Black Magic Read online

  “Bakshokah shuey,” Lyle said. He swung the two rings together. When they touched each other they rang instead of clinked, like someone had struck a musical triangle. He handed them to Zach. Zach tugged at them and they remained united.

  “So what’s the trick?”

  “No trick,” Lyle said. He took the rings from Zach, scooped them side by side, and peeled them apart. “It’s magic.”

  “Bull. There’s always a trick.” He took the rings from Lyle and examined each one. Flawless, continuous metal. He slammed them together and they would not join.

  “It doesn’t work because you don’t believe,” Lyle said. “And you won’t believe because it doesn’t work. A nasty cycle. Elements attuned to magic can do amazing things. But without belief, you cannot channel the power to make the magic happen.”

  Lyle reached into his pocket and pulled out a polished gold coin the size of a quarter. The edges were uneven and engravings worn, as if the coin had passed through millions of hands over hundreds of years. He tossed it to Zach.

  “Put that in your pocket,” he said. “And then try again.”

  Zach had enough of this weird dude doing party tricks in his empty store. He tossed back the coin and turned to return the rings to the display.

  “I can see how you would be afraid,” Lyle said. He bounced the coin in his hand. “The power of magic intimidates the weak.”

  Zach spun back to face Lyle.

  “I ain’t afraid of nothing.”

  Lyle delivered a victorious smirk and tossed the coin back to Zach. Zach slipped it in his pocket.

  “Now,” Lyle said. “Focus.”

  Zach felt like an idiot. He held one ring in each hand. He closed his eyes. Nothing.

  “The phrase,” Lyle said. “Bakshokah shuey. Say it.”

  This was so lame. “Bakshokah shuey.” Zach sighed.

  The coin in his pocket warmed. His arms tingled, like they bristled with static electricity. He swung the rings together. When they hit they emitted a high musical note. But Zach didn’t feel them hit. He opened his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. The rings were joined.

  “Awesome,” he whispered.

  He let one of the linked rings drop. He flipped the other off his wrist and into his palm.

  “Bakshokah shuey,” he said with conviction. This time he felt the tingle right away, like the magic had found its path of least resistance and now sought it out on its own. Something in the back of his brain purred like a kitten. The two rings pulled toward each other as if magnetized. He let them swing together. Ping! A chain of three.

  Zach’s jaw went slack.

  “Feel that power?” Lyle said.

  Zach nodded as if drugged. The exhilaration of channeling the magic was beyond description.

  “There’s more where that came from,” Lyle said.

  “Bring it on, dude.”

  “In good time,” Lyle said. “You have some friends who might also enjoy learning some magic?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Zach said.

  “Have them come by,” Lyle said. “One at a time.”

  Zach was afraid of the answer to his next question.

  “What do these rings cost?”

  “How much do you have?”

  Zach paused at the odd answer. He pulled his cash from his pocket.

  “Eight bucks,” he said.

  “Lucky for you they cost four,” Lyle said.

  Lyle held out a hand. His fingernails had a shine to them, like they were coated in clear polish. Zach shrugged and peeled off four dollar bills. Lyle crushed the bills in his grip.

  He pushed the keys of the old register. Each one responded with a deep mechanical click, like the sound of a jail cell locking. The register’s bell rang and the drawer slid open. Lyle placed Zach’s money in the empty tray. The drawer closed and swallowed the payment.

  “Remember, no returns,” he said.

  Zach didn’t know why he’d want to.

  “Come back Tuesday afternoon,” Lyle said, “and learn the craft.”

  The jingling bell ushered Zach back out the door. He looped the rings over his handlebars and took the coin from his pocket.

  On one side was a man’s face in profile. Strange symbols circled the coin’s edge. On the back were a crescent moon and a five-pointed star within a circle. The coin felt warm, and not in a particularly comforting way.

  He picked up his phone and texted the Outsiders.

  dudes u need 2 go 2 town now coolest place just opened.

