by Obert Skye
Phil extended his hand to Ozzy. “Nice to meet you . . . Crimsdale, was it?”
“Yes,” Ozzy said, his face turning red over the dumb fake name Rin had given him.
“Well, Crimsdale and I need to go,” Rin said again. “Family stuff.”
“Hold on just a sec.”
“We’re pretty busy,” the wizard insisted.
“Right . . . with your spells and family stuff.”
Ozzy was trying very hard not to sweat. The way Phil was talking to them no longer seemed friendly.
“What’s the story here? Why would you want to know about us moving things from so long ago? And I know your family, Bri—Labyrinth. You don’t have a nephew.”
“Genealogy is complicated,” Rin tried. “He’s the half-son of my third cousin completely removed.”
Ozzy kept willing Rin to just stop talking and take out his wand.
Phil looked at Ozzy. “Is everything okay, here, Crimsdale?”
“Everything’s great. Have a magical day,” Rin said while pushing Ozzy through the door and outside. Phil called out after them but didn’t make a move.
“Go faster,” Rin ordered as they ran to the car.
“Crimsdale?” Ozzy asked, still baffled by the name.
“It was the name of my first goldfish.”
“Crimsdale?”
“In Quarfelt it’s a noble moniker.”
“We’re not in Quarfelt.”
“Don’t remind me,” the wizard said. “Now get in the car.”
Ozzy climbed in and Rin started the vehicle.
“Buckle up!”
Phil wasn’t chasing them, but it still felt like a good idea to go fast. Rin pressed on the gas and the small car shot off like a rocket.
“Why didn’t you just take out your wand and freeze them?” Clark asked as he hopped out of Ozzy’s pocket and up onto the dashboard.
“It wasn’t the right time.”
“When is?”
“You need to understand something,” Rin said loudly. “Being a wizard is a responsibility. You must choose your moments of power wisely.”
“What about me being invisible?” Ozzy asked. “He was just blind.”
“Was he?” Rin asked, trying to make it sound like a wise question.
“Yes.”
“The invisibility must have worn off. The point is that we got the information that we needed and now we know the Doyles are no help at all.”
“So what now?” Ozzy asked.
“We’re going to see Ed.”
“Who’s Ed?”
“He used to own the moving company that I cursed out of business.”
“You think he’ll talk to us?”
“The adventure is in not knowing.”
“Well, there’s one thing I do know,” Clark spoke up. “And that’s that Ozzy and I both feel uncertain about all of this.”
“Then let’s see where uncertainty takes us.”
Rin stepped on the gas and the little car careened down the highway.
Rin headed away from town.
“Why are we leaving Otter Rock?”
“Ed lives in Bell’s Ferry. It’s about ten miles away.”
“This is the direction I live.”
“I know—I remember the hike well. My knees still hurt.”
“Can your car make it that far?” Ozzy asked, having really no idea how cars worked.
“It’s my ex-wife’s car now . . . and yes.”
“You were married?”
“For fifteen years. We got divorced about ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t a great time for me.”
“But she still lets you use the car?”
“Let is a strong word. She’s just not always around to stop me. I souped it up, but she got it in the divorce. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Don’t you have a broomstick to fly on or . . . can’t you travel by floo powder?”
“Wizards travel many ways. I left my broom in Quarfelt.”
“Why?”
Rin was silent for a minute, letting the rumble of the car moving over the road be the only audible conversation.
“Is that a question you don’t want to answer?” Ozzy finally asked.
“No, it’s fine. You need to know that I had no desire to abandon Quarfelt. When I did, it was swift and I had to leave a number of things I loved behind—such as my broom.”
“Sorry.”
“Things happen for a lesson.”
“Hey,” Clark said, standing on the dashboard and pointing out the front window. “There’s the train tracks.”
The small car bumped over the tracks.
“That’s where I used to get on the schoolbus,” Ozzy explained. “Mr. Goote wouldn’t stop for me so I just stood by the tracks. He has to open the door to check for trains because it’s the law. That’s when I would hop on.”
“I’m not surprised you figured that out. Did you know that spirits board schoolbuses in just the same way? They float down the tracks and hop on buses when they need to change direction.”
“Is that true?” Ozzy asked.
“Yes,” Rin said. “Have you ever felt anyone else waiting with you at the tracks?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I have,” Clark said. “Sometimes when I’m waiting for Ozzy at the tracks, I see things blowing around. Last week I saw a bag just drifting up and down.”
“That was probably Harold.”
“Of course,” the bird said, having no idea who Harold was.
“It’s quite remarkable that you two lived out here alone for so many years,” Rin said sincerely.
“It didn’t feel remarkable,” Ozzy said. “It felt like reality.”
“Still, it’s hard to believe that you powered through such an ordeal. You can read, can’t you?”
“Yes. My mother taught me to before she was taken. I read all the children’s books we had in the house. After that, I read all my parents’ papers, then all the books they’d left in boxes. It was a really great day when I discovered a few crates filled with fiction.”
