad wanted to watch it. When he was young? That, had been his big magician name."
"Yeah. About every generation? Has their own... big magic guy. Who was that one. Your dad's. Now yours."
"Whitestone. Harold Whitestone. I'd never heard of him, of course. My mom and dad both were excited to see that rerun."
"What did he do."
"Not being rude, but... magic."
I got pinched.
"You're gonna mind those manners, when you're with the person that's in charge. No shit, it was magic. Like I thought the famous magician? Was going to do a cooking show. So, try it again. What did he do."
"I'm used to... the big act. Everything? Is a big... song and dance number. A couple big things, that make the show. This? Was different. Lots of constant littler ones. Like, the big acts, I knew? Were a couple big explosions. This was more like... a string of penny firecrackers."
"Like?"
"Card tricks. Jokes and funny stores, while he's doing all these card tricks. And, he shows you how he does the one trick, then he does it again? Everyone laughs when he did something even more amazing, and it was obvious he was showing you how much better he was, than some others."
"All, cards and jokes."
"Just that part. Then? The hand magic. All up close. My big magician? He's up there. You're down in the audience. This guy? Is right down at audience level. Bringing the audience in close. You can see up his sleeves, and he pushes them up. He lets people go in his pockets. Its, more amazing. And? His signature. He always shows you how some trick is done, but then he does it over again... and shows how much better he is, than other ones just doing the usual."
"Like what."
"You know the... dots on the big playing card?"
"Yeah."
"He did it a while. And its good, really good. Then, he showed. He's really good at putting fingers or parts of his hands, over a dot or dots. To make that one card? Be the other dice numbers. There's a five and six, and he does his fingers and hands over parts, to make the other numbers."
"But then..."
"Oh yeah. He goes... see? That's the magic the other guys do. And its good, don't get me wrong. But? That's not real magic. Its just sleight of hand."
"And his big finish?"
"Aw, man. He goes... so. My magic? Its real. Because if its just sleight of hand, how else could I possibly? Do this... and he flips that card over? Holy shit. And everyone went nuts. I mean, the audience? They're just right up on him, around him. So close. You go back, and watch the recording my dad made of it? He doesn't switch cards. His sleeves are up, audience is on him, he has people with their hands in his pockets. Just... wow."
"Big finish."
"Then another one. He flips that card back over? It got worse again! Then he went back again? More. He's just smiling. He's taunting the other magicians of his day. He's saying, come at me, bro. He's throwing the gauntlet down. But gently."
"They make it look easy."
"Yeah. I liked his ball tricks. There's a ball in his fingers, then you're right up close, and... its two, then three? These balls are... just appearing and disappearing. Right in front of your eyes. No camera tricks. The audience? All intimate and close. They can't believe it. And, you're right there. The camera? Has you, right in the front, best seat in the house."
"Did he do his... signature? On the balls."
"Yeah. Two hands. Balls appearing and disappearing. Its... hypnotizing, almost. To watch both hands, moving. Audience picking out numbers, and his hands making them. Then? Pick two numbers, his hands flash and makes both numbers. They say 23? Two and three balls in each hand. He didn't show how its done, this one, but... every other magician that does this? They go.. one... two... three... then back to two, back to one. Maybe all gone. But, they have to go one number at a time, up or down. He? Could go from one to three, or three to one. Then both hands, and... doing the numbers the audience shouts out. And he's smiling. Says... no one but me? Does that. I'm still waiting, for them to catch up. When they'll make it, from sleight of hand, and into real magic, like me? Well, I hope them all the best."
"Cocky."
"No. The... big magicians, I knew? They had that. And its part of the show, too. To be that big wizard up there, doing the impossible. My dad had to explain. This guy? When young, had been one of the foremost famous magicians. Then? They go out of fashion. Those... big magicians, took over. You started getting the early Vegas tiger magicians, those guys. The big one on the TV specials, always disappearing bigger and bigger things. He was, a has been. Then? He made his big comeback."
"He did big stuff too, now."
