by Michael Avila

Created on: August 01, 2011

The Death of God

I was about to step over the white-haired man lying in the gutter when he reached out and grabbed my leg.

"Will you just leave me here in the gutter, Michael?"

"How do you know my name?" I asked, helping him to a seat on the curb.

"I know everyone's name."

"Oh really...maybe you're just a good guesser," I chuckled.

He waved at a cab driver sitting in a cab nearby.

"Muhammad, how are you today?"  The man's bushy dark beard brushed against his shoulder as he turned to look at this old man.

"Do you know me, sir?"

"Of course, I do...And say hello to Mrs. Peabody, your passenger."

The man turned to look at someone seated in his backseat. Almost immediately, the rear passenger window opened and a gray haired woman in her 70's stuck her matronly head out the window.

"Is that you Alfred?" she asked hesitantly, her eyes bulging like a bullfrog's.

"No Edith, it is not your dear Alfred, although I can assure you he's in a much better place right now."

The woman gasped loudly and practically screamed for the driver to pull away, an order he followed gladly and with great haste.

The old man grabbed my hand and looked at me directly.

"Do you believe me now, Michael?"

I had to admit the man had skills, and with a lesser mark would probably have succeeded with his ruse; unfortunately for him, I had experience with just this sort of trickery.

"Very good my friend, very good. Your acting skills are admirable. Have you done any summer stock, any local theater I might be aware of?"

"Me...an actor? You think I'm an actor?"  A wave of disgust came over him, and for a moment there I thought he was going to spit, Instead, he wiped his mouth clean and just shook his head.

"And a very good one, as I said. But you are playing in front of a tough crowd. You see, I too am in the acting business; only, I act to deceive. What I mean by that is-I am a professional magician. Perhaps you may have heard of me. I go by the name of-"

"Demitri, Le Extraordinaire!  Yes, I know."

I took a step back, not in awe that he knew my alias, but to get a better look at the man himself. Did I know him? Perhaps he was a master of disguise. I had known a few who were quite good; maybe he was one. I reached my hand out to him.

"Please, don't pull my hair-it's mine. And I'm not wearing a mask either."

"You know, now that I think of it, you do remind me of someone I once worked with; but it was so many years ago. Yes, I remember now. I had just started in the business and I was

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