Hidden Magic

by Melinda Kucsera

  There were sirens blaring in the distance, getting closer. He turned the corner onto the street and saw a crowd gathered at the kerb. A large 16-wheeler was jacked up on the opposite kerb and a stack of cars were in a scrunched-up heap in front of it. The driver of the lorry was climbing out of the cab, his face white as a sheet. He missed his step and fell with a thud to the tarmac. Someone was at his side in a second and Felix stood there numb as he watched. The front most car was not much more than scrap. There was smoke hissing from the bonnet. A car horn honked somewhere up the street. Cars were lined up in both directions. Felix craned his neck and saw the tailback going right back to the crossroads at the end of the street. Nothing was moving and the drivers back there wouldn’t be able to see what was happening. He found Emma in the crowd and gently took her elbow. She looked up at him with fearful eyes.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she asked.

  ‘Come on, we need to go and clear the traffic.’ He led her away from the scene and she followed, falling into step beside him. The first few cars had been abandoned, their drivers having moved up to the front of the queue to see what was happening. Felix pointed at the first car with a driver. ‘You start here and work your way back. I’ll head up to the traffic lights.’

  ‘Sure.’ Emma nodded and stepped into the road to approach the driver’s window. Felix jogged away, the fog in his head clearing with the cold wind blowing through it. He got to the crossroads, where everything was jammed. He approached a car that just about had enough room to turn around and head up the relatively empty lane heading away from the collision. He knocked on the window and it rolled down. A sour-looking woman scowled at him.

  ‘There’s been a collision, emergency services are coming but will need to come through here. Can you turn around and head up that way?’

  ‘I need to go that way,’ she snapped.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but nothing’s going that way for a while. You’re best turning here and taking the Castle Road out into Old Town.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said, bristling. The window rolled up and he shook his head in consternation. She turned her car and moved out of the jam. Before the car behind could move up into her place, Felix was in the way with his hands up. His training kicked in. He had done this sort of thing a hundred times in Afghanistan. He turned a few cars around and soon the drivers were sorting themselves out and moving away. When he returned to the lorry, the crowd was much bigger and a police car had managed to get through from the other direction. Its blue lights flashed, casting their eerie glow across the street even in broad daylight. Felix had almost forgotten his strange turn inside the community centre and he glanced back at the building with a flicker of fear.

  He pulled out his phone and went into his contacts, to his sister’s name. Her address was in there. He scrolled to where it should be but the screen flickered and where the address should be was a series of indecipherable icons instead.

  ‘Good job, soldier,’ came a friendly voice as an ambulance pulled up beside him. Emma was smiling but stopped when she saw his face. The siren and lights of the ambulance stopped abruptly and paramedics jumped out and went into action. A police officer was stringing tape across the road and another approached Felix and Emma with her arms outstretched.

  ‘Everyone back, please. Make way.’ The crowd was shimmied out of the street and onto the opposite pavement.

  ‘I can’t explain it,’ the lorry driver was spluttering at another police officer nearby. ‘My satnav just blinked out and I couldn’t remember where I was going. I was looking down at the screen trying to figure out what was happening and I know I should have been looking at the road, but this funny feeling came over me and it was like there was this blackness inside me and I just— crashed,’ he rambled quickly, his voice getting higher and higher. Felix narrowed his eyes at the driver, his words all too familiar.

  ‘Officer!’ Emma called, brushing past a couple of onlookers. She produced a wallet from her back pocket, pulled out her veteran ID card and showed it to the police officer. ‘My colleague and I have just been helping to clear the congestion.’ She indicated Felix and he moved closer, smiling awkwardly at the officer in her high-visibility jacket. ‘Is there anything else we can do to help?’

  ‘Thank you for your assistance. I’m sure we can take it from here,’ she said, nodding solemnly and looking them each in the eye.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Emma turned and walked back towards the community centre and Felix followed, like a lost puppy. He had no idea what to do. ‘I want to keep you busy, Felix,’ Emma said. He stopped short and blinked at her.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Come on.’ She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the crowd.

  ‘The driver, Emma!’ he snapped and came to a halt. Emma stopped and turned to look at him. ‘The driver said something about what happened. It was the same thing that happened to me.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The lorry driver crashed because he couldn’t remember where he was going and felt a funny wave come over him. That’s what happened to me. Something really weird is happening.’

  ‘Let me help you,’ Emma said, her eyes resolute and trustworthy.

  ‘I don’t think you can.’

  ‘Look, here’s my number. Call me if you need anything.’ She grabbed his phone from his hand and typed her number in.

  ‘Thanks. Thanks for everything.’

  ‘I hope your sister’s okay.’

  ‘Me too.’ Felix saved her number and put his phone away. He had to figure this out. Maybe then he could accept help, but for now, he was on his own.

  Chapter Two

  Felix set off at a jog in the direction that the lorry had been going. Wherever that driver was trying to get to was where his sister was, he felt sure of it. Once he got clear of the crowd he was able to pick up the pace. His chest ached with the effort, but he had no time to waste. Maybe he could give up the cigarettes. In all the madness that morning, he realised, he hadn’t had a smoke yet. He allowed a small chuckle of surprise to slow him down for a moment but brushed it aside to press on.

