Daddy Warlock

by Jacqueline Diamond

  She could smell the herbal fragrance of his shampoo, and feel the moisture on his skin as if he’d showered only moments before. She could see him stepping from the shower, beads of water gleaming on his tanned skin, mouth curving upward as he glanced into the mirror….

  With a shock, she yanked her thoughts from the tantalizing image that presented itself. How dare she invade the man’s privacy by imagining what he looked like naked. Yet she had the weirdest sense that she hadn’t been imagining it, but remembering.

  “The boy’s right,” he said, uncoiling from the tightfitting interior. “We were debating the best way to reinflate your tires.”

  “Debating?” Tara knew that men enjoyed buying the latest gadgets, but to her knowledge even the most advanced cars restricted themselves to advising that the hatchback hadn’t latched or the gas was low.

  “It was hardly a debate,” came a sulky female voice from inside the car. “How could anyone believe a bicycle pump would have sufficient pressure to inflate a car tire?”

  “The nearest gas station can’t be more than a few blocks away,” Chance pointed out. “They would only need enough air to—”

  “Then there was his other idea!” scoffed the car. “He was going to take off all four tires and pile them inside me. Does it look like I’m that kind of car?”

  Reaching to the dashboard, Chance pressed a button next to the computerized map. The voice stopped.

  “Wow!” Harry gave an excited hop. “That’s cool!”

  “I’m thinking of reprogramming it to say ‘Yes, master,’” muttered Chance, and then brightened. “You must be Harry.”

  Tara introduced her son to her new boss. Despite her frustration about the tires, she was glad for the amusing distraction. Obviously, life at the Powers residence was going to be full of surprises.

  She hoped that being exposed to Chance’s computer wizardry would make Harry forget his attempts at feigning magic. The boy was old enough to differentiate between fantasy and reality, and to put his mind to practical use. Having access to the latest technology would be a blessing.

  Although she took pride in handling her own life, Tara had to admit that it felt good to have someone to turn to. Especially someone as solid and reassuring as Chance.

  “As you can see, we’ve been the victim of some juvenile delinquent”, she said as her boss surveyed the sagging sedan. “Any suggestions? Short of calling a tow truck, I mean?”

  “I’ll bet I can fix it!” Harry dumped his teddy bears into the back seat and planted himself in front of a tire. “If I concentrate, I can make the air go in. Watch!”

  To Tara’s horror, the tire began, ever so slowly, to inflate. Or, rather, it appeared to be filling, but the illusion must have been due to the power of suggestion.

  “Whoa!” Chance clapped the boy on the back, which had the effect of breaking his concentration. The tire drooped. “You’ll bust your gut, blowing so hard!”

  “I wasn’t blowing,” Harry pointed out.

  “I’ll tell you what, sport.” The older man crouched to the height of the little boy. Puzzled, Tara observed that they seemed to resemble each other, not only in the slant of their eyes but also in the shapes of their ears. Then, blinking to clear her vision, she took a closer look and decided the resemblance was superficial. “I’ll show you how a real man handles a situation like this, okay?”

  Straightening, he took Tara aside. The brush of his hand against her arm nearly overwhelmed her selfcontrol. When they were touching, she felt intimately connected to him in a way she couldn’t explain.

  Chance’s gaze was hooded. “You’ve probably got a lot to do inside, rounding up the rest of your things. I’ll take care of getting help. This will give me a chance to get to know your son. He seems like a bright little boy.”

  “A little too bright.” She knew Chance was going to insist on paying for the repairs himself, but at the moment she couldn’t afford to stand on her pride. “Thanks, Mr. Powers.”

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  “Chance,” she said. “Thanks, Chance.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He stepped back, admitting Harry to their conversation. “We’ll have it taken care of in no time.”

  HARRY HOPED Mr. Powers wasn’t going to make fun of magic. It was getting harder and harder to restrain himself, especially when there were problems that could be fixed so easily and that made so much trouble for his mother.

