Genuine Magic
By: Audra Hammer
based on the “Harry Potter” series by J.K. Rowling
and “The Magic Shop” by H.G. Wells
The letter sat in the middle of little kitchen table, surrounded by brightly-colored plastic plates smeared with frosting and cake crumbs, and a few crumpled wads of wrapping paper--the remnants of an eleventh birthday party. It was a thick packet of heavy yellow parchment. A coat of arms containing a large iridescent letter "H" gleamed on each page. The shifting pattern of hues seemed only vaguely influenced by the ceiling light. Meeghan met her little girl's wide blue eyes. They were shining with anticipation.
"I want to go, Mum." A spot of dark pink stood out on each of the girl's rosy cheeks. The tips of her fingers were white as she clutched the edge of the table. "I'm sure." She was resolute. Meeghan knew that when the girl got an idea in her head there was little even she could do to dissuade her.
"We...need to give this some thought, Cush." When Meeghan's grandmother saw her little great-granddaughter for the first time, she had called her a "little macushla," an Irish term of endearment. Douglas, Meeghan's husband, found it so amusing that the nickname stuck.
Meeghan's mind traveled back to a previous birthday. One that she had thought back on many times before. One that was every bit as strange as this one was shaping up to be. One that sprung immediately to mind when her daughter came back from the door carrying a large yellowish envelope sealed with purple wax, and bearing her full name and address in emerald green script...
It was 3 May 1988. Douglas was in the States on business. He had telephoned in the morning to sing "Happy Birthday" to his baby and chirp kissing noises into the receiver. Mother and daughter were going to have a girls' day out. They took a cab to Hamleys on Regent Street in London. For a child, the huge toyshop was seven floors of heaven.
"Mummy, look! A Jem radio! Ooh, look, that's Clash up there! I need her to play with my Misfits! May I get her, Mummy, please?"
"Yes, of course you may," Meeghan smiled. "This is your special day, because you're how old?"
The little girl bit her lower lip and examined her chubby fingers for a moment. The she pressed her thumb into her palm, and thrust out her arm triumphantly. "Four!" she sang.
"That's right, my big girl," Meeghan stood on her tiptoes and stretched her arm up to the shelf the doll was on, but her fingertips barely brushed the bottom of the box. "Your Mummy is too short, Cush. Let's see if we can find someone to help us." Meeghan held on to her daughter's hand as she peered both ways down the adjoining aisle. "Hmmm…they're never around when y--" Meeghan stopped in mid-sentence. She was looking at her little girl again, who was still holding on to her with one hand, and clutching the box with the Clash doll to her body with the other. "How--where did you get that?"
Meeghan got the same reaction she had come to expect every time something odd happened around her little girl, from her turning up wearing her favorite sundress after Meeghan had locked it in the trunk for the Winter, to Douglas's brand new car refusing to start when she didn't want to leave the amusement park--the wide blank stare, and the innocent shrug of the little shoulders. If Meeghan didn't know better she'd swear--no, that was crazy. It was just a silly coincidence. There was a logical explanation for everything. She had forgotten to lock the trunk, cars stall, and boxes fall of shelves. She had probably set it off balance with her fingertips.
Meeghan soon found out why she couldn't find a clerk on the doll floor. The computer games section looked as if it had been ravaged by a small tornado. Clerks were working like mad trying to clean up the mess.
A scream pierced the air, "I WANT ZELDA!!!" The tornado, a chubby boy with blonde hair stomped around the corner and, with one pudgy arm, swiped a shelf clear of all the games an exasperated clerk had just finished putting back. A tall thin woman with a long face (the boy’s mother, Meeghan presumed) raced around the corner after him. She kneeled down and took the chubby blonde boy by the shoulders.
"Pumpkin," she said, sounding slightly out of breath, "we only came here to replace your Nintendo and they don't HAVE your Zelda game right now--" The boy drew a breath in preparation to begin screaming again. "BUT," the woman soothed the boy, "but listen to Mummy, sweetums. We can buy your new Nintendo and TWO games now, and I promise I will get you Zelda for your birthday next month, now what do you think of that?”