  Zach pedaled off and Lyle watched him weave his way down Main Street. The boy was young, very young. But he’d used younger. And the downside of a little less developed whapna, or inner being, was more than balanced by this one’s upside of missing moral balance. The power would flow through him with no resistance. If the rest of his friends were as disaffected as he, as ripe for the picking, the Grand Adventure in Citrus Glade would be one for the ages.

  But unlike some of his past Grand Adventures, such as Tangshen, Bhola and Huascarán to name a few, he’d need some inadvertent assistance here as well, some people with a natural inclination to evil that he could cultivate and enhance. He felt the presence of some fine candidates. He’d start that search tomorrow.

  Chapter Eight

  Zach Vreeland sat in his room with the three magic rings. He’d just learned that without the coin in his pocket, the rings were solid steel. He could bang them together as hard as he wanted to and nothing happened.

  He put the coin in his pocket, closed his eyes and tried again.

  “Bakshokah shuey.”

  The coin heated up like a stovetop element. That wonderful rush of energy hit his hands and he felt like he could throw lightning bolts. He studied the rings as they passed through each other. He could not see the transition event. No noise, no pressure. He had learned in science class that everything was made up of atoms with lots of space in between. It was as if the molecules of one ring went out of phase and steered around the ones in the other.

  “Bakshokah shuey.”

  The coin cut back to half power. He pulled the rings apart, and this time they nearly hung together halfway through. He gave them an extra jerk and they came apart.

  “What the hell?” He tried the trick again. This time when he said the incantation, nothing happened at all. No rush of power, no warming coin. He made a second useless attempt. He felt like an idiot.

  He threw the rings against the wall. The trick was a trick. He’d been taken in by that guy in the magic shop. Barry texted that he was on his way down there now. He’d head into town as well and get his damn money back.

  Once Zach got there, he couldn’t wait for Barry. He had a defective product and Lyle was going to answer for it. He barged into the Magic Shop, rings in hand. Lyle came out of the back room in a clacking swirl of the black beaded curtain.

  “Dude,” Zach said, “these things don’t work.”

  Lyle’s mouth tightened. He stared down Zach and his eyes seemed alive with a blue fire behind them. Zach’s bravado withered and his resolute advance through the store slowed to a stop. Something ice cold took residence in Zach’s chest. Lyle stepped up next to Zach and stared down at him like a god from Mount Olympus.

  “Perhaps you want to rephrase that,” Lyle said.

  “I…I couldn’t get the rings…the rings to join.”

  “And when are you supposed to come back?”

  The air around him felt thick and…dark. “T-T-Tuesday.”

  “Then come back then,” Lyle said. “Walk in with an attitude like that again and you’ll walk out a changed boy, and not for the better.”

  Zach felt like he’d just stepped to the edge of a cliff. He wheeled around and restrained himself from running for the door.

  He stepped outside into the bright, liberating sunlight. He shuddered, rounded the corner of the building and leaned against the brick wall. The sunbaked stone felt good.

  Barry appeared at the corner of the square. From head on, the
round kid on the bike looked like an oversized lollipop. He gave Zach a nod of his head. Zach straightened up and slapped on a measure of cool. It was Barry’s turn with Lyle. And he could have the old man to himself.

  Barry saw Zach in front of the Magic Shop and sighed with relief. He’d answered Zach’s text and hoped Zach would still be there. He wasn’t going to admit it, but there was something just a bit sinister about the place. He was much happier entering the store with backup. He pedaled up and his bike screeched to a halt.

  “Go on in, dude,” Zach said.

  Barry gave the Magic Shop a sideways look.

  “You already know the dude,” Barry said. “Come in with me.”

  “He said to send in my friends alone,” Zach said. “Just go in, you woosie.”

  “Woosie” was Barry’s hot-button word. Seven years of being the picked-on fat kid had rolled to a stop when he joined Zach’s merry band. He’d been the woosie when he was out there alone, but those days were sure as hell over.

  Barry set his double chin and marched to the store. He stopped to look in the front window. Between posters of an inverted Houdini and a fortune teller in a turban, there was only one item in the window. A black silk top hat.

