Four
Magic is the art of creating change with will. I considered the words carefully. I had just finished reading The Sixth Sense and Us, and it had turned out to be a total primer for doing magic. Not the pulling-rabbits-out-of-hats kind of magic, but real magic, where you could change things by willing them to. And I wanted to be able to make things I didn’t like change.
But the book’s explanations were all so esoteric that my brain ached at times trying to make sense of the power of magic. So I instead I translated it into quantum physics terms: everything is energy, and thoughts are energy . . . so thoughts can become things. That was logical.
It still seemed a bit daunting; however, if I gave myself credit for one thing, it was that I’d try anything at least once. So I decided to put the guidance of The Sixth Sense and Us into practice and try changing the things I didn’t like in my life by changing the way I thought about them. And while I was at it, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to learn how to protect myself magically from those who apparently wished me harm. If Mrs Torre’s reading had a grain of truth to it, I needed to be prepared.
My first step was with my parents. Since dinner at the twins’ place I had been thinking a lot about my relationship with Mum and Dad. The twins liked their parents and weren’t afraid to show it. I usually made a point of showing that I didn’t like mine. I knew they did love me in their own cold, distant way, but over the years a huge rift had developed between us. So I decided to be different and try to bridge that gap.
That night I didn’t complain at dinner. My mother had served fish, which was a little more bearable to me than beef, though for a moment as I looked at the fish head on my plate I did agonise over the depletion of the ocean’s population. But still, I ate all of it without uttering a word of resistance.
And instead of sitting in our usual stifling silence, I chattered away about my ‘great’ day at school and how much I was enjoying making new friends. It was nonsense, mostly, but my father smiled, and my mother was relaxed and excused me from having to wash up.
‘Go and watch TV with your father,’ she said, patting me lightly on the arm.
I watched a cop show with Dad. Not exactly the most relaxing thing to watch before bed, but I did feel like I was bonding with him. And when he offered his cheek for a goodnight kiss, I felt unexpectedly happy. Maybe there really was something to this positive-thinking stuff.
The next morning Amelia and Alyssa were waiting for me at the bus stop outside school.
‘Hey, we had a dream last night about a new guy arriving at our school. We think we should be friends with him,’ Alyssa said.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because he looks like he needs one,’ they said together.
I followed their gaze and saw a guy standing by himself on the school steps, staring up at the imposing Victorian facade of the school building like he didn’t know whether to enter or not. He had bad acne and greasy dark hair, and he definitely could’ve done with losing a few pounds. Another misfit, like me – or more like I used to be, now that I seemed to be assembling a few friends.
‘C’mon, let’s talk to him,’ I said to the twins.
I walked up to the guy and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped.
‘Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I said, smiling in what I hoped was a warm and friendly way. ‘I’m Vania and this is Amelia and Alyssa.’ The twins smiled and nodded at him.
‘Uh, I’m Dean . . . Dean Librado. I’m new here.’
His hair was so greasy it was kind of grossing me out, but knowing firsthand what it was like to be judged, I felt bad for him. And at least he didn’t smell bad.
‘Do you need help finding your way around?’ I asked. He smiled gratefully. And, letting positive thinking rule, I noticed he had a nice smile.
‘Yeah, thanks, that would be great. I’m a bit lost. I have a map of the classrooms, but I’m supposed to see the principal and I have no idea where the office is.’
‘We’ll take you there,’ Amelia piped up. ‘We have to go that way anyway. Vania, we’ll see you at lunch.’
For a second I was confused. Why was she taking over? Then I saw she was flicking her eyes behind me. I turned around to see Bryce walking towards us.
‘Cool,’ I said, and then I added to Dean, ‘Nice to meet you – see you later on today.’
The three of them walked up the stairs. Dean was smiling as the girls chattered on together, no doubt saying the same things at exactly the same time.
