Chapter 19

Wednesday morning--was it not great to be alive? Arthur was happy. He was having regular contact with his friends, learning guitar, and his girlfriend had decided that she was going to keep him no matter what her father said. The homework problem was under control, so he was happier with school. The bullies and ruffians were at bay, at least for the time being. Most importantly, regular magic use was ameliorating his depression, and his self-confidence was growing.

I was happy. I had survived my physical assassination, discovered one way to access manna on this node, and I had strong hopes that I could develop another. I enjoyed regular meals, a warm place to sleep, and was sharing a healthy body. I had every expectation that I was going to slowly regain my wizardly abilities and power.

On the downside, I had lost access to a lifetime of accumulated tools and augmentations, and I missed my familiar spirit badly. For centuries, she had been a friend that I could count on without reservation and had entrusted with my life more than once, and I hoped that she had survived whatever it was that had destroyed by body. But all things considered, life was good.

The clock said it was about twenty minutes before Arthur's mother usually rousted us to get ready for school. Let's get this body up and do some exercise, fellow brain mates.

I said, "Good morning, Mom," as I passed her on the way to the basement.

"Good morning. Aren't we chipper this morning?"

"I don't know about you, but I certainly am."

"Are you sure you're not on drugs."

"I swear on all that's holy in all the multiverse."

I did about fifteen minutes of calisthenics and then claimed the big bathroom just before Arthur's mother woke the rest of the kids. Hot water in the morning was wonderful. Breakfast was wonderful. The newspaper was wonderful. (I found three of Arthur's vocabulary words.) I had to restrain myself lest I burst into song. Oh, what the hell? "There's nothing better in the morning/Than a red-haired girl adorning/The longing space between your arms..."

The weather was bad, but that was to be expected given the time of year. The bike ride into school was uneventful. Riding a bike was wonderful, far better than those speeding deathtraps of which the people of this society seemed so insanely fond.

I said goodbye to Mary, and then Sean and I moseyed over to the grade-six door. Kirsten was waiting there for Arthur. When she came over for her morning hug, I discreetly withdrew, and Arthur took primary control. They certainly made a cute couple.

"Good morning, Artie. You rode your bike. Have you been released?" We hugged each other.

"Good morning." I loosed my hold on her, but I didn't quite let her go. We hadn't kissed on the lips since the time in her garage, and I felt a nearly overpowering urge. I leaned in, and she didn't draw back, so I kissed her--nothing extreme, just a couple of seconds. She smiled at me.

"They finally let me out," I said. I told the brief story. "I wish you could have been at my house yesterday."

"I wish I could have been there, too, but why in particular?"

"Mike, Terry, and I actually managed to play a song as a group."

"It feels great, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, like you're creating something bigger than yourself."

I heard a hawking noise and looked just in time to see Carol Flagler land a goober near my feet. My preferred method of dealing with him would have been to ignore him as a primeval slime mold beneath my notice, but I had learned the hard way that he took such behavior to be a sign of weakness. "Keep you excrescences to yourself," I said.

"What are you going to do about it if I don't?"

"Man, I think I've discovered a form of mammalian life that is completely incapable of learning." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sean move to where he could watch my back.

"You sound like a fucking pussy."

"You sound like a braying ass, but I'm trying to make allowances for your mental deficiencies."

He gave me a medium-hard push. I didn't try to block or avoid it, because I knew the ritual. "C'mon, Powyr, right now."

"Listen, Faggler, I know you don't have an academic record to protect, but I'm not going to get suspended over you."

"Where and when, then?"

"You going to bring more friends along? Maybe five or six this time?"

"Just me and you."

"You're nuts."

"Chicken-shit faggot pussy." He gave me another push.

"What part of getting your ass kicked didn't sink in?"

"You never kicked my ass. You fought like a pussy and took me by surprise." So that was how he was rationalizing this.

"Yeah, right. I took four guys by surprise."

"You fought like a sissy faggot and got lucky."

"Listen good, Carol, I'm not going to meet you anywhere at any time. If you attack me again, I'm going to put you in the emergency room again--at the very least. If you come after me with your catamite buddies again, I'm going to get my friends to help, and they are a hell of a lot meaner than yours." I didn't think he knew what catamite meant; maybe he would look it up later.

