Midwest Magic Chronicles Boxed Set

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Midwest Magic Chronicles Boxed Set Page 72

by Flint Maxwell


  Gelbus unzipped the hoodie and took in the cool air of the hallway. “So where are we going?”

  “I don’t know yet, but we’ll definitely do something fun, and something Ohioan,” Maria answered. “I need to get my mind off of all this recent stuff and unplug.”

  “Ohioan? Unplug?”

  “Ohio is where we are, and unplug means, like, unwind…let my brain drift, so I don’t have to worry about wars and giant spiders and my dead mother wearing a deceptive jewel around her neck.” She shuddered. “See? I don’t even want to think about it now.”

  Gelbus nodded as he absentmindedly patted Sherlock on top of the head. Sherlock loved the attention, and was too afraid to breathe lest Gelbus stop.

  “We could go to Low Way,” Maria offered.

  Gelbus felt Sherlock’s ears prick up at that.

  “The owner, Gary, loves Sherlock like a member of his own family. Even throws him free food. I personally wouldn’t eat from Low Way’s menu, at least not the greasy-type foods, but you know Sherlock; he eats just about everything.”

  Gelbus nodded. “And what do they have at this Low Way? Do they have activities I would know?”

  Maria crossed her arms as she thought. “Well, it started as a bowling alley, but when bowling suddenly went down the gutter…ha-ha, get it?”

  Gelbus obviously didn’t.

  “Right, other worlds and stuff. You’ll get it by the time the day’s over, and it’s time to go back to Oriceran and the war. But yeah, anyway, they have bowling, putt-putt (which I’m gonna stay away from, for personal reasons), and, according to Gary, the second largest pinball arcade in Ohio. It’s pretty cool. I like it. Haven’t been there in awhile.”

  “Bowling? Putt-putt? Pinball?” Gelbus repeated, his jaw hanging open after the words left his mouth.

  “Yeah, bowling is like throwing a rock at ten bottle-looking things. Putt-putt is where you take a stick and hit a ball into a small hole. Pinball is just magical. I’ll save that one for you to find out on your own.”

  “It seems you Earthlings really love your balls,” Gelbus observed.

  Maria’s eyes darted to Sherlock and she looked like she was about to be sick, her cheeks puffing out, her face flushing red. Quickly, in what sounded like an explosion, she burst out laughing, repeating what Gelbus had said.

  “We really like our balls! Oh, man, too bad Tabby and Claire weren’t here to hear that one,” she said.

  Sherlock now lay on the ground, his front legs covering his face as his back went up and down and air snorted from his nostrils—Laughing, or trying to laugh, Gelbus thought.

  He didn’t understand what was so funny, but he was glad he could cheer them up.

  Maria patted him on the back before turning back down the hall. “Man, Gelbus, you are a funny Gnome. I’m glad I saved you from that prison.”

  “I’m glad, too, Maria. And thank you.”

  She left with Sherlock following at her heels. He was still snorting with that odd form of canine laughter. Gelbus turned back to the mirror and took in his dinosaur outfit. Maria told him a hoodie was worn on the torso of a normal-sized Earthling, but for Gelbus, it stretched nearly to his ankles. As he looked himself up and down, putting the hood on, zipping it up, then taking it off, he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself.

  Ah, I think I am really going to like Earth. Perhaps I’ll become a permanent resident of Ohio, or whatever Maria called this place. There’s nothing for me back in Oriceran—except for a few friends, that is. But I can make new friends here, can’t I? I’m a funny Gnome, after all.

  Gelbus smiled at his reflection one last time and then followed after Maria and Sherlock.

  Before they went to Low Way, they all gathered in the living room. All except for Tabby and Claire, who were spending time with their families until Maria decided to call them up for battle—their words, not Maria’s.

  In the background, images moved and talked and played music on the front of a box. Gelbus vaguely remembered from his studies that this was called a teevee. It was a contraption Earthlings stared at for hours on end. It possessed a small magical signal that zapped the brains of those who watched it. Gelbus found his eyes constantly drawn to the box, which currently showed a man and a woman, locked in one another’s arms, kissing or hugging or crying. Then a voice announced something about a soap network, but Gelbus saw no sign of soap—though the people in the box did look very clean.

