by Geof Johnson
“Okay, maybe you could hurt one of us a little,” Fred said.
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Just a little. Maybe a little shock or something. Can you do that?”
“I think so.” He pointed his hand away from his friends, closed his eyes, and sparks shot from his fingertips.
“Just give me a little shock on my pinky toe.” She removed her shoe.
Jamie put his finger on Fred’s toe, looked at her apprehensively and concentrated. Fred cringed in anticipation.
“I can’t do it,” he said. “The oath must be working.”
Rollie threw his arms up in the air. “Yes!”
“Are you happy now?” Fred asked Rollie.
Rollie grinned.
* * *
The kids went back to the clubhouse the next day. “So what do you think that tingling thing is?” Rollie said.
“I don’t know,” Jamie said, “but I’m not causing it. At least I don’t think I am.”
Fred put both hands flat on the little wooden table they were sitting at. “My mom told me that before we were born, she and your mom touched bellies and she felt a warm tingling. She tells me that story all the time. Maybe it’s the same.”
“Could be,” Rollie said. “Fred, you and Jamie put your hands together on the table.”
They did and Jamie said, “I feel it a little. Rollie, let’s you and me do it.”
They got the same result — just a tiny tingle.
“Let’s all three of us try it,” Jamie said. When they put their hands together, the tingling returned, only this time it was much stronger.
“I feel that,” Rollie said.
“Me, too,” Fred said.
“Keep doing it,” Jamie said. “Try thinking about it, just that and nothing else, and see what happens.
When they did, the feeling grew stronger.
“Wow,” Fred said. “It’s like our own magic.” Rollie made a sour face and she said, “Don’t worry. It’s gotta be something good, ’cause we’re good.”
Rollie still looked unsure. “Jamie, yesterday, how come you said something about remembering from before?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes…sometimes I get these little flashes, ’specially when we’re out here, that seem like memories or something. It’s like I see things in my head that I’ve done before, like blastin’ that rock. I have dreams like that, too.”
“That’s weird,” Rollie said.
“Nah,” Jamie said. “Don’t you ever have flying dreams?”
“Yeah, but I can’t fly.”
“How do you know if you’ve never tried?”
“I’m not flying!” Rollie said.
“Calm down, Rollie,” Fred said. “You know, if we’re gonna be this special little club, we gotta have a name.”
“And a saying,” Rollie said. “A chant, like a team.”
“How about…” Jamie put a finger on his lip. “The Crew? I saw something like that on TV.”
“What’s our chant gonna be?” Rollie asked.
“Let’s each make up a line,” Jamie said. “I’ll start. Let’s see…we’re the Crew….”
Rollie held up one hand. “We can’t be beat….”
Fred finished. “Everybody smell our feet!”
“I like it,” Jamie said. “Let’s do it together.”
They huddled up and put their hands together, one on top of the other and chanted,
“We’re the Crew,
We can’t be beat,
Everybody smell our feet!”
* * *
Jamie woke in the middle of the night, shaken out of a nightmare, heart still racing. He had dreamed of the man in the purple cloak again, only this time Jamie saw him clearly. He had long, black hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and a clean-shaven, handsome face, almost feminine, except for the hard set to the features. Jamie couldn’t shake the feeling he got when he looked into the man’s eyes, the driven, almost insane expression, the hatred.
When Jamie got older, he would learn there was a name for men like him — psychopath.
Chapter 21
“Who wants pickles on their sandwich?” Evelyn asked.
“I don’t want no pickle,” Jamie said.
“I don’t want any pickle.” She put one hand on her hip and looked at her grandson. “Jamie, I’m getting tired of having to correct your grammar. You too, Rollie. You boys are about to start third grade, and you’re old enough to know better. Your parents don’t talk like that, so you shouldn’t either.”
“Our friends do,” Jamie said.
“Fred doesn’t.”
“That’s ’cause Fred’s a goodie two shoes,” Rollie said.
“Am not,” Fred said.
