Magic, Madness, and Mischief

by Kelly McCullough

  At the words your mom my vision flashed as red as if the whole world had filled with flame. Without thought or pause I slugged Josh in the nose as hard as I could.

  Josh’s hands flew to his face. “Son of—”

  “Boys, my office, now!” The principal seemed to appear from nowhere.

  “Aaron—” I began, still furious, though the fire was fading from my vision.

  He pointed. “Office.”

  I dropped my eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  Josh didn’t say a word, just nodded with his hands still pressed tightly to his nose. I saw blood on his fingers and felt a certain amount of triumph at marking him up. He was two grades ahead of me and probably half again my size. Still, I winced at the sight. I was in sooooo much trouble.

  The principal visibly sighed. “It’s not sir, Kalvan, it’s Aaron.”

  “Even when…” Stop digging and start walking, Kalvan. “Yes, Aaron.”

  He nodded as we headed for the principal’s office. “Better. And, yes, even when you’re in trouble. Maybe especially when you’re in trouble. It’s important to our mission here at Free that you learn to think independently, and that’s a lot harder to do when you’re under pressure from an authority figure. We want you to build the habits that will let you do that once you’ve grown up and gone out on your own. Do you understand what I’m saying, boys?”

  Josh silently nodded again and a little more blood leaked out. Aaron pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Here, use this.” He looked at me expectantly. “Well, do you understand?”

  “I think so?” I said uncertainly.

  “One of our explicit goals in founding the Free School was to help nurture future generations of artists and thinkers and, well, intellectual rebels. A society needs the people who do the day-to-day jobs and the normal type of leaders, and a lot of schools work to shape those people. But it also needs those who aren’t satisfied with ‘because we’ve always done it that way,’ people who will stand in the way and say no when the crowd is all heading in the same direction.”

  The boys’ room was on the way to the office, so we stopped outside for a moment while Josh went in and cleaned up his face and got some tissue to stuff in his nose. When he came back out Aaron took a good look at him and said, “Right, my office first, then you’re off to the nurse afterward.”

  “Cad I go dow?” Josh asked, sounding rather pathetic—acting, I thought, and not particularly good acting.

  “Not yet.” Aaron shook his head. “It doesn’t look broken, and I’ve seen you get and give worse and walk it off. I do want Marsha to take a look at it, but it’ll keep for a few minutes.”

  Josh nodded glumly, then glared icy death at me when Aaron looked away. I felt the look like a gut punch, and his muddy green eyes seemed to whirl and swirl like eddies in a swamp. No matter what happened in the next hour or two, things were a long way from over between us. When we entered Aaron’s office, he pointed at chairs in front of his desk.

  “Sit.”

  I put my backpack on the floor by my feet.

  “Now, tell me what happened; Kalvan first.”

  My heart suddenly started to beat faster as I faced the eternal dilemma of being in trouble with teachers and parents—how to get the mix of truth, omission, and lies just right to minimize punishment without coming off as unbelievable.

  There was no way on earth I was going to tell him about Sparx and the magic stuff. That would probably get me sent for a psych evaluation, so it was completely out. Speaking of which, just then I heard the very slight sound of a zipper and glanced down to see my backpack quietly opening itself. Oh crap! I silently and gently kicked the bag, but the zipper kept moving.

  Aaron cleared his throat. Right, one thing at a time—I needed to deal with the principal before I could solve my magic rabbit problem. Considering what I’d done to the light switch, I definitely didn’t want to tell Aaron about the gym, but I had to weigh up whether Josh would rat on me. I didn’t think so—Josh was too much of a troublemaker to want to get a reputation as a tattletale as well. That way led to everyone else deciding it was fair game to rat him out. But you never know for sure. On the other hand, I couldn’t afford to play the angel, either—Aaron had seen me throw that punch. Even if he hadn’t, Josh’s nose would have given me away.

