[Veritas]

It was a Tuesday evening, nothing going down, so I settled in for a bit of channel surfing when I came across Criss Angel's show, MindFreak. Since I would be hosting this guy, I thought, I'd better check him out just to find out what Andi saw in this bozo. I tuned into A&E and settled back.

It was an episode entitled "Naked Jail Escape". Criss would be imitating Houdini, his idol (hey, what magician doesn't idolize Houdini? The man set the gold standard for magicians and escape artists everywhere!) by escaping from a nineteenth-century jail cell somewhere in the Southwest after shaking off several pairs of handcuffs, all in two hours--stark naked, as Houdini had done. The editors did blur out his block and tackle, though--after all, this was national television.

There was a small audience at the jailhouse, all women--not so much to see Criss Angel perform a spectaclar escape from a near impenetrable cell as to see him stripped down to his after-shave, which they would if he didn't get out in time. They even bought camera phones for the momentious occasion, to be downloaded on the internet. Oh, the joys of modern technology!

Well, to make a long story short, he pulled it off and pulled his clothes on in the nick of time, to the disappointment of the ladies present. The "Houdini with a little weeine" line was a good one. After it was over, I decided to call it a day and get some rest; I had work tomorrow and needed my beauty sleep. Still, it was a hell of a trick. Houdini would have been proud.



The week wore on as it always does when you work the nine-to-five, but Friday finally showed up. I spent the evening gathering cleaning supplies and making out a list for what would be needed for the trip. Andi finally got over her little snit and resigned herself to helping me prep the Angel for the Labor Day weekend. She would spend the night at my house because we would be starting off at five AM. It's about an hour's drive frim my house to the marina, barring road construction and traffic, especially during Labor Day weekend as the Annual Mackinac Bridge Walk takes place there at the same time. I figured they would hold this show during that time since the bridge is closed to traffic that day anyway. Convenient.

Andi was still moping about not meeting CA, even when I promised her breakfast at Bob Evans (That would have cheered anyone up. Man, I love their biscuits!). Anyway, she arrived at my doorstep with a huge cube-sized gift box bound with a wide purple ribbon. A peace offering? I thought. Or a bribe? When I asked her about it, though, she rather testily replied that it was for Criss; she and some fellow fans got together during the week and made him a gift package. If she couldn't be on board, she would show her devotion some other way. Fine, I thought, she can leave it in the cabin, and yes I promised cross-my-heart-hope-to-die that Criss would get it.

We ordered pizza and turned in early. She settled in on the sofa bed in the livingroom with her iPod (did I spell that right?) and myself in my own bedroom with the latest John Grisham novel.




Saturday morning, five AM. I roused myself and Andi for the trip to the marina. Well. I roused myself, anyway; Andi needed more encouragement: usually she sleeps until noon on the weekends. I tried knocking on the door, shaking her, everything except rolling her out of bed like a drill sargent. Then I hit upon the magic words: "Criss Angel". I sang into her ear.

That did the trick! She snapped awake for about a full moment and then rubbed her face and wrenched herself out of bed, remembering why she was here. "Hustle! Hustle!" I urged her. "Come on, Kiddo! Get moving! We're buring daylight here!"

Showered, dressed, and ready to roll, I waited in the pickup while Andi went to fetch her gift box which she suddenly remembered just after I locked the house. I told her to make it snappy as she dashed back into the house, grabbed her precious gift box, dashed back outside, then ran to the front door to lock it, ran back to the truck, stowed her parcel in the truck bed and covered it carefully with the tarps I keep back there.

Finally, we were on our way. Day was breaking as we pulled into the Bob Evans restaurant for breakfast. If I was going on a long trip and work on the boat, I needed sustinance. So did Andi--that girl was as skinny as a rail! I picked up a paper from a vending machine outside. I always check the weather forecast for the day when I head out to the boat to see if it's going to be clear or whether there's a storm coming in or not. It'll be hard to work on the boat in choppy waters.

We were seated and given menus, but I didn't bother to read it; I ordered my usual (two eggs, ham, homefries, juice and, of course, biscuits with honey) while Andi ordered cereal and milk. No sense of taste, that girl While we waited for our breakfast, I opened the paper for the weather.

Something on the front page made Andi jump. "Looklooklook!" It's him! It's him!", she squealed in delight.

"Who?" I inquired.

Andi grabbed the paper from me, turned it to the front and pointed to a small sidebar with a picture of Criss Angel and a few lines of print about his upcoming appearance on the Mackinac Bridge, story on page 1C in the Entertainment section. To placate her, I forked over Section C for her to drool over, hoping to get some peace.

Bad mistake on my part--she had to read the whole damn article to me: how he was appearing on the Bridge to shoot a "MindFreak" episode, doing some sort of "demonstration" (whatever that would be), a brief bio, the usual celebrity-type interview. She even pointed out a creepy looking photo of the guy. It did tell me the reason he chose the Mighty Mac. though: Brooklyn, St. Louis, San Francisco and other cities with landmark bridges all turned him down, claiming it was unsafe. I think the Gov got together with the Bridge Authority, thinking this would generate revenue for Michigan's ailing economy, to boost tourism, or to at least create publicity.

I settled Andi down so as not to create a scene. Her big blue eyes watered. "Please, Aunt Vicky," she begged. "Why can't I go with you?"

I sighed. "Sweetie, I already told you, I don't want you getting in the way. These people are paying me good money for this and you'd be all clingy and googly-eyed to do anything useful."

"I won't be clingy!" Andi protested, "and I won't be googly-eyed! I'll work real hard! I promise!."

"Just like you promised to take care of the neighbor's cat, and it ran away and we had to go to the animal shelter to pick him up?" I reminded her.

"Okay, okay," she snapped, "but I was just a dumb kid back then.

"And how many months ago was that?"

I was spared a snappy retort when the waitress showed up with our order. We swept the papers we were reading to make room. The minute the waitress left, Andi returned the charge. "All I'm saying is that I've grown up since then," said she.

I had doubts, but decided to call her bluff. "All right," I said, pouring honey on a fluffy biscuit. "I'll just see how 'grown up' you are and how hard you are willing to work when we get to the boat today."

No response form Andi, just a stunned look. I tucked into my breakfast, leaving her to mull over my words.