THERE’S A BIT OF A LINE TO GET INTO THE ABRACA-yoga class. I knew it would be a popular one! I felt it in my bones, bones that will inevitably be bent and wrapped in a magical pretzel.
“Just one,” I say to the woman at the check-in table.
“One pillow is available in the front row, if you want to scoot and take it,” she says before checking my badge. “You can leave your shoes over there.”
She points to a wall where shoes are lined up. All the chairs in the room have been replaced with large pillows. The curtains are drawn, adding a calm, cozy feeling to the room. After taking off my shoes, I plop down on a pillow between a woman toying with a piece of silk and a man jotting down notes in a leather-bound notebook.
“Abraca-yoga!” I exclaim, and they both laugh.
“Ganapati Socar is a renowned movement magician from India,” the woman to my right explains. “He travels the world sharing his practice with so many. You’re in for a treat.”
“Movement magician?” I say. “I had no idea there were so many types of magicians.”
The man beside me flips through his notebook and points to a page. “There are thousands of types! The goal is to stand out. You have to find your gimmick. What’s yours?”
“Oh, I don’t have a gimmick. I’m just a casual observer,” I say. “A fan.”
Ringing chimes alert us that the workshop is about to begin. Suddenly, the elevated stage becomes engulfed in fog. You can barely see a thing. I squint to get a view. It’s no use.
“Namaste.”
A voice from within the fog greets us. It’s a very soothing voice, just the right tone. I’m already feeling relaxed. “Please repeat after me. Namaste.”
Everyone in the room repeats the word, and as soon as we finish saying it, the fog lifts to reveal a young man dressed in a long bright-blue tunic with matching pants. He sits crisscrossed with no shoes. His eyes are rimmed with dark eyeliner and his thick black hair hits just below his shoulders.
“Welcome to abraca-yoga—a way not only to find enlightenment in the arts but also to expand the very limits of mind, body, and soul,” he says. “To better attune ourselves to listening to these elements, let us begin with a five-minute meditation. Close your eyes.”
I take a quick look around. Meditation is something I’ve tried a couple of times. I don’t think it’s really up my alley. My eyes are constantly in hawk mode, searching and checking for anything out of the ordinary. Still, I do my best. I shut my eyes tight and listen to Ganapati Socar guide us into a calm state of being, or something like that. Unfortunately, I can still hear the woman beside me fidgeting with the silk in the palm of her hand and the man beside me stowing his notepad away. Somewhere nearby a person coughs. Another moves. Trying to be quiet can be so loud.
“As you open your eyes, try to leave behind your worries,” Ganapati says. “The following movements we’ll be engaging in are meant to prepare us for the rest of the convention. Consider this a blessing to your limbs.”
“My toes need extra blessings,” I say. The man beside me shushes me.
Oops. I guess abraca-yoga means no yakking. Who knew?
Ganapati leads us into a couple of poses. Mountain pose. Warrior. Cobra. They’re pretty easy to follow.
“Now that we’ve acquainted ourselves with the basic poses, make sure to incorporate them into your every day,” he says. “We will now take abraca-yoga to the next level: communicating with your chakras through the use of the Chakra Cards.”
“This is what he’s known for,” whispers the woman to my side.
“The Chakra Cards have been passed down from generation to generation.” Ganapati paces back and forth on the small stage. “No one else has devised a way of incorporating the supernatural elements of being a magician with yoga, not only to supplement your life but also to empower you.”
Ganapati sits crisscross again and closes his eyes. He rests his hands on his knees and mutters a couple of sayings I can’t quite make out. The room is deathly quiet. Something is about to happen! I wait with anticipation. Suddenly, Ganapati begins to levitate. Actually levitate. He floats just a few inches off the floor. I immediately want to get up and place my hand under to see how he’s doing it. Is there a clear platform raising him up? I can’t figure it out.
Ganapati eventually lowers back down to the stage, and I am in awe.
“How did you do it?” I shout. Those around me shush me. How can they not be asking the same question?
The abraca-yoga instructor smiles gently and walks over to where I’m sitting. I’ll tell you this much: No matter how many mountain poses I do, I will never levitate. There’s just no way.
“My child, you never divulge what is truly inside you. You just… do,” he says. “Let us turn to the Chakra Cards and see what they have in store for each of us, including you.”
