by Geof Johnson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead) events or locations is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 9781623093440
Copyright © 2012 by Geof Johnson
Printed and bound in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover design: Deborah Smith
Photo credits:
Wizard’s staff © Jamie Steidl | Dreamstime.com
:Lbw:01:
Chapter 1
In the dim candlelight, the unhealing wound on Eddan’s chest looked like a red star, or a tomato that had been dropped from a high building. He remembered doing that once, long ago, in one of his experiments. Splat. Squashed tomato.
The old sorcerer fingered the scab, but the real damage wasn’t to his skin — it was inside, his heart. It was a mystery how his adversary had managed to penetrate Eddan’s shield and wound him: whatever spell he’d used was slowly killing Eddan and none of the counter-spells or potions the old wizard tried had reversed the damage.
That reminds me. He eyed the flask on the bench beside him. Maybe one more sip. He picked it up, held the foul liquid to his lips and swallowed a quick gulp. Ugh. He grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Hope it helps. Just give me three or four more weeks. That should be enough. I can hold out that long.
In their two previous encounters, Eddan had been more than a match for this upstart rival, this nuisance, this slightly insane, over ambitious… magician. That imposter couldn’t possibly qualify as a real wizard, not in so short of a time, not in just a few decades. But something had changed. He had gained some significant advantage and he was dangerous. He had systematically killed the other master sorcerers in the realm until only two remained. And if Eddan’s heart gave out soon, there would be only one.
Instead of donning his familiar robe, Eddan reached for a stack of clothes — Earth clothes, American clothes — and pulled on the long-sleeved shirt and slacks. Slacks. How strange. He was still trying to get used to them. And dress shoes? So uncomfortable. Not like my old soft leather boots.
He appraised himself in the cracked mirror. Not bad. The haircut — he couldn’t remember his last — was passable. The woman in the village had cut his long gray hair above his collar and trimmed his flowing beard so that he looked presentable, he hoped, by American standards. At least no one will think I’m a homeless man. He’d seen plenty of them on his previous trips to Earth.
He made one final look around the cave, his last sanctuary, the only one not discovered and destroyed by his adversary. The enormous stack of books — those he would miss terribly. He poured the remaining lamp oil over them and ignited the pile with three quick blasts from his finger. Better to burn them than allow them to fall into wicked hands. As the flames spread, he outlined the glowing shape of a door in mid-air, picked up his satchel of clothes and another full of gold, and stepped through without looking back. The door winked out behind him and he vanished.
* * *
“We bought a house! We bought a house! Woooo!”
“Carl, roll up the window, you’re embarrassing me,” Rachel said. “And you’re letting all the hot air in.”
“Ah, come on, Honey, let’s celebrate. We bought a house!” He stuck his head out of the car again, grinning in the North Carolina sunshine. “Woooo!”
“Stop!” But she was laughing.
“I’ll stop when you do it, too.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Then I’m gonna keep doing it.” He turned his head away.
“Okay, okay. Before you get us killed.” She rolled down her passenger window. “We bought a house.”
“Louder.”
She looked at Carl. He turned again and said, “I’m gonna yell.”
“Okay! We bought a house!” She looked back at Carl. “Satisfied?”
“That’s more like it. Let’s go out to dinner tonight and really celebrate.”
“Honey, we’re broke. We spent everything we have on the down payment today.”
“Let’s put it on the credit card. It’s not every day that we buy a house.”
“Okay…I want to celebrate, too.” She chewed a fingernail. “Today’s Wednesday. Do you think we can be ready to move by Saturday?”
“Oh sure.” Carl nodded. “I’ll get a couple of my buddies to help that morning. It’s not like we have a lot of stuff.”
“Yeah. It’s going to be strange, going from that little one-bedroom apartment to a big house.” She sighed and looked at the scenery rolling by. “Do you believe the real estate agent? About the old man selling us the house cheap because he wanted a nice couple to buy it?”
“I don’t know, but the house is worth a lot more than we’re paying, that’s for sure. The yard alone makes it worth a ton. It’s a kid’s paradise.”
“It sure is.” She put her hand on Carl’s arm. “How long do you think it’s going to be before we have enough money to adopt a baby?”
“Two years, maybe. We still have to buy furniture for the dining room and spare bedroom.” He tapped the steering wheel and worked his jaw. “I’ll probably regret doing it, but I’ll talk to my parents and see if they still want to help. They really want grandkids.”
“It’s too bad we wasted so much money on the fertility treatments. We could’ve adopted by now.”
“Well, you know what they say about hindsight. But we bought a house, right?” Carl rolled his window down again and glanced at his wife. “One more time? Let’s do it together.”
She looked at him dubiously for a moment before rolling down her window. “Okay.” Together they yelled, “We bought a house!”
