By Dwayne Phillips
Copyright Dwayne Phillips 2026
“Granddad, watch my magic trick,” said the little boy as he lurched to a halt after galloping into the living room where his grandfather was half snoozing and half watching television.
The grandfather blinked the sleep out of his eyes and leaned forward with loving anticipation.
“Well,” said the grandfather, “I’m ready.”
“Okay, no, wait, now, okay,” started and restarted the boy as he stomped on imaginary fleeing ants. “Now, watch this.”
The boy held a coin in his right hand, “In my hand I have a coin.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “See it Granddad?”
The grandfather nodded.
“Okay, now, no, wait, yes, this is it, here is the next part. Now, I will place this coin in my right pocket like so.”
The boy dramatically lowered his hand into his right pocket and withdrew it holding it up in plain sight, empty.
“Now,” said the boy, “I clap my hands three times over my head like this!” The boy clapped his hands three times barely reaching his forehead as he was not yet old enough to reach his hands above his head.
The grandfather nodded and waited.
“Now, okay,” said the boy, “here we go. I now put my hand in my left pocket, and” the boy slowly reached his hand into his left pocket and shoved it down to his knee before closing his fist and pulling it back out again.
“I pull out the coin. Taa Daaaa!” sang the boy. “Magic!”
“What’s magic?” asked the grandfather.
“The coin moved from my right pocket to my left pocket,” said the boy. “See? Magic.”
“Oh, my,” said the grandfather. “Now, let’s see. Is there anything in your right pocket?”
“Granddad,” said the boy with a drop in his shoulders, “you aren’t supposed to ask any questions.”
“Well,” said the grandfather, “Let’s see if there is anything in the right pocket.”
The boy shoved a fist into his right pocket and pulled the pocket inside out. A quarter showed in his hand and in his disappointment.
“Well,” said the grandfather, “a magician can put both quarters in one pocket and have them appear in the other pocket.”
The boy sighed. “Really? No one told me that.”
“Sure,” said the grandfather. “Put both coins in your left pocket, clap your hands, and pull the coins out of your right pocket.”
The boy gushed the air from his lungs, rolled his lips inside his mouth, and shook both his fists in front of him. “Alright,” he said. “You see both quarters go into my left pocket.”
The boy put both coins in his left pocket. “You see that my right pocket is empty.” The boy pulled his right pocket out to show how it was empty and then shoved the pocket back into his pants.
“Fine,” said the grandfather. “Now you are ready for a real magic trick. Let’s see you clap your hands over your head and have the coins appear in your right pocket.”
“Okay, now, no, wait, yeah, now,” said the boy. “I’m ready. Are you ready? Here goes.”
The boy raised his hands up as high as he could and clapped three times.
“There,” said the boy. “Did it. Now the coins are in my right pocket. Magic.”
“Really?” asked the grandfather. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, of course,” said the boy. “Look.”
The boy shoved his hand into his right pocket, pulled out a fist, and opened it to reveal the two coins.
The grandfather sat still without breathing. With fear in his voice, he asked, “How did you do that? What did you do?”
The boy answered simply, “Magic. I made the coins move from this pocket to this one.” The boy pointed at each pocket as he explained.
“But how did you make them move from one pocket to the other one?” asked the grandfather. “I didn’t see you move them with your hands.”
“They moved by magic,” said the boy.
“What magic? How?” asked the grandfather.
“Magic,” said the boy. “You told me a magician would just make the coins move from one pocket to the other. I’m a magician and I made them move. Magic.”
The grandfather remained still and slowly started breathing again.
“Well,” is all the grandfather could say.
“Did I do it right, Granddad?” asked the boy. “Is that how a real magician does it?”
“Yes,” answered the grandfather slowly. He tried to find something else to say. He tried for the next ten years to say something that made sense. The only thing he could tell his grandson was, “Don’t show anyone else your magic.”
That sufficed until the boy moved from child to man.