  Ignatius and Salem stood in the middle of the living room. Ignatius kept shaking his head and waving everyone away, saying, “This is not a goodbye. We must remain strong. Salem and I will be back.”

  Maria brooded near a big, ratty armchair. Gelbus could tell that she wanted to go with her grandfather and Salem just by the way she crossed her arms and frowned. He hoped she wouldn’t end up going. He was excited to wear his new hoodie out and about, and was even more excited to see Earth. What he had seen so far was vastly different from Oriceran. Different was good, though, especially after his run-in and capture in Ashbourne. I need a vacation more than anyone.

  “Now, you have your crystals?” Ignatius asked.

  Maria and Agnes held up their necklaces. The crystal pendants glowed with a bright light. Communication crystals, the Gnome realized. Never thought I’d be seeing those on Earth.

  “Good, good,” Ignatius said approvingly. “We will be able to communicate with one another whenever we desire.”

  He walked over to Maria and placed a hand on her shoulder. She continued to brood, her mouth set and firm. The young witch longed for adventure; Gelbus could see it plainly on her face. Didn’t she get enough adventure in Ashbourne? Not to mention all of the events that preceded it…

  The way she had described it to Gelbus, he was surprised she’d even had time to sleep. But despite the frown bubbling just below her blank surface, she did look quite rested—even after the terrible dreams she had spoken of in the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry, Maria,” Salem said, walking over to stand next to Ignatius. “We’ll be in and out. A simple operation.”

  Maria let her frown show. “I should be going. It might be dangerous.”

  “Oh,” Ignatius said, smiling, “where we’re going, there won’t be any danger. Zimmy is resting in a place where no one should be able to find her. Not even the Arachnids or those who practice dark magic.”

  It sounded like an obvious lie.

  Maria said nothing.

  Gelbus thought perhaps she was going to cry, like the people on the teevee behind her. But she stayed strong. He could tell she loved her grandfather with all of her being. After all, he was the one who had raised her, and Gelbus often saw their similarities plainly in the measured way they spoke, and the honorable way they carried themselves. Ignatius was a warrior, he had seen war and battle and bloodshed, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him. Gelbus respected the old wizard for that. He respected Maria, too, for taking after her grandfather in that way.

  “Be safe,” Agnes said. She grabbed Salem’s hand and looked deeply into his eyes.

  “I will, doll, don’t worry. I will,” Salem promised.

  He leaned forward to kiss Agnes on the cheek, but at the last moment, Agnes turned her head—whether by accident or on purpose, Gelbus couldn’t say for sure—and they kissed full on the lips.

  Gelbus flushed and averted his eyes. Isn’t there enough of that going on in the teevee? When he looked back at the two, he saw Agnes was smiling.

  Maybe she had done it on purpose.

  Frieda stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Ignatius. There was no more kissing. Gelbus didn’t think he could handle it, if there were; his skin was liable to melt away from his bones, he was so hot. When Frieda and Ignatius parted, they still held each other’s hands, and were looking longingly into one another’s eyes. Maria’s stony disposition broke, and she smiled as she watched her grandfather say his farewells to the dark witch he had become smitten with.

  Sherlock whined as he watched. Gelb
us didn’t think it was a whine of annoyance, but one of sadness.

  Gelbus would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t touched by their exchange. It was sweet and wholesome; exactly what they all needed to see after the nasty business in Ashbourne.

  “We’ll be back in no time,” Ignatius said as he and Frieda parted.

  Maria nodded. Sherlock whined again. Agnes held up her hand in a motionless wave.

  Ignatius and Salem opened a portal through which Gelbus could see the edge of the Dark Forest, a clearing, and tall grass. It was Oriceran, all right.

  The two wizards stepped through. Ignatius offered Maria, Frieda, and Sherlock one final look over his shoulder, then he and Salem disappeared. The portal showered the room in gold sparks as it closed, and all Gelbus could see was the teevee, playing upbeat music and showing a large sandwich they called ‘The Big Mac’.

