The Magic Touch (15 page)

“Everyone’s been really kind to me,” Ray said, glancing over his shoulder as he skinned potatoes and dropped them into the bowl.

“Mmm-hmm,” Grandma said, busy slicing a big loaf of Italian bread on a battered cutting board over their wobbly Formica-topped table. “Now that you’ve been doing it a few weeks, do you still enjoy it? Is it something you’ll stick with?”

Ray rubbed his thumb over the smooth, pale flesh of a potato. “I think so. It feels so good doing something that helps people. And it’s so easy.”

That brought Grandma’s head snapping up, and she gave him
that look.
Ray quailed, turning his head back to potato and peeler. “It’s
not
easy, child,” she said to his back. “Don’t you think that. It’s a tremendous responsibility. You’ve got the best teacher, and you’ve got the aptitude, so it’s coming easy now, but it won’t always be so.”

“Do you still go out granting wishes, Grandma?” Ray asked, much more meekly.

“Great heavens, yes, child,” Grandma Eustatia said, her voice warm. “I’ve been doing it so long I wouldn’t know how to get along without it.”

“Did you ever take me with you?” Ray asked. There was silence in the kitchen. He peeked back at her. For the first time in his life, he saw his very self-possessed grandmother looking a little embarrassed. He went back to his potatoes and skinned faster.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she said, at last. “You were the tiniest little baby.”

“I didn’t,” Ray assured her. “I just wondered. Is that why you sent me to join the FGU?”

She appeared at his elbow and put her arms around him. Ray dropped his work into the sink, and hugged her.

“I sent you partly for that, and partly because I’ve been worried about you, sweetheart,” Grandma said. “I saw the streets coming too close, threatening to swallow up my golden child. I never had to worry about your mother, or your aunt and uncle. The temptations weren’t so close or easy when they were small. Oh, they committed their share of small sins, the kind that pass and do no harm. But, you! You’re vulnerable. You need to belong somewhere.”

“What about Hakeem?” Ray interrupted. “He’s my best friend. We belong together.”

“He hasn’t been around much lately, has he, honey?” Grandma asked, softly. “I saw him the other day, driving around in a fancy new car.”

“Maybe he got that job he was hoping for,” Ray said sulkily. In the old days, even a year ago, Hakeem would have been on his doorstep to show off something as terrific as a new car even if it was midnight. “I think he’s been busy,” he added loyally. Maybe there was a good reason Hakeem hadn’t been over to share his good fortune yet.

“Maybe so,” Grandma said. “Anyhow, you need a support group that’s bigger than the neighborhood. These are good people, who don’t care what color you are, or how much money you make, or who your daddy is. You know, you’ll always find your best friends among the people with whom you have the most in common. I’ve always wanted you to set your sights on the highest things you can attain. These people will help you if they can. In the meantime, you’re involved in a worthy cause.”

Ray listened with growing respect. That was the longest speech outside of a bedtime story he’d ever heard her give.

“Besides,” she said, going for the record, with a twinkle in her eye, “I like the idea of keeping up the tradition of magic in the family. Our ancestors used magic in their everyday life. Why shouldn’t we?”

Ray grinned. She gave him a short, hard hug before releasing him, then picked up the peeler and handed it to him.

“Come on. Half the day’s wasted,” she said. Ray went back to his task, and Grandma bustled around behind him, opening and closing cupboards. She started humming an old song, then broke into the words in her strong soprano voice.

“… Seems to be all I see reminds me of you. Song birds sing, church bells ring …”

“And I think of you …” Ray joined in, his light baritone less certain, but on key. Joyfully, Grandma’s voice took fire and soared up, ringing in the light fixture on the ceiling. Ray dunked another potato. Definitely, he was
definitely
going to use up some brownie points today, saving a very special one for Grandma.

O O O

He found Chanel sitting on the stoop after Grandma let him go.

“You still sore?” he asked, dropping down to one step below her so their faces were on the same level. He propped his elbows on his knees.

