Houdini(Phil Penne) “…see, Houdini and Bess had this secret code set up. They could use it to communicate on stage without anyone in the audience being the wiser. The numbers one through ten were different words…”

A man with an athletic build and no-nonsense look on his face interrupted.

“Hey, Romeo, you’re the magic act - you’re not supposed to be talkin’ to the dancers. This guy botherin’ you, Eden?”

She was blonde, with a dancer’s physique, skin that gave no clue to her thirty-six years, and eyes that played back and forth between mischief and mystery. She wiped at the sweating glass of her cranberry and ginger ale with an already saturated cocktail napkin and responded to the guard.

“No, Gordy, he’s not bothering me – we’re just talking.”

The object of their discussion mumbled an apology and headed for the stage.

Eden turned back to the uniformed heavy and offered an explanation.

“Gordy, Erich’s okay, really. Okay, so he believes he’s the reincarnation of Houdini, but he’s harmless. I think he’s got a crush on me, and he just likes to talk. He’s nice, and never tries to hit on me.”

Gordy was unconvinced. “Yeah, well, I still think he’s a creep. If it wasn’t for the fact that the customers like him and he works for scale, I think management would have canned him a long time ago.”

Casinos have an inexhaustible supply of adrenaline; people require sleep. The aching dancer and the magician with eyes bleary from cigarette smoke headed across the parking lot to their respective vehicles. He juggled a coat in one hand, the restaurant leftovers that would serve as a late dinner in the other, and called to the dancer through car keys clamped between his teeth.

“Bess… uh, Eden – wait up!”

Unlocking her doors and dropping a makeup case the dancers collectively referred to as their “Bondo kits” in the back seat she acknowledged his presence with just a partial twist of her head.

“Hi Erich. Hey, I’m kind of beat – sorry, but I’m not going to be able to do that cup of coffee with you. Maybe tomorrow.”

A third voice coming from a few feet behind caused them both to turn.

“Hey, Romeo – weren’t you listenin’? That thing about not botherin’ the dancers goes for out here too!” He came to within arm’s reach of Erich and finished his warning. “So stay the hell away from her, you got it creep?”

He punctuated his threat with a solid hook to the magician’s midsection. Erich folded in pain and staggered back a few steps. Eden rushed to his side, shoving her would-be protector away.

“Gordy, what the hell? He was just talking to me! Jesus, leave him alone – he’s not hurting anybody!”

Eden picked up Erich’s keys from the pavement and put an arm around his shoulder. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Erich drew a deep breath and managed to straighten up. “Fine, Bess”, came a hoarse whisper. “I’m fine.”

The next night the magician was back on stage amazing the crowd, but without his usual verve. The night after saw him on stage again, now flushed, with bloodshot eyes. Yet another night added beads of perspiration on his forehead and an uncharacteristic stiffness to his movement.

He was replaced by a vulgar comedian and a second-rate ventriloquist on the fourth night.

Eden waited in the wings with five other dancers who constituted the stage-right half of the chorus line.

“Ladies, thirty seconds. Let’s see those smiles!”

She adjusted her costume and turned to the girl on her left.

“Gina – what happened to Erich?”

Her co-performer frowned. “Who?”

“Erich. The magician.”

“Fifteen seconds!”

“You didn’t hear? He’s in the hospital – he’s got like a ruptured appendix or something. He might die!”

Eden pushed through the line of girls to exit the stage, ran through the dressing room and towards the exit, with a talent coordinator screaming behind her, something about contracts and never working in this town again. Once home she cold-called every hospital in the phone book.

“A guy named Erich with a ruptured appendix? Okay, thank you.”

“A guy named Erich with a ruptured appendix? Okay, thank you.”

Our Lady of Grace finally offered a pay out. A white-haired volunteer directed Eden to the elevator, which led to a series of color-coded lines, the red of which led her to the E.R., only to be stopped by the charge nurse.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but only family is allowed with patients in the E.R.”

“I’m the closest he has to family. I’m his… fiancé.”

The ruse gained her access to his bedside.

Erich was comatose with fever, hooked to a bank of monitoring devices. Eden dragged a chair to his bedside and brushed her fingertips down his arm.

“Erich, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it here sooner – nobody knew where you had been taken. The nurse said it’s peritonitis and that your fever made it to 105. They say they don’t know if you’re going to make it or not.”
She placed her hand on top of his, carefully avoiding the array of ports and tubes to which he had been attached.