  “Just let me do it, will you?” he told the man.

  Chance crouched down again. It was nice to be able to look a grown-up in the face, especially when that face had a friendly expression to it.

  “It’s not that simple.” The man spoke seriously. “Harry, you don’t want to let the whole world know what you can do.”

  “Why not?”

  “First of all, they’ll think you’re tricking them.”

  That was true, but Harry was tired of worrying about other people’s stupidity. “Yeah, but so what? I mean, this is our car. Why can’t I fix it?”

  “You know about bad guys on TV, don’t you?”

  Mom didn’t let him watch violent shows, but there were bad guys in cartoons. “Sure.”

  “What do you think a bad guy would do if he found out that a little boy could work magic?”

  Harry got excited. “He’d make the boy open bank vaults! And get passwords to people’s computers so he could steal their money!”

  “But first,” Chance warned solemnly, “he’d have to kidnap the little boy, wouldn’t he?”

  Harry’s enthusiasm faded. He didn’t want some robber taking him away. “Yeah. So you mean—” He swallowed hard. “Mom’s right. I shouldn’t do magic stuff.”

  “Did I say that?” Chance shook his head. “The key, young fellow, is to do your magic so that nobody suspects. The first step is to take a good look around and make sure nobody’s watching you.”

  Harry felt good again. He’d tried to hide his magic when he was just fooling around, but when Mom needed him, he’d blundered ahead in full view of everyone. What Mr. Powers said made him feel more in control of himself. On the other hand…

  “It’s not right to keep secrets from Mommy,” he said.

  The man sighed. “I’m glad your mother’s raising you to be honest, and I don’t want to change that. But until you get more skilled at doing magic, she isn’t going to believe you.”

  Was it possible that Mr. Powers meant what Harry thought he did? “You mean you could help me get better? And then we could show Mom, and she’d stop giving me such a hard time?”

  “I hope that’s how it will work.”

  Harry decided he could trust this new friend, and not just because Mom liked him. There was something about Mr. Powers that seemed familiar, as if Harry knew him already. And he understood about the magic, which nobody else did.

  “Okay,” Harry said. “What do we do?”

  Chance surveyed the carport area and the adjacent street. “Can anybody see us?”

  A delivery truck poked out of a driveway across the street. “He might notice something.”

  “Then let’s wait.”

  It took several minutes, while a group of kids walked by on the sidewalk and then a lady came outside to empty her trash, before the coast was clear. Harry was afraid Mom would return before they got the job done, but finally Chance gave him the go-ahead.

  “Now, here’s something to consider,” the man said. “If you inflate one tire all the way, what will happen?”

  Harry squinted at the car. “It’ll be tipped funny.”

  “And something might get damaged.”

  “I should take turns, so they all get filled up a little at a time, right?” Harry was proud of himself for figuring it out

  “Right.” Mr. Powers reached over and ruffled his hair. It was the kind of fond gesture that John Abernathy’s father—the weekend dad who brought him to school on Monday mornings—sometimes used when he said goodbye. It gave Harry a warm, squishy feeling. “Want to
try it?”

  “Sure.” Harry squinted at the tires. This was harder than anything he’d done before, because he had to keep working at it. The car perked up a little but after a few minutes he couldn’t push it anymore.

  “I guess I’m not good enough,” he said.

  An eyebrow lifted. “Not good enough? Do you know any other little boys who can put air into tires just by thinking about it?”

  That made Harry feel better. “No.”

  “You need to learn how to focus.” A half smile touched the man’s face, as if he were remembering something. “I had to work things out for myself. I didn’t dare let my father know what I could do because he might make me do too much of it.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Harry said.

  “It will when you’re older.” The man returned his attention to the car. “What you have to do is to visualize the air going into the tire and puffing it out, one centimeter at a time. You were probably trying to do it all at once, picturing the tire completely back to normal, right?”

  “Sort of.” Harry wasn’t sure what he’d been doing. He’d always relied on instinct.