  Barry wiped his sweating palms on his shorts. He glanced at Zach, who gave him an exasperated look. Zach made a W with his fingers. Barry plunged through the door. A bell at the top rang. As the door closed behind him, the OPEN sign flipped over to CLOSED on its own and something clicked, like the door deadbolt being thrown. The sound echoed in the dark empty store.

  Lyle Miller leaned against the vacant main display case. The huge brass cash register next to him had a bit of a glow to it.

  “Barry, I’m Lyle. I’ve been waiting for you to drop by.”

  No adult had ever decided to be on a first name basis with Barry before. He instantly felt older.

  “I see you have your eye on the magic hat,” he said.

  Barry repressed a smart-ass comment about there being little else to have his eye on in the shop.

  Lyle walked to the front display and pulled out the silk hat. He balanced it on one finger and spun it like a top. Then, a flick of the wrist, and he caught it in his hand with a flourish. He stepped to the other side of the display counter. He upended the hat so Barry could see the bottom.

  “It’s quite an amazing hat,” Lyle said. “You see it is completely empty. You see it was sitting unattended on the front display before I just extracted it. Nothing could be hidden within.”

  Lyle put the hat on the counter, open end up. He pulled a white handkerchief from his shirt pocket, though the pocket had hung flat against Lyle’s chest and had clearly been empty. He flipped the handkerchief open and spread it across the open end of the hat. He placed his hands over the hat, palms down.

  “Now I say the magic words,” Lyle said. “Bakshokah apnoah.”

  He whipped back the handkerchief. Barry held his breath.

  Lyle reached in and extracted a bright yellow parakeet with pale blue eyes.

  “Whoa, dude,” Barry exhaled.

  The bird chirped twice and perched on Lyle’s finger. He gave it a flip and the bird fluttered off through the beaded doorway.

  “How’d you do it?” Barry asked.

  “Magic, Barry. Magic.”

  “Can you pull anything out of the hat?”

  “Anything that breathes, as long as it fits. One can’t pull out money. One can’t pull out a tiger. Other than that, it’s up to the owner. Give it a try?” Lyle slid the hat across the countertop.

  Fresh sweat broke out on Barry’s palms. He grabbed the hat by the brim and looked inside. Empty. He ventured a finger inside and ran it along the sides and bottom. The red silk inner lining glided across his fingertips.

  “Don’t worry,” Lyle said. “Nothing’s going to bite you in there. Not yet.” He slid a gold coin across the counter. “Put this in your pocket to focus the energy.”

  Barry put the coin in his pocket. When he touched the hat again, it hummed, like an A/C adapter after it’s plugged into a socket. He jerked his hands back.

  Lyle laughed. “Not everyone can handle the power.”

  Barry furrowed his brow. He could handle any power the guy wanted to dish out. Zach had done it. He gripped the hat again and pulled it closer.

  “Now what shall we conjure?” Lyle said. “Let’s start small. A cricket. Cover the hat.”

  Barry laid Lyle’s handkerchief across the hat.

  “Now close your eyes and make a mental picture of the cricket. Both hands over the hat and say bakshokah apnoah.”

  Barry shut his eyes and saw a cricket in his mind. Small, black, shiny, long black legs tucked up in inverted V-shapes. He extended his hands. “Bak-sho-kah-ap-no-ah.”

  The coin in his pocket warmed. His hands tingled. He froze in fear. He opened his eyes and stared at Lyle.

  “Well?” Lyle said. He pointed at the hat.

  Barry slipped the handkerchief off the hat. He reached inside. Something hopped in his palm and his heart skipped a beat. He pulled out his hand and there sat a glossy black cricket. Barry smiled in wonder. The cricket hopped onto the counter and chirped.

  “Well done!” Lyle said. “You’re a natural.”

  Barry tilted the empty hat toward him. “I so want this hat,” Barry said.

  “I’d give it to you,” Lyle said. “But it doesn’t work that way. The owner must have skin in the game. How much money do you have?”

