put the note down, sighed loudly, and began to eat.
After Kayla had finished her waffles, smothered in maple syrup, she scooped more hash browns to her plate and picked up her note. She unfolded the little card and scanned what it had to say. Then she read it again more carefully:
Dear Miss Kayla Greenwood,
It is my great pleasure to inform you of your acceptance into the Masterson School of Science and Illusion. The distinguished Dr. William Eldritch Xander has been selected to conduct your apprenticeship. Congratulations!
All necessary supplies will be provided for. Classes begin tomorrow. Bring only yourself and an agile mind.
-T.
When she’d finished reading the note, she looked up. Garty seemed to have finished eating and now slumped back in his chair; he was watching her.
“What does yours say?” she asked him.
“Uncle Xander wants to see me after breakfast. Probably for another psychotic talk.”
“Oh.”
“Does he want to see you too?” Garty stood and pushed away from the table. “I bet he does. What is this, some kind of game? What…” His jaw clenched, his hands straining at his sides. He glanced warily around the room. “Fuck.”
Kayla watched Garty storm away, clearly frustrated. Sitting alone at the table, a wave of loneliness washed through her.
FOUR
His uncle looked very pale in the mid-morning light, bald skin stretched thin over his large forehead. He was skinny and he walked stiffly, as if his joints were unaccustomed to prolonged movement. “You slept well,” he said to Garty, more a statement than a question.
“I slept okay,” Garty said, feeling awkward and out of place next to his uncle.
“I must tell you,” Uncle Xander said, “I am not much good with social formalities. I find small talk tiresome, don’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“Good. Then I would like to tell you a bit about myself and why I invited you out here. Walk with me.”
Garty kept his mouth shut, waiting for his uncle to continue.
“I’d like to begin with a story, about my colleague, Dr. Gary Thayer.”
“Fine.”
They made slow circles around the garden. “I met him while working on my doctoral thesis in physics and astrophysics at UC Berkeley. He was an energetic man, prone to sudden fits of pacing about. It used to make me tired, watching him walk from one end of the room to the other, watching him think, sometimes out loud. But, we shared similar studies, and so spent extended periods of time together. We soon became friends. When my roommate at the time—a morose, quiet mathematics student I rarely saw or spoke with—moved out, Thayer moved in within a matter of hours.
“My friend was more theatrical than I. While I studied quietly at my desk or the kitchen table, he’d be lurching between rooms, going outside, jumping about, and mumbling to himself, all the while with a book in his hand, or a notebook and pen to put his swirling thoughts to paper. At parties he’d often produce a deck of cards from the pocket of his tweed jacket, waving it about like a loon, working the crowd. He’d ask anyone, bouncing from one attractive girl to the next, to pick a card, fanning them out, ‘any damn card,’ until eventually one of the girls agreed, with a resounded shake of her head. Looking the girl deeply in the eyes he’d say, ‘Alright, my dear.’ Then, in a lower and more serious voice, ‘If I don’t guess your card, I will do something truly horrifying.’ Turning to the crowd, “That’s right. If I don’t guess… I’m sorry, what was your name?’ He’d flash a jaunty grin; continue. ‘If I don’t guess Christie’s card correctly, I will kill myself. Right here in front of you all. How’s that sound? I’ll blow my fucking brains out!’ And the crowd would roar with appreciation, clapping and laughing—it was all in good fun.
“Then, perhaps proving how crazy he really was, he’d further heighten the drama, pulling a tiny
After Kayla had finished her waffles, smothered in maple syrup, she scooped more hash browns to her plate and picked up her note. She unfolded the little card and scanned what it had to say. Then she read it again more carefully:
Dear Miss Kayla Greenwood,
It is my great pleasure to inform you of your acceptance into the Masterson School of Science and Illusion. The distinguished Dr. William Eldritch Xander has been selected to conduct your apprenticeship. Congratulations!
All necessary supplies will be provided for. Classes begin tomorrow. Bring only yourself and an agile mind.
-T.
When she’d finished reading the note, she looked up. Garty seemed to have finished eating and now slumped back in his chair; he was watching her.
“What does yours say?” she asked him.
“Uncle Xander wants to see me after breakfast. Probably for another psychotic talk.”
“Oh.”
“Does he want to see you too?” Garty stood and pushed away from the table. “I bet he does. What is this, some kind of game? What…” His jaw clenched, his hands straining at his sides. He glanced warily around the room. “Fuck.”
Kayla watched Garty storm away, clearly frustrated. Sitting alone at the table, a wave of loneliness washed through her.
FOUR
His uncle looked very pale in the mid-morning light, bald skin stretched thin over his large forehead. He was skinny and he walked stiffly, as if his joints were unaccustomed to prolonged movement. “You slept well,” he said to Garty, more a statement than a question.
“I slept okay,” Garty said, feeling awkward and out of place next to his uncle.
“I must tell you,” Uncle Xander said, “I am not much good with social formalities. I find small talk tiresome, don’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“Good. Then I would like to tell you a bit about myself and why I invited you out here. Walk with me.”
Garty kept his mouth shut, waiting for his uncle to continue.
“I’d like to begin with a story, about my colleague, Dr. Gary Thayer.”
“Fine.”
They made slow circles around the garden. “I met him while working on my doctoral thesis in physics and astrophysics at UC Berkeley. He was an energetic man, prone to sudden fits of pacing about. It used to make me tired, watching him walk from one end of the room to the other, watching him think, sometimes out loud. But, we shared similar studies, and so spent extended periods of time together. We soon became friends. When my roommate at the time—a morose, quiet mathematics student I rarely saw or spoke with—moved out, Thayer moved in within a matter of hours.
“My friend was more theatrical than I. While I studied quietly at my desk or the kitchen table, he’d be lurching between rooms, going outside, jumping about, and mumbling to himself, all the while with a book in his hand, or a notebook and pen to put his swirling thoughts to paper. At parties he’d often produce a deck of cards from the pocket of his tweed jacket, waving it about like a loon, working the crowd. He’d ask anyone, bouncing from one attractive girl to the next, to pick a card, fanning them out, ‘any damn card,’ until eventually one of the girls agreed, with a resounded shake of her head. Looking the girl deeply in the eyes he’d say, ‘Alright, my dear.’ Then, in a lower and more serious voice, ‘If I don’t guess your card, I will do something truly horrifying.’ Turning to the crowd, “That’s right. If I don’t guess… I’m sorry, what was your name?’ He’d flash a jaunty grin; continue. ‘If I don’t guess Christie’s card correctly, I will kill myself. Right here in front of you all. How’s that sound? I’ll blow my fucking brains out!’ And the crowd would roar with appreciation, clapping and laughing—it was all in good fun.
“Then, perhaps proving how crazy he really was, he’d further heighten the drama, pulling a tiny
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