The music on the sound system changed to jazz standards from the forties, which fit the store’s new nostalgic retro look. Then the lights dimmed, and I jumped. “Sorry about that,” Owen said as he approached. “I just thought it would be best if we weren’t quite so visible from the outside.” He held up a stack of colored index cards. “Ready to plant our clues?”
We had a list of books people were supposed to search for, and we went around the store, sticking the cards in the backs of the books and then re-shelving them. Although we’d created the list, we still had to think about where to go and which section would be most likely to come to mind for each book. We ran through the maze of bookshelves like children, and I felt that if I looked out the corner of my eye, I’d see the books coming to life and dancing the way I sometimes imagined they would after a bookstore closed for the night.
“Ah, here it is,” Owen said, pulling the next book on the list off the shelf and opening it so I could slip the card in. He closed the book and put it back in its slot, then smoothed the shelf so it wasn’t obvious that one book had recently been moved. He glanced at me, then back at the books before saying, “Can I ask you something strange?”
I gulped, wondering what he might consider strange. Would this be a personal question, something about Josh or maybe about the way things were developing between us? “Um, sure,” I stammered.
“Have you been having a bad case of déjà vu lately? I mean, seeing people and thinking they’re familiar, and then you realize that of course they’re familiar because you know them, but that doesn’t seem like why they should be familiar?”
“You too?” I asked, a little breathless. “It’s been happening all the time to me lately.” I hesitated, since this was the kind of thing that might get me sent to a psychiatric hospital, but since he’d started it … “While we’re on the subject, do you ever get the feeling that some of your memories are more like dreams, or like time is passing in just a series of highlight images—like a montage in a movie, sometimes even complete with soundtrack?”
He frowned and licked his lips, then said, “No, I don’t think I’ve run into that. But the memories thing, yeah. It’s like nothing from before a few weeks ago seems real. And I do sometimes feel like a week or more has passed between the time I go to bed at night and the time I wake up in the morning. I remember the things that happened, but not as though I really lived them.”
I laughed, then cut myself off when I realized that I sounded like someone on the verge of madness. “So I’m not crazy, or if I am crazy, then I’m not crazy alone.”
“We can share a padded cell,” he said with a grin. Then he went more serious again and seemed to be considering what to say next. He took a deep breath and whispered, “There’s something else weird going on.”
“What?” I whispered in response.
“I think I can do magic.”
“Magic?” I thought about saying that was crazy, but was it any crazier than any of the other stuff we’d been noticing?
My tone must have said it for me because he said defensively, “I was in the office and realized that the binder I needed was on the shelf. I wished it would come to me without me having to go get it, and then it flew across the room and onto my desk.”
“Maybe the store’s haunted and the ghost wanted to help you,” I suggested. I didn’t know why that sounded like a more plausible explanation, but it did.
“Watch this,” he said. “The next book we need is on that shelf over there.” He pointed to the opposite aisle. Then he flicked his wrist and the book flew out of its spot and into his hand.
I squealed in shock and jumped backward. “Oh my gosh!” I said when I’d recovered from the initial surprise. My hand trembled as I stuck the card between the pages, and then he sent it back to its spot. “Can you do anything else?”
He held his hand palm-up, and soon a soft glow formed there. The glow formed into a globe and rose into the air above our heads.
“Whoa,” I breathed. “I wonder if it’s just you or if this is something everyone can do.” To test it, I held my hand out the way he had and thought about forming a light. My glow wasn’t nearly as bright as Owen’s, but it was there. I sent it up to join his. “Oh, wow, I can do magic!” I said with a hysterical giggle.
“I know, right?” He was grinning ear-to-ear. “I guess this makes us wizards. No wonder we clicked. We’re two of a kind.”