“I can’t stand this too long,” Ray said to the little girl. “Do you see Bianca anywhere?”
“I don’t know,” Mariana said, looking around her with her brow furrowed. About six, she resembled one of those expensive china dolls with shiny black hair and big, round, black eyes. Tears were leaking down her cheeks. Ray knew exactly how she felt. He was trying not to think of the fate of the poor animals here who didn’t have owners dedicatedly looking for them.
“How come your folks wouldn’t take you down here to look?” Ray asked.
“Qué?”
Ray hunkered down in front of her. “Porqué, ah, nuts, sus padres no buscan en aquí?” he asked, wishing he remembered more Spanish from language class.
“No sé,” Mariana said. “Ellos no quieren mi perrita.” She started to cry in earnest, and Ray felt in his pocket for some tissues. Nothing. She’d used all of his up crying when she had told Ray and Rose her story at home. He glanced up at Rose, who nodded at him significantly. He clutched his wand. Okay, magic, he thought to himself, this is for a child in need who asked for my help. Got any Kleenex?
Suddenly, his shirt pocket sagged. He felt in it, and came up with a handful of white tissues. Thanks, he said silently, handing a bundle to Mariana. She buried her whole face in the tissues, sobbing. Ray stroked her hair and waited for her to surface. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Ray’s heart went out to her. He was almost ready to cry, too.
“Come on,” he said, standing up and taking her hand. “Las policías will be back. We’ve got to look.”
The girl looked alarmed. “Las policías!” She cast around, terrified.
“Nothing to worry about,” Ray said. “They’re not here. Come on.”
He didn’t know how Mariana distinguished one bark from another, but she must have. As they started into the last row, the girl’s eyes widened, and she actually smiled.
“Bianca!” she shrilled, her voice carrying over the solid wall of barking. “Es Bianca!”
At the end of the row, three cages away from a stained door, one bark turned to frenzied yapping. Bianca, a small white mutt, started throwing herself violently at the cage front. Mariana let go of Ray, and flew down the aisle. She plastered herself against the wire cage, as the dog jumped up and down, licking her small mistress’s face over and over. Ray looked to his left. All the cages next to Bianca’s were empty. They had saved the pooch just in time.
“Whew!” Ray said, his shoulders sagging. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here!”
Another brownie point popped up bright and clear in his mind’s eye when they dropped the jubilant child and her wiggling dog off at the small house on the west side of the city. Ray mentally shoved it to one side, refusing to take any joy out of a trip to a house of horror like the pound. He couldn’t even work up enthusiasm for getting to fly all the way to Mariana’s neighborhood, into the city for the dog, and out again, instead of staying in his home turf, as he’d once complained to Rose. Sure, he knew that animals were thrown out of their homes to starve. Sure, he knew people who refused to be responsible for spaying their pets, or couldn’t afford the operation. It depressed him to have the situation shoved in his face.
Rose held out her wand to feel for need strings.
“Aha! I found one that’s almost all the way home. Very convenient. I don’t want to walk all the way, and I’m sure you don’t.” She looked at Ray, and let the wand drop to her side.
“Honey, talk to me. You’re sulking.”
“I’m not sulking,” Ray shouted. “I’m just not talking. That was a heavy situation.”
“I know. It happens. I hate to see it myself. It’s hard to take comfort in one little doggie going home when the others … well, you know.”
“Yeah.” Ray looked around for a stone to kick. There were none on the pavement anywhere close. He saw a cigarette butt in the grass, and kicked that, instead. Two steps later, his feet were above the ground and rising. The magic swept them swiftly over rows of apartment houses, knots of expressways full of honking cars, and more houses. To his right he saw the skyscrapers of the Loop. They were traveling almost at eye level with the antennae on top of the Hancock Building and the Sears Tower. They flew over Wrigley Field, a cup of light in the middle of the surrounding neighborhood, just in time to see the graphics on the electronic scoreboard explode into stars and patterns for a home run. He could hear the cheers. Ray watched it all rush past him without a word. Part of his mind was appalled at him for being unable to enjoy it.
“Come on,” Rose said, as they arrived back on Glenwood Avenue, not far from the Assembly Hall. But she didn’t look all that enthusiastic about hurrying to another appointment. For a change she didn’t go striding off.
“You need a little break,” she said kindly. “So do I. You can come with me while I run an errand.”
“Errands,” Ray grumbled. He loped along behind her. His nice pants weren’t as good for slouching as his baggies. He couldn’t walk hunched over with his fists in his pockets without cutting off the circulation to his legs. Rose walked briskly. Eventually, he had to straighten up and hustle to keep up with her. She turned a corner.
“Where are we going?” Ray asked. This time he didn’t even have a need string to help him guess their destination.
“My kitchen light finally gave up,” Rose said. “I want something new and bright. I’ve promised myself one of those combination fixtures with the fan underneath. Ah, here we go.”
Ray hated to guess the electric bill the owners of Enlightenment must pay every year. Or what it cost them to replace panes of glass. If he’d been a different kind of person, those huge, immaculately clean, plate windows would have been irresistible targets. Inside, thousands of lights of every kind glowed golden and white. The customers and staff were only dark blobs of shadow. Ray jumped forward to pull open the door for Rose.
