Anomalous Readings and Other Worlds: Hands Not Required for Sleight of Hand

Hands Not Required for Sleight of Hand
“Yes!” Malachi crowed.

        

The locals shook their heads and a few went back to business on the cobblestone path while a few walked over towards them. Reggae resisted the urge to shuffle behind Arroyo. He didn’t see any arrows or weapons of any kind on these locals, and they appeared to be familiar with the portal traveling duo.

        

“Man, we all know you enjoy strays, Zeb, but this is getting a little ridiculous,” one of the locals said and gestured to everyone behind Zeb and Malachi.

        

Reggae squinted at them. They were humanoid, but not human like Agent Gray nor whatever Zeb’s species was. Perhaps Gray and Zeb were just as alien on this planet-moon as they were.

        
Zeb waved him off. “This is just a pitstop. The big lad and the other two got caught up in a series of anomalies Malachi and I were chasing. We’re trying to get them back to their home planets.”

        

“Sounds like this happens a lot,” Arroyo muttered to him.

        

Reggae nodded.

        

The local placed his hands on his hips and leaned back. “Well, you picked a good time to show up with a crew. The market is in full swing and there’s plenty of food. Even for the big guy.”

        

Malachi brushed by Zeb, rubbing his wing claws together eagerly. “Is she here with the cakes?”

        

The local chuckled. “Yeah. In her usual spot just down there.”

        

Malachi turned immediately but was halted by Zeb.

        

“Hey, why don’t you take the others with you? Show them around while I go get the part to fix the tracker?” Zeb said.

        

Malachi ducked his head in embarrassment. He glanced over his shoulder at them and waved a wing. “Come on. Lunch is on me.”

        

Arroyo sped forward to join him. Reggae tagged behind with barely a second’s hesitation. While the other planet moon had been jaw dropping and nothing like he’d ever seen before, this place felt more familiar and welcoming and not so much like he had to hide.

        

“I intend to stay with Agent Gray,” Nikola said.

        

“I’ll be fine, Synth,” Gray said.

        

Reggae inclined his head to see the giant bird’s face, which was pinched in thought. Finally, Nikola shook his head.

        

“No. I’d prefer to stay with you and Zeb,” he said.

        

Gray sighed and shrugged.

        

“No worries. It’s fine if he comes.” Zeb pointed at Malachi. “Son, don’t lose them at the market. Meet back here in an hour. This thing should be fixed by then and we’ll be able to catch the next surge.”

        

“Alright, Da, it’s all good. I actually know my way around here and no one’s going to shoot at me. Hopefully.”

        

The group split with Gray and Zeb going one way, accompanied by Nikola’s hulking form, and he and Arroyo following Malachi the other way down more cobblestone streets. Locals paid them little heed as they walked by, which settled Reggae’s nerves but seemed to make Arroyo’s feathers stand on end.

        

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

        
She pulled up short and eyed a few local kids as they cut between them and Malachi across the street. Her feathers took a moment to lay back down to sort of flat.

        

“I’m not used to so many people being around,” she said.

        
“Oh.” Reggae looked from one side to the other at the locals occupying the shops and houses. “Shoots, guess I’m used to a bunch of people being around.”

        

Arroyo shook the darkly marbled feathers on her neck and huffed. “That’s because you don’t come from a world where you strike fear into the hearts of humans when they see you. Humans get scared, they fight back. Even when you haven’t done anything to them. Yet.”

        
“Sorry to hear it’s like that for you and your brother,” he said.

        

“It’s fine. Sometimes it’s lonely at the top of the food chain. And it’s not like every single human is scared of us. Some just have a healthy respect,” she continued. She tilted her snout towards a dozen locals sitting at tables in front of a coffee shop. “I’m just on edge with there being so many of them in one place. They’re kind of scattered everywhere on my planet.”

        

“Eesh. You would not have been a fan of this wedding my brother and I hosted on our property. Humans, birds, bats, sea monsters, booze, cake, confetti,” he said in an effort to lighten her mood. “I do not remember that cleanup fondly.”

        

“Guys, you’re lagging behind!”

        

Arroyo rolled her eyes at Malachi’s cry.

        

They followed his train of silver and tan tail feathers around a corner. Reggae froze with one foot in the air. Arroyo did the same.

        

Stalls and booths lined each side of the wide street and hundreds of locals flooded the area. The hum of life escalated into a dull roar. Bright colors flashed here and there, almost in every corner. Everything from arts and crafts to food appeared to be served at the stalls. Savory smells drifted in and fought for prominence with sweet smells in Reggae’s nose. His mouth watered.

        

Malachi circled back and came between them. He draped his wings over their shoulders. “Okay. There’s a lot going on here. Don’t get distracted. We’re after Schlocka’s cakes before she runs out.”

        

They were barely a third of the way through the market when distraction happened. Arroyo peeled out from under Malachi’s feathers and straight to a booth where children and a couple adults stood. Reggae followed her, much to Malachi’s protests.

        

“Guys. Cakes. Remember?” Malachi followed them to the booth.

        

“Hold on. I want to watch him do it again,” Arroyo said dismissively.

