“We never figured out how you did it.”
Aleister didn’t like it when his past caught up with him. It always seemed to happen in an airport bar. He tried to never be early for a flight, but he couldn’t do much about delayed planes. At least not with all the airport security watching him.
“Can you still do it?” His name was Jerry. Aleister remembered him from grade school. He hadn’t seen Jerry in over twenty years.
Jerry pulled a dime from his pocket and placed it on the table.
The trick was simple. Aleister, blindfolded, would reach under a hand towel and touch a dime. If he didn’t think about it, he could easily rearrange the substance of the coin, turning it into gold. Or at least something as soft and yellow as his friends believed gold to be.
The only time he failed was when Dave Harris moved the cloth to see if Aleister was replacing the dimes. The last time he performed the trick was when Grandma Betsy caught him. He feared a spanking, but Grandma Betsy simply shook her head in disappointment. He promised to never use his talent so conspicuously again. His magic would fail him if everyone knew about it.
“No,” said Aleister, “I don’t do that sort of thing anymore.”
Jerry, sitting across from him, didn’t notice that the liquid in Aleister’s glass became a little more Jack and a little less Coke.