Magic Bottle
As a child,
I was fascinated by magic tricks and used every
opportunity to perform them. I especially enjoyed
those that used ordinary objects or sleight of hand.
I actually could do certain tricks very well and
had some talent, but the props were toys. Made of
plastic, obviously part of a child’s set,
either they looked like unmistakable toys or else
they were made for more adult mannerisms to enhance.
Perhaps
it was the air of mystery about performing the impossible.
Perhaps it was my perception of the rush of the
crowd as they applauded and wondered how I accomplished
the amazing. I don’t exactly know what it
was, but I adored the attention. I was convinced
that my gift was to amaze people.
I
was entertaining some friends and I thought I'd
try out one of my favorite tricks from The Marshall
Brodien Magic Set (As Seen On TV!). Using an ordinary
16 oz. pop bottle, I had a secret invisible cap
that was placed over the bottle. Liquid would stay
in the bottle with this cap on, but it had a hole
in the middle so you could pierce it with a straw
or pencil. This effect was not only painfully obvious,
but it also was performed without much in the way
of finesse. It didn’t take a lot of effort
to figure out my attempts at misdirection
I
could imagine everyone's gasps of surprise! My younger
sister, Gina would exclaim, "Do it again, Danny!"
My brother, Nick, would be collapsed in awe, “How'd
the little twerp do that?!" My Dad would stare
in astonishment, "What talent!" My Mom
would cry out in wonder, "I can't believe it!"
I
went into the guest bathroom to fill up a Pepsi
bottle in the sink. I ran it under the sink, overfilling
it in my eager excitement to please. It started
dripping all over the place, getting on the floor,
soaking my hand-me-down clothes. Thinking quickly,
I held it over the toilet to catch the water. I
congratulated myself at my brilliance. Unfortunately,
since the bottle was wet, it was also slippery.
It shot out of my hands and I heard the shattering
sound as it fell. I gasped in horror! I thought
it broke inside the toilet, sprinkling glass inside
the bowl. I should be so lucky! When I looked down,
I stared in amazement. In a puddle of water lay
the bottle, completely whole! I stared in confusion.
Where was the water coming from? What about the
broken glass I heard? I soon found out as I looked
towards the source of the water.
It
was the end of my innocence that day. The appliance
we use the most and think perhaps the least about,
our toilet, was in its mortal throes. I had dealt
the death blow in one stroke and taken my first
life that day. A torrent of water spewed forth.
I stared in confusion, wracked with shame and guilt.
It’s dead! I killed it! What would my family
say?
I
could imagine everyone's gasps of surprise! My younger
sister, Gina would exclaim, "Do it again, Danny!"
My brother, Nick, would be collapsed in awe, “How'd
the little twerp do that?!" My Dad would stare
in astonishment, "What talent!" My Mom
would cry out in wonder, "I can't believe it!"
I
ran screaming from the bathroom, hollering at the
top of my lungs "I broke the toilet! I broke
the toilet!" My Mom and her guests (who I guess
I managed to entertain after all) stood nearby,
uncertain whether to convey sympathy or burst out
laughing. Perhaps they thought that this sort of
thing happened all the time in our house or even
that we had a warehouse of commodes in storage lined
up for this type of emergency.
I
waited for hours that day for my father to arrive
home. No punishment could have been worse than what
I put myself through. I agonized. In my mind, nothing
in the world could be more dire than the destruction
of the most important appliance in the house. I
agonized over the possible punishments that my parents
could inflict on me. Gone was the promised trip
to Six Flags Great America this summer. Evaporating
before me was all the lost promise of fun and excitement
of the year! I might as well crawl into the septic
tank now and start digging. I was dead.
What
would my father do to me? I know that in his own
way, he loved the toilet like a member of the family.
He spent a good deal of time in there and I had
taken away his solace, the one place in the house
where he could get away from us. I imagined all
kinds of punishment and torture that lay await for
me, such a careless son to cast destruction about
with no regard for the precious things in life.
Would I be drawn and quartered? I didn’t even
know what that meant, but it had to be bad! Terrible
things awaited me, I was sure of it. At the very
least, I would be grounded until I forgot what the
sun looked like.
My
dad came home and it was my mother's idea that we
not tell him anything but rather allow him to discover
it for himself. I waited in silent dismay to hear
my father's yells of rage at The Broken Commode.
I knew that no crime in childhood could be greater.
Instead,
I waited through the silence, huddled in shame near
the closed door of the bathroom. A litany of excuses
paraded about my head, challenging the sheer logic
of my utter guilt. Perhaps I could draft a clever
excuse and evade a young death. It was something
coming out of the toilet, Dad — like
an alligator! I had to stop it with the Pepsi bottle!
But don’t worry, I think it’s gone!
I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I was doomed.
When that door opened, I was destined to die a young
and foolish death.
I
finally heard my Dad exclaim in a puzzled voice
"What happened in here?" I was overjoyed
to hear more confusion than anger in his voice.
He knew everything and I had never seen him confused
before. We didn’t realize it at my early age,
but I would bring him much amazement and confusion
throughout my life.
Unable
to keep silent in the face of his surprise, I burst
out, "I did it, Dad! It was my fault!"
I started to explain that I dropped a bottle in
the toilet and that's when I heard him start laughing.
It started as small giggle, then an unrestrained
belly-laugh. I started laughing, as well, realizing
that it was pretty funny. I soon forgot to be upset
at it and we all shared a laugh together. Weeks
would go by afterwards as my Dad would ask me, laughter
creeping into his voice, “Dan, tell us again,
how you broke the toilet?” It always ended
up with the rest of the family in laughter. It became
one of my favorite stories to tell.
There
never was a prouder sight than a brand new shining
commode being unloaded by my father and grandfather
into the bathroom and being installed! It had everything
on it except a big red bow. Most people get excited
over new electronics, but I still get a gleam in
my eye and a catch in my throat amidst the plumbing
section at Home Depot. I was very proud to see a
working toilet installed. After that day, I kept
all bottles, magical or otherwise away from the
toilet. I had learned
my lesson!
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