The boy clenched his fists, "THREE games now!"
"Alright," said the woman, "three games now, and you must promise me that you will not jump on your new Nintendo when you lose the game." The boy just scowled.
"Mummy!" Meeghan heard her daughter exclaim. The little girl was picking up one of the video game boxes from the floor. "I like this one!" She brought the box up to her face and sounded out the title, "Cas-tle-van-i-a...Castlevania!" Douglas had bought the girl set of reading primers for Christmas and she had been working through them with fervor--a little too hard in Meeghan's opinion. Even at this early age, she was exhibiting Douglas's perfectionist tendencies.
"GIVE THAT TO ME!" The blonde boy snatched the box from the little girl's grasp. "I want this one! This one's mine!" The boy's mother didn't seem to notice. Meeghan looked at her little girl, who was still holding up her empty hand, and then turned her attention toward the woman.
"Excuse me," said Meeghan, "Your child just grabbed that box out of my daughter's hand and screamed in her face."
"Oh," the woman emitted a nervous laugh and waved her hand dismissively, "he's a boisterous little boy. Boys will be boys." She turned her head and smiled in the direction of the chubby blonde boy, who was now attempting to climb a set of shelves.
"Indeed," Meeghan stood her ground, "but your son is being completely inappropriate." Meeghan gestured toward the boy and raised her voice slightly. "Why are you allowing him to do that?" The other woman's smile was becoming tense. She clasped and unclasped her hands. Meeghan continued with growing momentum, "Not only could he get hurt, but someone is having to clean up this gigantic mess that he made."
The clerks had frozen in mid-motion and turned their faces toward the chubby boy's mother. The other shoppers were silently watching, trying to appear as if they were minding their own business. The woman's eyes darted back and forth and a spot of red began to appear over each pronounced cheekbone.
"I WANT THAT! GET THAT!" The chubby boy's cry echoed in the otherwise silent floor. His mother took several quick steps over to where the boy was. With one hand, she grabbed the box from the top shelf, and with the other she took hold of the boy's arm.
"Come along, Dudley. It's time to go. We're...going to get you some ice cream now. Hurry." The woman dragged her son briskly toward the lift and did not look back. All of the clerks were smiling. One of them, a teenage girl, mouthed "Thank you" silently to Meeghan. Meeghan nodded to them with satisfaction. She felt good.
"Come on, Cush." she said, squeezing her daughter's hand. "Let's go find the board games."
After about two hours of exploring the shop and picking out a couple more toys, the Birthday girl and her mother headed down to the ground floor to pay. Just after they stepped off the lift, they stopped to admire the store's large running train set, a panorama of green hills, little trees, and buildings. Light produced by small bulbs poured out of each window. The sign said "Hamleys Express."
"Oh, look, Mummy" The miniature scarlet steam engine came chugging past them, "I like that train!"
“Oh, me too," said Meeghan. "Wouldn’t it be fun to ride on an old-fashioned train like that?”
“Yeah!”
After several minutes Meeghan managed to pull her daughter's attention away from the train set so they could pay for their purchases and head outdoors again.
A leisurely lunch later, Meeghan was preparing to hail a cab on Regent Street to take them home, when she felt her arm being gently pulled away from the direction of the street. She turned around and found her daughter’s attention was fixed on something behind them.
“What is it, Cush?” she asked. The little girl pointed with her disengaged hand. Meeghan’s eyes followed the finger to a narrow storefront. She had to have passed it many times before, but she had never noticed it. Even as she peered at the sign now, it seemed to be wavering oddly in and out of her sight as if she had a blind spot. Meeghan took a few steps closer, blinking her eyes several times. Strange, she thought, it must have been sun glare…except that it was quite cloudy at the moment. She pushed that thought out of her mind. The shop was unmistakably there and the sign was in focus. "GENUINE MAGIC" it boasted.
