by Phil Gabriel
“Monica,” I said, “Dr. Kitsune says that your case is very interesting, so she would like to treat you. Now that Jason has agreed to the payment plan, do you want to try her treatment?” She had to agree too; otherwise, we couldn’t work on her.
“I’ll try anything to stop the pain,” she said.
“OK,” I said, “lie down on the couch. Dr. Kitsune’s treatment is an advanced form of acupuncture.” At this, Kitty-Sue raised an eyebrow. Her preferred form of acupuncture was sticking knives in enemies. I just smiled at her.
A few minutes of set up and Monica was laid out on the couch, propped up on some pillows brought from the bedroom. A quick somnolence spell had Monica yawning and her eyes closing. It’s a handy spell. Unfortunately, it only works on people who trust you, kind of like a super-powered lullaby.
Once she was out, I motioned Jason over to the couch. Placing both hands on his chest, I drew life energy from him, filling my reservoir to overflowing. Jason staggered backwards, exhausted by the rapid aging. His hair gained more gray and more wrinkles appeared around his eyes. He sat down heavily on a chair.
I raised an eyebrow at Kitty-Sue and said, “Bubble.” She understood instantly and erected a kitsune bubble around us. Outside the bubble, Jason seemed to lose interest in the procedure. What I was about to do to his wife might upset him.
Hmmm, upset Jason, and maybe Kitty-Sue, who had never seen me work before. “Kitty-Sue,” I said, “are you sure you want to watch this?”
“You think I might be squeamish?” she asked, eyes wide in surprise.
“I think you might be jealous,” I said.
“Why?” she asked.
“This will require a ‘laying on of hands,’” I said. “I’ll have to touch her.”
“Will she enjoy it?” she asked.
Damn my truth-telling vow. “Yes,” I responded, then thought that Kitty-Sue could sense Monica’s feelings almost as well as me.
Looking at me with pursed lips, she asked, “Will you enjoy it?”
“I don’t, usually,” I said. “It’s just the job. But I wanted you to know that healers have to do it this way.”
Nodding her head, Kitty-Sue said, “I don’t see a problem. You’re the doctor.”
Then, looking at my wrists and the damaged tattoos, she said, “I thought you were underpowered? Will you be able to pull this off?”
“Healing doesn’t require a lot of power,” I said, “it requires a lot of skill.”
Dismissing all other thoughts, I pulled open Monica’s robe, revealing a slightly pudgy, small-breasted body. Whispering power to Air, I formed a palm-sized squashed globe of air in each hand.
Placing my hands on her bare right foot, one on each side, I vibrated the air samples at an ultrasonic rate. The sound waves went through flesh and bone, echoing back and forming an image in my mind of the interior of her body. Not as high-resolution as some other techniques, but it worked for me. The sound waves could also be heterodyned, producing healing effects.
A quick scan of her body, made by running my hands over her entire body, resulted in an interior image of her current state. Now to start on the healing.
I examined her hands carefully. First, I blocked all nerve impulses, as the changes could be painful. Next, a renewal of damaged capillaries, allowing oxygen to flow to the joints again. Removal of the byproducts of inflammation. Teaching her immune system that it shouldn’t attack itself. As I worked, the swelling in her hands went away and the twisted look disappeared. Then the repair of all the joints and bones. Then a quick sweep of the rest of her body to eliminate any arthritis-damaged joints. Now to eliminate the curse placed by the witches’ coven. Strangely enough, I could find no trace. I looked at Akiko’s faint smile and realized she had eliminated the curse while I worked on the physical aspects.
What the hell, I was ahead of schedule. I worked on her eyes, clearing the corneas and adjusting the shape and flexibility, also rejuvenating the rods and cones. She would have the night vision of a teenager. Incipient varicose veins were rebuilt, arteries, veins, and capillaries cleaned and rejuvenated. I even moved her fat cells around, from her abdomen and hips to her breasts, then tightened muscles. She had graying hair; no woman likes that. So, I fixed that too. All her growing hair would be her natural color. I left the current gray hairs so the difference in her looks would not be too evident.