  The five remaining friends were silent as the teevee played on and on.

  Finally, Maria cleared her throat and spoke up. “Well, I think it’s time we had a little fun. What do you guys think?”

  They all nodded and looked to each other with smiles on their faces.

  Sherlock tilted his head back and howled like a wolf. Gelbus laughed and scratched the Bloodhound’s back.

  They got to Low Way Family Fun Center around the same time that Ignatius and Salem had finished digging up Zimmy Ba, and Harry and his small army of Arachnids were about to pounce on the two unsuspecting wizards. Maria didn’t know this.

  She pulled the door open and ushered her friends inside. Agnes led the way, seeming to be the most calm out of the four, as she had been there once or twice in the past.

  Gelbus paused a few steps beyond the threshold. He had never seen anything like this place. It was as if he was looking up at the night sky, at the galaxies and distant stars, except he was inside. This was a strange magic he did not understand. The floors were the same way: carpeted, yet in a pattern of space-like designs. Each step felt like he was going to fall into a dark oblivion.

  Sherlock padded past him, his head held high, his nose sniffing the air deeply. The scents filling the place were of pizza, pretzels, old beer soaked into the wooden countertops at the bar, old leather shoes just begging to be chewed into an unrecognizable hulk, and sweat. These were some of Sherlock’s favorite smells, and they hit him in an explosion of senses. His mouth watered as he approached the front counter.

  The door banged shut behind them, and Maria walked by the group to take the lead. Frieda had much the same reaction as Gelbus. Her mouth hung open, her eyes were wide, and her heart hadn’t beat this frantically since she had kissed Ignatius for the first time. There was so much going on in this building. A few older gentlemen in matching pink shirts threw balls down a wooden strip of lane much harder than their ages should have allowed them. Then, in an explosion of white bottle-shaped things, an impact that sounded like rumbling thunder, the ball plowed through into darkness, seemingly gone forever. But it always came back.

  Magic, Frieda thought.

  Behind these ball-throwing areas, people held long sticks and rammed them into smaller rock-like balls on top of a green felt table. These men and women were smoking long, cylindrical white pipes that hung from their mouths. They laughed and seemed like they were having a good time. Around the corner was a place called ‘ARCADE’. She heard even more laughter and uproarious noises. She was almost too afraid to look, but curiosity got the best of her. She walked around the corner and saw that the building stretched bigger than she could have imagined. How they managed to do that when it hadn’t looked this big on the outside, Frieda had no idea. There were only a few people out in the open, but they also held sticks and seemed to be hitting small balls of many different bright colors up large areas of green felt. It was like the table game behind her, but much bigger.

  “Putt-putt,” Maria supplied from behind her. “It’s pretty fun.”

  “Putt-putt,” Frieda repeated.

  “Yeah, but magic people like ourselves are probably better off avoiding it.”

  “Why so?”

  Agnes joined the conversation, coming up on Frieda’s left and looking out to the putt-putt area. “Well, Maria here had a slight run in at a different putt-putt course that involved an exploding clown head.”

  “The Silver Griffins opened an investigation and everything,” Maria said, nodding. “It was a whole big deal. But I think I can control my magic a little better now.” She sighed. “Just know that putt-putt can get pretty frustrating. It’s definitely not a good game to play if you need to blow off steam.”

  “Blow off steam?” the dark witch repeated.

  “Yeah. Kickboxing is better for doing that.” Maria mimed what kickboxing was and Frieda understood immediately. “Here,” Maria said, holding out a neon green strip of paper with a hole in it. “Put this on.” She held up her wrist to demonstrate how to wear it. “It’s a wristband. It’s so the workers know you’ve paid and aren’t trying to rip them off.” Maria helped Frieda put the wristband on.

  Gelbus walked up last, his own wristband loose and hanging off of his hand. He unzipped his hoodie slightly, his scraggly chin hair poking through, and said, “Why, Maria, this is quite amazing.”

  Maria grinned. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Agnes laughed. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.

  Maria nodded. “Pinball.”

