Crystal Beach (Crow Hill Book 1)

by Tom Larcombe

  I hate those things, Michael thought. I guess with only a Talent instead of full-blown wizard skills, dad can use them. And he needs it for his business.

  Michael went back to bed, but had trouble getting to sleep. When the sky lightened, he got up so he could meet Jeff on time.

  He cooked his omelet, staring at the small jets of flame on the stove.

  Heck, I bet the mine has no credit now either. They probably run that through the same system even if I don't use a physical card. Good thing I got the propane tank filled last month. If I'm careful it'll last a while.

  He snagged a cup of coffee, sipping it as the omelet finished cooking. Then he took his plate to the table and sat down.

  Sure is quiet this morning. I'm used to hearing Joshua snore from out here even, or hearing him move around since he's normally up before me.

  After breakfast he decided to liven up his morning a little. When he opened the door and whistled for Calvin, he held a handful of Cheetos.

  “Calvin, Payday!” he yelled.

  The crow arrived immediately. He seemed to appear from nowhere as he perched on Michael's arm. Michael held his other hand, the one containing the Cheetos, close to Calvin. The crow tore into them like a teenage boy that hadn't eaten in a day.

  “Joshua's gone, so you can come in and out whenever you like. I'll leave the door open for you from when I get up until it gets dark out.”

  Calvin paused his demolition of the orange snacks for just long enough to let out a soft 'Caw'.

  “There's someone coming to stay for a while. She'll be here soon, I hope. I think you'll like her, I know I do. I hadn't thought about her in years, well not often anyhow, until she called last night. There's just something comforting about being around her.”

  Calvin shifted his position so he could reach the last of the Cheetos in Michael's hand. He took them in his beak and flew out to land on the fence. With a dip of his head to Michael, he took flight.

  Michael went back in and filled Calvin's food and water for later on, then he headed out to the garden.

  * * *

  Jeff arrived a few minutes later. He looked excited about something.

  “Morning Michael.”

  “Good morning Jeff. You look like you're in a good mood.”

  “My mom got a job, at least a temporary one,” Jeff said.

  “That's great, where's she working?”

  “The grocery store. They used to have security guards that watched their camera feeds, but now they have those guys out front. They still needed someone to watch the feeds though. When mom was there last night shopping, she saw them put out a help wanted sign. She went and talked to the manager right away. He knows her and knows that she actually does her job, when she has one, so she got hired on the spot.”

  “That is good news. I'm glad for her.”

  “Well, it's only temporary, until the credit card machines are working again, it beats nothing though.”

  “Well, with both of you working, maybe you guys can catch up some. Right now, let's work on the garden.”

  “Sure thing. I meant to ask, do you mind if I spend some extra time working on it tomorrow? Oh, and I also need to ask if I can bring my sister with me. Mom will be at work tomorrow morning.”

  “What about school?” Michael asked.

  “Tomorrow's Saturday, there's no school.”

  “Oh... Sure, you can spend extra time here tomorrow. Bring your sister along, maybe she'll want to learn some gardening too.”

  “And maybe pigs will fly. She wouldn't want to get all dirty.”

  “We'll see. Maybe she'll surprise you. I'm going to be working on weeding my plants today. You need anything?”

  “Nope, I'm good. I hope to finish the second of these beds by the time I'm done tomorrow. Get some more things planted. You said you'll talk to Miriam about that egg thing? I can do some work there on Sunday if she's interested.”

  “I'll talk to her later this morning. I have my gardening class at ten.”

  The two of them worked on their gardens until it was time for Jeff to leave for school. Michael grabbed everything he'd need for his class, thinking that he'd just show up early instead of using extra gas to come back home after dropping Jeff off.

  * * *

  He sat in the community center waiting for his students. While he did so, he tried to think of anything else he might need in case things continued to get worse.

  Gas could be a problem. I've only got a few hundred dollars on hand. There's nowhere to sell any of my gold or silver in town, well maybe private parties, but I wouldn't get nearly what it's worth. So maybe a bike? I could get one for Jeff also if I can find some used ones cheap. Then I could save gas by not picking him up from school.

  Michael glanced up at the clock. Class was supposed to start in ten minutes and no-one was here yet. Normally his students started arriving as much as half an hour early. Five minutes later, the whole class came in together. He didn't want to interrupt them since they were talking so he just waited and listened.

  “I couldn't believe it. I was almost out of gas and they wouldn't take my card. Then when I went to the bank they told me that I could only withdraw two hundred and fifty dollars. I swear, if they weren't the only one in town, I'd switch banks.”

  “Well, you're right on my way into town,” Miriam said, “so it isn't a problem for me to give you a ride.”

  “Yes, well, thank you again. I'll go get some gas after I get home.”

  Once the students had settled in Michael began the class. He was currently teaching them how to gauge the correct amount to use when it was necessary to water. This class covered that and some techniques that would increase the harvest on their garden. Things like removing suckers from the crotch on a tomato plant. He'd already covered preparing the garden bed, amendments, and choosing seeds that would do best in their area in earlier classes.