"Not really. Now, all big magicians. They have to do some up close hand magic. Kind of compulsory. He was explaining. That? Just the same old, same old. Lets see them try this, though... and boom. Another, holy shit demonstration. But, soft. Quiet. Smiling, laid back. No... Svengali faces and poses. Just, some kind older man, sitting there, doing amazing things."
"Keep going. I feel wonderful."
"He would do the... appearing, disappearing. In his hands. And it was really good. Then he showed how that was done. Look, I'm really good at this. Turns his other hand around. He's holding it."
"Big finish, though. He signed it."
"Yep. But, I do real magic. Look. And he suddenly has it appearing and disappearing? Right, in, his, hand. No other hand, can be taking it. Putting it back. Sleeves up, right in people's faces. With audience members? All around him. It was..."
She finished it for me.
"Real magic."
"Yeah. He... made it real, somehow. He did... smoke from the fingertips. He said they all do that one. And, would you like to know how that's done? Easy. He showed. A little piece of tape, matched his flesh color, perfect. He touched it, and rubbed his fingers together hard... friction, heat... then the smoke goes."
"Signature?"
"So. How do I do this, then. And? He lights his cigarette, from fire instead of smoke. You people? You're wonderful. You deserve so much better, than just the same old tricks. You deserve? Real magic. And, he's telling little jokes. The airlines? Just hate me. I have to drive from show to show now. They let you have your cigarette pack, but they take your lighter. They hate me, I light everyone's cigarettes."
I got my musical laughter I treasure so much.
"And this just goes on. For a solid hour. Very few commercials, guy was something else. He took his poke at... my big magician, I knew. From my time."
"What."
"When he said, some magicians? Just do the same trick, over and over again, and you keep acting amazed? He was appearing and disappearing stuff. He... made a face? Imitating... you just knew it was that guy. The audience laughed, they got his little jibe. That guy? Is just doing the same trick, the appear and disappear, over and over again. With different stuff. He said, you deserve better."
"Did he... one up him?"
"Sort of. He had a stool brought out, to sit next to him. He did, the disappearing animal in the cage trick. But, right there in front of you. With a little mouse. The puff of smoke, the mouse is gone in the cage. A wave of his little curtain, its back. They applauded, its being done... right there, right up close, in front of their eyes. He said. That? Is the same trick. A little mouse? A giant elephant. No different. But you're wonderful, I love you? Demand better. Demand more, than just the same, old, trick. Over and over."
"Signature?"
"I do real magic. Lets see them all? Do this... and his sleeves are up, audience, hands in his pockets, on his sides, behind him. He claps his hands suddenly? A mouse. He claps them again? Its gone. Then? He clapped them harder, and... a mouse in each hand. Audience? Went nuts clapping. He said? That's nothing... he looked like he squeezed both mice in fists? Opened them, and... two white birds flew up and sway. Audience went spastic."
"That was his big ending?"
"More or less. But, he did some more stuff up close, like he started. Then? He's talking about, he like this so much, its why he came back. He has an inner glow. Then? He has something in him, he says. He needs help. He's acting like he's coughing. He got a guy to... you know... Heimlich him. Another one, would they help clear his throat, if this guy can get it up? He'd appreciate it. The guy's doing Heimlich on him, then... something in his teeth. Guy in front, pulls at it. He pulls out, a light bulb. A big, full size regular one. out of his mouth, after letting them help him, with a doctor's Popsicle stick and a little penlight. Then? The light bulb lights up, in the audience member's hand."
"Wow."
"Then? His time was up, he had to go. He's standing there, audience members all around him. On that stool he sat on. Puff of smoke? He's gone."
"He was just... retired, career over... and wanted his comeback."
I nodded yes.
"He got it, too. You know? I started watching other magicians. That did the hand tricks, he showed. He was right. They all do the same stuff. But, I never saw anyone do the things he pointed out, his was better."
"You fell in love. With magic."
"Aw. How could I not. My, uh... my dad. He was somewhere, stopped at a flea market. he found, one of those... magic kits. Big box, tricks in it. It was still in the plastic on the box. Present for me."
