Now Do You Believe in Magic?

By David Page

Now Do You Believe in Magic? is a story about a couple of teenagers growing up in the late sixties to early seventies. Megan Miller is a sixteen-year-old girl who has a secret. She’s gay. Not only that, she has a bad reputation, the kind most girls would hate to have. She runs into a witch and finds out about a spell that will transfer her soul into another person’s body, but she only has a month to do it. She needs to finds a boy willing to do the spell with her. In her search, she finds a boy named David Wilson, who’s also gay. David had graduated the year before and was now nineteen and planning to move to California to start a new life. She talks him into doing the spell with her, and to David’s surprise, it works. Now he, as Megan, has to learn how to be a sixteen-year-old girl and back in school. Megan is now in David’s body, and she, as David, moves to California and starts the new life that he wanted. David, now stuck in Megan’s body, has to somehow straighten out the bad reputation Megan left him with. As Megan, he meets a boy in school and falls in love, and after the two of them graduate, they get married. Now as an old woman, she reads a story in the newspaper about witches and is compelled to write the paper telling them if they wanted to know about real magic, they needed to come see her. The editor sends a reporter named Jack Dunham to interview her. Her husband had passed away two years prior, and she’s left alone. After meeting Jack, she was quite taken with him. Again, she goes to see the old witch to find out if she can make her young again. The old witch tells her there is a way, but it will be very dangerous. Megan wants to try anyway. She wants to meet Jack as a young woman to see if they would fall in love. As you read this story, you’ll find yourself laughing, and sometimes you’ll find yourself with tears in your eyes. But at the end, you’ll have to ask yourself, “Now do I believe in magic?” I hope you like the story as much as I did writing it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781684099986

Book preview

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Now Do You Believe in Magic?

David Page

Copyright © 2016 David Page

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2016

ISBN 978-1-68409-997-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68409-998-6 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Introduction

Now Do You Believe in Magic? is a story about a couple of teenagers growing up in the early seventies. Megan Miller is a sixteen-year-old girl who has a secret. She’s gay. She runs into a witch and finds out about a spell that will transfer her soul into another person’s body. But she only has a month to do it. She finds a boy named David Wilson, who’s also gay. David is nineteen and planning to move to California to start a new life. She talks him into doing the spell with her, and to David’s surprise, it works. Now he, as Megan, has to learn how to be a sixteen-year-old girl and back in school.

Megan is now in David’s body, and she, as David, moves to California and starts the new life that he wanted. David, now stuck in Megan’s body, has to somehow straighten out the bad reputation Megan left him with. As Megan, he meets a boy in school and falls in love, and after the two of them graduate, they get married. Now as an old woman, she reads a story in the newspaper about witches and is compelled to write the paper telling them if they wanted to know about real magic, they needed to come see her. The editor sends a reporter named Jack Dunham to interview her. Her husband had passed away two years prior, and she’s left alone. After meeting Jack, she is quite taken with him. Again, she goes to see the old witch to see if she can make her young again. The old witch tells her there is a way, but it’s very dangerous. Megan wants to try anyway. She wants to meet Jack as a young woman to see if they would fall in love.

As you read this story, you’ll find yourself laughing, and sometimes you’ll find yourself with tears in your eyes. But at the end, you’ll have to ask yourself, Now do I believe in magic? I hope you like the story as much as I did writing it.

Chapter 1

It was a cool, crisp morning when I arrived at the local newspaper. I got out of my car, grabbing my briefcase, and headed on in. Walking through the door, I could see Sam and Pete standing there talking about their favorite subject: baseball. Sam and Pete were fellow reporters and much older than I; although when it came to baseball, they were like two kids on a playground. Not being a big fan of baseball, I continued past them to my desk.

I put the briefcase down and threw my jacket across the back of the chair. Behind me, I heard a loud voice, Hey, Jackie! The big guy wants to see you. Jackie. I hated that name. My name was Jack, not Jackie. However, being the youngest of the five reporters on staff, I kept my mouth shut and did my job. I turned and looked. It was Dan, a big, overweight man with gray hair and a big smile. Okay, I replied and headed to Mr. Simmons’s office.

Knocking on the door, I could hear Mr. Simmons speaking with someone. Come in came a voice from within. I opened the door and proceeded in. Pat, the only woman reporter on our team, was sitting in front of Mr. Simmons’s desk. Pat was in her late forties, and for a woman her age, she was quite attractive. With her dyed red shoulder-length hair and wearing a light-gray pants suit, she looked very professional. She, like the other reporters on staff, was very good at her job. But Mr. Simmons was a real reporter; he was one of the best.

Come in, Jackie, my boy, and have a seat. Mr. Simmons was sitting at his desk wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past the elbows. His tie was loosened, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. His salt-and-pepper flattop did the trick. This is a real reporter, I said to myself as I sat in the chair next to Pat, waiting to hear why he wanted to see me. Do you remember the story we ran last week about witches in our local area?

Yes, sir. It was very good, I replied.

Why, thank you, said Pat as she patted my hand.

Now I was starting to wonder what Pat’s story had to do with me. Mr. Simmons continued, We received a letter from a woman who lives in Smithville saying that if we wanted the truth about magic, we needed to come and see her. Here’s the letter. He handed me the handwritten letter from a woman named Megan Jones.

Isn’t this Pat’s story? Shouldn’t she be the one to go and interview this woman? I asked.

Pat’s tied up with the mayor’s campaign and doesn’t have the time. I need you to do the follow-up.

I sat there thinking to myself, What a waste of my time, but a story is a story. Yes, sir, I’ll get the interview. Mr. Simmons sat back in his chair; he knew I didn’t want the story, and he just stared at me. I knew that look and said, I’ll get right on it, sir. I stood up and walked quickly to the door.