“That makes sense. Reading can sustain you in Quarfelt. A wizard can go weeks without water, but only days without books.”
“Strangely, that makes sense to me,” Ozzy said.
“Of course. It’s reality that has everything backwards.”
Each mile they drove, Ozzy could feel his life opening up more and more. He had never traveled this far in this direction.
“There are kids out here that go to Otter Rock High,” Ozzy said. “I know there are at least seven who rode my bus.”
“I think the school district goes all the way to Bell’s Ferry. When I was a teacher I had a few students who lived there.”
“You were a teacher?”
“A long time ago.”
“What did you teach?”
“History and math.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Well, let’s just say that when you become a wizard, everything changes.”
“I bet,” Clark said. “You didn’t dress like this before, did you?”
“No. I used to wear a dress shirt and tie just like every other wompin.”
“Wompin?”
“The normals. You know—unwizardly humans.”
“So kind of like muggles?”
“I suppose,” Rin said. “But wompins is a better word.”
“I disagree,” Ozzy said.
“J. K. Rowling got a lot of things right about our world; she also made a number of improvements and mistakes. The residents of Quarfelt used to turn their noses up at her story, but not anymore. Now they have Dumbledore Days. It’s a week in May where all the wizards just go nut
s. You know, put away your wands and robes and wear sandals and ballcaps.”
“That’s your definition of nuts?” Clark said, sounding bothered.
“Some of us braid beads into our beards.”
“Sounds crazy,” Clark chirped.
“How much farther?” Ozzy asked, more interested in the journey at hand.
“Just a couple more miles.”
“So now that the Doyles are on to us, what do we do? I don’t think it’s wise for me to walk around town anymore. Plus, people are going to ask you questions about how you know me.”
“Maybe,” Rin said. “But you’d be surprised by how far out of the way people go to not talk to me. Let’s just have a conversation with Ed and then go from there.”
Ed lived in a modest trailer in a modest neighborhood tucked behind a short, flat, tree-covered hill. He welcomed Rin and Ozzy into his house even though his history with Rin wasn’t great. Ed had bad posture and neglected teeth. He was older than Rin and not as kind-looking.
Ozzy and the wizard sat down on two padded dining room chairs that Ed pulled into the family room next to his La-Z-Boy. All three of the chairs were positioned around a large TV. Ed had graciously muted it so they could hear each other.
“Thanks for talking with us,” Rin said.
“No problem,” Ed replied. “It’s a bad TV time. Wheel doesn’t come on for twenty minutes and heaven knows I can’t stand Jeopardy! Pretty sure some of those questions aren’t even true. What can I do for you?”
“First off, I’m sorry about what I did in the past?”
“Listen, Brian . . .”
“Rin.”
“Whatever,” Ed said, seemingly bothered by the new name. “Like I’ve told you countless times, I don’t blame you for my business going under.”
“You have the charity of a wizard.”
“It ain’t that, it’s just that I was no good with drumming up business. We were about to fold anyway.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” Rin said humbly.
“Who’s the kid?” Ed asked. “And what’s the deal with his finger?”
“This is my nephew. And his birthmark is a sign of intelligence. He’s working on a paper for school and is doing some research. That’s why we’re here.”
“I’m not a man with great imagination, but I can’t for the life of me imagine what I could know that would be considered research.”
“It’s about your old moving company,” Rin explained. “Ozzy’s doing a paper on a couple who moved here about seven years ago.”
“I have a hard time remembering what happened last week,” Ed confessed. “But if I can help . . .”
Rin looked at Ozzy and prompted him to speak with a nod.
“The people who moved here would have moved into a cabin in the undeveloped forest,” Ozzy said.
“There’s more than a few of those houses around here. People like to hide.”
“Right,” Ozzy continued. “This cabin is about five miles outside of Otter Rock and doesn’t have a single road or drive going up to it.”
Ed squeezed his bulbous chin like it was a tennis ball. His eyes twitched and he let out two soft snorts.
“They moved from New York and had hundreds and hundreds of boxes,” Rin added.
Ed’s eyes widened.
“You do know them,” Rin said, having picked up on Ed’s body language.
“Of course,” Ed said. He sighed and took a big breath as if he was suddenly exhausted. “It was one of the hardest jobs we ever had to do. Me and my men hiked those boxes and furniture miles into the woods. There were so many boxes that it practically filled up the cabin. It took us forever to move all that stuff and my back hurt for weeks after. The man paid us in cash and told us he’d appreciate us not telling anyone they were there. I asked him how much he’d appreciate it and he gave me an extra five hundred dollars.”
“Do you know anything about the man?”
“He had a wife and a child and he didn’t want to give me much more information than that.”
“No last name?” Ozzy asked.
“Not that I can remember. He must have been nuts, moving his family out there with no roads or electricity. Some people are crazy, but Oregon is like Mecca for the weird.”