  When the class was done, he motioned to Miriam. She walked up to him.

  “I'm sorry teacher, was I bad? Do I have to stay after school?” she teased with a grin.

  “Never. I've a favor to ask.”

  “You need more eggs already?”

  “No, I don't. But I was wondering if you had any chores around your place that you'd prefer not to do? Ones that a healthy teenage boy could do for you, maybe in exchange for some of your eggs.”

  “Always. Some chores I dread and put off until I have to do them. It sounds like there's a story here. If you can keep it brief, I'd love to hear it. I only have time for the short version though since Nancy will be waiting for me to give her a ride home.”

  Michael gave her the abbreviated version of Jeff's story. He finished by saying that he thought Jeff was a good kid and that he'd been working hard when given the chance.

  “Michael, you are a softy aren't you? I'm glad some people still are. I know a few folks around here that would've shot him with rock salt instead of giving him a chance. I'd love to have the boy do some chores for me. My own boys are always too busy to help when I ask them. Send him along Sunday afternoon and I'll see what he can do.”

  “Thank you Miriam, you won't regret it.”

  Miriam left and Michael gathered his materials. Then he went out to his Jeep and drove to the grocery store again. There was a notice board just inside that people used for advertising. He hoped to find a bike or two listed there.

  He hadn't looked at the board since the last time he advertised his gardening class. Then there were empty spots all over the place. Now the board was full, with people's little three by five cards overlapping one another. Most of the cards advertised yard sales or people selling used items. He jotted down the numbers from a pair of cards advertising bicycles for sale, then returned home.

  He called the numbers as soon as he got there. The first number routed him to voice mail. He hung up without leaving a message.

  I'll leave a message for my dad, but I'm not talking to one of those things just to get a hold of someone I don't even kno
w.

  The second number answered after the fifth ring.

  “This is Pete.”

  “Hi, I saw your card at the store. Do you still have some bikes for sale?”

  “Sure thing. You want to come take a look at them?”

  “I'd like that. I need one for an adult male and a second for a teenage boy.”

  “I imagine I can find something for you. I pick up junker bikes people are getting rid of and use them for parts to make new ones. They aren't pretty, but they're in good shape when I'm done with them.”

  “Well, let me have your address and I'll come out after lunch to take a look, if you'll be there.”

  “I'm retired, don't get out much any more, except to ride my own bike. I'll be here.”

  Michael got Pete's address and wrote it down. Then he settled in to make his lunch.

  * * *

  Michael pulled the Jeep into a driveway that led to a small home. Even from in front of the house he could see the spillover from the back yard. Parts of this and that were lying in the side yards and he couldn't identify even a quarter of what he saw. He parked and got out of the car.

  His knock at the door was answered promptly. The man who answered looked to be in his fifties and in fairly good shape.

  “You must be Michael?”

  “You'd be Pete then? I thought you'd be older when you said you were retired.”

  “Nah, I got out of the rat race early. Couldn't stand it any more. Come around back and I'll show you what I've got.”

  The two men walked around the side of the house. Out back there were ten bikes locked to a rack and several others in partial states of completion.

  “Most of them would look better with a good coat of paint. I don't bother with that myself, I let the people that end up with them pick the color and do it themselves.”

  Michael wandered his way down the rack, looking at the bikes.

  “You looking for anything in particular?” Pete asked.

  “Well, I live up on the hill near the mine and gas is getting so dear that I don't want to use my Jeep unless I have to. What do you recommend?”

  “What do you intend to use it for?”

  “I teach a class on gardening in town a couple of times a week. I'd probably use it for my shopping runs also if I got comfortable with it. Assuming I had a way to carry the groceries.”

  “So you don't need anything fancy then? Come on down to the last three down here. They're three speeds, not so popular any more with all the other stuff out there, but they're geared well enough for the hill and pretty comfortable to ride.”

  Pete unlocked the last three bikes in the row and rolled them forward.

  “Give one a try if you like,” he said.

  Michael straddled the bike he thought was adjusted best for his height. He walked it over to the sidewalk that ran around the house. Then he sat down and started peddling.

  This is a lot easier than I remember. I guess they make better bikes now than they did back then.

  He rode down the driveway, then up and down the road a bit before bringing it back around the house.

  “That's pretty good. I can tell I'll be working different muscles in my legs than I'm used to though, especially going up the hill.”

  Pete nodded.

  “You always remember how to ride a bike, you just don't remember how hard it is. That's a pretty sweet ride though, I didn't have to repair that one much at all.”

  Michael looked at the other two.

  “The other one is for a kid I have doing some work for me. If I get him the bike I don't have to pick him up all the time.”

  “So, pretty much the same usage? Around town and up and down the hill?”

  Michael nodded.

  “I'd recommend this one then. It's heavy and sturdy, which are good qualities in a bike intended for a teenage boy.”

  “How much are you asking on these?”

  “A couple months back, it would've been fifty bucks a piece. Now?”

  “Yeah, I know. Everything's more expensive now,” Michael said.