“Thank you, sweetheart. It’s nice to have gentlemen around one, isn’t it?”
Rose sailed past him into the shop. A motion detector in the door announced their presence with an electronic tweetle. The place smelled heavily of dust, polish, hot metal, and chemicals. At once, a beautifully groomed man in a perfect charcoal gray suit became visible between all those lamps, and swooped down on them.
“Good evening, madam and sir!” he said. He smiled at Rose, up at Ray, and went back at Rose. Ray thought defensive, anti-racist thoughts at him for a moment, then realized of the two the older woman was more likely to be buying light fixtures than the teenaged boy, and this man knew it. “How may I serve you this evening?”
“I’d like to see a combination light and fan for my kitchen,” Rose told him. The man ushered them both toward one side of the store. As the man talked, Ray began to distinguish departments in what looked like a single mass of lights. Formal living room lights, casual lamps, illuminated sculpture, and glowing fountains were all grouped artistically together so a customer didn’t have to charge all over to compare items. He liked best a hanging lamp probably intended for a family room. It was a long rectangular box made of patinaed bronze and green glass shades. Then something about the design made him think it was too sophisticated for a family room, but he really liked it.
“How much is this?” he asked, when the man paused for breath.
“Two hundred forty dollars,” the owner answered, turning his full attention to the young man.
“Oh, well,” Ray said, with a sigh. “Maybe someday.”
The man gave him a chummy smile, one that said “you and I know something everyone else doesn’t.” “Do you like it?”
Ray glanced up at the hanging lamp, and admired the way the colors in the metal picked up the tone of the glass. “Yes, I do. It’s … subtle.”
“You’re very perceptive,” the man said. “Few people your age would even notice it. I hope someday you can buy it.” He swung back to Rose and resumed his description of a fancy white-enameled fixture. Ray let him babble on for a while, then wandered the store. A girl b
ehind the counter gave him a wary smile in return for his friendly one. She glanced up to the right toward the ceiling. Ray guessed that security cameras were watching them both. He kept his hands hooked in plain sight on the edge of his pockets.
“Raymond?” Rose called to him. He hurried back to her, carefully squeezing between the display of standing floor lamps. As he got closer, that chemical smell that had been bothering him became stronger. He wondered if the man was wearing too much of a new kind of yuppie cologne. In any case, it offended his nose.
Rose looked a little uncomfortable. She moved alongside Ray and tucked her arm into his. “What do you think of this one?” she asked, nodding up at a beechwood-stained wooden fan with five lights pointing in five directions.
“Nice, I guess,” he said.
“Good. I’ll take it,” she told the proprietor. Ray tried to shake loose, but Rose held on tight. He was surprised to see fear in her eyes.
The man rang up the sale and agreed to have the box delivered.
“My neighbor will take in the box if I’m not home,” Rose said. “That’s fine. Thank you. Come on, Raymond. We’d better go.”
“Thank you, ma’am, sir,” the man called, as they hurried out of the shop, weaving an intricate dance between the lamps to take the shortest path to the exit. Rose practically towed Ray out the door. The electric eye tweetled at them again. “Come again!”
She led him out across the street, almost under the wheels of a van that screeched to a halt. The driver rolled down his window and shouted at them over the roar of his air-conditioning system. Ray glanced back, giving an apologetic shrug, but the man had already closed his window, muttering to himself under his breath.
Once they were a safe distance from the shop, Rose stopped and took a couple of deep breaths, bracing herself against a light pole.
“Are you okay?” Ray asked, concerned. “I’ve never seen you run away from anything before.” If she was going to have a heart attack, his CPR was a little rusty. He leaned close to get a good look at her in the poor light. Her color was all right, and so were her pupils. The red blotches on her cheeks were from exertion out in the hot night air, not circulatory distress.
“Whew!” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “It was whatever was in that shop. I was all right for a while, but then I just had to get out of there. I felt like someone was chasing me.”
“I don’t know about that, but did you notice the smell? I don’t know what he used to clean those lamps, but it R-E-E-K-S.” Ray looked at Rose. Her lips were pressed together.
“That was evil,” she said at last. “You wanted to know what bad magic smells like? That’s it. I didn’t like that man, either. He was too smooth. Ecch.”
Ray reviewed the proprietor’s looks. He had tried too hard to be friendly and suave, but most salespeople didn’t know when to back off. There was something oily about him. Ray thought again about the expensive, fashionable suit, then concluded he wouldn’t like to touch it, not after that man had had it on. And the guy kept shooting his cuffs, like he was hiding illicit aces up his sleeve.
“Yeah, he was creepy. You mean he’s practicing bad magic?”
Rose tilted her head, and gave a wry grin. She was recovering. “Maybe not. Remember, I told you there were natural magicians around? He might be one of them, not even know he’s giving off the signs. Nice place, though. I was glad to find what I wanted so close to home. Very good selection.”
“Yeah,” Ray said, thinking of the art lamp with affection. Maybe someday I’ll get you out of there, pretty thing.