“No, not really,” she admitted, after an unsuccessful attempt to make a woeful face. “I’m waiting for Mikala. We’re going to the park. Ray, I like that little pencil. A lot. Could you find out where your girlfriend”—she corrected herself when she saw his eyebrows lower—“I mean, where your friend got yours? It was really nice, not like the ones in the corner store.”

She had sensed the goodness in it
, Ray thought. Well, she had some hereditary fairy godmother in her, too. “I’ll see,” he promised. “Meantime, isn’t there anything else you wish you had?”

Chanel laughed at how serious he seemed. “Oh, lots of things! Patterned stockings, a dog, a new bicycle, the new Brandy album … a hundred things! How come you’re asking?”

Ray shrugged, and realized he’d caught the mannerism from Rose. “Well, what if you had to break it down to one thing, out of the whole list?”

Chanel narrowed an eye at him. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ray said, turning his palms up casually. In his imagination, the sparks that represented brownie points were jumping impatiently up and down, wanting to be out and doing. Mentally, he told them to be quiet. “Some of the other guys and I were talking about what we’d get if we could have one thing we really liked.”

Chanel frowned, and stared out at the street. “That’s a hard one. Sometimes my friends talk about the same thing. I didn’t know boys thought the same way as girls. Why?” she asked, grinning. “You granting wishes today?”

Ray jumped involuntarily at her choice of words.
It was just a coincidence
, he told himself. She’d seen the wand, and it probably set her subconscious imagination going.

“No! But, maybe I had a little left over from my paycheck this week, and I thought
maybe
I’d be nice to my little sister and brother.”

“Really?” Chanel cried. She threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug. “Oh, you’re the
finest
brother. Do I have to decide now? Can I wait until we go shopping next week?”

Ray raised his eyebrows. “Sure. That’s a good idea.” The brownie points sat down and put their chins on their fists in dejection.

“What’s my money limit?”

“Be reasonable, that’s all,” Ray said. Chanel stuck out her lower lip.

“You’re making me be the grown-up,” she complained. “It’s no fun if I can’t tease you.”

“That’s so I can enjoy the shopping trip, too,” Ray said. She gave him another big hug, then jumped up from the steps.

“Hey!” she shouted. Her friend Mikala, still halfway down the block, looked up, waved her whole arm and shouted back. “Tell Mom I’ll be home by dinner,” Chanel said, and dashed away.

“Okay,” Ray said, to her back. Something attracted his eye, another face watching Chanel. It was a nice day. A lot of people were out, but he was trying to find an uncomfortable gaze. He surveyed the street, checking out all the faces of the people passing, until he saw a Hispanic-looking man whose expression felt wrong to him. Ray stared hard. The other started and glanced around. He turned to Ray with guilty, narrowed eyes, as if upset to be caught looking at a girl. Ray met his gaze steadily, silently warning him off his sister. The man turned away hastily and slunk off.

Ray got up to go in the house as soon as he was gone. He locked the door behind him, and spent a minute standing in the hall, just breathing deeply. His nerves had just taken a wildroller-coaster ride. The stranger might not have meant anything by his admiring glance: Chanel was pretty and young and happy and full of life. Anybody might enjoy watching her. At the same time, the guy could have been a pervert with a gun or a knife in his pocket. Ray had risked a lot going eyeball-to-eyeball with him.

He was going to have to watch over Chanel for a while.

Chapter 14

“Are you serious about that nice girl?” Rose asked, early Wednesday evening. Ray, bless him, looked very spiffy in a button-down short-sleeved shirt and a pair of nice trousers. He resembled a very young substitute math teacher, but he wouldn’t thank her for telling him that, so she just smiled her approval. It was a lovely evening, so bright and warm, with only a suggestion of clouds in the west. As the days grew longer, they’d be able to do more of their work in sunlight, which was a pleasant change from most of the year. Rose looked forward to enjoying their walk. “Have you considered whether one day you’ll make it permanent?”