        

Reggae zeroed in on the local behind the booth. He grinned and Malachi groaned.

        

“Seriously? We’re bailing on cakes for card tricks?” Malachi asked. He tugged on Reggae’s tail. “Please?”

        

“I’m with Arroyo. I want to watch,” he said.

        

Malachi sighed in an overly dramatic fashion, but stayed put.

        

The local spread the deck of cards on the booth and shuffled them with a certain flair. While they weren’t the kind of cards Reggae was used to, they seemed to have a similar principle. They had markings in the corners and pictures on the faces, fit nicely into the local’s palm, and seemed to be between fifty to sixty in number.

        

The local fanned out the deck and looked at one of the children. “Pick a card.”

        

The kid snagged one at random.

        

“Now remember that card, okay?”

        

The kid nodded vigorously. Reggae stretched his neck to glimpse the card over the kid’s shoulder without invading the kid’s space.

        

“Put it back somewhere in the deck, I’m not looking,” the local said, and covered his eyes to make his point.

        

The kid stuffed it back in not too far from where it had been originally.

        

“Is it in there?”

        

“Yep.”

        

The local dropped his hand and didn’t miss a beat. He shuffled the deck with such speed and flair that the cards themselves were little more than a blurr. Reggae glanced over at Arroyo. The intense concentration on her face as she watched the local’s misdirect gave him pause. He wondered if she’d ever seen a card trick before, or any type of sleight of hand.

        

“Do you see your card?” the local asked and fanned out the deck again.

        

“Wait.” Malachi shoved through and hovered over the kid who seemed to pay him no mind. “I don’t see it.”

        

“Me neither,” the kid said.

        

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arroyo’s frown deepen.

        

“Really?” The local seemed surprised. He shuffled the cards again and asked if they could see it now. Malachi and the kid agreed they could not.

        

Reggae chuckled as the local made a big display of sneezing out the card.

        

“Is this your card?”

        

The kid giggled.

        

“What?!” Malachi squawked. He ruffled the kid’s mop of hair - fur? - and looked down at him. “How do you think that card got in his nose?”

        

“I don’t know,” the kid said.

        

“It might have boogers on it now,” another kid chimed in.

        

A chorus of ‘ew’ went around the onlookers.

        

“No boogers, I promise,” the local said. He placed the card back into the deck and lazily shuffled it again. “It’s all magic.”

        

Arroyo snorted.

        

The local looked at her with lowered brows. “You don’t believe in magic?”

        

“They’re not from around here,” Malachi explained. “They’re just visiting.”

        

“And they don’t have magic where they’re from?”

        

Malachi laughed. “Just like we have magic here?”

        

The local shushed him. He met Arroyo’s eyes and perked a brow while spreading and picking up the cards across the booth. “You want to see me do it again?”

        

She nodded. Reggae stared at her for a moment longer. There was something other than concentration on her face now. Something cheekier.

        

The local fanned the cards out in front of her. “Pick a card.”

        

Malachi, the kids, and Reggae leaned in close as Arroyo selected a card. She showed it to them, making sure everyone knew what it looked like. As she put it back in the deck, Reggae narrowed his eyes. She’d made an odd movement with her claw.

 

“Now watch as I make this card disappear,” the local said. After a showy and thorough shuffling, one that lasted much longer than Reggae thought it should have, the local fanned the cards again. “Do you see your card?”

        

Arroyo shook her head as did everyone else.

        

Malachi dropped his beak next to Reggae’s ear. “If he pulled it out of his nose last time, I’m kind of worried where he’d going to pull it out of this time.”

        

Reggae smothered the laugh that threatened to interrupt the staredown between the local and Arroyo. The local flicked his hand and pulled a card out from behind his ear.

        

“Is this your card?” he asked with a smarmy smirk.

        

A sound of surprise went around the group.

        

“That’s not the card,” the kids whispered to each other.

        

“Uh oh,” Malachi said. “Guess we really don’t have any magic.”

        

The local glanced at the card in confusion.

        

Arroyo made a face. She grumbled and rubbed her wing knuckle against her sternum, then started coughing. Everyone’s attention focused on her. With one final hack, the card fluttered to the booth, face side up. The missing card.

        

The kids cheered and Malachi looked like his brain might explode.

        

“She pulled one over on you, Jedd!” Malachi howled in hysterics.

        
Looking particularly smug, Arroyo turned away from the booth and spluttering magician. Reggae and Malachi followed her back onto the main thoroughfare. Malachi was still snickering.

        

“That was awesome. Jedd’s really hard to fool,” he said between giggles.

        

“So where’d you learn how to do that?” Reggae asked.

        

“I’ve survived on a post-apocalyptic world this long for a reason,” she said. “You don’t live very long if you can’t spot someone palming something, whether it’s a card or gun.”

        

“That was pretty smooth,” Reggae said.

        

“Guess you don’t need hands for sleight of hand tricks,” Malachi said. He waggled his wings in front of them. “Zeb’s tried to teach me card tricks, but he says I’m all feathers and I’d probably be more suited to stage magic. Or the real magic of science.”

        

Arroyo opened her mouth, then closed it just as quickly as her stomach growled loud enough for them to hear.