During the process, there were a few moments when Monica groaned in pleasure as old pains faded and rejuvenated nerve endings responded to my touch. I kept an ear open for any objection from Kitty-Sue, but true to her word, she made no comment.
Finally, proud of my work, I came out of the healing trance with a start. Noting the angle of the sun, I realized I had lost track of time. Looking at the clock on the wall, I saw an hour had passed. Kitty-Sue and Akiko were watching in astonishment.
Kitty-Sue said, “I’ve never seen a human move that fast.”
Akiko said, “I never seen spells woven that fast.”
I gave them a look that said I would explain later. It wasn’t really time warping, just a trick to let me work faster.
I closed Monica’s robe, restoring her modesty. I asked Kitty-Sue to drop the bubble allowing Jason to see us again.
“Let’s wake Monica up and see how she feels,” I said.
“I’m going to place a memory of multiple treatments in her mind,” I said. “It’ll ease the shock of the change.” Jason nodded in agreement. Most of the work I had done was invisible to normal vision, hidden by the robe she was wearing. Only her restored hands and more youthful face showed the extent of the work.
“Hey, Monica,” I said, “wake up. You fell asleep during the treatment. How are you feeling?”
“I feel really well rested,” she said, rising up to a sitting position without using her hands. The habit of avoiding pain was ingrained.
She looked down at her hands. Where she once had twisted, painful, useless claws, she now had graceful hands. “I can’t believe the change in my hands after only five treatments!”
“Yes,” I replied, smiling at Kitty-Sue, “Dr. Kitsune is an expert at transformation.”
She moved her fingers slowly, getting used to pain-free movement. A faint note from the piano captured my attention.
“Monica,” I asked, “would you like to try playing something now?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s been so long, and the last time was...” She trailed off.
I understood. Sometimes the memory of pain is more present than the actual pain. Even though those who had tortured me were long dead, I still felt a momentary flash of pain when I heard Vietnamese spoken.
I crossed to the piano and sat at the bench. What did I remember from my aunt’s lessons? Not much—the intervening years had been spent on magic and mayhem, not music. I started with “Chopsticks,” so simple a child could play it. A few bounces of the keys, painfully mistimed, brought a chuckle from Monica.
Looking back at her with a grin, I said, “You think you can do better? How about a lesson?”
Standing beside me, she ran a finger down the keyboard, listening attentively. True to the reputation of Planet Vegas, the piano was in perfect tune. I scooted over to the left side of the bench and patted the spot beside me.
She shook her head, unwilling to test her hands. “I don’t think I can...” she said.
“Just give me a little lesson,” I asked, restarting “Chopsticks.”
Monica put her hands to her ears, saying, “OK, stop. I’ll show you how to play ‘Chopsticks,’ even if only to stop that discordant noise.” She sat next to me on the bench, smoothing down her robe. She had a puzzled frown, probably wondering where the lower back pain that had been her constant companion had gone.
“Here,” she said, taking my hands to show me how to place them. “Hit these two keys with each finger at the same time. If you need to keep time, tap your foot.”
A couple of minutes of instruction, and I had “Chopsticks” going.
However, Monica still hadn’t joined in. I needed help, a duet to entice her to play along. “Euterpe, how about a little help?” I murmured in a voice too low for Monica to hear.
“Sure,” I heard a whisper in my left ear, felt the sensation of long hair tickling my shoulder, and smelled the scent of an Aegean beach. I knew if I turned my head, I would see nothing. The invisible ex, unseen by all, even my supernatural friends.
Yes, I’m crazy. All magicians are. I felt a pair of invisible hands over mine on the keyboard, directing my fingers to the correct keys. With a precision and timing that I could never match, my hands started with a simple cadence.
“Oh,” said Monica, “‘Heart and Soul.’ I love that.”
Since I was just an instrument of Euterpe at this point, it took me several seconds to recognize the tune. “It’s one of my favorites,” I said, reaching the section where the second player should jump in.