“Erich, I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said about Houdini and Bess, and I’ve been reading about him. The more I’ve read the stranger it gets, and the more similarities I’m finding between him and you. He called himself Houdini, but his name was really Erich, just like you. He was in Grace Hospital – you’re in Our Lady of Grace. And I know he didn’t die because of one of his escapes – he died from…”

She sniffed and blinked back a tear.

“…because of peritonitis from a ruptured appendix. It was because he was punched in the stomach by a man by the name of J. Gordon Whitehead. The security guard that punched you – Gordy? His name is Gordon Whitehead. Then there’s the stuff about Bess…”

She looked at the displays of the equipment – not that she understood their function, but to look for any change at all from the current values.
“…She was a performer. I’m a performer. She was a brunette. Yeah, I know- I’m blonde – but only because I thought it would help me get the gig as dancer. I’m really a brunette. But now for the weirdest thing…”

She brushed an errant hair from his eyes and smoothed a crease in his sheet.

“I looked up the secret code that you told me about, and how different words meant different numbers – ‘Pray’ was one, ‘Answer’ was two, three was the word ‘Say’ – well, you know. They also used it in case he died before her, and some psychic claimed to have spoken to him from beyond the grave, she could be sure. If the psychic knew their secret phrase then Bess would know that Erich had been able to reach the psychic from beyond. Their secret phrase was, ‘Rosabelle, believe!”

She looked again at the equipment, seeing no change.

“No, you wouldn’t have any way of knowing why that’s important, would you? See, my name’s not really Eden – it’s Ella… Ella Berso. Management decided that ‘Eden’ was sexier for a dancer than ‘Ella Berso’, so that became my stage name. But I started thinking, and I rearranged the letters in my name... when you move around the letters in ‘Ella Berso’ it spells ‘Rosabelle. And even weirder, when I was growing up, nobody in my family called me Ella. They all called me by my grandmother’s name, since I looked so much like her. Her name was Bess.”

A chirp of one of the devices drew her attention.

Blood pressure, - 80… 86… 92

Heart rate increasing. Respirations increasing. She continued.

“Erich, I know this is weird but… I believe you. This couldn’t just be coincidence. And there as so many similarities between me and Bess that maybe we were meant to be together.”

Blood pressure 94… 98… 103.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, visiting time is limited to fifteen minutes. Time to go.”
“No, please not yet” she pleaded. I think he’s coming out of it. Look at the machines! Please, just a little bit longer!”

The nurse was insistent. “Ma’am, please – it’s time to go. You can come back tomorrow.”

“There won’t BE a tomorrow, don’t you see?” Ella screamed in desperation. “Today is Halloween. Houdini died on Halloween at 1:26 pm. It’s quarter after one right now – Erich’s going to be dead in eleven minutes!”

The nurse paged security. “Ma’am, if you don’t calm down, we’ll have you escorted from the building!”

Ella turned from the nurse and refocused on Erich. “Erich, the code – remember the code, ‘Rosabelle, believe’! Erich, I’m Rosabelle, and I believe. Erich, listen to what I’m saying - listen to the code – Erich: ‘Answer’…’Tell’…’Pray’… ‘Answer’… ‘Look’…”

Two mirthless security personnel responded to the nurse’s call. “Ma’am, how about if you come with us and we can talk about this?”

Ella continued shouting the code. “… ‘Tell’ – Erich, finish the code! Believe! Please, Erich! You’ve got to come back to me!”

The guards led Ella in the direction of the door, one on each arm. Bursting into tears, she continued her pleas. “Please, Erich, finish the code!”
The trio made it to the door with the nurse close at hand. A moan from the bed caused everyone to freeze. Erich’s eyes flickered open; his tongue separated his lips and he spoke:

“’Answer’… ‘Answer’… ‘Tell’… ‘Believe’”

The charge nurse gasped in astonishment. The guards released their grip and Ella walked to Erich’s bedside.

“I told you I believed you, Erich.” She squeezed the tips of his fingers lightly. “I had to believe you – it’s the same as the story of Houdini.”

Erich wagged his head. “No… not the… same.”

Ella stared at him in disbelief. “Not the same? What do you mean?”
He smiled weakly, pulling Ella’s hand to his lips.

“Happy… ending.”

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