You do know the way to Smithville, don’t you? Mr. Simmons snapped at me.

Yes, sir, I do. And I closed the door behind me. As I walked across the newsroom to my desk, I was thinking, It’s 2020. Does anyone believe in magic anymore? I started thinking about how long it was going to take me to get there. It was an hour and a half to Smithville; I could be there before ten o’clock, get this stupid story, and be back by four. I grabbed my briefcase and jacket and headed out to my car. Opening the door, I threw my things in the backseat. I climbed in, started the engine, and was off.

I was surprised it took less time to get to Smithville than I thought. I needed gas, so I pulled into the first gas station I came to as I got into town. I got out of my car and walked to the back and started to fill the tank. I knew I needed directions, so when I finished filling the tank with gas, I went inside to ask someone for some help.

I walked into the station. There was a man behind the counter who was tall and thin with a receding hairline. Hi, how can I help you? he asked with a smile.

I’m looking for a Megan Jones. Do you know her?

Yes, sir, I do, and who are you?

"I’m a reporter from the Weekly Gazette. She wrote us a letter asking us to come and visit her." And I showed him my reporter’s ID.

Well, in that case, you go down two blocks and turn right. Her house is in the middle of the block. It’s the only white house with green steps. You can’t miss it.

Thank you, I said as I paid for my gas, and I was on my way. I drove two blocks and turned right. As I was driving down the street, I couldn’t help but notice how all the houses looked alike. They were all old two-story homes with large front porches. Trees lined both sides of the street, giving shade as I drove. It looked as though time had stopped in the midfifties. I saw the white house with green steps, so I pulled in the drive. The driveways ran between the houses and to the backyards. As I pulled in and parked my car, I noticed a red 1966 Mustang Fastback parked in front of an old garage. I opened my door and got out, grabbing my briefcase and jacket.

As I was putting on my jacket, I noticed an old woman sitting on the porch swing looking at me. Hello, I said, are you Megan Jones?

Yes, I am, and who may you be? asked the old woman.

"I’m Jack Dunham, and I’m with the Weekly Gazette." I started up the steps to the top of the porch. The old woman had snow-white hair and looked very frail. She wore a white flowered dress and white knee socks with black shoes.

Come and sit down. Can I get you something to drink?

No, thank you, I replied as I sat down beside her on the swing.

So are you here to find out about true magic?

I looked at the old woman and could see in her face she had a story to tell. Yes, ma’am, I am. Would it be all right with you if I call you Ms. Jones?

Oh, just call me Megan, and I’ll call you Jack. What do you say.

That sounds good to me. By the way, do you mind if I use a recorder to tape your story? I asked.

Why, not at all. That will be fine.

As I opened my briefcase, I noticed a young woman walking up the steps. She was twenty-five or so, about five foot five with long flowing black hair. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress that stopped about two inches above her knees. It fit her like a glove, showing off her very fit and trim body. She walked over to Megan and stood in front of her. Megan looked up and smiled. The young woman smiled back and said, I heard about David.

Megan looked down. I know. It’s such a shame, isn’t it?

The young woman pulled out a white envelope from her handbag and handed it to her. You can come see me if you like, or not. You know where. The young woman looked over at me and smiled. Then she turned and headed back down the steps and on down the street from where she came.

I sat there thinking, What just happened? I looked over at Megan, who was sitting there looking down at the envelope in her hand. I take it you know her?

Why, yes I do was her reply. She is a big part of what I’m about to tell you.

What’s her name? I asked with great interest.

Funny you should ask. I don’t know her name was her answer.

So you just met her or something? I asked, trying hard to understand.

No, she said, I’ve known her for years.

I was still trying to make heads or tails out of all this. You mean since she was a little girl?

Megan looked at me and smiled. You don’t understand, do you? I shook my head. She reached over and patted my hand, saying, Let me get us something to drink, and I’ll tell you the whole story. As I sat there still trying to understand what was going on with the young woman, and why Megan didn’t know her name, I noticed some young kids playing. As I watched, it made me feel almost homesick. I hadn’t been home to see family for such a long time. After a few minutes, Megan returned with a large tray holding a pitcher of lemonade, two glasses, and a small plate of homemade cookies. I jumped to my feet to help her, taking the tray and setting it down on the small table beside the swing. Oh, thank you, I made the cookies yesterday. I hope you like them.

Chocolate chip? I asked.

Smiling, she confessed, I do like my chocolate.

I had to agree with her as I poured two glasses of lemonade. We sat down on the swing with our drinks and cookies. We turned and looked at each other and laughed.

Well, where was I? she asked. Oh, yes, I remember, I need to start at the beginning.

I turned on my recorder and sat back to hear her story.

Chapter 2

As she sat there, she took a drink of lemonade then turned her head to look at me. For starters, you need to understand, I started my life as a baby boy.

This statement floored me. What does this have to do with magic? Not thinking before I spoke, I said to her, Oh, so you had a sex change?

Megan looked at me as if I was nuts, then she laughed. Oh no, no. And she laughed again. Let me explain. I was born May 28, 1951, a baby boy, the son of Tom and Sally Wilson. They named me David. When I was six years old, my parents were killed in a car accident.

I’m sorry to hear that, I said.

"Oh, that’s okay, it happened a long time ago. I went to live with my aunt Flo. She and my uncle lived on an old farm. They worked it for many years. He also worked part-time at a lumberyard where he was killed in an accident. No longer able to work the farm, she sold it and bought a small house in town where she lived comfortably on the insurance money and proceeds from the farm. She had a good heart, and I loved