"Aw. Kids magic kit."
"Not just any magic kit. It was the official... Harold Whitestone magic act kit."
She giggled.
"Merchandising. Gotta love it."
"Yeah. His big comeback? I guess it came with... stores selling his kit."
"Aw. What tricks did you..."
"You know what? The trick itself, is pretty basic. It takes forever, to prefect it. And I didn't have the coordination for a lot of the stuff."
"What did you do."
"Hmm. The light bulb in your hand? Lights up? I had what looked like a real light bulb, but... it was plastic. The base, unscrewed. Batteries."
"Oh. You could light the bulb in your hand."
"Yeah. I have a little metal ring, on my ring finger. It touches just right? The battery lights the little flashlight bulb inside. Then? I can give it to the person watching. They can't do it."
"Cute."
"You get, little plastic handheld versions. of the big stage prop. Same thing, though. You know the ball in the vase? You open and close the vase, the ball is appearing and disappearing?"
"Yeah."
"The lid and vase, is all... steps. The ball? Isn't a ball. Its a half ball. I open and close the lid? Really basic. What sells it? Is your face, your postures and gestures. I think we all know. The coin is in my hand, when I pull it from behind your ear."
"Of course."
"That's the basic idea, of a lot of tricks. The trick is already done, long before you start watching carefully. Or they have you watching the wrong hand. The little plastic tricks, were fine. But the book? Was the real magic. But the coolest thing?"
"What."
"This, was from 20 years back. I was the only kid had seen this. The few tricks I kept, seemed new."
"What was your... best one."
"You take a coin, out of your pocket. You put your mark on it, with a felt tip marker. So, you know its your coin. I do the one trick I know, then I pull it from behind your ear. Then? It goes behind my back. Just for a second, and... out comes this little box. Its got four gum bands on it, two both ways. You open those, another box. Four more gum bands. Then? A third set. Finally, you get to this little pouch. You open it? That's... your coin. Your mark. And there ain't no way, I had time to do all that behind my back. In one second flat."
"Aw. Your big trick, your big finish."
"Pathetic by comparison, but yeah."
"How, is it---"
"Like I said. Trick? Done long before you start thinking and watching. There's this little... think a metal straw? Stepped on, flat. It goes in the one corner, and the pouch bag is around it. I just drop the coin into it. Like, dropping a coin into a piggy bank. The best tricks? Are the easiest, sometimes."
"Did you do a little... magic show? Family."
"Yeah. Naturally."
I sighed.
"What."
"I got my uncle at the holidays. I'm still in my pajamas. I did my couple little tricks I had, then. The kit had this... big, plastic magicians top hat. You could pour water, or milk? Into it. Then, put it on your head."
"Cool."
"Yeah. I didn't do it just right. I put it on my head? And milk ran down all over me. My uncle about pissed himself laughing."
That ignited the real magic. The bell tones of her laughter, tinkling and shimmering.
"Any more?"
"The book was the neatest part. All magicians do coin tricks. One chapter? If you got good, you could do a whole quick little show, just with one coin."
"Did you?"
"These guys? In addition to everything else. Are really spending years, hours every day. Working on their sleight of hand. That, along with the creativity and knowing the old tricks... that's the real magic. And that was the big lesson I took away from all that. The real magic? Was all the work and practice."
When I sit and think about things, I can do it for hours. I've always been like this. From the time I was very young, my mom would ask. What are you doing? Thinking, mom. About what? I'd tell her. Sometimes, mom had the answer. Or, ask your father. But when mom and dad both shrug and say they have no idea? Wow. On your own.
Some life lessons I learned when very young, stayed with me for life. I remember sitting at the downstairs table, where I could work on models and things that might make a mess. I was really frustrated. I'm looking right at the instructions, which are diagrams in the form of blueprints. I've done every step, in order, exactly. This next step? Simply isn't working. It should. It can't not work, yet its so.
