Magic

By Chantal Spies

After meeting the handsome lion tamer of an eccentric traveling circus, a self-pitying yet resilient young woman dreams of escaping her constrictive South African hometown. She discovers, nearly too late, that magic is not something you search for, but something you make, right here, right now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Africa
• Release date: Apr 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781482877861

Chantal Spies

Chantal bases most of her plotlines and characters on real events that happened to her and real people she has met along the way. This makes her stories seem real and her characters feel authentic- almost like you’ve met them before, and who knows, maybe you have.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

‘C ome on! I promise you it’s going to work!’ Anya screamed as she weaved between the golden sheaths of the maize field. She ran as fast as her small slender body could carry her.

‘Slow down!’ Eduard huffed behind her. He was brawny and swift for a 7-year-old; he should’ve kept up. But Anya’s enthusiasm gave her an unfair advantage.

Eduard finally caught up with Anya as she came to a sudden halt at the street corner where Wingy’s ice-cream cart was parked. ‘Wingy the Ice Cream Man’—he cut a strapping figure in his neat white smock and shorts. His name was really Qingqile, but none of his regulars knew how to pronounce it correctly, so Wingy it stayed.

‘Oom Wingy’, Anya always addressed him with respect, ‘do you by any chance have those Superhero ice lollies?’

‘But, of course, young madam! However, if I may be honest, I really don’t understand why you kids love these silly lollies so much. It tastes just like wind to me.’ Wingy opened his ice-cream cart and rummaged around in it.

Anya gave him a troubled glare. Didn’t Wingy understand the power of these Superhero lollies? ‘But, Oom, don’t you know if you eat these lollies, you get superpowers and you can fly just like Superman? Orange, cola, lemon soda, just one lick and you’ll fly in a tick?’

Wingy couldn’t help but laugh at Anya’s earnest little face. His laugh reminded her of a real Father Christmas’s laugh. Not forced and fake like the Father Christmas at the church bazaars with their pretend ho-ho-hos. Even though Wingy’s laughter was kind, it made Anya mad. As if she would tell lies! Never. She was in ‘big school’ after all.

She shoved the pennies in his hand. ‘It’s the truth, Oom! The Radio Man said so!’

‘Little madam, you mustn’t believe everything the Radio Man tells you. He’s a big fat liar,’ Wingy said as he handed Anya and Eduard an ice lolly each.

‘I don’t understand you, Oom. If I was you, I would’ve eaten all the lollies in one go and flown away a long time ago.’

Wingy suppressed a chuckle as Anya caught a glimpse of Eduard trying to unwrap his Superhero ice lolly. Anya slapped Eduard so hard on his arm that the ice lolly would’ve fallen out of his hands if it wasn’t for his sharp reflexes. ‘Not yet, clown! We have to wait.’Anya glared at Wingy who was laughing so hard she was convinced the little vein that throbbed in the middle of his face was going to pop. Even though she was furious and wanted to stump away, she waited a little bit longer, just for in case that vein might just pop, because that would’ve been something she didn’t want to miss. To her disappointment, it didn’t pop. She mumbled an angry goodbye and dragged Eduard away using his shirt’s collar as a leash.

Not much later, the two children stood at the roof’s edge of the burnt-down bicycle warehouse. The bright-red hem of Anya’s dress nipped against her knees. This really was the best place to jump from. High enough to be a good launching pad but not too high in case they should fail.

After Anya tore off the ice lolly’s wrapping paper, she thought about throwing it into the bushes, but guilt made her slide it into the slit of her dress. She already stole money from God—in his house and on his day. Polluting his creation would be her second sin in less than 48 hours.

Yesterday at church, the frayed carpets that were maroon—not red, as her ma taught her—distracted her while she was daydreaming about flying. The dusty carpet roll made a line all the way from the aisle to the pulpit, and its embroidered parament read: ‘But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.’ Anya felt very proud that she was able to read all the words perfectly in her head—even the word righteousness, which was a very difficult word.

The offering baskets were about to be handed out. Sandra, Anya’s ma, opened her black velveteen purse and placed a few pennies in the little girl’s hand for tithing. Sandra was resplendent that Sunday. Every Sunday, in fact. Anya’s hand melted slyly into the offering basket as she made a clunky show of tossing a few coins into the tray. With the other hand, she sneakily tucked the pennies her ma gave her into her pinafore. Sinner! Bad girl!

Luckily, on the rooftop of the warehouse, Anya’s guilt melted away just like the orange ice lolly in her hand. It was a beautiful thing. Glistening in the sun like a magic wand.

‘Okay, are you ready?’ Anya peeked at Eduard, who was shoving half the lolly into his mouth. ‘Eduard! The Radio Man said just one lick. Do you want to fly to the moon or something?’ Obediently, but a little grudgingly, Eduard took a very small lick of the lolly with the tip of his tongue. Anya gave him a firm nod of approval. ‘I also don’t want to fly too high at first, so I will also just take a very small little lick.’ Anya took a lick so tiny and cautious that no more than three taste buds could’ve absorbed the orange ice. She was wary. Flying can be dangerous, especially if it’s your first time.

Anya licked her lips and glanced at Eduard. ‘You first.’

‘No way!’ Eduard shouted. ‘Number one’, Eduard said as he pointed his index finger in the air, ‘this is your idea, and number two’—Eduard raised his middle finger as he said haughtily—‘Ladies first’ and made a bow.