“Enough!” Evelyn said. I don’t want to hear any more hillbilly talk around here. Rollie, I can’t control what you do at your house, but while you’re over here, you’re my responsibility, and I want you to speak correctly from now on. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes ma’am,” both boys said.
“People judge you on how you talk. It’s one of their first impressions, so make it a good one. Okay? Now take your lunch and scoot!”
Chapter 22
“But I want to spend my birthday money,” Jamie said to his mother as they drove to the bank.
“I told you, you only need to deposit half. You can spend the rest on magic stuff if you want,” Rachel said. “Then you’ll have over 200 dollars in your account.”
200 dollars! he thought. That’s a fortune.
The bank was busy for a Tuesday morning, so Jamie and his mother had to wait in line. Jamie amused himself by looking at the people. Two men caught his attention, both wearing black. They look nervous. Suddenly, they both pulled on ski masks and pulled pistols out of their pockets. One man fired his gun at the ceiling and shouted, “Everybody down on the floor, now!”
The crowd hesitated for a moment, and he waved his gun around. “I mean now!” He motioned for the bank guard to hand over his weapon.
Everyone dropped to the floor. Jamie said, “What’s happening?”
“Shut up!” the man said.
“It’s a robbery,” Rachel whispered.
Jamie knew what that was. He saw the loud man pointing his pistol at the people on the floor while another man pointed his at the bank tellers.
“Just do as we say and no one gets hurt.”
Jamie knew he could do something to help, something with magic, but what? His oath wouldn’t allow him to show his power, so he had to think of something subtle, something no one would notice. Something small.
Air is small. I can make it so they can’t breathe.
He focused on the nearest man and imagined an invisible dome around his head, fitted tightly to his neck, that wouldn’t allow air through it. He didn’t know how long it would take for the man to pass out, so Jamie told some of the air to go out of the dome. He forced more and more out until the man staggered and put his hand to his throat, then he collapsed. His partner became alarmed and ran over to see what happened.
His eyes were wide. He pointed his gun at Jamie’s mother and said, “What the hell?” Jamie knew he had to do something fast, before the man panicked and fired.
He had to make him drop the gun. If I make it hot, the bullet in the chamber might fire. His father had explained how gunpowder and bullets work. He needed something else. Jamie focused on the man’s hands, and forced the weapon to send an electric shock that was strong enough to make the man let go of it. The gun fell. Time seemed to slow. Jamie thought of the gun hitting the floor, and how that might make it go off. He lunged forward with both hands out. Even though he wasn’t good at playing catch, he managed to cushion the fall of the weapon just enough so it bounced harmlessly to the marble floor.
The blow from the gun stung like mad, but Jamie managed to shove it across the floor, away from the man, giving the bank guard time to pick it up. He pointed it at the would-be robbers and said, “Hands behind your head.”
* * *
Jamie repeated the story for the zillionth time.
“I wouldn’t be afraid of no robbers,” Rollie said. Then he saw the look on Evelyn’s face and grimaced. “Any robbers.”
“Everyone should be afraid of a man with a gun,” Carl said. “Or a woman. I’ve seen enough gunshot wounds to tell you, it ain’t pretty.” He glanced at Evelyn. “It’s not pretty.” He obviously didn’t want to get in trouble with the grammar police, either.
“I was scared out of my mind, but Jamie was so calm,” Rachel said. “I think he’s going to be in the paper tomorrow. A reporter interviewed him for about twenty minutes.”
“I talked to the bank guard,” Carl said, “and he thinks Jamie probably saved some lives today. That was quick thinking, Buddy.” He smiled the proud father smile.
“Jamie, you’re a hero!” Fred put her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the cheek.
She just had to do that in front of everybody, he thought.
* * *
Carl came home from work the next day and found Rachel in the kitchen. He kissed her and said, “You’re cooking? Where’s your mom?”
“She’s having dinner with some friends. Why, do you have a problem with my cooking?” She smiled.