Frustration. Mom smiled. The answer? She didn't know. But she knew this. I was to go watch TV. It was summer and the weekend. Take a break. That? Would help. I argued, of course. How could doing nothing, achieve any results. This was the opposite of all the other lessons! Keep at it. Don't quit. Be persistent. Use your head for something other than a hat rack.
Mom was persistent. She claimed that taking your mind off of the problem? It would more or less solve itself. I marched off, and watched TV for what was supposed to be 15 minutes, turned into 45 minutes. I had successfully forgotten all about my big problem, and got engrossed in some show. Oh yeah, almost forgot. Walked back in to the table, and the much vaunted problem. I was calm now. And just like that? Oh, okay. Couldn't have been more than a minute or two, and I had it. My mom had her gloating smile. See? Never forget that lesson, dear. And I hadn't. That little trick, served me well my whole life.
Step one. Start early, stay at it, never quit. Put long hours in.
Step two. When you're stuck? As a last resort, take a break. Clear your head. Forget about it.
I found that not only did this trick work, and really with all kinds of things. It had a corollary. The answer to a long standing problem? Will sometimes just pop right into your head, and I mean out of nowhere. Older, I was really into working out. Naturally I had that dogged persistence. Work out more often. Longer at a time. Working out I found, be it my running or the later lifting weights? Made me feel better. Then mom's mental trick? Worked here, too. I had to take a week off of working out, and it turned into almost two weeks. I was amazed the first workout back? Wow. I was stronger, I was off my plateau I had been stuck on. I was soon onto a new plateau.
Found out a long time later? That what I thought was my revolutionary discovery I had made, was actually standard advice. I just hadn't known it and stumbled onto it.
Before my hot spot and the sudden rewiring into the art and creativity side of my brain? I was a very... linear thinker. Given a problem? My approach had been taught to me. Identify the problem. Come up with a strategy or insight. Figure out where to begin, and break the process down into steps. Now? One by one, take those steps. Do not stop until done with the last step working.
Linear. Start to finish. Straight through, from beginning to end. Logical progression.
But artistic thought? I was killing time reading about Michelangelo. It was no puff piece, he said things that came across as profound and insightful? Nearly all the time. You see, if you sit there and try to imagine the process of making, say... Michelangelo's David statue? What would any rational person do. What. You would make a very rough, thicker than needed outline of a human statue. Slowly refine that, all over gradually. Who wouldn't imagine this.
And, this is in all actuality? The process all sculptors use. Its what they are taught, and its what they all report works.
But Michelangelo wasn't a regular sculptor. He did? What they all couldn't do. When they asked him how he went about making David in marble, they were expecting a similar description. He claimed, David was already in the giant piece of marble he chose. He simply removed what was around David and set him free.
This could easily pass for hyperbole, the artist doing excellent PR work. Not so. Observers? Already knew Michelangelo would do things such as... dive in and go straight for the neck. Chisel it to such fine detail as the cords of the neck, and veins showing in three dimensions. His signature life-like marble statue only he could make. Then? He would go right in on the leg, perhaps. He moved around.
Serious art students know that the man, like any great sculptor with a long career... left in his wake a trail of unfinished marble statues. The marble had a fault line, and came apart. Nothing even a master can do, but abandon it. Its clearly seen. Lifelike neck and leg, and where he stopped work. He really didn't rough out and refine.
You would think that was wrong and incorrect? Yet, he's the master. Whatever he does? Is obviously the best.
I'm sitting there, just having finished reading this.
I have what I feel like a... buzz all over me. Like a few beers? But I haven't had a sip of a drop and I'm sober as a judge. Its intoxicating, this revelation. I don't have to start at the beginning of a program, take each planned step, and end at the completion. I can dive... right in, and thoroughly complete some easily accomplished middle portion of the giant software project. Like Michelangelo doing just the neck, to veins and hairs. Then, different parts as they present themselves. I'm not working in marble, I have it easy. I can rearrange work without ruining marble.