Ganapati turns back to his stage. While he goes to retrieve his Chakra Cards, the rest of us drink water and loosen our bodies a bit. Walt appears at the door and I go to greet him. He’s not dressed to do abraca-yoga, which is too bad. Walt could use some relaxing lessons.
“Good morning, Walt!” I say. “There’s room in the front row if you want to join in on the Chakra Card–yoga pose stuff.”
“Good morning, Goldie,” he says. “Just making the rounds to see if any new information has come to light about the missing ring. Have anything to report?”
“Do I ever! Ganapati just floated above that stage for a full five minutes!” I say. “It’s the living end!”
Walt presses his lips together. I guess it’s not exactly what he’s looking for. Oh yeah. Levitation is probably just par for the course at a magic convention.
“Sorry, Walt. Nothing to report.”
Just when I finish saying that, we notice Ganapati wave hotel workers over. Walt and I join them backstage.
“They were right here,” Ganapati says. His face is sweaty and flustered. “I don’t understand where they would go. No one else was here. Not a soul. I touched them right before entering the stage. I pat them before each performance to reassure myself of their location. And now they are not here.”
“I’m the house detective, Walter Tooey,” Walt says.
“And I’m his assistant, Goldie Vance!” I pipe up.
“We’ll figure this out together,” Walt continues. “Let’s scour this area before expanding the search.”
Walt and I try locating the Chakra Cards with Ganapati. He says the deck has gold lamination that would make it stand out anywhere. It’s also heavy because of the gold.
“Chakra Cards illustrate different energy points in the body. Throat, crown, third eye. Each card appears to each guest and reflects what they should be opening,” he explains. “They are critical.”
“Are you sure you didn’t ask someone to hold them for you?” I ask.
Ganapati shakes his head. “I have my routine and I don’t change it. Ever.”
I believe him. Routine is everything. We look on the floor behind the few pieces of furniture located backstage. The room was stripped before the workshop, so there aren’t that many places for cards to disappear. The crowd waiting for Ganapati to continue begins to get restless. Walt steps out and explains that we’re dealing with some technical difficulties.
“Do you want to go over what happened one more time?” I ask, pulling out my pad.
Ganapati runs through his routine once again. “Before each performance, I sit and hold the Chakra Cards in my right hand. When the meditation is over, I stand and place the cards on my meditation table.”
He points to a simple, low wooden table. I take a closer look with my magnifying glass. There is a slight crack in the wood, barely noticeable. Something white is tucked in the crack. I pull it out—it’s a piece of paper.
“Is this yours?” I ask.
Ganapati frowns and shakes his head.
“That’s no ordinary paper. It’s flash paper. I do not partake in flash paper. I don’t believe in it,” he says. “That is not mine, my child.”
Ganapati sits down on his meditation table and cradles his head.
“My poor Chakra Cards. They are lost,” he says. “So lost.”
Walt tries to calm him down. “We’ll do our best to locate the Chakra Cards. Do not lose hope, Mr. Socar.”
The Chakra Cards seem to be irreplaceable, which means they are valuable. Stealing them means easy money for someone. I stare at the room full of emerging and experienced magicians.
“Where should we start the process? Do you want to close off the room and interview everyone before they leave?” I ask Walt.
He takes me to the side, away from the distraught Ganapati.
“No, no. Today is your day off,” Walt says. “I’m more than capable of handling a missing deck of cards. It’ll show up somewhere.”
“Walt! This is a mystery. I’m your assistant. You need my help.”
Walt isn’t budging. I know he means well, but I want to help.
“I’ll manage this. You just try to enjoy your day.” He pats me on my shoulder. I know he won’t be changing his mind anytime soon.
I look over at Ganapati. Poor guy. All he wanted to do was open our chakras. Walt announces to the patiently waiting audience that the workshop is unfortunately cut short.
“We didn’t even pull out our Chakra Cards!” shouts the woman in the front row. Others nod in solidarity.
I slip out the side door to avoid any more complaints about uneven chakras. If Walt says he can handle it, then I’m going to leave him to it. I look at my schedule. One item sticks out to me: “Flash Paper for Beginners.” I don’t know a thing about flash paper.
Walt insisted I continue enjoying my day. Well, my day now includes a workshop on flash paper. A little work and a little play can easily go hand in hand. I head toward Conference Room B.