Magic is everywhere
AFTER assuring Dr. Dunkle that he was sure of his decision, Richard carried a bundled-up Albert and a syringe filled with morphine out of the animal hospital. His were steps heavy but his path was clear. He was surprised to find the crowds were no longer filling the streets. He supposed it didn’t matter—not much did. Tikron laid his hand on the small of Richard’s back, encouraging him forward.
“We need to hurry,” Tikron whispered.
Richard glanced up at Tikron, and suddenly calmness settled down over him. He wasn’t sure of the source. Either part of him trusted Tikron or he was giving up, accepting the inevitable. In a haze of grief, Richard allowed Tikron to lead him back to Richard’s apartment. Once inside, Tikron tried to take Albert from him. Richard tightened his grip.
“It’s okay, I promise,” Tikron said gently.
Richard hesitated for a few clicks of the clock, watching Albert’s shallow breathing. His little dog still hadn’t opened his eyes, but he was alive. Even with his grave injuries and the doctor’s lack of hope, the little guy was still holding on, still fighting. The least Richard could do was give him a chance, no matter how small. Richard reluctantly allowed Tikron to take Albert from him.
Tikron took Albert and gently laid him on the couch, then went to his knees next to the sofa. Richard wrapped his arms around himself, scarcely breathing as he watched Tikron open the blanket and lay his hands on Albert. He looked up at Richard, then nodded toward the opposite end of the couch. “This is going to take a while. Sit down before you fall down.” He then turned his attention back to Albert and began chanting in a language Richard didn’t recognize.
Tikron wasn’t far off the mark. Richard was shaking so badly there was the very real possibility he would fall. Before that could happen, he took the seat indicated, watching Tikron and Albert carefully. He had no idea what was going on or how rubbing and chanting were going to help Albert, but he couldn’t look away. So many things Tikron did couldn’t be explained, and if he could give Albert back to him, he’d never question the reasons behind the strange events again. He’d accept them. Accept Tikron’s claims he was a warlock. Hell, he’d sell his soul to Tikron if the man could give him another day with Albert.
Before long Richard’s eyes grew heavy, the low rhythmic chant lulling him. The adrenaline from earlier was now completely absent, leaving him drained. His eyes burned, getting heavier. He blinked several times, the images of Tikron and Albert blurring until everything seemed dreamlike, surreal.
He hadn’t thought it possible, but somehow he drifted off and fell into a fitful sleep.
Heart hammering, lungs burning, he ran through the park, chasing Albert, calling to him, but Albert kept running. Richard pushed his muscles harder, sweat rolling down his temples, down his spine. However, no matter how hard he pushed himself, he couldn’t catch up with Albert.
Something bad was going to happen. He didn’t know what or how he knew, but he felt it in his heart, in his very soul. He had to catch Albert. Had to. But it was no use. No matter how much he willed his legs to move faster, they simply wouldn’t follow his commands.
In the blink of an eye, the bright summer day turned dark, black as night. He lost sight of Albert but kept running. Faceless people stepped out of the darkness into his path, knocking him off-balance, forcing him to shove through the growing throng. One, two, twenty, countless numbers until it was a crowd keeping him from Albert.
Hands clawing.
Muscles straining.
Helpless.
Hopeless.
The people merged into the blackness until there was nothing but it left. No hands, no bodies, no sensation, nothing, only blackness and despair.
He’d failed.
A warm, wet sensation against his cheek pulled Richard from his slumber. He opened his eyes, then blinked them several times. Obviously he wasn’t fully awake yet, because there was no way he was seeing what was in front of him.
Albert licked his cheek again, then barked.
Richard sat there stunned. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, didn’t even blink, afraid the dream of Albert would disappear.
Albert nudged Richard’s hand with his nose and barked again.
“You’re not going to give him a pet?”
“What… I….” Richard jerked upright, suddenly wide-awake. He glanced back and forth from Albert to a smiling Tikron. “What did you do?”
“I told you, you can trust me.”
Richard reached out and tentatively touched the top of Albert’s head, afraid the vision would disappear. The dog nuzzled against his hand, his soft fur tickling Richard’s palm. Albert felt real, but Richard struggled to grasp what he was seeing and feeling. “How is this possible?”
“Magic.”
“Impossible. There is no such thing as magic,” Richard whispered.
“Nothing is impossible if you believe.”
“I’m dreaming. I have to be, and if I am….” Richard scratched Albert behind the ears. He choked up with the thought. “When I wake up, he’ll be gone.”
Tikron moved to sit next to Richard, putting his arm around him. “You’re not dreaming. Albert is not an illusion, nor is he magic. He’s healthy and as perfect as he was before the accident. I healed him.”
Richard heard the sincerity in Tikron’s voice, saw the proof of his words in front of him, yet he still couldn’t accept what he was seeing and hearing, and so he waited—waited for the vision before him to disappear. But Albert continued to lick him for a few more seconds, and then he settled down on Richard’s lap. He yawned, let out a huff of breath, then closed his eyes. Richard rested his hand on Albert’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the strong heartbeat beneath his palm. He went through one explanation after another as to how Tikron had miraculously cured Albert. He dismissed each and every one. There wasn’t a single logical explanation. He also couldn’t explain the starry night, dancing squirrel, or instant transport from sidewalk to apartment.
As crazy as it sounded in his head, Richard’s heart knew the truth. Magic is real. It was curled up on his lap. He ran his hand up and down Albert’s back. The heaviness in his heart lifted with each stroke against Albert’s fur. Everything he’d ever believed in—numbers, equations, calculations, statistics, all he’d been taught, based his life on—weighed down on him, crushing him until he could scarcely breathe. Part of him tried to hold on to the knowledge he’d acquired, not willing to give up his previous convictions. Logic and new possibilities battled, war raging between his brain and his heart. He stared down at Albert, continued to stroke the warm soft fur, and rationalization waned in the face of what he had witnessed, what was warm and real snuggled against his lap. Richard couldn’t dispute the facts. What he thought he knew, his previous beliefs, didn’t matter. Albert was alive. With that realization, Richard’s heart continued to swell until he was sure it would burst out of his chest. It was the strangest damn sensation. Then, as if someone—Tikron—had opened a door, light streamed in, infused him, and he suddenly felt lighter than he ever had.
Everything made sense.
Magic was real.
There didn’t have to be a logical—or any other type of—reason.
It just was.
Magic was real.
Richard looked over at Tikron. A sweet, sincere smile made him all the more handsome, and Richard couldn’t help but smile back. Tikron had gone above and beyond to ingratiate himself into Richard’s life. No matter how hard Richard had fought him, Tikron never gave up, not through aggression or malice, but through compassion and care.
The heaviness wasn’t the only thing disappearing. As he stared at Tikron, felt Albert resting against him, a crack formed in the wall around his heart and a brick fell away, leaving the structure weakened and in danger of collapse.