Monica had her hands poised above the keyboard, but was still hesitating. I started from the beginning again to give her time to gather her courage.
This time, she had the timing right, moving in to perform her section. She hit the keys perfectly, but without enough force, probably worried about starting the pain again. We went through the whole song once and stopped. I felt Euterpe hugging me like a favorite song wraps around your heart.
I grinned at Monica. “Let’s do it again! Show me how it’s done,” I said, starting up at the beginning.
She intertwined her fingers, stretched her arms out, and gave me a wicked grin before scooting closer, bumping my hip with hers. It took me a beat to realize she wanted to control the pedals. I slid over a few inches and gave her room to work.
This time, she was magnificent, playing at such a level that it strained all of my borrowed skill. She threw in some flourishes that I had to scramble to match.
Finally, we finished and waited for the listeners’ reaction. Kitty-Sue and Akiko clapped happily, jumping up and down with enthusiasm. Jason let out a huge breath and joined in the applause. He had tears in his eyes.
I felt the spirit of Euterpe depart, leaving me feeling empty and cold. I stood up and took Monica’s hand, turning her towards our audience, and we took a bow.
Kitty-Sue, continuing the charade, asked a series of questions in Japanese, which I roughly translated. “So, Monica,” I said, “are you happy with the treatment?”
“It’s almost a miracle,” she whispered as she stared at her hands. “I feel so much better, a lot of pains I had before are gone.”
“Yes,” I said, “the treatment reduces inflammation throughout the body.”
“I could swear my vision improved, too,” she said.
Akiko looked at me strangely, wondering when I had found time to repair her vision.
“So, Jason,” I asked, “are you happy with the results of the treatment?”
Jason answered by stepping up and hugging his wife. The hug turned into a passionate embrace. They were both in for a pleasant surprise later, when she removed that big terry cloth gown. Jason stood nose to nose with his wife. Then he reached into his pocket and tossed the VIP pass to me.
“Dr. Kitsune, Akiko,” I said, “let’s leave these two alone to celebrate.”
This time, when I picked up Princess and the bag, they both followed.
In the hallway, Kitty-Sue asked, “I thought you couldn’t lie?”
“That’s right,” I replied.
“But,” she said, “I heard you at our music party. You tried to play the piano. You were”—she made a small frown as she searched for the right phrase— “not good. You said you had no musical talent.” “Not good” is as close as Japanese will get to saying “terrible.”
I nodded at the accuracy of her statement as we arrived at the elevator. I pushed the button to call the elevator.
“So,” continued Kitty-Sue, “you were lying about your musical talent?”
“Not at all,” I said as we entered the elevator. Soft Muzak came from the hidden speakers. “I don’t have any talent. I had help.”
“Help?”
“Yes,” I said. “When it comes to sharing music, Euterpe—”
In unison, they both said, “Euterpe doesn’t exist!”
The elevator Muzak abruptly changed to a piano version of “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing.”
I hate it when my supernatural girlfriends can’t get along with my imaginary girlfriends.
Sixteen
Battle at the Buffet
We headed back down to the main floor; both girls were quiet in the presence of Euterpe’s music. Or maybe they didn’t want to argue with a delusional magician.
As we rode the elevator down, Kitty-Sue’s lab coat, white shoes, and severe business dress faded, momentarily revealing her lithe body, generous bosom, and a tiny patch of red hair. As her original dress reappeared, hiding her charms, she gave me her most innocent look, put her hand over her mouth, and murmured, “Oops.” Although I had seen her naked many times in the bath, she still liked to tease me every now and then.
The Muzak in the elevator abruptly changed to an upbeat tune that took me a few seconds to recognize as the theme to The Big Bang Theory by Barenaked Ladies. “Very punny, Euterpe,” I muttered.
Akiko and Kitty-Sue looked at me with suspicion. No sense arguing with them. I noted Kitty-Sue’s cute bare feet and reached into my satchel. I pulled out her Jimmy Choo shoes, now completely repaired.