“Do you mean, do I have honorable intentions toward her?” Ray said, strolling along beside her. “Sure, someday. I mean, we’re steady. I can’t think about marriage for a long time. Neither can she. She wants to be a veterinarian, and that’ll take years more of school. I mean, I’d support her once I got a good job. She really loves to work with animals.”

“And what do
you
want to do after college?” Rose asked. “I know you were a good student. Your grandmother used to
kvell
about you.” When he looked blank, she added, “It’s a special kind of bragging reserved for elder relatives.”

“Oh.” Ray was silent for a little while. “I was okay. I wanted to be a doctor so bad I dreamed of it all the time. Every time I saw a doctor on a TV show, I thought: that’ll be me. And when they started to show African-American doctors, I practically ate the TV guide. But I blew it. I goofed off a little, and my grade point average fell. You know, you have to decide you want to be a doctor in
grade school
,
and stick to it forever, or it just can’t happen.”

“I know,” Rose said, sympathetically. “The system doesn’t let you be a child when you’re a child. The competition is so fierce! Well, what else? You’re good with plants—the ones you’ve learned about,” she said, when Ray grinned with embarrassment. “Have you thought of botany?”

“Yeah, I have,” Ray said, brightening a little. “I like plants, and if I can’t go to medical school, I want a science career of some kind working with them. Botany, marine plant biology, genetics. If I flunk every course at college, I could still become a horticulturalist. It’s a growing field, too.” Rose chuckled at his joke.

“So what, after all the thinking and worrying, did you finally do with the brownie points this weekend?” Rose asked. Ray grimaced. Something clicked when she mentioned brownie points. “You have something on your mind. Want to talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Ray said, his shoulders relaxing. He’d been waiting to unload on her. He told her about the man he’d caught watching Chanel, Rose understood his concern for his little sister. Not that stalking and abduction had been unheard of when she was raising young daughters, but it was far more common now, and far more deadly.

“… And it’s worse now, because I feel like I should be able to do more, now that I’m toting magic, but I couldn’t think of a thing!” he finished breathlessly. Rose was sympathetic. She paused while a flock of youngsters milled past them, talking to one another in unnecessarily loud voices and throwing softballs back and forth.

“You’re right,” she said, when she’d had a moment to think. “We’re not guardian angels. That isn’t what our magic is for. But I think you’re wise to worry. It may be nothing, but it’s always better to err on the side of caution, as my mother always told me. How old is Chanel?”

“Eleven,” Ray said moodily. “I don’t think I really noticed before, but she’s …” He stopped, embarrassed.

“Maturing?” Rose prompted. “Becoming a young lady?” He nodded. “Ah. And you don’t think she’s taking proper care on the street?”

“No!” Ray shouted, then lowered his voice as a dozen people walking nearby glanced toward them in surprise. “She doesn’t even notice anything’s different about the way people look at her. I didn’t either, until yesterday. It’s still a game to her. I know she and her friends are putting on makeup when they get to school, trying to be cool. She washes it off before she comes home, but I saw her once around lunchtime. I don’t think Mom knows.”

“Believe me,” Rose said, with a heavy sigh born of long experience, “they’re not fooling anyone. Your mother will know.”

“I’ve got to do
something
,”
Ray said, scrubbing his fingers in his short hair. Rose was concerned about him. He was really upset. There were puffy bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days. He was almost exhausted with worry, not at all normal for gentle, happy Ray. “Rose, I want to protect her. When I look at her, not as a big brother, but as … as a man, I see she’s really kind of cute. People are going to start hitting on her, and she won’t know what to do. What can
I
do? Could I use brownie points to make sure no one ever messes with Chanel?”

Rose was sympathetic. “That sounds like too much for one poor little brownie point to do, sweetheart,” she said. “It even sounds like it would have to be her miracle.”

“Well, then, give it to her!”

“Me?” Rose asked. “Well, all right, I’ll try. Since you’re the one asking.” She took her wand out of her purse, and felt the air with it. There were need strings that required attention, but none that resonated with Ray’s or Eustatia Green’s family aura. She concentrated, following Ray’s thoughts back to his sister. The girl was happy, wherever she was. She didn’t need a fairy godmother now. Someday, she would.

