The Magic Lantern Show
A man gets more than he bargained for when he steps out to the theater
London, 1840
A Night Out
“I do enjoy a night away from the children,” said Clara excitedly. “Do you suppose Nanny will remember to give Lawrence his teddy at bedtime? He can’t sleep without it.”
“I suppose he will,” said Lawrence, distantly. He was thinking of ledger books and statutes, and, with every step he advanced, there seemed to be ever in the background the scratching of a quill on parchment, as though the Almighty himself were scribbling the story of himself and Clara, of the children and their toys, and that, at some distant time, he should wake and find that his entire existence were nothing else but the waggish fancy of a very whimsical and self-indulgent Creator. And then what should he do, but be obliged to bow and smile and murmur “at your service” to such a Being, and start all over again, in infancy, in adolescence, or even in middle age (a sort of medias res), enacting whatever arbitrary and stupid plotline was created for him?
What a fantastic idea, he thought to himself, not a little admiringly, (a sort of sly elbow to the ribs, from self to self). Then, abruptly, he stifled a yawn. He was sorry he agreed to the outing; it might easily have been avoided, but Clara had sprung it on him before he could think up a…
