THE FLASH-PAPER-FOR-BEGINNERS CLASS IS NOT AS full as the previous workshop. Perhaps it’s because flash paper is too technical and not mystical enough. If you asked me five minutes ago what flash paper was, I would have just said it was brightly colored paper, probably orange or red. Maybe with glitter on it. You know, something flashy! But now that the Chakra Cards are missing and all we can find is flash paper in their place, I know I need to find out more.
Crossed Palms Resort is such a big hotel. You can find a room for just about any meeting a guest might have. This particular workshop is being held in a small conference room. There are no pillows or even an elevated stage. Just regular ol’ chairs and a small table. In front of the table stands an older gentleman wearing a very bright Hawaiian shirt. Unlike our previous instructor, he just waits for everyone to sit down. I guess he won’t be making a grand entrance like Ganapati did, which is a total lost opportunity since he deals with fire.
The person I’m sitting next to is dressed completely in black with long black gloves, a tall black hat, and large dark sunglasses. The person on my other side is a young man who simply nods hello. I’m unable to sit in the front, but the conference room is so small that every seat has a perfect view. Once the last seat is taken, the instructor begins.
“I am Professor Blaze,” he says. “I am the foremost authority in all things pyrotechnic. I’ve taught most of the great magicians how to utilize the power of fire to embellish their acts. If you want to add fire to your show, you come to me.”
And with that, he tosses into the air an item that burns so brightly I have to cover my eyes. Professor Blaze is not kidding when it comes to fire. While he might have skipped a grand entrance, practically blinding the small, somber audience with a flash of fire is more than enough to wake us up.
“They don’t call him Professor Blaze for nothing.” I elbow the man next to me and he laughs.
“You want to make a bold statement? There’s nothing bolder than using fire to add a little bit of fear and excitement to a performance,” Professor Blaze says. “The utilization of pyrotechnics in a magical act is definitely not for the faint of heart.”
Professor Blaze then proceeds to break down the history of magicians using fire in their shows. Apparently, it goes back to the very early magicians, when they would use candles for séances to call in the spirits. As magic shows became more and more elaborate and stepped away from intimate gatherings, the use of fire became somewhat of a norm. The bigger the show, the larger the pyrotechnics can be.
“You must not fall into the trap of using fire as a crutch,” Professor Blaze warns. “Consider it more like a good accessory. It adds a bit of sparkle but should not make the whole outfit.”
Like a good shoe or a yellow headband? I can follow that.
“Before we go blow things up, we have to start small,” he says. “And by small I mean flash paper.”
This is what I’ve been waiting for. If Professor Blaze is the expert in everything burning, then he’ll be the right person to ask about the flash paper I found on Ganapati’s meditation altar.
“Now, how many of you know what flash paper is?” he asks.
I raise my hand. “I just found out it is definitely not a very loudly colored piece of paper.”
The audience erupts in laughter, as does Professor Blaze.
“That is correct. It’s not just a piece of paper. It’s a very important paper,” he says. “Before I hand out pieces of flash paper, I want to go over its history.”
Professor Blaze goes into serious-professor mode. I feel like I’m back in school, taking a history lesson from one of my teachers. The woman in black is paying close attention to Professor Blaze’s lecture. As much as I want to be an attentive student, I can’t help thinking about the missing Chakra Cards and what flash paper has to do with them. They must be connected.… But how?
“What if you want to burn something other than just paper?” the mysterious lady in black asks.
“Now, Mysteriousa, we’ve spoken about this before. You just want to jump straight to the big show.” Professor Blaze chuckles nervously. “You’ll need to secure yourself permits. Not everyone is allowed to burn things. Safety is key. Safety not only for yourself but for your audience as well.”
Mysteriousa! What a name. Unfortunately, the lady in black bristles beside me from Professor Blaze’s answer.
“Burning tiny flash paper won’t make much of a point, now will it?” she says.
Professor Blaze furrows his eyebrows.
“Mysteriousa, we all are very much aware of your show,” he says. “You might want to tone down the want for bigger flames at more intimate affairs.”
Mysteriousa scoffs, and I’m left with so many questions. What did Mysteriousa burn that cultivated her a reputation for it? Also, how does she feel about Chakra Cards? I grin at her before discreetly writing down her name alongside Professor Blaze’s in my notebook.
“As I mentioned, flash paper should be used to add flare to your act. With that in mind, you should be thinking of how to light the paper,” he says.
Professor Blaze pulls out a tiny, brilliant silver lighter. The lighter has his initials engraved in it.
“Say hello to Ms. Blaze. I don’t go anywhere without her,” Professor Blaze says. “This silver beauty has been a part of my act ever since my father gifted it to me on my tenth birthday.”
The instructor twirls the lighter, flips it up in the air, and catches it behind him.
“You don’t need a fancy lighter like mine. Any lighter will do, or even simple wooden matches. The trick is finding a way of igniting the flame without anyone noticing,” he says. “And that takes practice. Sleight-of-hand practice. Plenty of workshops exist that will expand your sleight-of-hand work. I suggest daily exercises.”
Professor Blaze manipulates his fingers, shuffling his lighter from one hand to the other until the lighter disappears completely. He does this so fast it’s impossible to follow. If only I could slow down time to see what he’s doing.