“It’s
not
her miracle,” Rose said finally, propping the wand over her elbow like a long-stemmed bouquet. “Her miracle’s still in the future. I can’t take that away from her.”

Ray kicked the pavement with the toe of his shoe. “I have to do something!”

“You’re willing to spend brownie points on it?” Rose asked, watching him act out moodily. “I have an idea. I’m sure it would work. Ray? Will you listen?” He stopped. His eyes focused on her. This time he was really paying attention.

“Yeah?”

Rose gripped his hand tightly, willing him, guiding him. “Think of this in your mind: what if no one could ever look at her with evil intentions? That way, bad people who are thinking bad thoughts about innocent young girls
won’t even see her.
Their eyes will turn elsewhere. Ricochet like a bullet. Hmm?” She looked at him with raised brows, waiting for his opinion. Ray frowned.

“But those perverts will just go after some other girl,” he said, raising his shoulders helplessly.

Rose sighed. “It’ll take a long time before we could protect them all, Ray. You’d do nothing else all day long, and you can never get a step ahead of all the bad ones out there.
You
can help
your sister.
Now, make the magic, just like a wish for a child. Every detail, remember. It’s a good idea. It should work.”

Rose waited while Ray worked on formulating the thought. He stood there with his eyes squeezed closed, concentrating until the tendons stood out in his neck. She certainly understood the frustration he felt. It would be wonderful if everyone could be enclosed in a magical shell that kept evil away. But, she reasoned, if you raise someone in a basket, they never learn what the floor feels like under their feet. Experience was good protection, too. Rose acknowledged that in this day and age it might not be enough.

With a strangled gasp, Ray said, “I got it.” He opened his eyes. The image in his mind was so clear he was sure it was printed on his eyes for everyone to see. He envisioned Chanel in a translucent silver capsule that would stay around her wherever she went, forever.
Good
people could see her.
Bad
people would look away.

“Did you picture it?” Rose asked, encouragingly. “How much would it take?”

“About two points,” Ray said, as the sparks in his mind’s eye fought for the honor of granting the wish. The two victors bobbed with joy. “Hey, I’d have three points left!”

“If it’s ready, then do it!”

“I will,” Ray said. He reached into his shirt pocket for the wand, and pictured the silver shield again. Inside it, Chanel was happy and innocent and normal. He waved the wand across in a violent sweep that almost knocked a man into the gutter. The man gave the two fairy godparents a dirty look as he ducked out of their way, and crossed the main street at the light.

“Did it work?” Rose asked.

His smile of relief was as beautiful as the sunset. “Sure did,” Ray said. “I
know
it did. I feel it. Those two points took off like rockets, zing! Right out of my head.”

“They like their work,” Rose said, smiling back at him. “So do I. Well! You ready to help other people’s sisters and brothers?”

“I could climb a skyscraper in my bare feet,” Ray said joyfully, making figure eights and spirals in the air with the star of his wand.

Rose sketched a theatrical flourish. “Then, Dr. Plant Scientist and Concerned Big Brother, find us a need string.”

O O O

Ray went from cage to cage in the city pound with the small Hispanic girl clinging to his hand. With the magic’s aid, they had arrived through the wall just in time to see the attendants going off for a dinner break. He figured they would have half an hour undisturbed, but he prayed the job wouldn’t take that long. The dogs were leaping up in their wire cages, each barking for attention. The smell was incredible, and so was the din. Rose stood at one end of the long room with her hands pressed over her ears. She looked as woeful as he felt. Death Row for dogs, Ray thought. The steel cages were so small. The animals had food and water but no comfort. This was the end of the line. Unwanted, unloved, they had only a few day’s grace before … The thought wrenched his insides so much he could hardly look at the frantic animals clamoring at him.

“I can’t stand this too long,” Ray said to the little girl. “Do you see Bianca anywhere?”

