Brother Boswell quickly went to the stage to calm the audience.

“This is part of our magic act, stay calm. She’ll reappear. Just have some patience.” Brother Boswell pleaded as a bead of sweat rolled down his back. He quickly waved the next act on stage.

“Hey, we must press charges.” Mark’s father rushes in and throws his card at Brother Boswell.

“I assure you, it’s part of the act.” A loud bang came from backstage as the next act walked on stage. The crowd started getting restless again. The kids threw up their towels in the air and tables began to shirk behind them.

Brother Boswell quickly ran off backstage to check what made that loud noise.

Mary-Anne said softly, “that’s not how that act is supposed to end.”

“But the magician said that she will come back.”

She put her finger on her lips, then said, “I know this trick, he was supposed to finish it there and then, something went wrong.”

Mark began to panic and felt a sense of loss. Siphiwe stuttered something.

“Come with me,” Mary-Anne said as she grabbed Mark’s hand. They hurried backstage.

“That’s not how that act is supposed to end. Isn’t that child supposed to reappear?” Brother Boswell asked, as the magician dug inside an old chest.

“I can’t find my spell book.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I might not finish the act.”

“What!!!”

Everyone backstage paused in shock. Brother Boswell stared at Mary-Anne, cradled between Mark and Siphiwe, and thought to himself for a while. Now if he couldn’t find this book, it would mean the end of him and his whole show. Either he would spend the night in jail or he could take Mary-Anne and make a run for it. But to where? And what about his dream and his life’s work? He took a deep breath and looked at his precious daughter again. What would become of her and his family?

“Go look for that darn book … and do it discreetly.”

They could hear as Lindiwe’s father screamed, “I’m shutting down this show.” He waved his badge around in the air.

Mark’s father chipped in and said softly, “You know what, why don’t we press charges and that way we can safely get Lindiwe back.”

Luckily, Mark’s mother was around to tell them to stop panicking, and take Brother Boswell’s word to just wait until the show had ended, then they can do whatever it was they had planned.

Brother Boswell told the magician to retrace his steps and find the book quickly before the show ended. They looked everywhere backstage, but still couldn’t find it. Mark was beginning to lose hope.

“We need to find her,” he suggested, as his voice tore out from his chest.

“Ya, let’s,” Siphiwe replied.

“But where can we start?” Mary-Anne asked.

“I don’t know, anywhere. I will need you to go backstage.”

They helped the magician discreetly look everywhere backstage. To no avail. They run to the stables and cages and look under the animals’ feeding trays and under hay stacks. Still nothing. Mark suggested that they should go look in the trailers, maybe they could come up with something there.

They saw the magician coming out of his trailer, sombre, and shrugged towards Brother Boswell. They went inside Brother Boswell’s trailer. There was a large book shelf facing the entrance, a big desk. A huge treasure chest rested beside the chest of drawers. A photo of Brother Boswell’s family – his wife and her four children – hung under a photo of Christ.

There were some costumes all over the trailer. One small bed, with Mary-Anne’s clothes on top of the covers. It reminded Mark of his room, except his room was painted white and always had his brother’s pamphlets scattered all about it.

They looked through all the books on the shelf, but couldn’t find it. They looked inside the laundry basket and inside the chest but couldn’t find it. They were sweating and Mary-Anne heard her father’s voice ask the magician, “Are you sure you didn’t leave it in the last city we went to?”

“No, I was practicing that act on the way here.”

There was a loud thump as Brother Boswell’s body hit the ground.

Siphiwe said, “We’ll never find this darn book. Let’s give up.”

“Siphiwe is right.”

“No!” Mark screamed, as tears welled in his eyes.

“But, Siphiwe is right, what if we left it in another town, we’ll never be able to find it. Besides it is a great book, anyone would be lucky to find it.”

“But, I can’t just give up on Lindiwe like that.”

“Bro, there are so many beautiful girls in Sunrise Avenue, stop stressing,” Siphiwe wrapped his arm around Mary-Anne’s shoulders. Mary-Anne gently removed Siphiwe’s arm from her shoulder and moved slowly towards Mark.

“I really think you need to move on.”

“And what about all our memories?” Mark patted his pockets searching for anything to comfort him, “what about this bracelet? Don’t you understand, I need to give it to her!”

“I think I should wait outside.” Siphiwe said as he walked out.

“But it’s simple. I do it all the time. Moving from one city to the next, imagine all the different people you see, some beautiful, some unforgettable, like you. See, what I’m trying to say is that you can move on from this and, and . . . and be with me.” She moved forward and gently lifted up Mark’s face.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

She moved in closer. Mark, still with the bracelet in his palm, put his hand between Mary-Anne and himself.

“Stop!” Mark said. “I love Lindiwe.”

Mary-Anne stood still as a statue, her eyes wet.

“But what about our kiss earlier.”

“What kiss? You feinted and I only performed CPR.”

“But I felt something. There’s a connection between us. Can’t you feel it?”

“I don’t have time for this, we need to find Lindiwe.” He motioned towards the door.

“And what if I say you can’t?” Mary-Anne recoiled. “I hid the book where no one will find it.”

“I’ll tell on you.”

“Who will believe you?”

She lets off a sardonic laughter, and ran outside. “You’ll never find her!”