He picked up another globe, a blue
one, and spun it. When he passed it over my body, he let go of it over my left
knee. It spun as fast as the yellow globe, but in the opposite direction. Why?
My mouth tried to shape the word, but I couldn’t make the sound.
“Hmm,” he muttered. Looking up at
Mama, he said gently, “I wish you had called me in sooner, Madam.” She bristled
at the reproach. He softened it with a kind smile, “But I’m glad you did call.
We have a lot to do here.”
He lifted each of the globes in
his lap, one by one, spinning them and leaving them to hang in the air over my
body. The green one over my right hip. The red one over my stomach, the clear
one over my aching chest, the magenta one over my forehead. As he let that one
go, he dropped his fingers to rest on my hair. “Yes, much to do here.”
He smiled down at me. I would have
smiled back if I could. It was all I could do to move my eyes from one of the
spinning globes to the other. The sunlight shot through them, and as the sun
lowered, they spun rainbow lights around the room.
Mama sniffed. “We don’t need magic
tricks,” she grumbled.
“No, Madam. You need much more
than tricks,” he agreed calmly. He lifted his hand above the magenta globe and
tapped it with his long forefinger. Its spin slowed, and he moved his hand down
the length of my body again, reaching down to tap each one the spinning globes
as he passed over it.
The rainbow sparks in the room
slowed with their spinning, and it seemed to drain from around the room to pool
on my body under them. I thought I could feel it, cool and soothing after all
the miserable sensations of my illness. The pool of light flowed over my skin,
and then it began stream up into the glass globes, filling each of them with
light. As they filled, I could feel my body healing, the pain gone, the fever
gone, the weakness gone. I lifted my head, then let it fall back on the bed. Maybe not all gone.
Dogs in house
|
Houdini
|
Time writing
|
65 minutes
|
December word
count
|
7,029
|
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