* * *
Eddan stood in the backyard and inspected his handiwork. The numbers on the flat stone were clearly readable, so he willed the surface of it to harden again. He especially liked the map of Switzerland he had carved beside the numbers. Not bad, for a pocket knife and a little will power. Satisfied, he flicked his finger and the stone flew from his hand and buried itself in the ground.
I’ve got a good feeling about that young couple. I think I made the right choice. He chuckled and shook his head. They sure were excited at closing today. I can see why they called it a kid’s paradise, though. It’s beautiful here.
The afternoon sun filtering through the tall trees created dappled patterns on the lush grass. Dark green camellia bushes lined both sides of the yard, and the deck on the back of the house offered a commanding view. The spacious lawn gradually rolled off into a wooded, natural area with a creek. The creek was the prize. With minnows, frogs, and snakes, it promised adventure for any young boy or girl. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before slowly releasing it. Even though summer was nearly over, he smelled sweet flowers blooming nearby.
He took a final look around and thought, Okay. I’m ready.
He lay flat on the grass, arms and legs spread wide, and slowly melted his essence into the ground, until nothing remained but his clothes.
* * *
Renn the Sorcerer held the dragon’s head staff before him, slowly probing the recesses of the cave with the red beams that radiated from the dragon’s stone eyes. A few tell-tale sparkles of after-magic glittered in the air. He said, “What do you think, Rovann? How long ago was he he
re?”
The staff didn’t answer. It never did.
“I feel his magic, faintly. He used it here, I’m sure. But where did the old man go?”
He toed the pile of burned debris. “He has found another hidey-hole, but was in a hurry, if he left behind his beloved books.”
He extinguished the glow from the staff. “But no matter. We’ll find the old has-been, and he can join the others on the list of the dead.”
His purple cloak twirled on the dusty floor as he stamped the staff on the floor and vanished.
* * *
Kindergarten kids are loud, sticky, and stinky. Rachel Sikes knew this from personal experience because she taught them. They were especially loud this early in the year, October, when they were still babies. By the end of the year they would be so different you’d hardly know it was the same bunch. They would be almost first graders, all grown up.
They could be sweet and wonderful, too, which is why she loved teaching them instead of slightly sour older kids. Elementary kids started out as M & Ms and ended up, by fifth grade, as lemon drops. Rachel taught third graders for one year, and found them to be in between — more like Sweet Tarts.
That morning, Wesley Bowden had wet himself, again, and Rachel had to take him to the bathroom to change clothes while her aide watched the class. She held his hand gently as they walked down the hall, though she was mad enough to throttle him. Then he looked up at her with his sweet face and said, “Mrs. Sikes, when I grow up, I’m gonna be a teacher so I can work here and be with you every day.” She cried a little while he changed pants in the boys’ bathroom.
Later, there was a fire drill, Jenny Wallace threw up, two kids forgot their backpacks, everybody needed to have their shoes tied, and on and on. All she wanted to do when she got to her car was go straight home and crash on the sofa in front of the TV, but she needed to stop at the drugstore first.
* * *
Carl stood in the empty dining room after work, hands on his hips. I can probably build furniture for in here cheaper than we can buy it, but I’ve got to talk Rachel into letting me buy some tools, first.
He walked through the kitchen and hung his gun holster on a chair, then he found Rachel in the family room, horizontal on the couch, watching television.
“How was your day?” he said.
“Tiring, same as always. How was yours?”
“Fine.” Maybe this is a good time to ask. “You know how we’ve been talking about getting furniture for the dining room?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Wouldn’t it be a great idea if I built some?”
“Can you do that?”
“Sure, but I’d need a couple of new tools, first.”
“Such as?”
“A planer/jointer, and probably a lathe.”
“How much would those cost?”
“Four thousand, maybe less.”
Rachel held up a white plastic stick. “We might want to hold off on that for awhile.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A home pregnancy test.”
“A what?” Carl heard her, but it hadn’t registered.
“A home pregnancy test.”
Carl stood open mouthed, stunned. When he got his wits back, he said, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“I did it three times.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Carl pumped both fists in the air, spun around and said, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Rachel stood and put her arms around her gyrating husband.
“How can that be?” he said. “No, it’s wonderful. It’s incredible! But I thought you couldn’t, the doctors said…you know….”
“I guess they were wrong.”
“But how did you know? It’s not like you missed your period or something. You hardly ever have one.”
“I’m not sure.” She put her hands on his waist and looked up at him. “Something just made me…I don’t know. I don’t really feel different. It was like I just knew.” She pulled her face tight to his chest. “I’ll make an appointment with my doctor tomorrow and we’ll find out for sure. But I think I am…we are…you know what I mean.”