“Now, who wants to light some stuff?” he asks.
Finally. No more history lessons. Professor Blaze digs underneath the table and pulls out a wooden chest. It’s small and, like his lighter, has an engraving of his initials.
“This here is my Chest of Flames,” he says, patting the box.
“Is it important in the magician’s world to give your props a special name?” I ask. I think it’s a valid question. Professor Blaze pretty much has a nickname for every little thing.
“It can’t hurt,” he says. “These are your tools. They are part of your repertoire. It’s always nice to add a little life to your objets d’art.”
I’m all for cool nicknames. I mean, my name is Marigold, but everyone calls me Goldie. Perhaps my magnifying glass should also have a nickname, like Ms. Eyes or Mr. Oculus. I’ll have to work on that. I jot the two possible names on a separate piece of paper in my pad.
The woman in black, Mysteriousa, raises her hand.
“Let’s hold off on any more questions. Our time is slowly diminishing like a candle burning out,” he says. “I want to be able to demonstrate the flash paper and give you each a hands-on experience.”
Professor Blaze bursts a small flame from his palms. It’s not as intense as before, but it’s still very surprising. How he’s able to turn his lighter on without showing it is a pretty cool trick. The audience and I clap.
“Okay, I’m ready to incinerate things,” I say to my two seated colleagues.
“You can never be too ready,” Mysteriousa says before adjusting the dark sunglasses that practically engulf her face. I wonder if I should wear sunglasses.
Professor Blaze opens the chest and starts to rummage through it.
“Um, one sec,” he says.
The instructor slowly starts pulling items out of the chest. A top hat. A wand. Another hat. “They were right here.”
He closes the chest, lifts it up, and looks underneath. I know exactly what’s going on. Something is missing. Something important.
“One second,” Professor Blaze repeats.
I excuse myself from my seat partners and join Professor Blaze at the front of the room.
“Professor Blaze, my name is Goldie Vance, and I’m the assistant house detective of the Crossed Palms Resort.” Professor Blaze is much too busy trying to find his missing item to really pay attention to what I’m saying. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can be of assistance?”
“It’s the strangest thing. I placed them right here in this chest, like I always do,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I know I’m getting older, but I always place them in this chest.”
Before I start the search, I have to ask the most important question: “What’s gone missing, Professor Blaze?”
“My flash papers. All of them. Gone,” he says. “Hundreds of flash papers. Just up in smoke.”
Holy flaming papers!
“Are you sure you didn’t leave them in your hotel room?” I ask.
Professor Blaze shakes his head. “I just arrived this morning, right on time for my workshop. My luggage is being held at the front desk. I haven’t had a chance to go to my room yet.”
Perhaps he forgot to pack the stack of flash papers, but Professor Blaze doesn’t seem like the forgetting type. I still ask him. He shakes his head again.
“Is it okay if I take a look?” I ask.
I dig my hand into the chest. It’s practically empty, but I locate one piece of crumpled paper in the far corner. It was obscured by a Hawaiian shirt. I grab the crumpled paper and hold it up for Professor Blaze to see.
“Flash paper?”
He nods. I unfurl the paper and find a rabbit’s foot hidden inside it.
“What in the world…,” Professor Blaze says. “I’ve never seen that before in my life.”
Now, I’m not one to believe in lucky rabbits’ feet. They’re a bit too gruesome, if you ask me. I say leave the rabbit and its tiny feet alone. But I’m hanging out with a bunch of magicians, and I’m not sure what the rules and rituals are.
“Are you sure this isn’t your rabbit’s foot?” I ask.
Professor Blaze shakes his head. “My thing is fire. I don’t play with rabbits or kids or doves or anything breathing.”
“Why would someone take your flash papers and leave behind a rabbit’s foot?” I ask.
“Revenge!”
Mysteriousa has now joined the conversation. Professor Blaze doesn’t seem too keen on having her be a part of it. Maybe it’s because she’s removed her sunglasses and her eyes are a bit ablaze when she says the word revenge! Dramatica is another name I would use for Mysteriousa.
“Now, now, Mysteriousa. You and I both know no one is envious of little old me,” he says. “I’m practically retired.”
Mysteriousa takes the rabbit’s foot from my hand and holds it up to the light to inspect it, as if the foot will somehow tell us where the missing flash papers went.
“Magicians are all a bunch of envious, no-good, grandstanding, show-stealing thieves,” Mysteriousa says. I’m surprised she didn’t add a few cusswords, but I think she realizes I’m still a kid. Professor Blaze’s face turns bright red from her angry outburst.
“Well, you seem to be part of this world,” I say. “Got any clue who would steal flash papers from Professor Blaze?”
Mysteriousa adjusts her gloves and looks intensely at every single person in the audience. A deathly quiet blankets the room.
“We are all guilty for wanting to watch things burn. Every one of us,” she says, pointing her finger at the audience.
“Calm down, dear.”
Dear? Hold the flaming candlestick! Is Mysteriousa actually…
“This is my wife, and she’s clearly upset over the missing flash papers,” Professor Blaze says with an exasperated sigh.