Making threats where others can hear is not good legal strategy, observed Ursus.

Do you have a better idea?

Given the young age of this simpleton, and your social circumstances, I suppose not.

"Dickwad." Carol went to push me again, but this time I was waiting for it. I brushed his right arm aside with my left, but I actually hit his left with a sword hand to the inside. Delivered with a man's strength, an edge-of-hand blow to the forearm can crack the bone. I didn't yet have a man's strength, but Carol hugged his arm and bent over it as he took a couple steps away.

"Wow, is he ever an idiot," said Kirsten, who had been standing beside me during the entire confrontation. Pam had come over to stand beside her.

"I'm not looking for trouble with the guy, but I've found that turning the other cheek to him just gets it slapped, and he invites his cronies along to urinate on me for good measure."

She gave my arm a hug, and in less than a minute Miss Gorse opened the door.

Carol didn't even look my way at lunch. During after-lunch recess, I checked on my new bike, and I remained where I could keep watch on the rack. I didn't want anyone to damage my bicycle as a way to get back at me. I thought, maybe I need some junk wheels to ride to school.

You need to get some more money before you can do that, thought Ursus, and on a not unrelated note, what are you planning to get Kirsten for Christmas?

Oh, man, I might have forgotten!

I bet she has a wrapped present for you on the last day of class before break.

Damn, it wouldn't surprise me. I have to get some more money.

There's always our money finding spell, and lots of places you and Mary haven't checked yet. We can even sigilize and re-do it to make it more powerful.

Yeah, this weekend, for sure.

When we got home from school, Mom announced to Mary and me, "Your father and I are doing some Christmas shopping after supper. You two are going to be watching the three youngest tonight."

"OK," said Mary, in her usual agreeable way. I just nodded.

Mom turned to me. "You still have a few hours to amend your Christmas letter."

The Arthur part of my brain was feeling much better, so I took the opportunity. I listed several books that I wanted to read and then at the end, in a what-the-hell moment, added "The room in the basement."

I headed downstairs. If I was going to have to baby sit, I needed to get my homework done now. First, though, fifteen minutes of guitar. I had just started when I heard, "Arthur, you little shit, get your ass up here."

"What?"

"What's this horse shit about the room in the basement?"

"With the amount of homework I have to do and guitar practice, I'm already spending most of my time down there, and the room upstairs is mighty crowded with three in it."

"I think it's illegal to let a child sleep in the basement."

"Who's going to know? And Danny's brother Tommy does it."

She paused for a few moments. "I don't know if it's a good idea. Dad and I are going to have to talk about it."

The conversation actually had gone better than I had expected, so I dropped the subject to lock in my gains. The seed had been sown, at least. "OK."

I changed my clothes and went back downstairs, where I steadily did homework, with guitar breaks, until suppertime. I would have liked to go help out with the pedal car, but my imposed schedule interfered. At least I could do some of the next day's homework, too.

Mom asked Mary and me to take care of the after supper cleanup, and she and Dad left. Mike and Terry came over for guitar practice about ten minutes after we were finished. We herded all three kids downstairs, where Rich and Charlie immediately began a game of pool. Susan sat on Mary's lap by the chord organ and pressed random keys and buttons.

"Where are your parents?" asked Terry.

"Christmas shopping."

"What did you ask for?"

"Clothes, books, some guitar paraphernalia." I didn't mention the room in the basement, in case my scheme fell through.

"That's not very much."

"Why, what did you ask for?"

"Another electric guitar and a bass."

"That's a lot."

"Yeah, but Mom and Dad have been impressed with how much Mike and I have been practicing, and they are especially impressed with how well we've been sharing Jeff's guitar without fighting."

"That must be a nearly unprecedented event," Mary said.

"Pretty much," Mike said. "We said we'd share the guitar and bass, too."

"We've even been doing our homework," Terry said.

"Horrors, no!" I said.

"See, you guys just needed sufficient motivation," Mary said.

"How would you like to motivate me, Mary?" Terry said. He actually batted his eyelashes at her. Terry was a born flirt. He'd been behaving that way since before he was old enough to go to school. Most older females thought it was cute.