“Me, too,” Hakeem said. Suddenly, he wheeled to a stop twenty feet from the corner. Ray stopped, too, and let the lunchtime crowds part to walk around them. “Look, man …”
“Hey, Hakeem,” Zeon said, appearing next to them from out of the ground. Ray guessed his entrance was intended to keep people from noticing the puff of smoke that seemed to accompany the entrances and exits of all genies. “When you’re finished associating with the bottom-feeder, we’ve got more places to go.”
“You don’t have to go with this dude if you don’t want to,” Ray said, getting between his friend and the gangbanger.
Hakeem gave him a sad, pathetic look. “You just don’t understand, man,” he said, looking as if he desperately wished Ray could.
Worried, Ray asked in a low voice, “Are you in some kind of trouble, brother?”
“See you around, man, all right?” Hakeem asked, pushing past him to stand by Zeon. “I’m sorry what I said about your friend, the old lady.” He held up his hand to catch Ray’s in a clasp. Ray caught the glint of the djinn bracelets and a matching glint in his friend’s eyes. He started to ask again, when Zeon gave Ray a tremendous shove, catapulting him into a knot of businessmen in shirtsleeves. While he made distracted apologies, Hakeem and Zeon vanished in a cloud of choking black fumes.
Ray straightened up, too late to pull his friend back. He had to get Hakeem away from those genies. Maybe Rose had some advice on how to help.
From the college, he called Rose’s house. The phone rang several times, but only the answering machine picked up. Ray hung up before her message finished. Rose was probably out buying presents for the grandchildren. He’d go there after work and ask her in person. He wondered how much it would cost him in brownie points to pull Hakeem away from the DDEG. Too much. Would Rose lend him some? Discontented and frustrated, he collected his documents and went back to work.
O O O
“Damn you, let me out of this filthy jar!”
The shrill voice was beginning to eat away at Hakeem’s eardrums. He was having reality-check problems. All right, so it wasn’t all that normal to be flying through the air granting wishes, or chasing fairy godmothers who waved wands, but in a million years he would never have believed in the teeny little woman he and Zeon had between them, trapped in a pickle jar. Zeon carried the butterfly net proudly over his shoulder like a hunter’s gun.
It had been a piece of cake to capture the first fairy. They caught a whiff of the air-freshener scent while looking for a different prospect, and followed it until they saw the little woman sailing along like a luna moth. She was as beautiful as a dream, tiny, delicate, almost translucent, with her glistening, jewel-colored dress. She dematerialized to go through the wall of a house. The djinni were right behind her. As she was identifying herself to the wondering child, they dropped Zeon’s jacket on her and brought her back.
The other thing he couldn’t believe was how such cute little creatures could have such dirty mouths. Each of them had sworn a bright blue streak when they had laid hands on her, and kept it up all the way back to the warehouse. As they added the third fairy to the birdcage under the eaves of the building, the other two spouted expletives directed at them until Hakeem felt his ears burning. Zeon only grinned.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Hakeem whispered, as he shut the door on their captive.
“If you deserved the soul you have, you’d let us go!” the first fairy pleaded. She turned big blue eyes on him in desperate appeal. His stomach tense with sympathy, Hakeem almost released the latch, when Zeon’s hand dropped down on his arm.
“The Big Bulb says no,” he said flatly.
“I’m sorry,” he told the fairies. At that moment, if he had it in his power to quit the DDEG, he would have turned his back and never returned. They screamed obscenities at him as he and Zeon settled down to the floor of the warehouse.
The pretty chairwoman, or so Speed had identified her, was trying to calm everyone down. There were dozens of people trapped in the enclosure that he had made. The place was full of camp beds and chairs. In spite of the rough conditions, most of the fairy godparents were really nice people, who were polite and gracious to their captors. They made him feel even more ashamed of himself than he already was. As he passed a short, plump woman with graying dark hair seated in an overstuffed armchair, she smiled at him in a friendly way. She was one of the ones that had been brought in the night before. She looked familiar to him, but for a moment he couldn’t place her. He’d seen her—where? On the street. Walking with Ray. Walking with Ray? Was he … was his best friend one of these people? He had to get out of here, and ask him, warn him!