  So, start with a lie that made me look bad but not too bad, and hope Sparx didn’t blow up my whole life in the next ten seconds. “I was worried about being late to my math class. I’m not doing very well and I can’t afford to get on Scott’s bad side”—Scott was our math/gym teacher. “Anyway, I was hurrying and not paying enough attention to where I was going, so I ran smack into Josh—my fault entirely.”

  As I spoke I felt a sensation of warmth in my throat and across my tongue, a sort of gentle heat like you got sitting near the fireplace. It made a weird contrast with the cold, sick feeling I’d had building in my stomach ever since Josh’s glare after he came back from the bathroom.

  Aaron looked at Josh, who nodded mutely—I could see his eyes flicking back and forth between the top of Aaron’s desk and my backpack, but I didn’t dare look down right then. Keeping eye contact was a really important part of convincing someone of the truth of what you were saying—another useful thing I’d learned from Evelyn and my acting classes, though I wasn’t sure she’d approve of my present application of the lesson.

  “Go on,” Aaron said to me.

  “Then Josh shoved me and told me to watch where I was going and I called him a freaking jerk.”

  “Do you think that was a smart response, Kalvan?”

  “No.” I shook my head, taking the opportunity to glance at my backpack, where a pair of long red ears were slowly emerging—Argh! “I ran into Josh and I should have apologized. But he shouldn’t have pushed me, either!” I was starting to buy into the story I was telling in a way I didn’t normally.

  “No, certainly not. Josh?”

  Josh whipped his gaze up and away from my bag, his eyes looking more than a little wild—I could almost see him reviewing the conversation and figuring out what his answer was supposed to be. “I’m sorry I shoved you, Kalvan, but that was no reason to punch me.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have talked about my mother!” I snapped without even thinking.

  Aaron leaned forward. “What did you say about Kalvan’s mother?”

  I didn’t dare look at Josh. This was where the story would either hold together or fall apart. I held my breath. Josh had no reason to do me any favors, but right now he was in less trouble than he would be if I’d told the truth.

  It would save me even more grief, but Josh didn’t know about the light switch. What he or the principal would make of the rabbit in my bag, on the other hand … I glanced down to see that yes, Sparx had stuck his head out and was glaring up at the other boy. No, not just glaring, he was pointing his paw from his eyes to Josh and back again in the classic I’m watching you gesture. What he hoped to achieve by that and how Josh would react, I couldn’t even guess, and there was nothing at all I could do about it without giving the whole thing away.

  Josh took a deep breath and then mumbled, “It wasn’t really anything, Aaron. I, uh, just said ‘your mother’ when he called me a jerk. It was almost a reflex.” As he spoke, I felt my stomach start to unclench—I might actually get out of this without getting too deep into the weeds.

  “And then Kalvan hit you?” Aaron asked. Josh nodded and I nodded, and much to my surprise so did Sparx.

  “All right. Josh, you’ve lost your open periods for the next week. You’ll be spending them here in the office doing whatever copying and errands Jan needs, or quietly writing me an essay on why you need to keep that temper under control—a thousand words on my desk by next Friday. Understood?”

  “Yes, Aaron.” Josh nodded. “Can I go to the nurse now?”

  “All right, go.” Josh got up and left and Aaron turned back to me while Sparx, sadly, stayed right where he was, in plain sight of anyone on
my side of the desk. I kicked at my backpack again, but he ignored me.

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve been in here by any reckoning, Kalvan. But usually it’s for leaving school grounds or skipping class, or some other nonconformance. But I’ve never had you in here for violence, and I’m quite disappointed in you.”

  “I’m sorry. I behaved badly, and I take full responsibility for my actions.” Taking responsibility was very big with the staff at Free, practically a magic phrase.

  “That’s a good start,” said Aaron.

  I took a deep breath and looked down at the desk. “May I explain? I don’t want to make an excuse or try to justify my behavior, and I’m not asking you to change any decision about my punishment, but I would like you to understand.” I closed my mouth and waited—going on if he didn’t want to hear it wouldn’t buy me anything.

  “I’m listening.” Listening was another thing they were big on at Free.