I felt all warm and fuzzy after my good Samaritan effort, but before I could use my positive thinking on Bryce Cassidy came up behind me and pushed me out of the way. ‘Stay away, Fish Lips,’ she hissed as she passed.
‘Hey Bryce!’ she called out, and he smiled at her. She kissed him on the cheek before looking at me smugly as she linked arms with him. ‘Walk with me,’ she said to him.
Bryce looked at me but didn’t smile or even nod in acknowledgement. In fact, he completely ignored me as he passed by and walked up the stairs with her.
What had just happened? I felt like a total idiot. I stood there alone for a moment before slowly following them inside. It wasn’t like I had much choice.
Down the corridor Bryce was laughing at something Cassidy whispered in his ear. Was he laughing at me? How could I seriously have thought there was anything between him and me – whether we both believed in ghosts or not? No matter how many magical powers I could eventually develop, I would never have the perfect body, blonde hair and cheerleader status that Cassidy had.
Right now the power of positive thinking seemed like a load of crap.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, I had chemistry. And this time Mr Barrow called me up to the front of the class right at the start. He challenged me to solve a complicated formula – made more complicated by the fact that it made no sense. After fifteen minutes of me standing there writing the start of solutions only to have to erase them again, he snatched the marker out of my hand and solved the problem himself. But not before I noticed that he surreptitiously changed some of the equation’s figures so that it would be solvable.
‘So, you are not bulletproof after all, Miss Thorn,’ he sneered as some of the class giggled and I slunk back to my seat. Just like the day Cassidy had teased me on the bus, I started to feel black anger rise in my throat. But when I looked up Mr Barrow was staring at me again in that strange, cold way. All my anger was squished like a bug and I just felt flattened.
By the time I got home I was in a foul mood. I huddled in my room, pretending to do homework but secretlydoing nothing more than wishing for my old, relatively anonymous life in Australia. Mrs Torre’s tea-leaf reading had freaked me out, so that now my friendship with the twins seemed somewhat tainted, to be honest. And as if that wasn’t enough to unsettle me, the meaner Mr Barrow was, the weaker I felt. For some reason I just couldn’t stand up to him the way I normally would. So far this ‘gift’ Mrs Torre had talked about hadn’t reared its head yet, either. And more than anything, I was wishing that Bryce had never walked me home that first time. The angelic halo of sunshine around him that I remembered from that afternoon now brought to mind the fires of hell.
My mother thrust her head around my door. ‘Vania, I saw an interesting recipe on the Food Channel today – a Chinese soup. You know your father loves Chinese food . . . and, umm, it’s vegetarian, with broccoli and tofu. What do you think?’
I nodded and tried to smile; then in a desperate attempt to distract myself from how much my life sucked, I took the plunge and said, ‘Maybe I can help you make it?’
My mother beamed. ‘Oh, that would be just lovely!’
I peeled and chopped the broccoli, and my mother diced coriander and shallots, and together we added pinches of chilli and dashes of soy sauce until, each sipping samples from the same spoon, we agreed that the soup had just the right spicy ‘kick’.
This was the first time my mother and I had ever done anything like this together. It was actually fun, and it distracted me from my problems. The fact that she was embracing my vegetarianism cheered me up.
Even more surprisingly, my father loved the soup. Mum and I watched as he gulped it down enthusiastically.
‘This is delicious. The chicken is so tender,’ he exclaimed as he scooped up a piece of tofu with his spoon.
‘No, honey,’ said my mother. ‘That’s not chicken, that’s tofu.’
Seeing his confused expression, she added a little hesitantly, ‘It’s vegetarian chicken.’
My father continued to frown as he considered this for a moment. ‘Well, if you two are the chefs then I think I can handle this vegetarian stuff,’ he said eventually in a gruff but approving tone.
I was so happy I thought I would cry. It felt like a magical spell had been cast. Who would have thought we would all be sitting there so happily, enjoying dinner together . . . a vegetarian dinner!