“Anything else you can tell us?”
“I know he owned a lot of land. We had to figure out how to get the stuff there and we were concerned about trespassing over other property, but this guy had bought hundreds and hundreds of acres around that cabin— from the highway to the cell towers.
“I remember the wife was real friendly and so smart. I was having difficulties figuring out what to charge them and she calculated the number of boxes and distance carried.”
“Where did the boxes come from?” Ozzy asked.
“Not sure . . . I can’t remember. They were all shipped by truck to our old warehouse in Otter Rock. Wait, I remember now. When they arrived, there was no return address on them and the driver of the truck wouldn’t tell us where he’d come from. The boxes were unloaded in our warehouse and then the couple told us where to bring them. It was all a little odd, but that was kind of our specialty—off and odd. I suppose that’s why things eventually went under for us.”
“That and my spells.”
“You’re something else, Rin.”
“Thank you.”
“Why do you care about these people?” Ed asked Ozzy. “And why don’t you just go talk to them?”
“They moved a long time ago,” Ozzy said.
“Really? I wonder who had to move their boxes out. I pray it was dumb Doyle.”
“Probably was,” Rin lied.
“Anything more you can tell us?” Ozzy asked.
“No, and if you’d asked me about any other job, I wouldn’t have remembered. There’s something about carrying so many boxes for so many miles that stuck in my craw.”
“One more question,” Ozzy said. “Did you ever tell anyone else about them living out there?”
“No. That extra five hundred meant a lot to me. Of course, I can’t speak for my employees. They might have said something even though they weren’t supposed to. And seven years is a long time. Look at me—I’m talking now.”
“Right,” Ozzy said.
“Well, Ed, we should go,” Rin said. “But before we do, are there any spells you might need or wizardly acts I can perform? How’s your sleep?”
“I still don’t believe you’re a wizard,” Ed reminded Rin.
“Oh, how ignorance clouds our intelligence.”
“Whatever,” Ed said, standing up.
“Wait,” Ozzy said. “By any chance do you remember doing business with some men wearing green about the same time? Maybe they talked to your men?”
“No business, but—” Ed said excitedly, “I do remember seeing a group of men wearing all green at the gas station up the street years ago. It was weird because they looked out of place and they were arguing with the gas station attendant about filling up the van. All of them were in green. I would have thought they were hunters, but their clothes were solid green, not camo. Plus they were obviously not outdoorsy.”
“What kind of van were they driving?” Rin asked.
“Red. I remember because it looked like Christmas when they stood next to it.”
“I get that,” Ozzy said.
“I remember now—I was with my employee Matt and he talked to one of them while he was buying some zebra cakes.”
“Really?” Ozzy said, now working to keep his excitement under control. “What did they talk about?”
“I don’t know . . . and you can’t ask Matt because he died five years ago in a four-wheeler accident.”
“Anything else?” Ozzy pleaded.
“It was a really nice four-wheeler?” Ed said, looking confused
.
“No—anything else about the men in green?”
“Oh. No. That’s it. Green men, red van, seemed out of place.”
“Did any of them have beards?”
“Could have. I hate to be rude, but Wheel starts after these commercials.”
“Right,” Rin said. “Well, thanks for your time and for being so forgiving for things someone may or may not have done in the past.”
“Again, I don’t blame you—and I don’t think magic is real.”
“You’re wrong about—”
“Wheel’s on,” Ed interrupted. “See ya.”
Ozzy and Rin left Ed’s home and drove to the gas station up the street that was just off Mule Pole Highway. Ozzy went inside the convenience store, hoping that somehow the green men might still be there all these years later. They weren’t, so he bought a few groceries, including some pepperoni, a loaf of bread, a couple Sprites, and a box of zebra cakes to console himself.
The purchase made the drive home a little better.
Rin dropped Ozzy and Clark off on the highway near the train tracks. On the ride back they had made plans to meet at the Jack-in-the-Box the next day at one-thirty. It was on the edge of town, so Rin felt they would be safe meeting there.
“Plus, they have a breakfast sandwich that uses waffles for the bun.”
Ozzy and Clark hiked back to the cloaked house wondering if they were making progress or spinning in circles. The afternoon was gone, and twilight was making a big showy push to be noticed.
When they arrived home, Ozzy made a pepperoni sandwich and ate it with some canned peaches for dinner. He washed it all down with two bottles of Yoo-hoo.
“You know, it might not be as easy for us to go grocery shopping now that the town’s interested in who you are,” Clark pointed out.
“That’s true.” Ozzy put a bit of a peach in his mouth and swallowed. “There are other grocery stores listed in the ORVG. We’ll just find one that seems safe.”
“So now that you’ve spent the day with Labyrinth, how do you feel about his wizard abilities?”
“I don’t know. I just wonder why he doesn’t do something with his magic wand or pull out a crystal ball and just tell me the answers himself.”
“He did turn you invisible.”