  “Patience is required to do anything of substance.” Chance’s face took on an expression as if he were staring at something no one else could see.

  Harry got an eerie feeling. He’d never watched anyone else work magic, and he’d never thought about how it would look. Even before anything happened, he could feel power surging through the man. He’s really special.

  Then he forgot everything but the car. Slowly, smoothly, the body began to rise as the tires regained their shape. There was no jerkiness as Mr. Powers transferred his attention from one wheel to another. It was almost as if he could control all four at once, which meant he really had this down pat

  “About thirty pounds per square inch ought to do it,” said Chance, his expression returning to normal.

  Before them, the car stood with quiet dignity on its restored tires. Harry went over and patted the bumper. “Wow,” he said. “Will you teach me how to do that?”

  “Yes, under two conditions,” the man said.

  Harry gulped. He hoped they weren’t anything Mom would disapprove of, because he wanted to learn this stuff more than he’d ever wanted anything, except a father. “Like what?”

  “Number one, nobody outside our household ever sees you do it,” Chance said. “No tricks at school. No impressing your friends.”

  “Okay.” That wouldn’t be easy, but Harry could handle it.

  “And second, you never do anything to hurt or cheat anyone.” Mr. Powers wasn’t smiling now. “No messing with people’s minds or poking into other people’s business. You can play games to amuse yourself, or you can help others if it won’t attract attention, but that’s all.”

  What a relief. Harry had been worried that maybe this new friend would want him to do something bad, but obviously he didn’t. “I swear.”

  “And in return,” Chance said, “I promise to help you become an adept. That’s a person who’s highly skilled at using his abilities. I also promise that we’ll tell your mother as soon as she seems ready. Okay?”

  “Okay, Mr. Powers,” said Harry.

  “You can stop calling me that. My name is Chance.”

  “Sure, Chance.” That felt funny, for some reason. Mr. Powers didn’t exactly fit, but neither did Chance. Harry wished he could call the man Daddy, but he didn’t think either grown-up would approve. A man was either your father or he wasn’t, and wishing wouldn’t make it so.

  A minute later, his mother came out carrying two suitcases. It was hard not to giggle when she saw the car and her mouth dropped open. “How on earth—?”

  “We had a bit of luck,” Chance said.

  “How much did this luck cost?”

  “Nothing.”

  She regarded him skeptically. “A tow truck just happened by and the driver volunteered to inflate my tires out of the goodness of his heart?”

  “Trust me,” said Chance, “it was an act of pure goodwill.”

  Harry hoped she wasn’t going to argue, and to his delight, she didn’t “Well, thank you,” she said, opening the trunk. “But you’re being more than generous, giving us a place to live in addition to a salary. I won’t take advantage of you.”

  “I’m getting far more than my money’s worth.” Chance lifted her suitcases into the car. “Having an assistant at my beck and call will be a tremendous help.”

  Harry hoped the man would offer a ride in his sports car, and maybe he would have, but there was a tightness about Mom’s mouth that warned she wasn’t in the mood for any more favors. And maybe she wouldn’t consider letting her son go for a high-speed whirl much of a favor, at that.

  It didn’t matter, Harry decided as he went back upstairs with his mom and Chance to collect the rest of their possessions. They were going to live with a real magician, and Harry was going to learn how to be one, too.

  THERE WAS A CANYON intersection on the way to Chance’s house that Tara could have sworn she’d seen before. The Art Deco mailbox in front of one house and the unusual angle at which the roads came together rang a bell in her memory, too.

  But in Los Angeles, almost any site might have been used for a shoot She supposed she could have seen this very intersection on television or in a film.

  The blue sports car led the way, which was a good thing, because Tara doubted she could have followed Chance’s written directions. The roads were so twisty, she hoped she wasn’t going to get lost every time she tried to go back to his house.