He stroked his wife’s head. “This is the second best day of my life.”
“And what was the first?”
“The day we got married.”
“Good answer.”
Chapter 2
“Carl, are you awake?” Rachel asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I had another weird dream.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven.”
“You’re not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?”
“It was about the old man again.”
“I guess that means no.”
“You know, the man who sold us the house, only his hair and beard were longer.”
Carl pretended to snore. It didn’t do any good.
Rachel patted his shoulder. “Isn’t that strange? That’s about the third or fourth time I’ve dreamed about him.”
“Okay, I give up. What was he doing?”
“Mostly just smiling.”
“You woke me up to tell me that?”
“Well, it was more than that. He seemed…happy. Or grateful. Like he was really glad about something.”
“That guy was a weirdo.”
“He was just eccentric. I thought he was nice.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that he left his clothes in the backyard?”
“We don’t know those were his.”
“They’re the same ones he wore at the closing. I notice things like that. I’m a detective.”
“You know, it was odd that they were laid out like that, like a scarecrow minus the stuffing.”
“Yeah, shoes and all.” Carl rolled onto his side and faced the wall. “Goodnight.”
“We need to get up. We’ve got to clean the house before your parents get here.”
“Dang, I forgot,” he said. “Are we going to tell them about the baby?”
“I want to. I’m about eleven weeks along, and everything still looks good.”
“When are you going to tell your mom?”
“I’ll call her today. If we tell your parents, we should tell her, too. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t.”
* * *
Carl and his father, Pete, looked around the empty dining room.
“When do you plan to put some furniture in here?” Pete asked.
“Money’s kinda tight right now.”
“If you had gone into the medical supply business with me, that wouldn’t be a problem.”
Carl ground his teeth. His father never missed a chance to get that dig in.
“Oh, I forgot — you want to catch the bad guys, and all that,” Pete said.
Carl walked away from his father back before he said something he might regret.
* * *
Carl’s mother, Darla, and Rachel were sitting at the small kitchen table when the two men walked in. Pete sat down and said, “I was just asking Carl about the dining room furniture. If you can’t afford it right now, we’d be glad to help you out.”
Carl scowled. “We don’t want your —”
“Carl, I think that’s a great idea,” Darla said. “We haven’t bought you a house warming gift yet. That would be perfect, don’t you think?”
“That’s very generous of you,” Rachel said, “but we have something else we need more than dining room furniture.”
“Are you going to tell them?” Carl said. “You got to tell your mother. It’s my turn.”
“Tell us what?” Darla asked.
“We’re going to have a baby,” Carl said. “Rachel’s pregnant.”
Darla put her hands to her face with delight as her husband clapped his hands. “That’s wonderful!” sh
e said. “But how? When are you due?”
“We did it the old fashioned way,” Carl said. “The doctor said it’s a miracle.”
“And the baby’s due in late June or early July,” Rachel added.
“In that case, we can buy nursery furniture and dining room furniture.” Pete nodded.
“Yes, it can be our house warming gift and baby gift.” Darla squeezed Rachel’s hand and smiled, her perfect teeth were dazzling white.
Carl started to object, but Rachel shot him a glance that said, “This is no time for stubborn pride.”
She looked back at her in-laws. “Thank you. That would be wonderful of you to do that.”
“Then it’s settled,” Darla said. “I’ll pick you up next Saturday and we can go to Pete’s cousin’s store.” Carl’s father had more cousins than a mutt has fleas.
“Yeah, he’ll give us a good discount,” Pete said.
Great, Carl thought. Now the whole town will think I have to sponge off my parents just to furnish my house.
* * *
Evelyn Wallace put down her Bible. She was too distracted to read, too excited about the news. Her first grandchild! God had answered her prayers, because this was surely a miracle. The doctors had told Rachel that she couldn’t get pregnant, but Evelyn had kept the faith and now she would be rewarded with a treasure beyond imagining.
Evelyn looked around her small living room. Rachel and Carl had driven the three hours from Hendersonville to help her move into the condominium after Rachel’s father died. She’d love to live closer to her daughter, but she couldn’t quite get herself to leave Greensboro, though if Rachel asked for her help when the baby came, she’d be there in a heartbeat. A mother-in-law suite couldn’t be much smaller than her tiny condo, and she’d be there with her grandchild. Plus, she was sure she could get Rachel and Carl to start going to church again.
Evelyn picked up her Bible and hummed one of her favorite hymns.
* * *
Most kindergarten kids love babies. And by springtime, when her belly was huge, all of Rachel’s kindergarteners wanted to feel hers. When it got to be too much, she decided to make it a privilege. If you had a good day, you got to feel the baby. Classroom behavior improved dramatically. She did find an occasion to make an exception to her rule, though.