“No, no, you’re cooking’s great. I’m surprised, that’s all. Seems like your mom’s been getting out and about more these days.” He took his coat off. “I’d have been home sooner, but we were watching the video from the bank’s surveillance cameras. The guys at the station were really impressed with how Jamie reacted when the guy dropped his gun.” He sat in a kitchen chair. “You can see Jamie, on the floor, curled up on his knees, kinda lookin’ up sideways at the guy. And the instant he dropped the gun, Jamie lunges out like a football player who’s making a diving catch, and it hits his hands hard. When it lands on the floor, you can see him shove it away.
“I asked Jamie why he tried to catch it, and he said he thought it might go off it hit the tile floor. That particular gun wouldn’t, but he didn’t know that. It’s just amazing that he thought of that, and reacted to it that fast.”
“He’s an amazing boy,” Rachel said.
“But he’s never shown any athletic skill before. I didn’t know he had it in him.”
“So, let me guess. You want to sign him up for football.” Carl raised his eyebrows, but she said, “Not this year. He’s still too small.”
“Maybe next year?”
“Maybe.”
* * *
Jamie, Fred, and Rollie sat around the little table in the clubhouse.
Rollie frowned. “Maybe the oath isn’t working. If you shocked that guy, you hurt him.”
“No, Rollie,” Fred said. “Jamie had to help people. That’s part of the oath, too. That guy might’ve shot somebody.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He leaned back in the little blue plastic chair. “Jamie, were you scared?”
“I was really scared at first. But when that guy pointed the gun at my mom, I got mad, ’bout the maddest I’ve ever been. I wanted to blast ’em in a million pieces, but I had to settle for a little shock in the hands.”
“See there,” Fred said. “The oath is working. He saved everybody, and nobody saw him do magic.”
“We gotta keep it that way,” Rollie said. “’Cause if my dad finds out, we can’t be friends no more. I mean, anymore.”
Rachel yelled from the back door. Jamie stood. “I gotta go eat. Rollie, don’t worry. We’re always gonna be friends. Let’s do the chant before we go.”
* * *
Jamie, Fred, and Rollie sat in Fred’s basement with their parents, watching the video of their backyard talent show. Evelyn had suggested that they have a dress rehearsal on Fred’s patio before the school talent show the following week.
They were watching Rollie’s ventriloquist act. He and the dummy had on matching costumes — the yellow shirts and green vests that Evelyn made for them.
“This is my favorite part.” Larry turned the volume up on his enormous TV. “I love this joke. Listen.”
Rollie was onscreen, with a fixed grin, the dummy’s mouth was moving. “Hey, Dummy.”
“It’s Rollie,” Rollie said.
“Hey, Rollie the Dummy,” the puppet appeared to say, “Why did the boy duck like the girl duck?”
“Don’t know, Rufus. Why?”
“Because she had that certain je nais se quack.”
Larry slapped his knee. “I love the way you make the dummy look like he’s laughing at his own joke.”
“Maybe you need a dummy, Larry,” Carl said. “Then somebody could laugh at yours.”
“Funny, Carl.” But Larry was smiling.
The families had laughed at Jamie’s act, too. He had spent a lot of time talking with his grandmother about it, and decided that although he would have some tricks work, he would also intentionally drop his cards and misplace the rubber balls. She said it was called slapstick. It was fun.
When they watched Fred’s dance number, the parents gushed about how beautiful she looked.
“I don’t see why you’re going on so much about her,” Rollie said. “It’s just Fred, only with fancier dress-up clothes.”
“And makeup,” Jamie said. “Why are you wearing it, anyway? You don’t need it.”
“Why?” Fred said, “Because I’m pretty without it?”
Jamie had painted himself into a corner. Yes or no, either answer would get him in trouble. What am I gonna say? He looked to Rollie for help, but he only shrugged.
“’Cause…because you just don’t, that’s all.” It was the best he could come up with, but fortunately, the others weren’t paying attention, being more interested in the video.
All except for Fred. She winked at him.