  As they drove, she realized this was the area in which she and Denise had taken such a disastrous wrong turn on that long ago Halloween. They’d figured later that, since they’d double-checked the street number, they must have been on the wrong road altogether. She could easily see how it must have happened.

  Not for the first time, Tara wondered if she might be able to locate the castle again. But even if she found it, what would she do? Walk right up and introduce a total stranger to his son?

  He probably moved out long ago. Or he’s married. In any event, contacting the man would mean opening a Pandora’s box.

  Maybe someday she would try to find him, but she planned to wait until Harry was in his teens. By that age, she doubted any judge would wrench the boy away from home even if the father did hire a fancy lawyer.

  Tara hadn’t wanted to lie to Harry, so she’d told him simply that some men weren’t ready to be fathers. He had asked if some women weren’t ready to be mothers, a question that gave her pause until she remembered a friend who was adopted, and explained that yes, some moms weren’t ready, either.

  A few blocks later, the sports car turned into a driveway that ran through a wooded lot Eucalyptus and pine trees filtered the sunlight and gave the air a shimmering clarity, as if they were entering the realm of fairy tales.

  They emerged into a small glade with a house set at the far end. The scent of pine filled the car, and Harry bounced in his seat.

  “It’s like being in the mountains!” he crowed as she parked. “Are we really going to live here? Can I have a tree house?”

  “That’s up to Mr. Powers,” Tara said.

  “He told me to call him Chance”.

  “Well, don’t get too familiar,” she warned, without much hope of success. “He’s my boss.”

  As soon as she killed the engine, Harry flung himself out. Dashing through pine needles, he ran around the clearing as if exorcising the demons of city living.

  Chance emerged from a three-car garage, which also sheltered a black Lexus and a faded station wagon that probably belonged to the housekeeper. “What a bundle of energy.”

  “He wears me out,” Tara admitted. “Is all this land yours?”

  “Yes. It’s a little over an acre.” From her trunk, he lifted the heaviest cases. She took two string-tied boxes and decided to leave the rest for later.

  The lot was huge for this area, Tara thought, grateful that her son wou
ld have a chance to enjoy the open space. She hoped this job worked out.

  At the front door, Chance addressed the house. “Today’s password is Fennel.”

  “You’ve got yesterday’s password,” scoffed a nasal voice. “Again.”

  “Garlic,” he said.

  “Oh, all right.” The bolt unworked itself. “Did you get a dog?”

  “A dog?” Chance said as he picked up the suitcases.

  “My motion sensors tell me someone is dashing around the place. It’s not my fault I don’t have eyes. And there’s a guest with you. Is she going to be dining in? Rajeev forgot to defrost anything.”

  “We’ll send out for pizza.” Chance sighed. “House, this is Tara Blayne and that ‘dog’ is her son, Harry. They’re going to be living here.”

  “Well, don’t forget to tell them the password every day,” grumped the voice.

  To Tara, Chance said, “He’s kind of snappish. I think he’s frustrated because he and my car broke up.”

  “Excuse me!” growled the house with sarcastic emphasis. “Are you going to stand there all day, or what?”

  “Maybe he’s annoyed because he doesn’t have a name,” Tara teased. “House, would you like for us to think of one?”

  “I like your name,” said the house. “Tara. Wasn’t that the mansion in Gone With the Wind?”

  “I guess I was named after a house, wasn’t I?”, she said as they walked inside, with Harry scampering behind. “I never thought about it”

  “You can’t both be Tara,” said Chance. “We’ll have to give this some thought”

  “How about Manderley?” said the house, citing the stately home from Rebecca.

  “It burned down,” Tara advised.

  Inside, Chance punched some buttons on a pad. She wasn’t sure whether he was resetting the alarm or turning off the computer voice, but it didn’t propose any more names.

  The living room might have been decorated by an Eastern potentate, with furnishings from southern and central Asia. Instinctively, Harry slowed his pace and, to Tara’s relief, refrained from running his hands over the gleaming mahoganies and teaks.