“Hakeem? Is that you?”
A stentorian female voice dragged his attention away from the first woman. He’d know it a million miles or a million years away.
“Grandma?”
Hakeem spun around and searched the crowd for the rounded, bronze figure. She beckoned to him from a deep, overstuffed armchair at the back of the open square. He was so shocked he didn’t even feel his feet hit the floor as he walked to her.
“There you are, son!” she said. “What are you doing involved with these skunks and ruffians?”
“I … I kind of fell into it, Grandma,” Hakeem said, his head bowed. He was ashamed to have anyone he knew see him under these circumstances. The big djinn who looked like a genie from the movies appeared next to him.
“Is this your grandmother?” Gurgin asked.
“No, she his friend’s grandma,” Zeon said, who followed Hakeem across the floor. “His friend the spineless piece of crap, right?” He nudged Hakeem in the ribs with his elbow.
Grandma Eustatia rose to her feet and sailed over to slap Zeon across the face. Clutching his cheek, he gaped at her.
“Don’t you call my grandson names,” she said, gliding back to her chair. She seated herself like a queen. Zeon lunged at her. Hakeem pulled him back and bent over her protectively. Zeon glared. Gurgin jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and the Jackal went off to join the others on top of a heap of cartons. Hakeem watched him, feeling his cheeks burn.
“I’d let you go if I could,” he whispered. “I … I can’t do anything.”
“I’ll be all right, but you ought to go, Hakeem. You’re above this nasty crowd,” Mrs. Green said loudly.
“Please, Grandma, not in front of the others,” he begged her.
“What’s the difference?” Grandma Eustatia said, raising her voice to concert pitch. It rang off the concrete ceiling and dented his eardrums. “They should hear this, too! Shame on them! Shame on you!”
It was impossible to ignore her. Every fairy godmother in the room turned around to look at them. Even Mr. Froister emerged from his little office in the corner to see what all the fuss was.
“If I could get out, I would,” Hakeem whispered. Grandma Eustatia gave him a tender look, as if he were six years old again.
“It’s always your choice, honey.” She patted his hand. Hakeem resolved that now would be the moment he would take charge of his own life.
He marched up to Froister, who was standing, arms folded, on the perimeter of the enclosure. The guildmaster looked curiously at Hakeem, and raised a hand to permit him to speak.
“I don’t want to do this anymore, sir,” Hakeem said. “I want out.”
Froister’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “This is an inconvenient time for you to quit, young man.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Hakeem said. “I’ve got to go. I can’t do this anymore. Please.” He was begging now, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t get it all out at once, he never would be able to again. He was already starting to feel his resolve ebbing. He glanced back at Grandma Eustatia, who nodded encouragement at him. “Let me leave. Please.”
“He’ll rat,” Zeon shouted from the skidload of lamps.
“Zeon!” Hakeem exclaimed, staring up at him in horror. The rest of the fairy godmothers were still silent, watching.
“You c
an tell he’s not really your friend,” Grandma Eustatia said, from across the room.
“He’s not steady, Mr. F.,” Zeon complained. “He must have known about that old bitch, and he didn’t say. He’ll split if he can. He’ll bring the cops.”
“No he won’t,” Froister said assuredly. Hakeem hated him for his complacency. He’d sweep-kick the oily bastard off his feet, but the important thing was just to get out. If he could go get Ray, they could think of some way to free his grandmother, and get the others out, too.
“I should have refused in the first place,” Hakeem said bitterly, “like Ray’s been doing all along.”
Froister’s eyebrows went up again. “I’m sorry I don’t know your friend. He sounds like a man of integrity.”
“He is! I won’t do this anymore,” Hakeem said, squaring his shoulders. He held up his hands. “Please take these things off me. I quit!”
“No,” Froister said with a half smile. “You can’t quit. You swore an oath. You’ll perform your tasks with dignity, or without. You have no choice. Go.” Hakeem folded his arms and stood his ground. Froister sighed. “Pity. Well, I can’t have you defying me to my face. Kneel.”
