Acts of Violet(76)



“Okay, fair enough.” He rubs his knees and looks at me sideways. “It’s not like those are your only options, though.”

“No offense, but the only options I’m interested in right now are the ones that involve me going home.” I uncross my arms and stand up. “It might be too much to ask for this to be off the record, but—ouch!” Something angular embeds itself into the arch of my socked foot. I sit back down and bring my heel across my knee, expecting to retrieve a pebble or tack of some sort. “Are you fucking kidding me,” I mutter, pinching a small hair clip between my thumb and forefinger. It’s black and plastic and shaped like a butterfly. Violet owned hundreds like it back in the day.

“What is it?” Cameron leans in but I close my fingers around the clip before he spots it.

“It’s nothing. Or maybe it’s something. I don’t know…”

Something thaws within me. This little plastic butterfly, along with the twos and the swans, the series of synchronicities littering my path … it’s all so maddening. Even though part of me wants to dismiss it as nonsense, deep down, I can’t help but find something lovely about it, too.

“I’ll think about being on your podcast. For real. In the meantime…” I fight an onslaught of reluctance and quickly lose. “You think you can set up a meeting for me and Antoinette?”




FAX COVER SHEET

April 28, 2003

Violet,

Thanks for offering to look after Quinn these next two weeks. I’m sure she’ll have a blast with you. And it’ll be good for Sasha to have this time to get back on her feet.

Here’s the release form you requested. I still don’t love the idea of our daughter appearing on TV, but if you say it’ll be a fun surprise for Sasha, I’ll take you at your word. Remember: nothing crazy!

—Gabriel




www.viewology.com

Roses Are Red, Violet Is Red-Hot

By Noriko Tomlin

MAY 7, 2003

My Violet Volk obsession/girl crush was born when I saw her Vegas show a few years ago. After that, I’d TiVo every one of her TV specials and random appearances (I still cry every time I see that clip of her surprising the boy with the brain tumor at his elementary school graduation). My friends joked about restraining orders when they saw my bedroom covered with magazine pics of Violet, but I’m not the stalking type. I just thought she was a badass chick taking over a male-centric industry and giving it a much-needed makeover. I mean, how could you not love her style? She was like the Gen-X love child of Morticia Addams and Liberace. The woman wore a dress made out of playing cards to the Oscars! (Confession: when I got married last year, I wore red glitter lipstick and rhinestone butterfly hair clips in tribute to VV.)

It drove me nuts that Violet didn’t give interviews, though I also kinda loved it. I didn’t love when she announced a hiatus from magic, though. Did that mean I’d have to go back to watching cheesy guys in leather pants making scantily clad girls disappear? Ugh, no thank you. A year passed with no word from Violet and the whole world began to feel so blah. And then BAM! A VV book announcement! BAM! A VV tour announcement! BAM! A VV cover story in PopArk! BAM! A VV appearance on LateFridayLive!

I haven’t read the book yet (spoiler alert: I’m gonna love it) but I’ve maxed out two credit cards getting tickets to see her in multiple cities (whatever “an evening of magical inspiration” means, I’m in!). I’ve also framed the PopArk cover (whoever came up with the idea of putting her in a neon electric chair is a friggin’ genius) and I’ve watched her LateFridayLive segment like ten times since it aired yesterday.

First of all, let’s talk about the costume. I don’t know what I’m more enamored with: the silver catsuit or that black cage skirt she wore over it. Second of all, how adorable is her niece? I died when she came out in a matching outfit, down to the sparkly red lips. Too cute!

Then there was the illusion itself, which was pretty much the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. I was in tears just from the pep talk Violet gave her niece, about how she can be anything she wants to be, and not to put any limits on herself. And then you have this precious little girl say she wants to be an angel and a mermaid, but her mother tells her those are both impossible. And while everyone watching is reaching for the tissues, Violet tells Quinn that her mother is wrong, that nothing is impossible.

I’m getting goose bumps remembering it, and I didn’t even get to the magic yet!

Here it comes, though. After Violet says nothing is impossible, both she and the little girl start floating up. First, they’re just hovering a few inches above the stage, then a foot. The girl says she’s scared, and Violet tells her she shouldn’t be, because she’s an angel. A second later, the girl sprouts wings (where did they come from??) and flies like fifteen feet into the air. She gasps, laughing in pure delight. Now this is motherfucking magic.

My jaw’s already on the floor at this point, but Violet is still hovering a foot off the ground, chill as can be, while her niece is way above her. At this point, Quinn starts looking pretty freaked-out, but Violet reassures her, as a humongous tank of water is wheeled onto the stage, that if she gets tired of flying, she can stop anytime she wants to because the girl is not only an angel but also a mermaid. All of a sudden, there’s a huge explosion and all you can see is a cloud of feathers and glitter and all you can hear is this little girl screaming before she splashes into the water, which is now bubbling like a massive Jacuzzi. There are flashes of the girl’s dark hair and silver leotard, and it seems like she’s struggling in this tank and—holy shit, is she going to drown?

Margarita Montimore's Books