But the only spell I had cast was thinking positively and deciding to focus on what did work in my relationship with my parents instead of what didn’t. As I went to bed that night I promised myself I would keep practising the magic of positive thinking, not just with my parents, but with everyone – even Bryce and Cassidy.
The next morning, unfortunately, I woke feeling less confident in my ability to see the best in every situation. I headed into school determined to avoid Bryce and spare myself more heartache – but I resolved I would keep smiling no matter what.
My first challenge presented itself when Mr Barrow cornered me in the corridor as I was attempting to get to maths.
‘Vania Thorn,’ he said, glaring at me. What was his problem?
‘Yes, Mr Barrow?’ I said as politely as I could.
‘I need to speak with you about your test results. Meet me in my office at lunchtime.’ He turned on his heel and strode away.
I stared after him in surprise. I’d scored ninety-six per cent on my test. What was wrong with that?
Morning classes were over all too quickly, and at twelve noon I was reluctantly knocking on Mr Barrow’s office door.
‘Enter!’
I felt like I was on trial in the Spanish Inquisition as I stood in front of his desk through minutes of unbearable silence before he finally looked up and spoke.
‘I find it hard to believe that someone who does not apply themself in class could achieve such high results; this leads me to believe that you are cheating,’ he said.
I was too dumbstruck to respond. Since when did teachers tell you off for being good at something?
‘Silence is insolent and disrespectful,’ Mr Barrow said when I didn’t reply. ‘Be in my laboratory at 3.30 p.m. for after-school detention today. Do not be late.’
‘B-but Mr Barrow,’ I stammered. My mouth had gone so dry I could hardly speak.
‘Three-thirty!’ he snapped.
An hour later I forced myself to walk to English, but my thoughts were all over the place. Why did Mr Barrow have it in for me? Could this have anything to do with the omen in the tea-leaves? Though if anybody wished me ill, surely it was Cassidy. I just wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
The first person I saw when I walked into class was Bryce. He was sitting with Cassidy and two other popular kids. I kept my eyes lowered, allowing my hair to fall forward and shield my face as I slid into a seat on the far side of the room.
We were reading Pride and Prejudice. I had already studied it at school in Australia, and it had become one of my few favourite novels. I was momentarily distracted from my woes as I immersed myself in Jane Austen’s complicated and backstabbing Regency world. But then I heard Bryce laugh, and our eyes met across the room.
Positive thinking, positive thinking. I kept saying the magic words over and over to myself, but they felt hollow and meaningless, and as soon as the bell rang I bolted from the class to avoid Bryce and Cassidy.
Cassidy, however, had other ideas. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her make a beeline for my locker. I stuck my head as far as I could into the old metal cabinet, willing myself to disappear – which didn’t work – so instead I pretended to be intent on shuffling some books around at the back of the cramped space. But there was no escaping her. The background chatter of students and scuffing of feet along the corridor seemed to fade as she reached me. ‘Hey, Fish Lips!’
The black hatred I’d felt towards her on the bus that day boiled up in the pit of my stomach again, with such intensity it threatened to engulf me in seconds. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? She had Bryce. I had been made a fool of. Why did she have to keep picking on me?
I considered appealing to her, asking her to lay off. But then she pushed my locker door, hard. It jammed into my shoulder. I struggled to keep from turning around and punching her.
‘You think you’re so special and different, Mrs Fish,’ she said. ‘Well, you’re not. You’re a freak, and Bryce knows it. We all know it. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of our way.’
In that moment I hated her so much I wanted to wish her dead. But then I remembered the tree – and the magic and power of thoughts. As horrible as she was, I knew I had to try to find something good in this. The only positive thing I could imagine happening, however, was her going away, so inside my head, with every fibre of my being, I said, Please, please, just go away.
I looked Cassidy straight in the eye. She looked back at me uncertainly. Her eyes flickered, and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly she swung around as if someone had pushed her and walked rapidly away.
The blackness started to seep out of me, and my hands relaxed as I watched her retreat. I smiled. Positive thinking – maybe it wasn’t crap after all.
