Page 25 of Impractical Magic

“Okaayy, ‘little charmer,’ indeed . . .” Scarlett glanced across the street at the hardware store; the Earls waved at her cheerfully, and she waved back.

A carpenter was nearby, rooting around in his tool bag for a replacement battery for his drill, and he laughed. “Don’t mind her,” he told Scarlett. “She’s on her own little trip.”

“Really,” said Delilah. “What trip is that?”

“Well!” He seemed delighted to be asked about something that didn’t involve molding. “That kid orders from Happy Panda every day. She stands out here, waiting for the delivery guy—of course, I say guy loosely. He’s some pimply teenager from the next town over. And the girl is out here; she’s putting on lip gloss or whatever they do these days. Fixing herself up, you know? Kid hands over the food, takes the money, gets back on the bike and leaves. She stands there just watching him go. Every day, same thing.”

“Oh no.” Scarlett suddenly understood. “He never remembers her. She waits here, every day, hoping today will somehow be different . . . And every day, he meets her for the first time.”

Delilah shrugged, her curiosity already long gone. “It’s an occupational hazard of living in Oak Haven. She should know that by now.”

“I guess. Sucks, though.” Scarlett glanced across the street at the hardware store. “It’s hard out here for a witch.”

Chapter 9: Abracadabra

On their way home, Scarlett and Delilah found Luna on the Oak Haven green. A group had gathered to watch a performance of Maximillian the Magnificent.

The town gazebo was festooned with balloons, streamers, and large handmade signs saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY NIGEL. Maximillian had turned the gazebo into a little stage, with a red velvet curtain and various magician props scattered around. Young children squirmed in the front of the crowd while their parents and more casual onlookers milled around at the back.

Scarlett and Delilah approached their sister, who had gotten herself a great view of the gazebo. “What’s going on here?”

Luna grabbed Scarlett’s arm without taking her eyes off Maximillian. “He’s a wizard, I think!”

Delilah rolled her eyes and shook her head and sighed, all at once—the universal Big Sister expression for I’m too old for this shit. “Luna has been out in the wild too long—she’s forgotten what magic tricks are.”

“That’s not a trick. Look!”

Maximillian reached out with an (apparently) empty hand to pluck a coin from (apparently) thin air and drop it in a bucket. He repeated this several times before changing things up, pulling a coin from a little girl’s hair, another from a little boy’s shoe, and then he coughed out a third.

“It’s called the Miser’s Dream,” Luna said approvingly.

“Yeah, I know,” Scarlett said. “Anybody can learn that trick, Luna—literally anybody. The Miser’s Dream is older than Earl Nine.”

Delilah nodded. “And just as corny.”

“Hush, both of you, you’re embarrassing me.”

Finding Luna at an event like this was to be expected—she’d always been intrigued by magic in any form, even “stage magic.” But Luna was very much alone in her curiosity about magic. It was an article of faith among witches that stage magicians were charlatans. Witchcraft was innate—it could never be taught, only inherited. Stage magic, on the other hand, could be purchased at a joke shop or copied off YouTube videos. Witchcraft was real, went the general opinion, while stage magic was bullshit.

For that very reason, Scarlett was quite surprised to see young Violet among the audience in the park. If anyone was keen to cry “bullshit,” it surely would be Polly’s pissed-off kid. And yet there she was—perched on a bench, distractedly shoveling lo mein into her mouth. She didn’t take her eyes off Maximillian.

Scarlett nudged Delilah. “Check out Angsty Teen over there.”

“Wow,” Delilah said. “I didn’t know Violet was that interested in anything that couldn’t fit inside her phone.”

A pair of average grey squirrels went skittering past Violet’s bench, chasing each other up the trunk of a nearby maple tree. She leaned over to whisper in Delilah’s ear. “Squirrels.”

Delilah understood. “They’re horrible, aren’t they?”

“Chilling. Do you think it’s the trees?”

“That’s the thing—”

Luna wheeled around. “Do you two mind?!”

Delilah rolled her eyes and guided Scarlett a few steps away. Meanwhile, Luna took a few steps in the opposite direction, hoping to make it clear she wasn’t one with those grizzled cynics.

“Anyway,” Del continued. “While you were sleeping, Luna and I visited the grove. Remember ten years ago, how sickly the trees looked?”