Wizard for Hire

by Obert Skye

  Ozzy pointed to the booth closest to the front counter where the phone was.

  “Sure.”

  He sat down and Tamera handed him a menu.

  She walked off to talk with the other customers. Ozzy looked at the phone. It was just sitting there on the counter. He looked at the number he had written on his hand.

  555-SPEL

  Ozzy sat up as straight as he could. He leaned in closer to study the small letters on each button on the front of the phone. He quickly deciphered what numbers SPEL spelled and wrote the translation on his hand.

  555–7735

  Tamera was coming back.

  “So, would you like something to drink?” she asked. “Water, soda?”

  “I’ll take that Sprite stuff, please, in a big glass.”

  “Large Sprite coming right up.”

  Tamera left and walked through a set of swinging doors that led into the kitchen. Ozzy was nervous, but it helped him to know that gaining the service of a wizard was probably never easy. Access to magic and wisdom always came with a price. He was on a quest—and most quests required sacrifices.

  Ozzy leaned up to reach for the phone just as Tamera popped out of the kitchen with his drink. Ozzy moved his hand back and pretended like he was waving and not reaching.

  Tamera smiled as she set the drink down.

  “You’re so friendly,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you know what you want?”

  “Some of that chicken that tastes like oranges.”

  “Orange chicken?”

  Ozzy nodded. “And rice.”

  Tamera wrote down his order and returned to the kitchen.

  It was now or never.

  He leaned over and picked up the phone. Ozzy held it to his ear and heard the dial tone. Watching the kitchen doors, he dialed the number. It took a moment, but he finally heard ringing on the other end. It rang again and again and again.

  Ozzy’s hand was beginning to sweat.

  Two more rings and then a voice spoke.

  “Hello, you have reached the wizard. I am currently unavailable, but if you leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

  The call had gone to voicemail; Ozzy’s heart sank. He didn’t know what to do, so after the beep, he whispered into the phone.

  “I’m looking for the wizard. It’s an emergency and I have no way—”

  “Hello, hello?” a live voice said on the other end.

  “Hello?” Ozzy said back.

  “Is this a real call?” the man asked.

  “I hope so. I’m looking for the wizard?”

  “If this is you boys who were harassing me at Walmart, I’ll curse the lot of you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ozzy said honestly, trying to keep his voice down.

  “Tony?” the man asked.

  “Who’s Tony?”

  “My old neighbor. Thinks he can call me up and make fun of me.”

  “It’s not Tony,” Ozzy said, beginning to doubt his decision to call.

  Tamera came out of the kitchen.

  “I’ll call you right back.”

  Ozzy hung up the phone as quietly as possible while Tamera tended to her other customers. She eventually made her way over to Ozzy and dropped off some soup and an eggroll.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, staring at Ozzy’s forehead.

  He reached up and wiped the sweat away.

  “I’m fine. It’s just . . . the food’s hot.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone sweat before the food’s arrived.”

  “My whole family sweats. I mean . . . we’re . . . big sweaters.”

  Tamara smiled and told him that the rest of his food would be out in a few minutes, then returned to the kitchen.

  Ozzy reached across the counter and picked up the phone again. After dialing, he sank down in the booth, hoping to keep out of sight of the other customers.

  “Hello,” the wizard said. “Who is this?”

  “My name is Ozzy, and I need help.”

  “Ozzy, huh? I used to know a man named Oswald. He had really poor nail hygiene. You know, when someone doesn’t clean under their fingernails and dirt gets—”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Ozzy interrupted, “but is there a place we could meet and discuss things?”

  “Where are you?”

  “In a Chinese restaurant.”

  “What town?”

  “Otter Rock.”

  “Oh, you’re at Tim and Sandra’s place. They have the best egg drop soup.”

  Ozzy didn’t know if they did or didn’t, because he hadn’t tasted the soup yet.

  “So, could we—”

  The front door to the restaurant opened, and two cops walked in. Neither one of them was Officer Greg, but they still made Ozzy’s heart race.

  The cops looked at the counter. Fortunately, they couldn’t see the phone cord that was stretched back and into a booth. Ozzy sunk down even lower.

  “So, could we . . . what?” the wizard asked. “I have to say, this phone call is highly unusual.”

  Tamera came out of the kitchen and saw the cops. She waved them over to a table five booths away from Ozzy.

  “Could we meet somewhere?” Ozzy whispered into the phone, his voice barely audible.

  “Hello?” the wizard asked. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” Ozzy hissed. “Could we meet somewhere?”

  “Listen, there’s a steakhouse in Otter Rock named Bites. I go there every Thursday at four. If you want to talk in person, I’ll see you there tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, I’ll—”

  “Excuse me,” Tamera said nicely. “That phone is for staff only.”

  She had walked over during Ozzy’s hissing and caught him in the act.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Ozzy handed her the phone and she hung it up.

  He looked at the cops. One of them made eye contact with him, causing his whole body to shiver. The cop whispered something to his partner.