        

“Where’re these cakes you were so excited for, brah?” Reggae asked.

        

Malachi pointed to a booth perched on the corner. The local behind the booth smiled as they approached.

        

“Well, if it isn’t my most reliable customer,” she said. She looked behind Malachi at him and Arroyo. “Who’re your friends?”

        

“This is Reggae and Arroyo. Oh, Schlocka, you should’ve seen it. Arroyo just pulled a fast one on Jedd and left him gaping like a fish,” Malachi said. “It was hilarious.”

        

She put a fist on her hip. “Yeah, you’re right, I would’ve loved to have seen that. He didn’t scam you out of any money, did he?”

       

“No, and I don’t think he was willing to try it after Arroyo got him,” Malachi said.

        

Schlocka looked over at Reggae. “Did you get to pull a fast one on Jedd, too, or just stand there and laugh like the rest of them?”

        
“Nah. Card tricks aren’t really my thing,” Reggae said. He had always been all claws when it came to cards, but his brother Blue was remarkably good with them, though they tended to play poker rather than do tricks with their cards.

        

“Mine either,” she said. She looked back at Malachi. “The usual?”

        

“Yes, please. And two more for my friends, all on my tab,” Malachi said.

        

As Schlocka started to pull pastries that smelled absolutely divine out of a glass display case, Reggae turned to Arroyo.

        

“Maybe you could teach me how to spot palmed cards sometime,” he said.

        

She shrugged. “If you want to come back to my world with me, you’ll learn real fast. There’s no teacher like experience.”

        

“While that sounds…terrifying, I think I’ll have to pass on that one. My island’s calling my name,” he said.

        

“I could give you a crash course right now.”

        

He motioned for her to proceed.

        

“It’s all about misdirection. When someone wants to pull something over on you, they make you look left while they do something on the right. The mind isn’t great at focusing on everything all at once.”

        

“So while he was being all fancy with his shuffling, you saw him palm the card,” he said.

        

“Exactly. And he was too busy trying to show off to me and missed the fact I snatched two cards and palmed one of them.”

        

“And so the fooler became the fooled,” he said.

        

Malachi turned and passed each of them a warm pastry wrapped in paper. Reggae inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled upward. They smelled even better than his cinnamon rolls and cookies, not that he would ever admit that to Blue. He had a reputation to uphold as the best baker on the island.

        

He took a bite as they began to walk away from Schlocka’s stand at a more leisurely pace than they had when Malachi had been herding them earlier. The pastry was soft and moist and flaky with a sweet center he couldn’t identify, but just knew it tasted so good and he’d probably never find that flavor again.

        

Too bad he’d only gotten one. It was gone in a couple bites. Malachi had the right idea with getting two of them.

        

“Hey guys, wanna see a magic trick?” Malachi asked suddenly.

        

Reggae and Arroyo looked over at him.

        

Malachi paused. Reggae and Arroyo posted up on either side of him and watched in confusion and fascination. He held one pasty up in front of his face and stared at it intently. He waved it around with an eerie whistling, making it dance up and down and side to side.

        

Then shoved the whole thing in his beak.

        

“Tada!” he said, spraying crumbs everywhere around his mouthful.

        

“Very magical. My brother has your same talent.”

        

Reggae eyed the second pastry being held by Malachi’s wing thumb. It wafted under his nose temptingly. He caught Arroyo’s eye and nodded.

        

“Do you think the trick’s in the beak or the thumb?” Reggae asked and flicked his empty pastry paper at Malachi’s empty wing thumb.

 

“Definitely the beak. Who even needs thumbs,” Malachi said.

        

Arroyo cleared her throat and poked at the empty thumb. “Thumbs are pretty useful. Just ask your man, Zeb. I’m sure he’d agree.”

 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t useful,” Malachi said. Reggae balled up his paper wrapper. “I’m just saying I could function perfectly fine without it.”

        

“Are you sure? What if you need to hold something?”

        

“That’s what my feet are for.”

        

Reggae slowly slipped the paper wrapper ball into the pastry’s place.

        

“Then how would you hold your pastries?”

        

“It’s not like I need to hold them for very long. See?”

        

Reggae hurriedly stuffed the reward of his sleight of hand into his mouth. He and Arroyo watched in stunned silence as Malachi tossed the paper wrapper into his beak. Neither of them said a word. The pastry started to melt in Reggae’s mouth. He didn’t dare swallow. Not yet.

        

It took a full twenty seconds for Malachi to spit the paper wrapper out with a wet plop. He glared at it and then at his now empty wrapper still held by his wing thumb. He looked up. Then to the left. Then the right. Then back at the empty wrapper.

        

“What in the world…”

        

Reggae choked on the pastry as he snorted. It burned his nose and he could barely swallow it before he needed intervention. Malachi stared at him with a dropped jaw.

        

“Tada?” Reggae said weakly with an equally weak grin and a helpless shrug.

        

Arroyo spread her wings out. “It’s magic.”

        

Malachi didn’t look very amused.

        
But as he looked around the gobsmacked bird at Arroyo, he could tell she was amused, and that’s what counted to him.