Plain Old Magic
by Sasha A. Palmer
This is part two. Read the suite from the beginning
Julie
That boy. Jim? Yes, Jim Cooper. That’s his name all right. Left his hockey stick on the rink, made her trip. Now her side hurts. No ice skating for a while. She won’t tell on him, no. Never has been a snitch. And he did apologize. Snowflakes sparkled in his hair.
She fell. Big deal. No, she will not tell anyone. Not even the angel.
“It’s Grace, Ms. Julie,” the angel says, “how are you today?”
“Fine, just fine, thank you.”
“Good…good,” the angel says.
She wonders what other people’s angels are like. Hers is short and plain, with kind hands and tired eyes. The white feathers rustle as the angel moves through the air. Checking, and fixing, and straightening, and tucking. Attending to the guardian duties. Then a smile, a wave. Gone.
Perhaps she can go to the rink tomorrow after all. She will be well enough to go. Yes, she is quite sure. It’s just a little bruise, that’s all. Jim Cooper will be there. He’s there every day. Kicking the puck with other boys. She’ll put on the red beret – a present for her fifteenth birthday. Mom made it herself. She’ll wear it on one side, letting her black curls bounce on the other. She’ll skate past him. A queen of the ice. Bow to the queen. Forget the silly puck.
Hey, he’ll call, catching up with her, we met a couple of days ago, remember?
Oh, it’s you, she’ll say matter-of-factly, yes, I remember now. You made me fall.
Sorry about that, he’ll say, how are you feeling?
I’m better, thank you, she’ll reply with a gracious nod.
And they’ll skate, and skate, and talk about nothings, and then he will take the queen’s hand, and she won’t mind. Won’t mind one bit. They’ll skate, and everyone will watch them. And Liz will watch too, green with envy. How beautiful they are together, everyone will say, look how they glide, and turn, and…
Muffled voices. The silky rustle. Soon. Soon.
She stirs. It’s her angel. Hovering in the doorway.
“This way, Mr. Cooper,” the angel says softly.
A boy walks in. Her heart explodes. Can it be? Oh, yes, it’s him all right. It is him. That boy. He has been outside in the snow without a hat on. It really is him. He has found her. She grins. Forget the royal pride.
“Hey,” he calls, “remember me?”
“I do,” she says, “you made me fall.”
“How are you feeling today?” he comes closer.
Snowflakes sparkle in his hair. They don’t melt.
“I feel fine now,” the shards of her heart burn her chest, “Jim?”
“Yes, Julie?”
“You remembered my name, how sweet of you,” tears stream down her cheeks, “Jim?”
“Yes, my darling?”
“Will you take me skating tomorrow?”
“I will.”
“You won’t take Liz instead?”
“Never.”
“Promise?”
“I do.”
“Will you hold my hand?”
He takes her withered hand in his.
“I will, my love,” he says, “always.”
“Always,” she echoes.
She sighs quietly.
And, content, she watches the hot breeze of July play with the window curtain.
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January 11th, 2021 at 4:26 pm
Really appreciate you sharing this blog post. Really thank you! Want more. Leia Aguie Vaden
March 2nd, 2021 at 1:56 pm
great post thanks you admin