She grinned in appreciation while saying, “Do you have a bunch of elves in there?” My smile told her I was keeping secrets.
As she bent down to don the shoes, I found myself looking down the top of her dress. At a small “ahem” cough from Akiko, I shook my head to break the spell. The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the doors opened.
We stepped out into the hallway and moved down the corridor. Kitty-Sue abruptly held up a hand as we neared the public restrooms. I halted with a puzzled look at her.
She leaned in close, sniffing several times, and then shook her head. “You have to wash up. I can still smell her on you.”
Crossing her arms and fixing me with her level glare, she said, “You know I don’t like it when you have the scent of other women on you.” I hurried into the washroom to wash as thoroughly as possible.
Checking the time on my phone as we exited the corridor, I saw we had enough time to have dinner at the hotel’s buffet. It would be a new experience for Kitty-Sue and Akiko since Las Vegas-style buffets don’t exist in Japan. I stopped in the walkway and took a deep breath and said, “Do you smell that?”
Kitty-Sue, with senses much sharper than mine, immediately turned her head towards the restaurant section. “Smells good,” she commented. Then, seeing the long line, she said, “Too bad we don’t have enough time to eat.”
“Ah,” I said, holding up my VIP pass, “that’s where you’re wrong. They have a separate line for VIPs.”
Sure enough, there was a side entrance for VIP pass holders that allowed us to bypass the long line for the buffet. After prepaying at the cash register, we commandeered a table in the corner.
The smells from the open buffet were mesmerizing, with the scents of hundreds of dishes wafting through the air. I was mentally preparing my menu when I noticed the looks Akiko and Kitty-Sue were giving the crowd. There were hundreds of people at the buffet, of all shapes and sizes. Wait, I’m lying. They were mostly of one size, extra-large; and one shape, out. The all-you-can-eat Las Vegas buffets were a mecca for the adipose enhanced. “Don’t worry,” I said, “you would have to eat like an American for many years to get that big.”
At that moment, the background music shifted to an old Queen song, “Fat Bottomed Girls.” I don’t think the girls noticed Euterpe’s comment.
We gathered our plates and loaded them with our selections—entailing two trips in my case, as I had to bring Akiko’s choices back to the table. She had enough poltergeist control to do it herself, but floating plates just might have been a tip-of
f to the other patrons that there was something unusual about our table.
At our table, we were met by a waitress, who took our drink orders. Wine for me, of course, and fizzy drinks for the girls. We got a puzzled look at the inclusion of the invisible Akiko’s drink order, which was quickly quelled when I produced a hundred-dollar bill for the waitress.
“Itadakimasu,” said the girls in unison, quickly echoed by me. I pulled my earlobe, and Kitty-Sue surrounded our table with a kitsune bubble so we could speak freely.
I worked to duplicate Akiko’s dishes to her ghostly plane so she could join us. As I was preparing the spell for her plate of steamed crab legs, she held up her hand to stop me. As I watched, she did something I had never thought of: she performed Schrödinger’s spell on the crab legs but restricted it to the meat inside the shell. The result was the extraction of the succulent crab meat without having to crack the shell. I filed away the spell she used for future use. I swear I have learned more from my students than I have ever taught.
The meal was excellent, and the wine was my favorite red. After several trips to refill my plate with prime rib, steak, and grilled ham, I was able to slow down to a normal pace. The girls watched in fascination as I consumed massive quantities of food.
“Sorry,” I said, “I’m always starved after healing someone. Even with all the energy Jason gave me, I still had to use up a lot of reserves to complete the job.”
“Since you mentioned healing,” said Kitty-Sue, “can you heal any injury?”
“Not really,” I answered, “there are lots of limitations.” Akiko tilted her head in interest, since we hadn’t discussed the healing arts beyond technical details. She was the equivalent of a straight-A Architecture student who had never lifted a shovel.
“Limitations,” said Kitty-Sue in disbelief. “You cured Monica’s arthritis. You healed Nakamura-san’s mother, without even seeing her!”
“Those were not really cures,” I said.