My software work? Went immediately through the roof. I wasted no time any longer, anywhere I got stuck. There were other parts I could do. I could do that one most pesky stage last, and sit on that final problem until it said uncle, and it was in the bag. I don't make outlines like all other programmers, I just... sit down and start typing, playing, growing, refining, sequencing. I type in clay. When I'm done? Run it through the compiler, and its firing the clay permanent.
So, it was already a major feature to use my new "artistic" approaches to problems and things no artist would ever be interested in, under normal circumstances.
Magic, huh?
Hmm.
I would certainly like the Governor? To disappear. If I could arrange for him to disappear into a puff of smoke, and he vanished? Sign me up. I can no longer rely on the backup plan. To trade my life for his, the easy way. I used to not really care if I lived or died, it was just job number one to get him and all that were with him. I have a vested interest in staying alive. I have to try to get away with this, to best preserve my life with her.
How can I make what is arguably the most important man in the whole state? Vanish. Well, the big magician of my youth, made all kinds of things disappear. It was his signature performance. The joke was, when was he going to make the Empire State Building disappear. I realize magicians don't actually make things disappear. They just fool us into believing it happened. But, if I can make him disappear and everyone scratches their heads? He went somewhere. Only I know exactly where. I can have some alone time with him, or dispatch him quick and clean if time is of the essence.
Its not impossible. My youth's magician I grew up with? Big escape artist, it was the other half of his big act, disappearances and escapes. Typical example? He gets a hood tied over his head. He gets marched to the gallows. I mean, you watch this happen, and you don't take your damn eyes off him. They hang him, and... one of the hooded executioners, who he never once ever approached? Whips off their hood. Its him!
If I could do something even remotely similar? I need to think along the theme of a big magic act. What one or two elements can I bring into this, that would be useful. I'm drawn to the image in my head. If you watch everything? You still can't see where... it... happens. I have what I guess you could call, what. A generalized approach to problem solving. When time isn't of the essence, I like to casually look at the problem from all angles. If I can? I list all possible responses, even those that aren't likely to work at all. I remove everything that doesn't work? What can I do with what's left.
I honestly don't know how many times I watched that performer. He gets the hood tied over his head. The camera? Never once stops or starts, and follows him continuously. He gets hung, and... he's one of the executioners now.
What do I know. About other tricks. Tiny, easily understood tricks. When I pull the coin or other small object from behind an ear? I think about everyone realizes, its an object I can hide in my hand, and I simply pretend I'm finding it just behind their ear. Its not so much a trick to me, as a tiny acting performance.
But, on a basic level? The coin is in my hand, long before the trick is even starting.
Is... this indicating that my magician I watched, is somehow already the executioner. Long before I start looking? Because the camera follows my magician around, not that extra hooded executioner.
I can't do this trick, but... I need to think like this. The magician? Wore a white shirt, but everybody was head to toe, executioner's black. Watch him, not everyone else.
Anywhere I can lure the Governor to? All eyes, attention, cameras, cell phones... all will be on him. He's the magician that way. Me? I'm that random hooded executioner. Right there on stage, but in the background all the same.
I pretend I'm a cop on scene. The Governor? Gets killed. If you don't see the killer, they say everyone is a suspect. I'm a cop, I didn't do it. I can rule myself out, everyone else? Could have done it. I can't see the killer here. I can now rule out all these other people here. One of those people? Should ideally be... me.
Not that I'm sure exactly why? But all big magic acts. Disappearances and escapes alike? Have some dramatic... explosions and smoke. Other than the smoke or flashing curtain momentarily hiding the magician or the thing disappearing? All those other explosions and plumes of smoke... do nothing, seemingly. They're there, though. Part of the performance. I'm not murdering the governor, I'm creating my own perverse performance art.
I know I'm not, but its amusing to say in my head.
What sort of any manner of disappearing and reappearing trick, a basic one, can I design from scratch off the top of my head. Hmm. An hour of playing, bore fruit.
