Charles McVansen stood alone in the green room, waiting for his chance to shine on stage. Ten yards away, through two walls and a curtain, the Las Vegas audience roared with applause. The current performer had completed his act. The roof-shaking noise sent vibrations throughout Charles’ body, but he knew it was not the reason for his trembling hands.
Charles thought about why he was here, and how he had gotten here. It had never occurred to him that he would be standing here now. He had always dreamed about this moment, but he never believed he would live it.
Charles remembered entering into the tricky world of magic at the age of seven. His grandfather, who was once a stage hand for the great Harry Houdini, had told him stories of Houdini’s incredible feats of magic. Charles listened to these stories, and spent hours trying to figure out how Harry would pull the tricks off. He would replay the stories in his mind, over and over. His grandfather wouldn’t tell him how Harry did it, he would only give him clues. Charles had to learn the hard way. Nevertheless, his eagerness for magic would lead him down a path where few traveled, and that even fewer understood.
Charles began to practice his magic. When he was just 11 years old, he performed his first show on stage. It seemed so long ago to Charles now. His performance was at a local bar; his father was with him of course. He produced a few dazzling card tricks, and made a dove appear out of thin air. Charles left a good impression with his audience. The bar’s owner, who had also witnessed Charles’ show, invited him back for the next week. So, Charles performed the next week, and it soon became a regular occurrence. Most days, after people watched Charles’ show, they would leave the tavern completely clueless.
Charles had always struggled through school. He was not very bright. His lack of mental capacity, as well as his obsession with magic, drew much ridicule from the other kids. Charles always felt this pain, and carried a chip on his shoulder because of it. However, Charles soon learned to ignore his persecutors, and work towards his goals.
Inspired by his successful performances at the bar, Charles fell more in love with magic. So, he decided to pursue it as a career. In the meantime, though, he needed money. He gladly took a part time job performing magic at parties, and ran errands for his elderly, neighbor lady. Between the time he spent performing at parties, working for his neighbor, and school, Charles practiced. He practiced until the sun went down, and rose again. Throughout his practicing, he would always keep in mind the quote, “practice makes perfect.” This quote he held close to his heart, for he knew it to be true.
Graduation came and went, and Charles set out for New York City. There, he had planned to get a job, and establish himself as a professional magician. It had been his lifelong dream. It was only then, however, that he realized there were hundreds of other aspiring magicians. All of them also waiting for their shot at glory. Charles took this as a challenge to become the best there was.
Charles was snapped back to reality by the sound of the stage manager’s voice. “You’re up next, Charles!” he rasped. The manager’s stubby little head was protruding into the green room. Charles’ heart skipped a beat, and his breathing quickened. His hands shook again, and he stood up. Charles moved toward the bathroom, inside he turned on the water. Very slowly, and deliberately, he washed his hands. He recalled his grandfather telling him that washing his hands slowly, would bring down his nerves, and keep his hands from shaking. As he stood there at the sink, his mind again drifted back to the past.
Charles remembered getting the call. The call from the prestigious New York theater, wanting him to audition for his first professional performance. Charles was excited, and he arrived the next week for the audition. Afterward, he waited days for a response. He finally received a letter. It said he could have a thirty-minute slot one Friday night. Charles waited anxiously for that day. He hardly slept, always preparing what he would say and do. However, the day before his performance, his show was canceled. Charles was devastated, he couldn’t believe it. He realized though, that this was just a minor setback. He wasn’t going to let this stop him, and he practiced like never before.
It was only two day later, that he got the real call…the call from the talent scout who saw his New York audition…the call that wanted him to work his magic in a Las Vegas theater. The next day, Charles departed from his New York apartment, and hopped aboard a private plane. He was on his way to Las Vegas. When he first stepped off the plane, onto that Las Vegas airstrip, he knew it was where he belonged. This was where he would make a name for himself. This, was why he was backstage now.
Charles turned off the faucet, and dried his hands very slowly on the soft towel. He could hear the performer on stage wrapping up his show. He sauntered back into the green room. The stage manager’s head again popped into the room. “You’re up Charles!” he chimed. Charles walked reluctantly, and anxiously, into the hallway. He paused, and waited for his name to be called. His body trembled, and he took a few deep breaths to calm down. His heart was racing, but his mind slowed as if it was trudging through mud. Charles thought back to his Grandfather’s most favorite saying: “Work hard, don’t quit, and the rest will fall into place.” Charles remembered that quote as his name was called, and he took his first steps onto the open Las Vegas stage.