“I don’t know,” Mariana said, looking around her with her brow furrowed. About six, she resembled one of those expensive china dolls with shiny black hair and big, round, black eyes. Tears were leaking down her cheeks. Ray knew exactly how she felt. He was trying not to think of the fate of the poor animals here who didn’t have owners dedicatedly looking for them.

“How come your folks wouldn’t take you down here to look?” Ray asked.

“
Qué?
”

Ray hunkered down in front of her. “
Porqué
,
ah, nuts,
sus padres no buscan en aquí?
”
he asked, wishing he remembered more Spanish from language class.

“
No sé
,” Mariana said. “
Ellos no quieren mi perrita.
” She started to cry in earnest, and Ray felt in his pocket for some tissues. Nothing. She’d used all of his up crying when she had told Ray and Rose her story at home. He glanced up at Rose, who nodded at him significantly. He clutched his wand.
Okay, magic
, he thought to himself,
this is for a child in need who asked for my help. Got any Kleenex?

Suddenly, his shirt pocket sagged. He felt in it, and came up with a handful of white tissues.
Thanks
, he said silently, handing a bundle to Mariana. She buried her whole face in the tissues, sobbing. Ray stroked her hair and waited for her to surface. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Ray’s heart went out to her. He was almost ready to cry, too.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and taking her hand. “
Las policías
will be back. We’ve got to look.”

The girl looked alarmed. “
Las policías!
”
She cast around, terrified.

“Nothing to worry about,” Ray said. “They’re not here. Come on.”

He didn’t know how Mariana distinguished one bark from another, but she must have. As they started into the last row, the girl’s eyes widened, and she actually smiled.

“Bianca!” she shrilled, her voice carrying over the solid wall of barking. “
Es
Bianca!”

At the end of the row, three cages away from a stained door, one bark turned to frenzied yapping. Bianca, a small white mutt, started throwing herself violently at the cage front. Mariana let go of Ray, and flew down the aisle. She plastered herself against the wire cage, as the dog jumped up and down, licking her small mistress’s face over and over. Ray looked to his left. All the cages next to Bianca’s were empty. They had saved the pooch just in time.

“Whew!” Ray said, his shoulders sagging. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here!”

Another brownie point popped up bright and clear in his mind’s eye when they dropped the jubilant child and her wiggling dog off at the small house on the west side of the city. Ray mentally shoved it to one side, refusing to take any joy out of a trip to a house of horror like the pound. He couldn’t even work up enthusiasm for getting to fly all the way to Mariana’s neighborhood, into the city for the dog, and out again, instead of staying in his home turf, as he’d once complained to Rose. Sure, he knew that animals were thrown out of their homes to starve. Sure, he knew people who refused to be responsible for spaying their pets, or couldn’t afford the operation. It depressed him to have the situation shoved in his face.

Rose held out her wand to feel for need strings.

“Aha! I found one that’s almost all the way home. Very convenient. I don’t want to walk all the way, and I’m sure you don’t.” She looked at Ray, and let the wand drop to her side.

“Honey, talk to me. You’re sulking.”

“I’m
not
sulking,” Ray shouted. “I’m just not talking. That was a heavy situation.”

“I know. It happens. I hate to see it myself. It’s hard to take comfort in one little doggie going home when the others … well, you know.”

“Yeah.” Ray looked around for a stone to kick. There were none on the pavement anywhere close. He saw a cigarette butt in the grass, and kicked that, instead. Two steps later, his feet were above the ground and rising. The magic swept them swiftly over rows of apartment houses, knots of expressways full of honking cars, and more houses. To his right he saw the skyscrapers of the Loop. They were traveling almost at eye level with the antennae on top of the Hancock Building and the Sears Tower. They flew over Wrigley Field, a cup of light in the middle of the surrounding neighborhood, just in time to see the graphics on the electronic scoreboard explode into stars and patterns for a home run. He could hear the cheers. Ray watched it all rush past him without a word. Part of his mind was appalled at him for being unable to enjoy it.