“Quantum tunneling, Granddad,” said the young man to his grandfather.
“What did you say?” asked the young man’s grandfather as he leaned forward from this recliner.
“I said ‘quantum tunneling’,” repeated the young man. “That is how I move coins from one pocket to another. That is also how I entered your room without opening the door. Psychics call it telekinesis. Physicists call it quantum tunneling. That’s the best physicists can do. I prefer physicists, but they only have a theory so far. No real answer.”
“Magic,” said the grandfather. “You’re still doing magic. Impressive.”
The two remained silent as the grandfather thought quietly. He eventually broke the silence, “Have you told anyone else? Showed anyone else?”
“No, Granddad,” answered the young man.
“That’s wise,” said the old man slowly while breathing heavily between words.
“You’re sick, Granddad,” said the young man.
“Blood clots,” said the old man. “Doc says I, well, have several of them. And,” the old man paused to catch a breath.
“They can’t get them, can they?” said the young man.
The old man confirmed this with a slow blink.
“Here,” said the young man. He opened his left hand and held half a dozen small pieces of what looked like fat. “I’ve got them all.”
The old man stared at his grandson in shock, but not surprise. He took a deep long breath and felt oxygen-rich blood flow like it hadn’t in years. “That’s pretty good magic,” he said finally.
“I know,” said the young man. “I pulled the cancer out of my mother this morning. That was a bit trickier, but I did it. And no, she didn’t realize what I had done. She didn’t know she had cancer, anyhow.”
“So,” said the old man.
“I know Granddad,” said the young man. “We have to figure out what I’m to do now.”
“You could make a lot of money in health care or miracles,” said the grandfather.
“Both,” finished the young man. “The trouble is, I already have all the money I want. I just, well,” he stopped short.
“You just take it,” the old man finished the words this time.
“Yes,” confirmed the young man. “I go places where there is money. I think about it, put my hand in my pocket, and it holds a wad of cash, big bills.”
There was silence for a few moments.
“Would you like some, Granddad?” asked the young man.
“Oh, sure,” answered the old man. “I would like some, but you keep it for now. I really don’t need any extra.”
More silence ensued.
“What have you been doing with this extra money?” asked the old man.
“Mostly holding onto it,” said the young man. “Sometimes I go where the homeless sleep and leave some with them. Sometimes I go to a church and put some in the plate. You know, the little and poor churches. Not the big, rich ones. And sometimes I go to the Golden Corral, eat a steak and a few pieces of pecan pie. That’s about it.”
“Well, not much wrong with that, so far. I wouldn’t mind some pecan pie myself.”
“I can go get you some Granddad,” said the young man.
“Maybe later,” said the old man. “I guess we have to figure out what to do. When you were a little fella, we, had a chance to, but I didn’t know what to do then.”
“And we still don’t know what to do,” answered the young man.
“No, we don’t.” added the old man.
Silence came again.
“Grandson,” said the old man to interrupt the silence. “You are a good man. A fine man. You have an ability. God gave it to you. You are able to do good things for many people. And you are in great danger.”
The young man answered with a twisted expression and bend of his body.
The old man spoke, “If people understand what you can do, they will want you. They will want you bad enough to do terrible things to have you. They will grab you and take you to places to heal people who are important to them. They will then sell you to others in similar places. Then there are those who want to steal, just plain steal. They will want you.”
“I can walk through walls, Granddad,” said the young man.
“There are a lot of walls,” said the old man. “And sometimes people who can’t put up a wall hold up a person. Do this or that or your family is in trouble.”
“Do good, Grandson. Be careful. Be quiet. Come to me when you want to talk, and do good,” he concluded.
The young man stood to leave the room.
“One more thing, Grandson,” said the old man as the young man was about to walk through the wall to leave. “Take these with you.”
“Take what?” asked the young man.
The old man pointed with a nod of his head.
The young man reached his left hand into the left front pocket of his pants.
He pulled two quarters from it.
the end