  “I know I shouldn’t have punched Josh, but I’m really sensitive about my mother because…” And that was all I could get out.

  I wanted to say more, to tell someone … anyone, about my worries about my mother. About how terrified I was of becoming her and about how I felt the need to protect her, and, and, and! But I literally couldn’t make my throat work—all the heat had faded away, leaving behind a hard, tight knot. Worse, far worse, I could feel tears starting to burn the edges of my eyes. If I tried to say another word I was going to start crying, and that simply wasn’t acceptable.

  Finally, I just shook my head. “Never mind. I screwed up and why doesn’t really matter. I’ll try to do better next time.”

  I heard Aaron’s chair move, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look up from the desk as he came around to my side. It wasn’t until he was standing right next to me that I remembered about Sparx and frantically shifted my attention to my backpack.

  Oh, thank God. The hare had ducked back down into the depths.

  “Kalvan.” Aaron put one hand on my shoulder gently. “It’s all right, really. We all have things we’re defensive or angry about. I’ve met your mom, and I like her. She’s probably a little … fragile, but, then, a lot of people are. I can understand why you’d want to protect her, but you have to know that punching Josh isn’t going to do that. Violence isn’t a good answer.”

  “I do know that, Aaron. I just … I didn’t even think. It was like my fist punched Josh and then let the rest of me in on the deal.”

  “That happens sometimes when we’re really sensitive about a subject, but it’s a response we have to learn to control. Here.” Aaron set a slender book in front of me: Remaining Calm: A Guide to Nonviolent Conflict Resolution for the Young. “I want you to take this home and read it over the next few days. It’s short and I know you read very quickly. When you’re done, and no later than a week from Friday, I want you to write me a five-hundred-word paper on other things you could have done instead of punching Josh, better responses.”

  I took the book. “Thank you. Can I ask a question?”

  “Why did I give Josh a tougher punishment?”

  I nodded. “Uh, yeah. How’d you guess? I mean, I was clearly more in the wrong here.”

  “I’m glad you’re aware of that. The reason is simple: this is the first time I’ve had a violence problem with you, and I’m very much hoping it’ll be the last. Josh … is in here for fighting a lot.”

  That only made me more confused. “All right, then why isn’t he in more trouble than he is? Or if he has such a violence problem, why is he still at Free?”

  “Because we’re all hoping he can turn it around at some point. Under all that bluster and rage he’s basically a good kid in a difficult situation. He’s smart and he’s an extremely talented young artist, and another thing we believe in here at Free is redemption. Now, take this note for Scott and go catch the rest of your math class.”

  I took the note and dropped the book into my backpack from as high up as I dared—stupid rabbit—and then zipped it up and headed for the door.

  As I crossed the threshold into the outer office, Aaron spoke again. “Oh, and Kalvan, I’ve had two little chats with you in barely a week. Try not to go for third time’s the charm, all right? I’m a patient man and you’re a good student, but the ice you’re treading is getting mighty thin and I’d rather not have to have a chat with your parents.”

  “Yes, s—Aaron, I’ll try to keep out of trouble.”

  “That would be for the best. Now, close the door, please.”

  I was barely out into the hall when I felt a sharp thump in the ribs and my backpack bounced wildly.

  “Not now,” I hissed, but I could already hear the zipper opening again. “All right, but it’s got to be quick—and hang on for ten seconds!”

  I quickly ducked into the boys’ room. It was empty, but I went into a stall anyway. “What is wrong with you?!”

  Sparx poked his head out of the bag. “You mean besides being bound in durance vile to a complete chucklehead? Because I’ve got a long list and you’re right at the top, buddy.”

  “I mean back there in the office! What were you thinking? Josh saw you!”

  “You bet he did, and if he hadn’t you’d be in three times the trouble you’re in now—bent over and heaving your guts all over the principal’s desk with a charm of sickness on you.”

  “I’d … wait, what now?”

  “That boy was halfway to hexing you into next Sunday. If I hadn’t intervened you’d probably have barfed all over me as well.”