“Ah!” Rose said, stretching out her arms. “I feel better. How about you? Did the break do you some good?”
Ray thought about it for a moment. The horror inherent in rescuing Mariana’s dog had lessened already. He could think of the circumstances with distaste and regret, but it no longer crippled him. He felt much, much better. His natural humor was recovering.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I guess a change was good. Hey,” he said slyly, to break the tension, “I just thought of a movie the two of us can be in together.”
Rose’s lips twisted in a maternal half smile. “And what’s that?”
“Driving Miss Tinkerbell.”
Rose laughed. “As long as we’re talking movie magic, I prefer Top Wand,” she said, and Ray groaned, but playfully. “You see,” she continued, drawing the picture for Ray with her hands as they walked down the street, “the Fairy Godparent Squadron, in order to win their lacy little wings.…”
Chapter 15
With bounce restored to his step, Ray walked Rose back to her apartment. The night was fine and so clear he could actually see a few stars out toward the lake in spite of the overpowering light pollution of the city. Kids were chasing each other across the front of the yards and in between parked cars. Boys and girls his own age hung out near the street, gabbing about something in loud voices. A couple of young mothers sat on a concrete stoop, pushing their baby carriages gently with one hand to soothe the sleeping infants inside as they chatted softly. A male tooth fairy, hurrying purposefully up the street, carrying one of the oddly shaped white briefcases, gave them a quick salute as he passed.
“It feels good out tonight,” Ray said, getting a faint echo of agreement from his wand, now nestled safely in his shirt pocket. “Peaceful. This is the best of summer. It’s times like this when I really love the city.”
“Me, too,” Rose said, smiling around. One of the mothers glanced up as they passed and waved to Rose. She waved back. “You have the leisure to observe and react at your own pace, meet your neighbors, take care of little things, without the cold wind hammering at you. In summer people don’t get so mean about parking spaces, either. Tell me how things work out with Chanel, won’t you?”
Ray jumped. He’d forgotten all about having come crying to Rose that afternoon, and for three days it had been the most important thing on his mind.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Rose said, watching his face. “I’m glad you feel you can ask me for help. You know, Ray, you can call me anytime if you need to. I’d be happy to help you work through any problems, anything at all. You have one of my cards, don’t you?” Ray shook his head. Rose looked shocked. “You don’t? How remiss of me.” She pushed through the debris in her purse until she found her little card case. She tucked one of the pasteboard squares in his hand and clasped his fingers with hers. “You’re not too old to need a fairy godmother yourself, honey.”
“I’d rather do it for other kids,” Ray said. “You know, I read the manual over the weekend.”
“You did!” Rose exclaimed, pleased beyond words. “There are people who’ve been in this organization fifty years who haven’t cracked the spine! My goodness, you’re dedicated.”
“Well, I like to be prepared for situations,” Ray said, then he remembered something else, and was suddenly slapped by a wave of guilt. “Uh, what happened to the need string that got us back to the neighborhood?” he asked, feeling a little ashamed of himself for dragging them off the scent of a child in need.
“It’s okay,” Rose said. “We’re not the only FGs working this patch. Someone else took care of it. There’ll be more for us next time.”
“Tomorrow?” Ray asked hopefully, although he knew it was unlikely he’d get two days of magic-making in a row.
“Better make it Friday,” Rose said. “Is that all right? You’ve got two more days of work this week. Or are you going out with that lovely young lady Friday?”
Ray grinned. “I’m going to see her tonight, and almost every night. Stay well, Rose.”
She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Bless you, honey. Don’t lose that compassionate heart.”
O O O
Ray went home to change for his date. His good shirt still looked nice, but he felt that it was full of the smell of intense emotions and bad magic. He stripped it off and hung it over the back of his desk chair. On top of his bureau was a stack of clean T-shirts. Most of t
hem were adorned with slogans or team logos. Was that too casual a note to strike? Antoinette always looked nice for him, no matter if they went out for dinner or just a walk around the neighborhood. He glanced at his watch. It was just about ten. They could be together for almost two hours before he had to go to sleep. He grumbled to himself about his job, but if he didn’t have it, he wouldn’t have any money to spend on Antoinette at all.
A raised voice and a burst of laughter outside on the street caught Ray’s attention. He glanced out of his bedroom window. Under the lamp down on the corner, a group of neighborhood guys in black jackets were hanging out, smoking and showing off. Hakeem was among them. He must have been hoping to spot Ray, because as soon as Ray moved into view, Hakeem started waving wildly, gesturing for him to come down.
Ray counted sixteen people. They were all Riverside Jackals or their hangers-on. The latter were either drug customers, or the unfortunate kids who hadn’t been allowed in as full members of the gang yet, because they hadn’t passed the dire initiation ritual. Kids had died fulfilling the requirements. Either way, they were risking their lives.
He put on a Rockers group T-shirt, then slipped out of the house. His wand had allowed him to hide it down the side of his sneaker for confidence. It radiated comforting vibes up one half of his body and down the other. Too bad it couldn’t provide him with a solid steel shell.
The Magic Touch Page 17