Under normal circumstances, a silly comment like that would’ve made Anya furious. Yet young as she was, Anya realised that she couldn’t chase her partner in crime away. She needed him.

Anya peered over the edge of the rooftop, and her lip started to quiver involuntarily, which was embarrassing as she didn’t want Eduard to think that she was a scaredy-cat or something. Eduard caught a glimpse of Anya and extended his hand towards her sympathetically. ‘We do it together, okay?’ he said in a soft voice that almost didn’t match his tough exterior. Anya grabbed Eduard’s hand and gripped it tightly.

She inhaled deeply, and as she exhaled, she screamed, ‘One. Two. Three. Jump!’

For a brief second, Anya thought that she might just fly as the wind puffed at her dress and ballooned it all around her. But her dream was crushed just a few milliseconds later as she and Eduard landed unceremoniously on wild asparagus tufts and some hobo’s bedding for the night.

‘Again!’ Anya shouted.

Lick. Jump. Fall. Again! Lick. Jump. Fall. Again! Lick. Jump. Fall.

Defeated, they lay back tired against the wall of the warehouse. Eduard’s fingers were sore from being wrung tight by Anya’s need for flight. A flock of black sparrows danced mockingly above their heads.

‘Eddie, do you think God is punishing me?’ Anya asked. ‘I mean, is he not making us fly because I stole his money?’

Eduard let out a big sigh. ‘No, Ans. God isn’t punishing you. The Radio Man is just a blooming liar.’

CHAPTER 2

F or the first time in ten years since the Superhero-ice-lolly incident, Anya once again believed that flying might be possible because, at that very moment, she was. She was in love, and love makes teenage girls fly.

Sitting in the packed, sweaty Dutch Reformed church in her starchy Sunday dress, she struggled to keep her mind focused on the words in the blue Psalms book in front of her. Her mind kept drifting to a few moments earlier when she saw him—the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in real life and in the movies.

It was just another ordinary Sunday morning—nothing special, nothing new. That’s why Anya and the rest of the townsfolk en route to church were caught completely off guard when they heard the festive hooting of trumpets behind them. A convoy of huge circus trucks was rolling past. It was through the spray of promotional flyers, colourful confetti, and nasty insults thrown by the townspeople that Anya saw him—dark curly hair, dark hypnotic eyes, and dark sunburnt skin—seated atop a lion cage.

All it took was a look at each other for a strong electric current to form between her green eyes and his black eyes. Just as Anya thought the voltage couldn’t get any stronger, he winked at her, and she nearly blew a fuse. It was her ma who broke the trance. Sandra unplugged Anya from the moment by grabbing her arm and dragging her away.

Anya landed back on holy ground with a thud. Dominee Trompie, who was shaped like an egg with stringy arms and legs, tripped as he was making his way up the pulpit. Anya’s chuckle bloated into a relentless giggling when she noticed that her father, Walt, was also trying to keep his amusement in check. A sneaky glance between father and daughter was enough to set them both off. Sandra hushed them as if they were children, which only made them laugh harder.

Dominee Trompie gave a nervous laugh and briefly checked with a flat palm whether his toupee was still in place before he began his sermon, ‘Brothers and sisters in the Lord, what a wonderful privilege to be gathered here with you in the house of our Father.’ He graced the congregation with a plastic smile and then continued, ‘Before I start, there is an important notice I have to make. Most of you would have already noticed. A satanic circus has just arrived in our town.’ His dramatic pause seemed to immediately cue chorus of gasping from the horrified crowd.

Dominee Trompie placed a clenched fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat before he continued to deliver the crowd from damnation. ‘According to ministers in our neighbouring towns, far too many tickets have already been sold. However, I believe firmly in my heart of hearts that you, brothers and sisters, will not be so foolish to do so.’

Anya felt a nudge at her side. It was Walt. At first she thought it was a mistake, but then he nudged her again. Confused, she looked at him and silently mouthed, ‘What’s wrong?’ Walt’s eyes instructed Anya to look down at his sleeve as it sat diligently on his lap. Anya was still puzzling at her father’s sneaky gestures when he drew up his shirt sleeve ever so slightly. With a flourish, he revealed the contraband. Two bright red-and-gold circus tickets.

CHAPTER 3

A nya adjusted the dotted blue bow in her hair for the umpteenth time. She interrogated the mirror silently: Did the bow make her look too young? Like a little girl? There was a good chance that she would see the most beautiful man in the world again. She could tell that he was quite a bit older than she was. After some thought, she ditched the bow and opened her drawer, searching for the red lipstick her best friend, Mimi, gave her.

‘Early ripe, early rotten!’ Sandra had screamed at Anya a few days earlier when she caught Anya trying on one of her lipsticks. Anya told Mimi the story, and the following day at school, Mimi gave Anya a little red box during lunch.

‘What is this?’ Anya asked Mimi with eagerness.

‘Just open it, you ditz.’ Anya opened it, and wrapped inside soft tissue paper was a bright-red lipstick. Anya shrieked with excitement and embraced Mimi with such force that they both tumbled over each other into a puddle of teenage-girlie laughter.

The girls didn’t have any secrets between them. But Mimi still felt that this wasn’t the right time to confess that she’d shoplifted the lipstick from the Woolworths in town. Anya would just end up feeling guilty and give it back. Mimi wanted to see her best friend enjoy these little girlish luxuries, but she couldn’t afford to buy them.