=The magic lesson=

(image: Moan Lisa/Meeah Williams)

It's the eve of the big holiday and the town is buzzing. Rumor has it that the president is even going to make a surprise appearance, coming down from the clouds via helicopter. Everything and everyone seems lit up by ten suns. I've decided to take advantage of the crowds and the festive atmosphere to make some fast and easy cash. I set up a table as one of those quick-talking characters who make you guess which walnut shell the pea is under. But I only use two walnut shells and I stutter and the people I'm trying to cheat win as often as they lose. Actually, they win a little more than they lose. Soon I'm down to my last dollar and I lose that, too. An old blind man with two mangy dogs has been listening to me the whole time.  

"You just haven't got a knack for the trick," he says. 

"Trick! Who knew there was a trick!" I say indignantly. "I thought it was a matter of blind luck!" 

He offers to teach me the trick if I buy him a drink at the strip club across the street. I explain that it's a moot point because I already lost my last dollar. There's a gleam in his milky unseeing eyes that looks like the look in the eyes of someone who suddenly recognizes a stranger in a crowd.

"That's it!" he says. "This is precisely how I'm able to see. That's the trick. Get it?" 

"Frankly, no," I answer. 

I figure that I've had enough for one day. To hell with these people, this old man, this holiday. I start to gather up my things to leave. On the table are the two walnut shells. "Go ahead" he says. 

I've forgotten where I left the pea. So I tap the shell on the right with my index finger for no particular reason. Then I lift it up. Sure enough: the pea. 

"That's it," he says. "Now certainly you see how it's done?"

I consider it for a moment. "No," I say again, collect the rest of my things, and go home.

But the truth is, I do think I see it, just a little.