The little girl had her hands and face pressed to the glass now. The bottom of the window was just about at her chin level. “How about a boost?” asked Meeghan. With the arm that wasn’t laden with packages, she hauled her daughter up on to her hip for a better look. The contents inspired a string of “oohs” and “ahhs” from the child. Her mother wasn’t sure what to make of it. There was something that looked like a board game with pretty multi-colored glass pieces. “Gobstones,” said a little placard in front of it. She also took note of “Tea Set – Self Pouring” and “Hovering Broom.” The latter puzzled her the most. It was a light green-colored broom was scaled down to a child’s size. The word “Dragonfly” was emblazoned on the handle. “Why would a child want to play with a broom?” Meeghan wondered to herself.
“Mummy, if we didn’t buy my presents already I would want one of those,” the girl pressed her forefinger to the window, indicating a large earthen bowl filled with small spheres ranging from the size of marbles to tennis balls.
“A glass ball?” asked Meeghan, “What would you do with that?”
“Show it to Daddy,” she answered matter-of-factly. “There’s…consummations in there.”
“Hmm?” Meeghan looked at her daughter quizzically.
“Like the kind Daddy shows me in the telescope.”
“Oh, you mean constellations—groups of stars?” Meeghan looked closely at the glass balls. There did appear to be tiny pinpricks of light swirling inside them.
“Yeah, constellations…” She seemed so fascinated, that Meeghan had no other choice.
“Well,” Meeghan kissed the girl’s forehead and smiled, “I think we can manage one more present.”
She had barely gotten out the sentence when her daughter was sliding back down to her feet and pulling her toward the door of the shop with uncharacteristic urgency. Meeghan’s eyes were playing tricks on her again. The shop door appeared to swing open before her daughter actually touched the handle.
A bell tinkled as the door swung closed behind them. After a second, Meeghan’s eyes adjusted to the small dimly lit shop. The place was cluttered, but not dirty. The walls—what was visible of them--were yellowish plaster with decorative cornices. A full suit of armor stood in the middle of a display of “Invincible Toy Swords.” There were shelves stacked up to the ceiling, a few of which were stocked with crystal balls of all colors and sizes, other shelves with boxes of varying shapes. She squinted at the writing on some of the boxes…more “Hovering Brooms”…“Cloak of Invisibility”…“Grow Your Own Warts!”—What in the world? Three tall curved mirrors stood in one corner—fun house mirrors, Meeghan guessed. On the sales counter, parallel to the wall on the left, was a chess set with elaborately carved wooden pieces, and—
“A bunny!” The little girl skipped over to the large white rabbit, which was sitting, uncaged, on the countertop, working its pink nose.
“A magic shop, a white rabbit,” thought Meeghan, stepping toward the counter too. She immediately loved the creature for being the most normal thing in the room so far.
She set her packages down on a clear spot on the long counter, next to a thick book, “Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Muggles, But Were Afraid To Ask” by Pandora Spocks.
“Hey, bunny, bunny,” cooed the little girl as she stroked the rabbit’s soft fur.
“Oh, he’s a nice fellow,” said Meeghan. “How about it, bunny? Are you going to show us a magic trick?”
The rabbit tuned around, and hopped down onto a nearby box, then on to the floor.
“He’s running away!” exclaimed the little girl. She followed behind the rabbit. It would pause and let her get close, then every time she squatted down and put out her hand, the rabbit would make one more hop out of her reach. It was quite comical to watch.
They finally reached the wall where a long yellow tapestry hung. The tapestry bore a coat of arms, which consisted of a large rodent—a hedgehog or a badger maybe—and a banner with a strange-looking word, “Hufflepuff?” Meeghan mouthed to herself. The rabbit nosed behind the tapestry and it swung away from the wall a bit. It was covering a door. The rabbit disappeared into the small opening, leaving Meeghan and her daughter peering after it. Suddenly the door swung wide open. The pair jumped and took a few quick steps back.
A man emerged. He was stout and baldheaded with close-set twinkling blue eyes, and a wide, easy smile. He was dressed oddly in a blue paisley button-down shirt with a yellow and red tartan cloak thrown over one shoulder. He examined their wide-eyed faces. “Oh forgive me if I startled you,” he said, moving behind the counter, “Welcome, welcome, how may I may I be of service to you ladies today?”