* * *
The following Friday night, Jamie rode with his parents in their new van to the school talent show.
“Are you sure you have everything?” Carl asked for about the tenth time.
“I’m sure, Dad.”
“What did you need the heavy duty fishing line for?”
“Can’t tell.” Actually, he didn’t need it. He only wanted to make his father think he needed it. After a long talk with Fred and Rollie, they had decided that he could use real magic in his shows, but he could only do tricks that other magicians had done, or could do, by non-magical means, and he couldn’t do it for money. Jamie had stayed after school to prepare the stage, or so he said, so that he would have an explanation for the new trick he had prepared. But he planned to use real magic for it, and it was going to be good.
When they got to the school auditorium, the three friends sat up front with the other participants. They were given a schedule and told to be ready and waiting backstage for their turn.
Rollie was one of the first, and he was a hit. Most of the kids at school had seen Jamie’s tricks many times, but almost nobody had seen Rollie’s act, and he’d been practicing hard. He was a natural onstage, with his big grin and easy, relaxed manner.
Jamie went backstage with Fred when it was almost his turn. She was going on after Jamie and was also going to help him with his act. Mrs. Nelson, the principal, announced the acts, and when she called Jamie’s name, he walked across the stage and set down his magic table and equipment. Then he took a flourishing bow with arms spread wide and knocked his magic hat off the table. He got a big laugh.
For each of his tricks, he appeared to fumble and stumble like a clown, dropping the deck of cards and misplacing balls, but for his final trick he was going to use real magic. They’re gonna love this, he thought with a twinge of excitement.
“For my last trick,” Jamie announced, “I will make an ordinary toy block float from my magic hat.” He looked heavenward and made a praying motion and got another laugh. He put the hat on the table and tapped it three times with his wand. “I command you, little block, rise!”
And it did, slowly, about six inches, to gasps from the audience, and hung in midair. Jamie held his ar
ms out theatrically, and after a few seconds, said, “Now, I command you, fall!” He tapped the hat and the colorful cube dropped inside. Jamie got a large round of applause and bowed, but as he did, the block rose again. He looked over at it. “A— hem. I said, I command you, fall!” And it did.
But while Jamie took another bow, the block rose again. Jamie gave it a quick, hard look, and it dropped quickly. The auditorium was filled with laughter. Jamie said to the crowd, “Thank you very much, my name is Jamie Sikes and….”
He stopped when he heard the laughter. The disobedient toy had risen again. Jamie looked at the block, put one hand on his hip and scratched his head. Then he passed one hand over the little wooden cube like he was checking for a string, made a face, and passed it under it, looked at the audience and shrugged. He raised both arms in the air and yelled, “Fall!”
The block rose higher, about eye level. The crowd roared. Jamie flicked the toy and it swung like it was on a string, but when he grabbed it and held it still, he passed his hand over and under it again. He held his arms up in desperation. “Please fall. Pretty please?”
It rose even higher, and the audience howled. Jamie pushed the magic table aside and grabbed the block with both hands. Then he pulled both feet off the ground and hung in the air. The crowd screamed.
Jamie threw his hands in the air. “I give up.” That was Fred’s cue. She dragged a chair across the stage, carrying a pair of scissors. She climbed on the chair, held the scissors over the block and snipped, and it dropped to the floor. Jamie and Fred bowed together to a standing ovation, and they walked offstage.
Mrs. Nelson took the mike again and called Jamie back for another ovation. “Jamie Sikes!” When the audience finally quieted down, she said, “Our next performer is Grace Mary Callahan, otherwise known as Fred, who’s going to tap dance for us.”
But Fred didn’t come out. Rollie stood backstage, waving Jamie over.
“She’s out in the hall,” Rollie whispered. “She doesn’t want to dance.”
Jamie ran back to Mrs. Nelson. “Fred’s not ready. Maybe you can announce the next act.” Jamie followed Rollie out of the side entrance that led to a hall. There he found Fred, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, looking miserable.