Later that afternoon, Amelia and Alyssa waved goodbye and I headed for Mr Barrow’s detention. I still couldn’t believe he was punishing me for doing well in my test.
The door to the chemistry lab was shut. I knocked hesitantly before opening it. Mr Barrow was sitting behind his desk; he didn’t look up. ‘Come here, Vania Thorn,’ he said.
I decided not to let him intimidate me, so I strolled casually to his desk. Annoyingly, he still didn’t look up.
‘Let’s see if you can do this,’ he muttered under his breath. He held up something in his left hand. It was a copper penny. ‘Turn this into gold,’ he said. He placed the penny on the desk in front of me.
I almost laughed. Surely he was joking?
‘You can stop smirking. You are not leaving this room until you do,’ he said.
‘Mr Barrow, that’s impossible!’ I almost whimpered.
‘Alchemists of old claimed otherwise,’ he sneered. ‘You tell me, you’re so very clever – surely you can work it out? You being so . . . talented.’ His mean eyes glinted.
‘Mr Barrow, I have no idea how to do that,’ I said.
‘Then it’s going to be a long afternoon.’
The man was insane, I decided. Why was he always picking on me? Well, it didn’t look like I had much choice. I set my jaw, picked up the penny and walked over to the beakers, hotplates and burners. I didn’t know where to begin. Or maybe I did? Suddenly a sense of calm came over me, as I remembered that under heat zinc reacted with copper and could turn the copper silver . . . that was halfway to gold. I decided to start there.
I heated water in a beaker, added zinc sulfate and waited until the water was hot and oily-looking. I retrieved some zinc filings from a box on the shelf and placed them in the mixture. Using forceps, I picked up the penny and carefully dropped it into the beaker. As it touched the zinc it started to change colour. Ten minutes later I removed a silver penny from the beaker. I looked over my shoulder at Mr Barrow, but he seemed engrossed in some papers he was marking at his desk.
I knew he wouldn’t accept half a result. But I really had no clue what to do with this penny to make it gold. I had once read an alchemy book that said it was possible to turn base metals into actual precious metals. But that was way beyond anything I could achieve myself.
If only magic were real . . . Maybe it could be if I decided to believe it was?
‘Magic is the art of creating change with will.’ I mumbled the words softly and focused on the silver penny gripped in the forceps. I don’t know how long I stood there gazing at it, willing it to turn to gold.
‘Vania Thorn!’ Mr Barrow said loudly, making me jump and drop the penny onto the hotplate.
‘Yes, Mr Barrow?’ I tried to slow my pounding heart.
‘Are you prepared to admit that you cheated on your exam?’ he said.
‘No, sir!’ I said. ‘Because I didn’t.’
He shook his head and went back to his papers. I turned to retrieve the penny, which had fallen on the hotplate. To my astonishment, it was a dark golden colour!
Had I willed it to be? Had the magic started to work before I’d dropped it? I grabbed the forceps and carefully picked up the penny. It was too hot to touch, so I placed it in a beaker filled with cold water.
And in front of my eyes it transformed into perfect, lustrous gold. I felt dizzy but managed to conceal my shock and delight as I took the penny out of the water and turned off the hotplate, putting away the beakers and zinc. I steeled myself and walked over to Mr Barrow.
‘Sir,’ I said, placing the penny on the desk in front of him.
He picked up the shiny gold disc without saying anything. The silence in the lab felt thick and claustrophobic. Just when I thought I couldn’t bear it anymore he finally spoke.
‘Well done, Vania Thorn. I’m not sure how you pulled this off – are you?’ Far from praising, his tone was sinister.
‘No, I’m not sure, sir,’ I answered truthfully. The words caught in my throat.
‘Well, I expect you are going to find out.’ He turned the gold penny slowly in his fingers.
I stood there, not sure what to do.
‘You may go,’ he said, without looking up. I got out of there as fast as I could.