There's a hallway, and a door at the end of it. The door is open, and on the far visible wall, I can see a long couch in that small room. The couch extends from the left and right edges I can see in that little room. I'm fleeing from someone. They're watching and pursuing me. I go down that hallway. I pause in the door, and slowly go... left.
Now. They already know there's no other way in or out of that room, so they have me trapped. Its what they want. They just watched me go in, pause, and go left. They approach that door, and as long as they don't see me go across their field of vision? I'd have to be on the left in that room. They approach slow, and jump to their left as they pop in. Because they saw me.
If I magically am on the other side, the right side? As they are jumping in the door and going left, left, left? Easy to take them from behind, unaware.
How did I do this magic act? Easy, in my head. If that long couch extends from before my left door view, and past my right door view edges? I'm out of sight as I go left, entering the room. If you can't see the left edge of the long couch? Its logically obvious, that you can't see me walk up to it. I crawl behind the couch, right across your field of vision, and come out the other end of the long couch. Which ends off of your field of vision on the right side. I can now logically, exit the rear of that side of the couch, and easily stand up and walk to the right side of the door.
Hmm. I'm a rank amateur, and I just constructed a valid magic act. I seemingly vanished from the left side of the room, and magically materialized on the right side of the room. In the space of seconds.
I wish that pro magician from my youth was here, advising me.
This will be, in the end? Linear and scientific, and efficient. It will have some elements of, what. Style and artistic statement. A performance of some kind. It will also at least contain elements of, if not simply outright be... a magic act. The more you watch? The more you'll never see it. Any trick, is done before you even know anything is going to happen. Keep watching this hand. If its in there? It was always there. You just don't think so. If its gone? It was long gone and somewhere else, before the trick started. From the moment you started "watching" the hidden thing in my hand? It was already... somewhere else.
I'm really not fooling you. I simply never let you know where the thing is in the first place. I pretend to show you, where it is.
Also? I need a blind alley. When they try to figure out what happened? This should create huge confusion and bewilderment. With nothing to start on, I could plant some obvious and convincing bread crumb trail. Its all that can be seen, at all. And if they follow it? It leads them... nowhere. It should be constructed to take as much time and resources as possible. The system? Will use any and all available resources, to try to do something. I know this, from my ex's murder.
The governor? Is twenty times more important than she ever was in the public's eye. The pressure to get whoever did this? Will be twenty times as enormous. With nothing to see, the obvious possible breadcrumb? Will be seized and followed. As long as it leads nowhere, its the secret weapon.
I have a long time to go about this.
I've been spacing out on her. I take flights of fancy, when I smoke pot. We're both in extended kinky afterglow, and this 29 percent stuff has both of our eyes blood red, half closed, dopey grins on our faces. She's sprawled over and across me. She breaks my reverie by simply raping my mouth with her tongue. Slow and steady. Confident from the moment she begins, that I'll open and allow it. Experience has taught me that if I flinch or start? I earn her fake anger and fun punishments.
"A rape, a real one. Has a lot of weird components."
"I guess. Its a strange crime."
"On one purely practical level? This guy, this rapist. He's clearly willing to risk everything, to force sex on his female victim. There is at least a tiny element, of the notion that the female victim? Is so desirable, seen as so unattainable? That this is the only way to grab her and have really rough sex with her. In that tiny way only? Its sort of the ultimate compliment."
"If you say so."
"I read it. It makes sense."
She paused and her eyes twinkled.
"Plus? I'm in charge. And if I believe it? That's what counts."
More eye twinkling and mischief in them.
"Its obvious and we talk about it. I'm fulfilling my fantasy. I'm the rapist now. I'm the one that's in control, that's powerful. I've experimented with it, to make sure already. When I played doggy, then kitty for you. I can say it now. I was doing what I had been taught by the rapist. How to pose for sex from behind. After I've fully explored, what I can do as the powerful rapist? I'm going to return to that. You? Will slowly begin to turn the tables on me, planned by me of course, but it will happen. Like a car setting off on a long journey? When we make it back to the starting point, we're facing the other way, coming home."
"If you say so."
She winked.
"And I do."