The Legend of the Magical Spectacles

By Kristi Hurley

Magic isn’t always indulged only on children, for anyone who believes, truly believes, has the power to taste of it. Of course, that leaves them with wanting more, and there is nothing wrong with that. But, as most all have figured out by now, magic isn’t always good. Sometimes it is wicked and frightful. This story tells of both…
Miles is a little boy who loves hearing his dad's stories, and the treasures he comes across during a normal day's work. One particular find intrigues him more than any other. Unfortunately, someone else comes across his treasure--a scary someone--who wants it for himself. That is when the magic is unleashed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781312847460

Book preview

The Legend of the Magical Spectacles

THE LEGEND OF THE MAGICAL SPECTACLES

Kristi Hurley

Copyright 2004

Prologue

Magic isn’t always indulged only on children, for anyone who believes, truly believes, has the power to taste of it.  Of course, that leaves them with wanting more, and there is nothing wrong with that.  But, as most all have figured out by now, magic isn’t always good.  Sometimes it is wicked and frightful.  This story tells of both…

Chapter One

It seems like forever ago my father found the secretary, quite by accident really, if you believe in accidents.  I don’t, for I believe there is always a reason for events whether good or bad.  Dad was always finding something, and he could never pass up a good deal.  Mom would roll her eyes every time he would come home with another load of something in his truck.  Most everything collected dust in the shed that used to house his beloved ‘39 Chevy.  His intentions were good.  He always meant to do something with each piece that cluttered the dark and damp shed out back.  The disorderly maze made good territory for hide-and-seek for my brothers and me. We never paid much attention to his menagerie of treasures until one day…

But they can’t tear down that old church, Mom said sorrowfully.  My mama and daddy were married there.  I was baptized there when I was just a little girl and…

I know, Dad comforted Mom with his hands on her shoulders.  But there’s nothing anybody can do about it.  The church hasn’t been utilized for years except for spiders and mice.  Even the parsonage has long since become rubble.  And besides, the property’s been sold.  It’s a done deal except for one thing.

What’s that? asked Mom wiping away a tear.

My boss bid on the project.  Sounds like I’ll be the one clearing it out and stringing the dynamite.

Isn’t there any other way? asked Mom.

’Fraid not.  Not if I want to keep my job anyway.  And you know how tight things have been since the war. I can’t risk being out of work.

Yes, I know.  You do what you have to do.  I just wish…well…I just wish there was a way to save at least a part of it.  But as soon as she said those words I think she regretted them.  Mom knows Dad so well.  He had already thought of that too, the saving a part of it anyway.

The steeple could be carefully dismantled from the…

Where on earth would you put a steeple?  And how would you even get it here?  There were signs of exasperation in Mom’s voice.

Dad knew he was defeated.  I guess you’re right.  But we could make room for the bell.  I know just the right place in the yard where the boys like to play.  And I…uh…I've already unloaded the desk nobody else wanted.  It's in the shed.

It was a compromise Mom could live with.  So when do you get started?

Soon.  I hate to see it go.  Furthermore, I hate to be the one doing it.  My Grandpa used to tell me stories about him and the preacher’s son when he was a kid.  How they would play together in the church yard and in the pastor’s study in the parsonage until the other boy took sick.

I used to hear those stories too.  But that’s all I thought they were…just stories.  Were they really true?

Was what true, Mom?  I asked, walking through the kitchen arch, pretending I hadn’t heard their entire conversation.

Stories about the preacher’s boy.  He was born blind but was able to do what other boys his age did.  He made do without sight from what I was told, but then a sudden sickness and fever came upon him.  It was then, everyone claimed, that he found a pair of magical spectacles and in his last days, as he lay sick in bed he insisted he could see.  He described in great detail things only sighted people would be able to describe.

How come I’ve never heard about him before?  Is the story true, Dad?  My curiosity got me.

"Nobody knows for sure, but my Grandpa wouldn’t lie.  Now you boys get out of the house