“We…we were just looking really,” Meeghan managed to get out. “It’s my daughter’s birthday and I—“
“Oh my stars!" The bald man exclaimed with a bold gesture of his arms, "A birthday! Well, isn't that wonderful?" He beamed at the little girl, "How old are you, sweetheart?"
"...I'm four," she answered somewhat timidly.
"Ah, isn't that something? That's the same age as my little boy." With that the man produced a small photograph in his hand in a manner that Meeghan had seen magicians produce playing cards. The photograph showed a small boy wearing a mischievous grin. He had the same close-set eyes underneath his mop of brown hair. Meeghan thought she could actually see the eyes twinkling as his father's did. Then something very strange happened. As Meeghan looked, the boy in the photograph appeared to wave at her.
A startled "Oh!" escaped her lips as she took a step back from the counter. The man had made the photograph disappear again. He held up both hands, palms out, fingers splayed, and winked. Meeghan glanced down at her daughter who was eyeing her inquisitively. Suddenly Meeghan felt very silly. It was a magic trick, of course. Just "le jeur de mans" to fool the senses into a false perception. She raised her hand to her head and chuckled.
Her daughter smiled now too, as if she had been waiting for Meeghan's cue on how to react. "That was very good," she half-laughed, wagging her finger at the man behind the counter.
"Thank you."
"Er, have you got anything suitable for a four year old? Maybe...a magic hat or...a disappearing penny trick?"
"Madam," the man fixed his eyes on Meeghan's in a level gaze, "as the sign outside says, we deal in genuine magic here." He placed an emphasis on the word "genuine" and handed Meeghan a card, which had appeared in his hand in exactly the way that the photograph had seconds earlier.
Meeghan accepted the card. It read "Genuine Magic" and underneath that, in the same fancy script, the name "Gordon Macmillan." That was all--no address, no telephone number.
He leaned over the counter and addressed the little girl, “I believe you were interested in one of our glass balls?”
The little girl nodded her head.
Oh yes, of course, thought Meeghan. That’s what they had come in here for. She had forgotten. Something about this place had her off center. Ever since they had walked in she had the confused feeling of having just woken up from a dream, trying to remember where reality started.
“It’s in your pocket,” said the man with a grin.
The girl reached into her corduroys, and brought the ball out in the palm of her hand. She smiled up at the man, “Wow…”
“Uh,” Meeghan started, “how much—“
BANG…BANG-BANG-BANG! All heads whirled to the front on the shop. A pudgy face and hand had adhered themselves to the bottom of the window, leaving chocolate smears in their wake. The window was rattled under the pounding of one chubby fist. “I WANT TO GO IN THERE!”
“Oh, great,” Meeghan grumbled, taking note of the drippy half-finished ice cream cone the boy clutched, “Now the little monster’s armed. You better secure your valuables, Mr. Macmillan.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the man answered calmly, “He’s not coming in.”
“But the door is—“ Meeghan listened as the boy began pounding and tugging at the door. She thought it might come off the hinges!
Another voice came from outside, trying to make itself heard over the noise, “The door is locked, Pumpkin. There’s no one in there. Come along now, Duddy. We’re already late picking up your cousin.” After another minute of pounding and crying, Meeghan saw the thin woman from the toy store drag her kicking son away and down the street.
“But the door wasn’t locked,” Meeghan said, turning to the man behind the counter.
“My door is always locked to that sort.”
“But how?”
“Magic!” the man retorted.
“Now you, on the other hand,” he said turning to Meeghan’s daughter once more, “You are a very special girl, did you know that? How would you like the grand tour?” He put out his hand. To Meeghan’s shock and apprehension, her daughter shook off Meeghan’s hand and grabbed the strange man’s. He led her around the room, pointing out various items and speaking to her in hushed reverent tones. The girl listened attentively.
The man sifted through a large ancient-looking storage trunk. The little girl kneeled at his side. Meeghan became aware that the man had already removed more items from it than the trunk than could have possibly have fit inside at once.
“Ah, here we go,” she heard the man say as he reached deeper than possible into the trunk and removed a bulky tin container. Then he closed the trunk. Meeghan moved in for a closer look as he removed the lid from the tin. Inside were rows of small, colorful, magnificently carved animals—from giraffes and elephants to sheep and pigs and even alligators.