  “I'll let you have them for a hundred and fifty for the pair. If you like, for another twenty bucks I'll throw in a small trailer that can attach to your bike, for carrying groceries and the like.”

  Michael winced.

  Maybe that's not as bad as it sounds. It's only about the equivalent of twelve gallons of gas per bike. That means if we use them fifteen times each they've paid for themselves. Still, maybe I can talk him down some.

  “How about a hundred for the pair?”

  “Can't do that. My pension don't do squat to cover costs nowadays. Selling the stuff I tinker with keeps me in food and drink. I can probably throw in the trailer and still only charge you the hundred and fifty though.”

  Michael and Pete dickered for a bit. Finally they settled on a hundred and twenty-five for the two bikes, a pair of chains and locks for them, and the trailer. Plus, if Pete rode up to Michael's place a couple of times, Michael would fill a grocery bag with vegetables for him each time. Michael knew that Pete was getting the better of the deal. He thought Pete knew it too. They shook hands to seal the deal and Pete helped him fasten the bikes onto the back of the Jeep. The small trailer fit on top of the tiny back seats.

  “Thank you Pete, come on by when you want to collect the rest,” Michael said, counting out a hundred and twenty-five dollars into Pete's hand.

  Michael was driving home when he saw the line of cars in front of him. It was stop and go traffic and it took him a moment to realize what was happening. He glanced at the intersection he was approaching.

  Oh, the power's out so the traffic light is a four way stop now. Well, it's supposed to be at least. That's probably what the problem is.

  When Michael got closer he realized that it wasn't just the power outage. There had been an accident in the intersection and both cars were still in the middle of the road. The driver of one of them was out of the car, but he could see the second driver still in the front seat of the other car.

  Michael pulled his Jeep up all the way off the road and over the curb. He hopped out and ran over to the intersection. The driver who was out of his car had his cell phone in hand and was talking, all while wandering aimlessly around the intersection.

  “Sir, let's get you out of the road, okay?” Michael said.

  The man allowed himself to be guided to the side of the road.

  “Just sit on the curb. Did someone already call 911?”

  “Who do you think I'm talking to? They're telling me it'll be twenty minutes before they get someone here,” the man replied.

  “Well, just stay there. I'm going to check on the other driver.”

  Michael walked over to the car that was still occupied. It's front end was smashed in and fluids were leaking out onto the pavement.

  He looked in through the window and saw the driver, a middle-aged woman. There was blood pouring from a wound in her scalp and, from the looks of the blood on the floor, it had been for a while. The radio was still playing, tuned in to some sort of talk show or news. Michael clutched his mother's ring, nervous about what he knew he had to do.

  He opened the door carefully, but the woman didn't react. When he tried to examine the wound he discovered that it was under her hair. His bandanna came out of his pocket and he wrapped it around his hand. Gently, he moved the hair out of the way. The cut looked clean and he couldn't see anything suggesting damage to the skull. He eased his cloth-wrapped hand onto the wound and applied pressure.

  Proprieties observed, he split off a small portion of his consciousness and sent it into the wound.

  Another one to lay at the feet of the Board. I used to have enough Water magic to heal this wound right up, before they stripped my power from me. Now I'll be lucky if I can get it to stop bleeding. Earth magic first though, that I'm still strong in and I can make sure there's less chance of infection.

  Michael used his Earth magic to slowly shift away any pieces of foreign matter
that had gotten into, or were near, the wound. Once they were out of the way he switched over to Water magic for healing. The radio chatter, which Michael had been ignoring, broke into static with the active use of his magic. The static drew part of his attention so he heard it clearly when the broadcaster stated:

  “We'll interrupt our broadcast every fifteen minutes to repeat this. The President has declared a banking holiday, effective immediately. All banks will be closed for one week. We've been given no more information on the situation except for the statement that additional information will be forthcoming.”

  Oh crap! Things are getting worse already, Michael thought. I need to focus on what I'm doing though. I need to thicken the blood at the surface, help it coagulate.

  He matched his actions to his thoughts, although using his Water magic felt like fumbling in a dark room while wearing a bag over his head. After several minutes he thought that he'd succeeded. The wound felt like it was no longer bleeding or at least was only seeping slowly.

  He couldn't help overhear the man on the curb repeat his story for what seemed like the tenth time.

  “I was turning. I'd stopped since the lights were out. There was no-one else at the intersection so I started to turn. This car came barreling down the road, didn't even slow for the intersection. It slammed into the side of my car. Next thing I remember I was talking on the phone with you and some guy was leading me out of the road.”

  Michael kept the bandanna pressed to the woman's forehead. It seemed an eternity before he heard a siren in the distance. Finally, a paramedic stood behind him.

  “Sir, please let us in to do our job. Tell my partner exactly what you did here, would you?”

  Michael backed away from the car, dropping the blood-soaked bandanna. He turned and told the other paramedic exactly what he'd done, minus the parts he'd done with magic. The paramedic nodded.

  “You did just right, sir. Normally we'd prefer a sterile cloth, but from the amount of blood I can see on the floor of the car, waiting could have been bad. Can you wait for the police and give a statement?”