  After hearing what Zach had found in the Magic Shop, Barry had emptied his shoebox bank in preparation. He dumped a handful of cash on the counter. Twelve dollar bills, two quarters and four pennies. He gave Lyle a hopeful look.

  “It’s $6.27,” Lyle said. “Tax included. Your lucky day.” He counted out his cut. “All sales are final, of course.”

  Barry nodded like a bobble-head toy and Lyle rang up the sale on the old cash register. The bell sounded like the bell at a boxing ring, the one that announced the round was over. Or just begun. Lyle pressed at the top hat and it collapsed flat. He slid it toward Barry with one finger.

  “Come back on Tuesday afternoon,” he said. “Learn your new craft.”

  “You bet!”

  Barry left the shop thrilled. For a kid whose parents never let him have pets, what could be cooler than an avenue to create as many as you wanted. Zach waited for him next door.

  “Whatcha got?” Zach asked.

  “Most radical thing you’ve ever seen,” Barry said.

  Back in the shop, Lyle polished the top of the display case with his handkerchief and then tossed it into the air. It vanished in a puff of white smoke.

  The parakeet flew back into the room fast as a streak of yellow lightning. It alighted on the top of the register. Its pale blue eyes now glowed bright cobalt. It cocked its head at the cricket on the counter.

  The cricket chirped. The parakeet launched itself like a golden rocket. It hit the glass counter top with a thwack and speared the cricket with its beak. It tossed the insect in the air and devoured it whole. Its eyes blazed brighter.

  Lyle scooped up the parakeet in one hand. He stroked its head with the other.

  “Excellent kill,” he cooed.

  He grabbed the bird’s head and snapped its neck. The light in its eyes died like a burned-out campfire. He tossed the carcass in a trash can.

  “But it is too early to tip our hand with you flying around. In time, all will be revealed.”

  Chapter Nine

  The two boys returned to Zach’s house, a safe place to experiment with both of his parents gone. Barry saw this as a step up. Anytime the Outsiders gathered, he was usually fourth to the party, the one invited as an afterthought. Today he was Zach’s guest of honor, his Number One.

  Zach gave Barry the details on his silver rings, save that he could no longer make them work. Barry proudly popped the top hat into the open position for a demonstration.

  “Watch this.”

  He placed the hat on the k
itchen table. The brim hummed as he touched it. The coin in his pocket warmed. He unfolded a paper napkin and laid it across the top. He wondered what to pull from the hat. Nothing too dangerous. A lizard, one of the small green-gray ones always racing across his back patio, snapping up ants and mosquitos. His hands hovered over the hat. He closed his eyes and made a mental picture.

  “Bakshokah apnoah,” he said.

  He pulled away the napkin and reached in. A small green lizard climbed up his arm.

  “No shit,” Zach gasped. He pulled the hat in front of him. “What can I wish for?”

  Barry reached for the hat. “My trick. I bought it.”

  Zach raised a clenched hand in Barry’s face. “My fist. You want to buy that? Now what can I wish for?”

  “Any animal that will fit in the hat.”

  “Cool. I’ll do a monkey!” He pulled the napkin over the hat and put his hands out the way Barry did. “Bakshokah ano…what’s your magic words?”

  “Bakshokah apnoah.” Barry sighed.

  “Bakshokah apnoah.”

  Zach yanked off the napkin. He reached into the hat with a devilish grin. His smile dissolved as he ran his hand around the inside of the empty hat. He looked inside. He tossed the napkin back on top.

  “Bakshokah shuey,” Zach said, giving his own phrase a try. He pulled the napkin away. Still nothing

  “What the hell? What did you do?”

  “Maybe…” Barry said. He picked up Zach’s rings from the table. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The coin in his pocket stayed cool. He muttered his magic phrase and yanked the rings in opposite directions. They clanked together, still linked.

  “We can’t do each other’s tricks,” Barry said. “Just the one we own. Maybe that’s why Lyle said we had to buy them.”

  Zach took his rings back. He closed his eyes and an overly concerned look crossed his face. He pulled on the rings with theatrical effort.