The little girl gasped in delight, “A menagerie!” She picked up a little brown monkey, and examined it. She leaned over as the man whispered something in her ear. She nodded, and narrowed her eyes at the miniature monkey and said a word Meeghan didn’t quite catch--it sounded like “wainy-we-wuss”—and the monkey SPRANG TO LIFE AND CLIMBED UP HER DAUGHTER’S FINGER!
Meeghan stifled a scream and began to back away. The man quickly whispered something else to her daughter, which she repeated before putting the figure back in the tin.
“Shall I wrap it up for you?” asked the man, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“N-no,” stammered Meeghan. “We can’t…we can’t afford it.” She moved forward far enough to place a hand around her daughter’s arm and begin to pull her away from the man.
“Nonsense!” proclaimed the man, drawing what looked like a wand from his pocket, and waving it over the tin. Suddenly the tin was wrapped in brown paper. The man walked toward them and gave Meeghan the package. She took it. The package bore Meeghan’s daughter’s full name and address. She was too numb to register shock at this. She had backed up so far that she was leaning against the wall, one arm holding the package, the other around her daughter. The door with the tapestry was to her right. It was still open part way. Meeghan glanced inside and to her horror saw a small ugly goblin-like creature with huge eyes standing a few feet away. This time she almost did scream, but her only thought was that she mustn’t scare her daughter. Miraculously, she managed to pull herself together to say, as calmly as she could, “It’s time to go home now, Cush.”
Meeghan walked toward the door with arm around her daughter, keeping her eye on the man, who did not move.
“Goodbye!” the little girl piped up.
“Goodbye, sweetheart, “ said the man.
Then they were through the door, and back on Regent Street. Meeghan squinted in the relative brightness of the outdoors. She was still holding the package. She looked down at her daughter, who was holding another package wrapped in the same brown paper bearing her name and address. Then she remembered the bags from Hamleys—her daughter’s birthday presents. She had left them in the shop. Reluctantly, she turned around…and saw her bags from Hamleys on the sidewalk, in front of an ordinary pilaster. The shop was gone.
Meeghan didn’t stop to wonder. She just wanted to get her daughter and herself home. She snatched up her bags and hailed the first cab she saw. Her mind was racing during the ride, trying to rationalize the day’s events. Whatever happened, her daughter seemed to be alright. She was glad of that. She hauled her into her lap and kissed her.
When they arrived home, the little girl had been anxious to open her presents. Meeghan convinced her to first go clear a space in her room, so that she could open the two packages from the Genuine Magic shop herself. Her hands hesitated at untying the packages. She told herself she had to see what was in them before her daughter did, to make sure it was…safe. The first package held the menagerie. Meeghan turned the carved figures over in her hands. They looked quite ordinary under the light in the kitchen. She moved on to the other package. This one contained a small, fluffy, white kitten! Meeghan picked it up. It cheeked her hand and purred. She breathed a sigh of relief. Everything looked normal.
The girl insisted on naming her new pet “Blacky” despite her father’s concern that it would give the kitten “a complex.” She loved to play with her little menagerie. Meeghan watched her often, but never noticed anything out of the ordinary. Once, a few months after the shopping trip, when Meeghan was feeling confident, she had half-joked, half-hinted about the menagerie animals coming to life. “Of course they do,” was her daughter’s reply, “When I say my word.” Meeghan had never brought it up again. She also never told Douglas about the strange events of that day.
Now, seven years later, she was sitting at the kitchen table with her daughter, "We...need to give this some thought, Cush."
“Mum, I asked you to please stop calling me that. I’m too old for silly nicknames.”
“You know you’ll always be my baby,” she joked.
“Mum!”
“Fine, Hannah,” she leaned over, kissed her cheek and tweaked on blonde pigtail, then redirected her attention to the thick packet of parchment between them that proclaimed Hannah Abbott had been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Neither said anything for a space.
Meeghan shook her head, “How are we going to explain this to your father?”
They laughed.
THE END
Back to the library…