  “Are you okay?” Tamara asked Ozzy. “You’re shaking.”

  “I’m fine. I guess I’m just not hungry anymore.”

  Ozzy took out a twenty-dollar bill and put it on the table as he stood up. At the same moment one of the officers stood and began walking their direction.

  “Thanks,” Ozzy said.

  He slipped out of the booth and as calmly as he could, walked to the door and left the restaurant before the cop got there.

  “Hey, Tamera,” the cop said. “Is your bathroom working yet?”

  “It is,” she replied.

  The cop walked to the restroom, not caring a whit about Ozzy.

  A dozen very important people sat around a long, dark, and very expensive table in the main boardroom of the Harken Corporation building. Charles Plankdorf sat at one end and Ray Dungee sat at the other. The people seated on the sides between the two men were also important, but they knew to hold their tongues at the announcement of a long-running and very expensive project being shut down.

  “You need to understand,” Charles said passionately. “This is a mistake.”

  “It has been too many years with no results to indicate that it’s even possible.” Ray’s voice was unwavering.

  “You know it’s possible.”

  “I know it’s over, but still you cling. We have other projects that need our resources, projects that are increasing our stock price nicely.”

  “Projects that pale in comparison to what could be,” Charles said.

  “This isn’t up for discussion. The doctors have been taken care of, the records sealed where they can’t do damage to our company. Any company scientists working on it have been reassigned. Our hope is that in a short time we will no longer ha
ve to think of it at all. Chalk it up to a learning experience. A long, expensive, and unsatisfying experiment.”

  Charles breathed out slowly.

  “Are we clear?” Ray asked.

  Charles nodded and the board moved on to other business.

  Thursday the air was particularly wet. The clouds draped over the forest like soggy paper that could be torn with the slightest touch. Flowers had their faces closed and the birds were silent. Unless you count Clark.

  “It’s kind of eerie today, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Ozzy agreed. “It feels ominous. Like the perfect day for tracking down a wizard.”

  “Do you think he’ll actually show?” Clark asked, sitting on Ozzy’s shoulders as he walked through the trees at the edge of Otter Rock.

  “I hope so,” Ozzy said. “He told me he’s there every Thursday at four.”

  “What do you know about this steakhouse?’

  “Well, according to their ad in the ORVG, they serve the area’s biggest onion rings and they’re family friendly—whatever that means.”

  “Maybe some restaurants hate families.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is he bringing his family?” Clark asked.

  “I don’t know—all I know is that he said I could meet him there today if I wanted to. I just don’t want to walk in and have a bunch of cops take me away.”

  “Then maybe you need a disguise. You know, something to fool them.”

  “Like what?”

  “You could wear one of your mom’s dresses.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Hear me out—we put you in a dress, some of those tall shoes, and a blanket for a shawl. Nobody will know it’s you.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Okay, what about that hat of your dad’s in his closet?”

  “That’s a plate.”

  “Or you could make some sort of outfit from the cardboard boxes. They wouldn’t be looking for a boy in cardboard.”

  “Come on, Clark, that’s not going to work.”

  “Hey, at least I’m trying to be part of the solution.”

  “I could argue that.”

  “Okay,” Clark said, “the outfit’s fine. But if this guy turns out to be a real wizard, what are you going to do? You can’t just tell him that you live in the woods and need your parents. Remember what happened with the cops?”

  “I’m going to tell him that my mom’s sister and brother are missing and that I need his help to find them. That way I won’t have to admit that they’re actually my parents.”

  “If this all goes well, do you think he could conjure up a . . . oh, I don’t know, a bird? Maybe an orange metal one?”

  “Orange, huh?”

  “It’s a very welcoming color.”

  “Well, if this wizard’s the real deal he can do that and more.”

  “A blue one?”

  “Now you want blue?”

  “You said more. Maybe orange with blue wings?”

  “I’m talking about in general. He should be able to help in all ways.”

  Walking through the trees above the school, both Ozzy and Clark could see the students getting out for the day. Ozzy had loved being around other people and now he was exiled.

  “Are you ever going to go back?” Clark asked.

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “What about your charger?”

  “Again, I can’t do anything about that. I’ll have to buy another one.”

  The bird and boy skirted around the school through the trees. They exited the forest well past Main Street and only a few blocks away from Bites Steakhouse.

  “In you go, C,” Ozzy said.

  Clark flew into the front pocket of Ozzy’s hoodie. He stuck his head out of the right side and looked up.

  Ozzy waited for two cars to pass and then crossed the street and walked up to Bites. The restaurant was a large log cabin with a red metal roof and a wide parking lot. There were only a few cars parked there; the asphalt was black and wet.

  A woman about ten years older than Ozzy saw him coming and held open the front door.

  “Welcome to Bites,” she said as he walked in.

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you alone or waiting for someone?”

  The question held a lot of weight for Ozzy. He felt alone and as if he had been waiting for someone his entire life. Now he was looking for a wizard.