  She looked behind her to the front desk and the snack bar next to it. Sherlock was sitting on one of the stools, his head resting on the countertop. Maria whistled for him, but the Bloodhound duly ignored her. An older gentleman dressed in an apron, his gray hair tied back in a ponytail, stood behind the counter, feeding the dog strips of potatoes from a small wicker basket lined with wax paper.

  “Oh, he’s not coming any time soon,” Gelbus said. “Not if there’s food involved.”

  “I told Gary not to feed him until after we bowled and played pinball,” Maria said, shaking her head.

  “Ah, let the dog have his food,” Agnes said.

  “So much for the diet he told me he was going on,” Maria grumbled. “C’mon, let’s go play. I’m sure Sherlock will find his way to us after he’s full.”

  “If he ever gets full,” Gelbus said, zipping his hoodie up to cover his face.

  “Good point,” Maria said.

  They walked on toward the arcade, where a large sign taking up the back wall read: OHIO’S SECOND LARGEST PINBALL PARLOR. Both Frieda and Gelbus stopped and stared in awe at the large games lining the room. They were brightly lit and colorful. Some of them had themes. Space, dinosaurs (which Gelbus was immediately drawn to), monsters. Maria dug into her bag, which still contained the dreaded music box, and pulled out a small, purple drawstring bag with gold writing on the front of it. Gelbus’s Earth English was not as sharp as it once was—the ale and wine had a little something to do with that—but he thought the gold letters read: CROWN ROYALE. What that meant, he had no clue. The bag jingled, and when Maria opened it, Gelbus saw shiny coins within, though they were nothing compared to the coins he had seen in Oriceran. Still, he was drawn to them. He reached out, and Maria slapped his hand away.

  “Easy, my Gnome friend,” Maria said. “We have to pace ourselves.” Slowly, she reached her hand into the bag and pulled out two coins. She put them in Gelbus’s palm, and then took out six more. She kept two for herself, gave two to Frieda, and two to Agnes, who shook her head.

  “Just gonna watch. Should be fun.” Agnes smirked.

  “You say that now, but I bet you’ll be begging for a few quarters when you hear the chimes and jingles,” Maria laughed.

  “We’ll see, we’ll see.”

  Maria shrugged and put the coins, which Gelbus realized were called ‘quarters’, into a slot about eye level to the Gnome. When the second one went in, the machine in front of her lit up and chimed and jingled like Maria had said it was going to.

  “See?” she asked, as she pushed buttons on t
he side of the long, rectangular box. Doing a double take, she chuckled. “Actually, looks like you can’t see.” She left the arcade area for a second, giving Gelbus a chance to look around.

  For the first time, he noticed they were not alone in the arcade room. A few younger people, who were around the same height as Gelbus, were holding fake weapons that looked like the guns he seen in his studies while they shot at a screen showing gruesome monsters. There was a taller person nearby holding a small device in their hand; the light from it painted their skin in a ghostly glow. Beyond them, two more people of taller stature but younger faces threw a bright orange ball into a red metal circle with what looked like a mesh net hanging below it. Each time the ball went through the metal ring, an alarm went off, and the people shouted out a cry of joy.

  Earthlings. I’ll never understand them…that’s why I love them!

  Maria came back shortly after, dragging a chair behind her. “Here, stand on this.” She scooted the back of the chair up against the front of the pinball machine, and Gelbus climbed on top of it. “So, you pull this thing back.” Maria made the motion, but didn’t actually pull the hammer. “Then you hit the buttons to control the paddles. The goal is to keep the shiny metal ball from going past the paddles.” She looked to Frieda. “Did you hear that, Frieda?”

  Frieda nodded, looking eager to get on with the game. “Sounds easy enough.”

  “All right,” Maria said, taking her place at the pinball machine in between the Gnome and the dark witch.

  Her machine had spaceships, little green aliens, and ray guns—the stuff Gelbus recognized as ‘Pulp Fiction’ from his studies of Earth, which had been a subject of great interest to the Gnomes. Gelbus took up residence at the dinosaur themed machine, and Frieda stood in front of the monster one.

  “Three games,” Maria said firmly. “Whoever has the highest score gets a free milkshake.”

 

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