  At the end of the street he looked at the sluggish traffic and the people bustling about their business. He had no idea which way to go. He turned right and strode up the slight hill towards the river. He caught snatches of conversation about the lorry crash from passing pedestrians. He tuned in as best he could to the fragments of conversation. Lots of people were afraid and confused. He passed someone who had pulled her car over on double yellow lines and was looking up and down the street with tears streaking down her face. He pressed down the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. He tried Julie’s phone again and again as he made his way back into Old Town. It was the same result every time.

  As he approached the castle ruins that stood beside the main road, Felix stopped and, in a sudden burst of inspiration, switched his efforts to Julie’s husband. He had never got along with Peter, but he was desperate. He hit the call button and pressed his phone against his ear. Traffic roared by on the busy road, making it hard to hear. Peter’s phone rang a few times then went to voicemail. Felix hesitated. What on earth could he say that wouldn’t sound crazy? He hung up and set off again, in the vague direction of his flat. But he had no intention of stopping there.

  Felix passed two more collisions and several clusters of people animatedly discussing the mysterious wave of confusion sweeping the city. He stopped outside the newsagent under his flat and something dragged him into the shop.

  ‘Sanjeev?’ he called out as the bell jingled. There was more desperation in his voice than he would have liked. Movement at the back of the shop caught Felix’s attention. The elderly shopkeeper appeared from the doorway to the back room and made his way slowly down the narrow aisle. ‘Do you sell maps?’

  ‘You’re the third person to come in asking that this morning, Mr Felix. What’s happening?’ He hobbled past Felix into the next aisle and returned a moment later with a neatly folded street
map of Caerton.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m trying to work that out myself. What’s north of here?’

  ‘That’s an odd question.’ Sanjeev carried the map to the counter and unfolded it. Felix leaned over and the two of them exchanged troubled glances.

  ‘You don’t know either, do you?’ Felix said.

  ‘I do,’ Sanjeev replied, looking affronted. ‘It’s… it’s that place. Ooh, it’s on the tip of my tongue.’

  ‘That’s exactly how I feel.’ Together they bent over the map and Felix blinked in surprise. The city looked smaller than he remembered. There was a big chunk cut out of the urban sprawl in the north-west corner. There seemed to be nothing between the northern edge of Old Town and the estuary that ran along the north of the whole city. ‘How can there be nothing there? I don’t understand. The city should go right up to the docks.’

  ‘Yes, it should.’ Sanjeev was frowning.

  ‘That’s where my sister lives, I’m certain of it. Are all the maps like this?’

  The old man went back to the display with surprising energy that Felix hadn’t seen previously. He returned with half a dozen copies of the map in his arms. One by one they unfolded them and found exactly the same thing on them all. ‘It’s as if someone scooped up whatever was there and just made it vanish. No one remembers it, no one can contact anyone who should be there. People are getting sick when they realise they’ve lost a place from their minds. There are drivers crashing their vehicles all over the place. What’s happening?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mr Felix.’

  Felix wanted to grab the calm shopkeeper by the scruff of his neck and shake him. Why wasn’t he panicking? He took a breath and gripped the edge of the counter.

  ‘I have to go there.’ Felix turned and stalked from the cluttered little shop. He had got his breath back from his hurried journey from the city centre, so he again broke into a jog and followed the main road out to the west, then turned up a side street to head north. He kept his gaze on the road ahead, waiting to see what would happen as he approached the edge of Old Town. It was a narrow street that passed the back of the city museum. As he approached the grand, old building, a small group of people burst out of the back door talking animatedly. Felix veered into the street to avoid them, casting a wary glance their way. In the midst was a familiar figure. Felix turned his head as he passed the four people, his eyes fixed on the old man with long, grey hair and the tall staff. For a moment their eyes met.

  Felix felt something unpleasant squirm inside. He felt at once that these people were wrong somehow, not like him. They were all dressed strangely and gave off an intimidating aura. He averted his gaze and strode on, his hands wedged deep into his pockets to keep them warm. He had only gone a few metres when he became aware that the group were following him. It was surely a coincidence. There were only two directions they could have gone in and they just happened to be going the same way as him.

  He felt the gap between himself and the odd group closing as they made quicker progress than him up the narrow street. Their chatter had died down to stony silence. Felix slowed his pace and allowed the group to pass him. They split down the middle and passed on either side of him. The old man with the staff glanced over his shoulder as he pulled ahead and again their eyes met. Felix wrestled with the pressure he felt on his shoulders, forcing him into a submissive posture. He had never felt anything like it in his life. Even when he was keeping watch over his best friend while he diffused a bomb at a market in Kabul.

  He allowed a gap to form between himself and the strange group. Some deep sense of intuition told him that they were somehow connected to whatever was going on in the city. They knew something. He followed them to the end of the street, where they turned right and promptly crossed the heavy traffic. He jogged between cars and followed them up another side street. There was litter on the wet ground, and the stink of urine. The chugging sound of the traffic behind followed him up the small street and he glanced over his shoulder to ease the creeping feeling up his spine that told him he was being followed all over again.