Hakeem paused, just for a moment. He knew Froister had used up three wishes on him, so he thought that there was nothing else that could happen. Hakeem was bigger and stronger than the guildmaster. If no one got in the way, he’d be able to take the man down by himself.
Then Froister asked, very deliberately, “You swear to obey the mother of the lamp?”
Hakeem could no longer help himself. The magic took over, weighing down his limbs and chest. He dropped to the floor on his hands and knees, gasping.
“That’s better,” Froister said, that maddening smile on his lips. “Into the lamp, young man. Think of your sins and promise to be a better djinn in future.” The guildmaster seemed to go all misty, but Hakeem knew it was his own eyes turning to smoke. The faces around him got larger and larger.
The magic hurt horribly as it sucked him in, but Hakeem bit his lips, refusing to give Froister or Zeon the satisfaction of a scream. The spell kept twisting him into a smaller and smaller package until he saw the milk-white walls of his prison around him. The squeezing stopped. Jumping up, he hammered on the sides of the lamp. He could hear voices outside. No one could hear him. He tried to dematerialize and solidify outside the lamp, but for some reason the spell wasn’t working.
Ray Crandall and his grandmother were fairy godparents! Hakeem kept thinking over and over. At that moment he knew the most remarkable fact of his life, and he couldn’t tell anybody except the people he didn’t want to hear it.
O O O
Froister picked up the painted milk glass lamp and hefted it. A show of defiance, but he should have expected something of the kind. These young men didn’t grow up in a vacuum. There was bound to be an overlap in membership of affiliated organizations. The only thing to do was to prevent any more fraternization in future. And with luck, this ordeal would be over very soon. By sequestering the troublemaker, he hoped to demoralize the fairy godparents still further.
“Keep getting them in here!” he ordered his gang of apprentices. “I want every fairy godmother in the Local 3-26 in this warehouse by nightfall. No exceptions!” He carried the lamp away to his office, and locked it in.
O O O
Ray leaned on the bell marked “Feinstein” at Rose’s three-flat. Nobody answered the door. No Rose. Just when he really needed her advice, she wasn’t around.
He sat down on the stoop to think. Her family had probably taken her out to dinner, in which case it would be hours before she came back. Or maybe they had taken her off on vacation, in which case he would be waiting days to talk to her. No, she had offered him a meal on Tuesday, so she must still be around. He’d come back later, after dinner, and beg a few minutes alone to talk.
O O O
Ray headed for home. He wished he wasn’t going to be inactive for a week. The wand told him there were need strings here and there, coming from houses, apartments, parks, and passing cars. He thought about getting involved, but none of them pulled him so hard as that little girl in the hospital had, so he made a judgment call that they weren’t urgent enough for him to intervene. There’d be another fairy godparent along in a while, to take care of these. He would rather have had Rose overseeing his efforts than blowing a child’s one miracle with overkill or underkill.
As he turned the corner into his block, he heard the hubbub of many voices. Warily, he craned his neck to see who was there. About halfway down the street was a bunch of neatly dressed men and women. Ray recognized them as guardian angels. Some of them had been here the night of the car fire, but some were the crease-trousered bunch from Edwin’s bar. They were casting around as if looking for someone or something. One of them looked his way and pointed. As one, all the heads turned toward him. He felt nervous at the attention, but it must be okay: these were the good guys. Most likely they wanted to ask questions about the genie gangbangers.
The Reverend Barnes was at the head of the group. He spotted Ray, and, instead of beckoning, he threw a “go away” gesture toward him. Ray halted, puzzled, and the big man flew across the street to meet him.
“Don’t go home!” Barnes shouted. “There’s someone hunting fairy godmothers!” Half the group lifted up off the pavement to follow. Ray looked at them in bewilderment.
“What?” he demanded, as they all landed around him, talking at once. Finally, the broad-shouldered white man who had been directing traffic that night got them all quiet.
