Shelly-Ann Harris, JIS Writer
Merick Panton (left) poses with a colleague during one of his magic shows in London, England. - JIS Photo
His large hands moved smoothly and swiftly, disguising unbelievable illusions. But, there was no abracadabra to seal the deal; the native, "irie!", does the trick.
Merick 'The Nutty Professor' Panton of Alligator Pond in Manchester puts needles and reels of thread into his mouth and swallows them with a refreshing glass of water.
And if that weren't incredible enough, he casually brings them back up. No blood, no injury.
"In Jamaica, when you work tricks, people say yuh a work obeah and yuh a work voodoo; but it's nothing like that, they are all just tricks," joked Panton.
With the diction and candour of a good teacher, he explains, "It's the way you perform a trick to make it look real, that's the magic; the magic is in the performance."
Panton has spent many moons refining the talent of enchanting audiences, a skill he learned from colleague magicians, both locally and overseas.
Abandoned buildings
But when he was younger, he was just a common street boy in Kingston.
At 10 years old, Panton, who was abused by a leader in the community, ran away from home. He spent many nights sleeping on concrete floors in old, abandoned buildings and his days begging strangers for money.
Desperation wouldn't steal all his values.
"I never did drugs and I never steal." However, Panton did confess that he "tricked people".
In 1979, young Panton would hang out by the Carib cinema in Cross Roads, St Andrew. "This guy, Skinny Boo, who used to do tricks out there to get money ... he's the first person I saw that did tricks and he taught me a couple," Panton shared.
He was quick to add a deceitful dimension to his "performance" - pretending to be deaf and dumb. "I really liked that 'cause people use to give me money at that time," Panton explained.
But conning the kind-hearted would soon bring Panton in conflict with the law. By the time he was 17, the con artiste was arrested.
"I went to prison twice for my con games. The first time I went to prison was in 1987 in Port Antonio ... and later in Negril in 1990," he recalled. On each occasion, he did three months.
The minute he was free, his old tricks were also unleashed. For him, however, it was about survival. Still spending a lot of time in tourist areas, Panton found his way on to a beach at a prominent hotel on the north coast. In no time, word got around about his ability to charm the tourists with his performances.
When one hotel learned of his skills, he was hired to put a show together, which brought in his first pay cheque of $3,000.
His stage name at the time was Professor Son, based on the fact that he was the only son for his mom. Eventually, the name would change to the more catchy 'The Nutty Professor'.
Off season
In addition to several hotel contracts, the now-accomplished magician started doing big events, the biggest being the Jamaica Tourist Board's Ocho Rios Street Jam and the Turner Network Television (TNT) show at James Bond Beach, in St Mary (1995/1996). He also steadily spent "12 years at the Franklin D Resort doing magic every Friday night".
The Nutty Professor's slight British accent tells the story of a few years spent in London where he further sharpened his skills. Since his return to the island in 2007, he has done fun days for Sandals and Hedonism, and recently he performed at the New Year's Eve party at Tryall in Hanover and shared a few laughs with the prime minister.
Unlike his street-boy days, Panton isn't picking up spare coins for his tricks. The talented magician commands $10,000 to $50,000 per booking, depending on the function.
However, during his 'off-season', you can find the six-footer donned in bright performance colours at notable seafood restaurant, Little Ochie, in Alligator Pond, on most days. There, he has patrons mesmerised by his tricks, which he performs for free.
Panton's sister, Claudette, a pastor, agrees that "he is very good", but had a confession to make.
Soft-hearted
"I'm afraid of him, because I don't want him to make me lay any eggs," she laughed heartily at the thought. "My brother is a loving, kind person, very soft-hearted, he always likes to help. It was very painful for me when he lived on the streets. I remember at one time he saw me and he pretended that he didn't know me."
Today, she is grateful that he is safe, happy and productive.
"Thank God he fared well, he's my only brother and I love him very much," she shared with deep emotion.
The former street boy feels obligated to give back to the community.
"Because of the way I grew up ... people always giving me things, I'm now trying to give back. Not because you see a young man on the street begging, don't turn a blind eye. If you can support them, support them," he appealed.
This feature is a special collaboration between the Jamaica Information Service and The Gleaner.