  There was no one there and when he returned his gaze to the path ahead, the four odd people he had been following had vanished. He stopped and looked around. There was nowhere they could have gone. With a deep frown, he set off again at a brisk walk and as he neared the end of the street he was struck by the silence. The road behind him no longer hummed and there was no sound coming from ahead either. A strange, twisting sensation formed inside him and he swayed. He blinked it away and reached out for the nearby brick wall. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and he shook away the sensation. When he opened his eyes and looked up he was back in the last side street where he had picked up the strange people.

  ‘What the…’ He looked up and down the street. There was no mistake, he had somehow ended up back near the museum in a matter of seconds. The street was empty. He set off at a sprint and when he reached the traffic-clogged road he dashed straight across it, between the slowly moving cars. Someone honked their horn but he shrugged it off and darted up the second side street. He sprinted full pelt towards the other end of the street, determined not to get distracted or turned around. As he neared the end again the familiar dizziness swept through him, but he gritted his teeth and pressed on. He burst out of the end of the street and was faced with the front of the museum.

  He had somehow doubled back on himself and wound up on the other side of the museum from where he started. He leaned over and planted his hands on his knees. Nausea rushed over him and he fought the urge to be sick right there in the bustling street. His chest ached from running so hard and he groaned with the effort of simply breathing. His knee complained too but the physiotherapy wasn't for nothing and he found himself able to flex out the discomfort.

  When Felix stood up straight a sense of grim determination flooded his veins. He checked the traffic and crossed the road, heading straight for the museum. He went up the wide steps and in through the huge double doors into a grand entrance hall. He had visited the museum once on a school trip twenty-odd years ago and again just before joining the army on one of those odd, reflective days. He stopped in the entrance and looked around, unsure what he was looking for. He moved up the hallway towards a display at the far end.

  There were photos and information cards behind glass and a quick glance over them told him that they were pictures of museum staff. There was a row of professional headshots of people all titled “Doctor” and the labels revealed which departments they headed. At the end of the row was a stern-looking woman with her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun. She was wearing a dark suit and looked down her nose toward the camera. Felix focused on her and drew a sharp breath as recognition clicked into place. He had seen her with the group at the back door. She was the curator of the whole museum. The big boss. What was she doing sneaking out the back in the middle of the day with a group of weirdos? Where had they all disappeared to?

  Felix drifted away from the staff display and into the heart of the museum. He wasn’t really looking at anything. He needed to wrap his head around things and this was as good a place to loiter as any. A whole area of Caerton had somehow vanished. No one could remember it properly, people were getting sick when they tried. He couldn’t get to where it should be. He kept getting turned around. Maybe that had happened to those other people too but they’d ended up somewhere different.

  He had to find his sister. If the streets had vanished, what had happened to the people? He pulled out his phone and tried his brother-in-law again. No answer. But at least his phone was actually ringing, unlike Julie’s.

  ‘Peter,’ Felix said brusquely when he got through to the voicemail. ‘It’s Felix. Please call me when you get this.’ He hung up and with a disgruntled sigh he realised that Peter was probably frantically trying to get to Julie too. Assuming he hadn’t also vanished. Felix made his way through the museum and searched for a door out into the back alley. Eventually he found a fire door and yanked th
e bar down to open it. He swung the door open and stepped out into the street. It had started raining again and he turned his face to the grey sky to feel the cool drizzle on his skin. He let the fire door swing shut behind him and wiped the rain off his face.

  He heard voices and his head whipped in the direction of the babble. He looked around for somewhere to conceal himself, unsure why he even felt the need to do so. Opposite the fire door was a large dumpster and dark doorway to the industrial building opposite. He dashed across the street and ducked into the shelter of the doorway, tucking himself out of sight. He peered carefully around the dumpster and saw the people he had followed striding into the narrow street, the curator of the museum leading them.

  ‘Can you just call him, please?’ the curator snapped, glaring at the old man with the staff.

  ‘Of course,’ he replied, casting his gaze down.

  ‘Just find out what they’re dealing with over in St. Mark’s. I can’t very well approach Fortune, but you have a friendship with Shadow’s Step.’ Her voice had softened.

  ‘Warden,’ one of the other men behind the curator said, frowning. He was Chinese or something, Felix couldn't tell. ‘What are we dealing with here? How can St. Catherine’s just vanish like this? Have you ever heard of anything like it?’

  ‘Never,’ the curator replied. Why was he calling her Warden? St. Catherine’s? Felix felt that wave of blackness sweeping over him again and the feeling that he was going to hurl. He clamped a hand over his mouth and lurched back against the door. That was where he grew up. His childhood home was in St. Catherine’s. His school. The park he and Julie played in as children, where they had gone sledging one particularly snowy winter. He remembered it vividly. And yet at the same time he had no idea what he was thinking. They couldn’t be his memories because that place wasn’t real. Julie lived there with her husband. Felix caught the number six bus to get there from his flat. But the number six stopped just up the road from here. It didn’t go any further. But it should.