“There’s someone with a list of your names,” Reverend Barnes said. “They’re grabbing the FGU off the streets in droves. You’re the only one we’ve seen in the last hour.”
“The last one?” Ray asked. “What about my grandmother?” He pointed toward his home.
“Should there be someone in that house?” the big white guy asked the Reverend Barnes.
“There certainly should be!” Barnes said. They followed Ray to his house. His mother came out on the steps at the noise.
“Oh, Ray! Thank heavens you’re here,” his mother said, giving a puzzled smile to the crowd of men and women at the bottom of her stoop. “Did you know if your grandmother was going out? She isn’t home. I thought she’d at least leave a note.”
“When did you last see her, Sharon?” the Reverend Barnes asked politely.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ray’s mother said. “I came back here for lunch. She said she was going to run some errands, that’s all.”
One of the women had broken away from the group and gone around the back of the Crandall house. She returned with a solemn expression on her face. Barnes looked a question at her, and she shook her head.
“Maybe she’s at the church,” Barnes said, with a smile for Ray’s mother. “I’ll check back, and if she’s there, I’ll give her a lift home.”
“You’re very kind. Are you coming in, Ray?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve got some things to do first.” His mother nodded, bemused, and shut the door. “Now what?” he asked the guardian angels.
“The window of her room was open,” the female GA reported, now that Ray’s mother was out of earshot. “I smelled evil on the air.”
“It’s got to be the gangbangers,” Ray said, frantic.
“We heard all about that,” one of the yuppie-uniformed angels said. “We’ll be on the lookout for her. Let us handle it.”
“No, I’ve got to help you!” Ray said. “She’s my grandmother.”
“That does it,” the Reverend Barnes said, and took Ray’s arm. “You’re not going anywhere you’ll be in danger. We have to get you to somewhere safe, and start a real search.”
O O O
Irresistible as a hurricane, the guardian angels swept him up off his feet and over the roofs of the houses. They landed on the pavement just in front of the Magic Bar, and all but stuffed him in the door, past the comfort of the wards.
“I wish
I could say you’d be safe in the church, but these people don’t respect its sanctity,” Mr. Barnes said. “You’ll be safe here with Edwin. And don’t do any more magic yourself! That’s how they’ll find you.”
The bar was a warm and comforting place most times, but it was creepy to be in there alone. Dust motes danced in the light from the glass door. Even the jukebox was silent.
“Sit down, Ray. We’re going to be spending some time together.” Edwin took down a glass and poured him a cola. “I hope they can find the rest of the FGU before whoever it is gets them.”
Ray reached for the frosty glass, his mouth watering. He was thirsty and tired, and it would have been good to relax, but his hand stopped halfway. He was thinking of the doorbell that rang on an empty apartment. If the genie-Jackals had already gotten Grandma, had Rose been one of their earlier victims?
“I can’t hide here,” Ray said. “I’ve got to go—go find my friend.”
“Ray, there are people out there hunting you,” Edwin warned, the points of his mustache alarmed.
“I don’t care!” he said, running out the door. “I’ve got to go find Rose!”
He felt the comforting wards slide away from him as he popped out onto the hot, sunlit sidewalk. He noticed now that the air did stink of evil, once he was out of the protected environment of the bar. The genie-Jackals had been everywhere. He only hoped he’d be in time to save Rose from them.
He pulled out all the brownie points he had, and told the little sparks he wanted point-to-point transportation to Rose’s house.
O O O
A dog barked madly as Ray appeared in the middle of the lawn in front of Rose’s three-flat. Questions in his head vied with one another for his attention. What was the DDEG doing collecting fairy godmothers? What about the merger?
This time when he leaned on the bell, someone buzzed him in. Thank heavens, maybe the genie-Jackals hadn’t found Rose yet. He burst in the door and stood panting on the threshold.
Inside the apartment, there was a pretty woman of about forty with blond-streaked hair, two boys and a girl of assorted grade school ages, and a nice-looking man with dark hair and Rose’s eyes and determined chin. But no Rose. Ray pulled himself together as they gave him bemused, questioning smiles.
The Magic Touch Page 27