  “Josh?” I was completely baffled—though I had felt pretty sick to my stomach there for a bit.

  “Of course Josh. Did you not see the sign of bitter water all over him?”

  “Bitter water? Josh?”

  “What are you, a human echo? That one’s a child of water and more than half into the swamps already.”

  “Swamps?” I asked, though I couldn’t help but remember the swirling of those muddy green eyes.

  “Echo … echo … echo.” The hare somehow managed to make a noise like snapping fingers. “Wake up, child of fire. You have enemies in this world simply for what you are. If you don’t learn to recognize them, you’ll be in a world of misery before you half know it.”

  “I don’t … wait, why would you even care?”

  “Remember that list I mentioned, with being bound to you at the top if it, idiot boy? I may be only half-summoned, but that’s enough to put me square in the splash zone if you get squashed. Until I’m shut of you, I need to make sure you don’t draw anything that lands hard on me as well.”

  “Josh?”

  “Probably not the boy himself, but if he marks you out it might draw the eye of more serious trouble. The Rusalka Her ownself, maybe. She’s a mighty power, and strongest now between the Season Crowns.”

  “I … huh? No, you know what? I don’t have time for any of this. I don’t know anything about rusalkas and I don’t care. Josh is just a bully, but he’s hardly a—a bitter-water sorcerer or whatever.”

  “It’s pretty much the opposite of what you are, child of fire. Speaking of which, you’re going to have get a grip on that silver tongue of yours.”

  “What are you even talking about?”

  “The persuasion you laid on your principal. You’ve a powerful gift on that front, and you’d best not let it get away from you any more than it already has. When you back words with the fire of your soul, it can go very wrong very quickly.”

  “I really don’t understand.”

  He put his face in his paws. “Of course you don’t. So, simple words. When you speak, you have the power to make people listen to you, and sometimes to make them believe outright lies. It’s the fascination of fire, and until you learn to control it, it will come on any time you try to hold someone’s attention. Each time you use it will make the next easier. But like any power of fire, it can run wild. Compel belief too often or too forcefully and you will come to believe your own lies, losing all touch wit
h truth and reality.”

  And THAT scared me so much I couldn’t even bear to think about it. “Look, I’m already practically failing math and we’re barely a week into school. That note Aaron wrote has a time on it, and if I don’t get to class soon, I’ll be in real world trouble. So, right now, I’m done with all this magic stuff. We can talk about all of this tonight. Now, I need you to hunker down, hold still, and, most of all, shut up.”

  Sparx shrugged. “Suit yourself, but when things start falling on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  * * *

  Homework, why did it have to be homework? Math. Which made it even worse because I really did have to do it. That’s another Free School thing. Teachers like it if you do your homework, but it’s not absolutely necessary as long as you demonstrate you’ve learned the material.

  Take science. I ignored homework that covered stuff I’d learned in other ways, like reading science fiction or watching documentaries. Since I was doing well on tests, Tanya mostly let me slide. I’d hear about it in my end-of-semester evaluations when I got dinged a bit for not really applying myself, but I could practically recite that lecture in my sleep.

  Kalvan is a really bright student and I enjoy having him in my classes, but he could accomplish so much more if he really applied himself. He seems to have a talent for the material and might even make a good—fill in the teacher’s favorite profession here—but he just isn’t making the effort. I hope he will do better in the next class I have him in. Blah, blah, blahity-blah.

  Actually, that sounded a bit like Oscar, too. It really irritated my stepdad when I didn’t leap at every opportunity to mow the lawn or shovel the sidewalk. Like he’d never dodged his chores as a kid—I’m sooo sure. To hear him tell it, he’d practically run home from school every day—uphill, of course—just so he could push the stinky old lawnmower around and pull dandelions.

  At least my mom didn’t get on my case about the small stuff. I’d hear about it if I failed math, but as long as I kept learning the things I needed to learn she pretty much let me do what interested me. Some of that was because she and the real world operated at about ninety degrees to each other, but I thought in this case it was more about her thinking process being different than her … problems.