  “I think I’m looking for someone.”

  “Well, come in.”

  Ozzy stepped in and looked around like an explorer gazing out into the vast unknown. The walls were decorated with animal heads. Hundreds of single naked lightbulbs dangled from the ceiling to give the place light and ambiance. There were numerous tables and booths and a bar in the middle with a TV at either end. One television had basketball on, the other tennis. The place was relatively empty—a man wearing a suit sat at the bar, a couple at a table were talking loudly about music, and a man in a short off-white robe and pointy felt hat was sitting in a booth by a window.

  “Do you know who you’re looking for?” the girl asked.

  “I do now.”

  Ozzy walked across the restaurant with his hands in his hoodie pocket. He could feel Clark shifting to get a peek at things. He stepped up to the booth.

  “Um, excuse me.”

  The man with the felt hat looked up and stared at Ozzy.

  “I’m looking for a wizard,” Ozzy said softly.

  “Well, now you’re looking at one,” the wizard said with a smile. “I’m Labyrinth, but my friends call me Rin.”

  Rin wore his off-white robe over a black T-shirt and black jeans. His hat was made from grey felt and had a point at the top that drooped forward and down. His fingers were long and he seemed to be in better shape than most of the wizards Ozzy had read about. His face was appropriately weathered and covered with whiskers that were half black, half grey. He had blue eyes and long, curly hair that hung down in front of the left side of his face like withered weeds. A moment passed when Ozzy might have just turned around and left, but Rin’s kind smile was friendly and unthreatening.

  “Whew,” the wizard said with a sigh. “I was worried you were one of those obnoxious kids who gave me grief at Walmart last week. Sit down, please.”

  Ozzy took a seat across from Rin. The booth had tall backs and was made from leather most likely stolen from some of the animals whose heads were hanging on the wall.

  “You found the place all right?” Rin asked.

  “Yes.”

  There was a basket of bread and cups of butter on the table. Rin took a slice of bread and slathered on a nice portion of butter with a knife.

  “I come here every Thursday.” Rin took a big bite. “Have some,” he said, spitting flecks of butter.

  Ozzy wasn’t about to say no.

  “Your eyes,” Rin said. “Very interesting. I’m guessing you’re from the tribe of Mandor.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Of course you don’t—you’re not a wizard.”

  Ozzy looked personally insulted.

  “Sorry, that’s a rough truth for anyone to hear. And who knows, in time, perhaps. I’ve been fortunate enough to have been a wizard for over ten years. If you don’t believe me, then you can leave anytime and this meeting will have never happened.”

  “You mean you’ll erase it from our memories?” Ozzy asked while buttering.

  “No. I mean, yes. It will have happened, but it won’t result in anything. But that’s a wise question. I like people who think outside the cauldron.”

  Ozzy took a bite of bread and looked at Rin.

  “That’s wizard speak for ‘think outside the box,’” Rin explained needlessly.

  “I got it.” />
  “You’re advanced. I can sense that.”

  “I think I’ve seen you before,” Ozzy told him. “I bumped into you on the street once. And you were at the police station.”

  “I get around,” Rin admitted. “Or . . . it was the universe warming us both up to the possibility of me helping you in the future. Or it was a random coincidence. Who’s to say?”

  Rin took a big bite of bread.

  “Your finger,” he said through a mouthful of bread.

  Ozzy looked at the birthmark on his pointer finger.

  “That’s not something you see every day. Which makes it a character trait of value. I know a woman who wears glasses even though she doesn’t need to.”

  “Is that similar?”

  “No, but all things are connected.”

  Clark stirred in his hoodie pocket, reminding Ozzy to get to the point.

  “Right. I was wondering—”

  Rin held up his hand to silence the boy.

  “Before we continue, you need to know a few more things about me. This is actually my least favorite part of this interaction due to the fact that I hate to toot my own horn. Nonetheless, toot I shall. First, I have great powers, naturally. But I also have the wisdom of the ages.”

  Rin stopped talking.

  “Is that it?” Ozzy asked.

  “Let’s see, great power, wisdom of the ages, yep, that covers it. In a very broad sense, of course.”

  The waitress came to the table and refilled Rin’s water.

  “What can I get you to drink?” she asked Ozzy.

  “Do you have that Sprite stuff?”

  “One Sprite, coming up.”

  “She’s one of the better servers,” Rin said as the waitress walked away. “There are a couple here who do a less than wizardly job. So—now that you know about me, let’s hear how I can help.”

  Ozzy cleared his throat.

  “I need to find someone.”

  “Excellent. That is well within the job description of a wizard. Who is this someone?”

  Ozzy glanced around quickly. “If I tell you, will you tell other people? I mean . . . there could be repercussions.”

  Rin looked hurt. “Of course I won’t tell anyone. There is a strict wizard-client privilege. Unless you’ve harmed someone, killed someone, or are looking to do something unlawful. Then it is well within my wizardly rights to blab.”