Memory's Door by James L. Rubart

Author:James L. Rubart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2013-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-NINE

MARCUS FINISHED UP HIS LAST CLASS ON MONDAY afternoon and called Simon’s cell phone again. This would be the third message without a callback, but Marcus didn’t care. He wanted to talk to the magician again. Simon hadn’t been on campus for the past three weeks, or if he had, Marcus hadn’t seen him. The magician had implied they’d talk again but it hadn’t happened.

He wanted to ask Simon why the switching had stopped and why it had happened in the first place. And he wanted to talk about the Wolf. How did Simon know about that? What part was God going to have the magician play in this game?

Marcus didn’t trust him, but the conjurer had at least some kind of answers, of that Marcus had no doubt. And more than anyone else could offer. As Marcus walked toward Red Square, the call went to voice mail. “Simon here. Do you believe in magic? The Lovin’ Spoonful did. I do too. Leave a message.”

Marcus smiled. Reece would love that message.

“Simon, it’s Marcus. I’d like to talk again. Call me. You have the number from my previous calls. I apologize for the persistence, but I want to continue our discussion from before.”

Marcus trudged across the bricks that made up Red Square toward the parking garage but on a whim turned left and headed toward Drumheller Fountain. It’s where he’d last seen Simon. Why not?

When he was still one hundred yards from the fountain, Marcus spotted what looked like Simon. It had to be the magician. Who else would be balancing on one leg, the other in the air along with his arms, reaching for the sky? And doing it up on the concrete ring of the fountain dressed in all black. When Marcus was still twenty-five yards away, Simon turned and hopped onto the ground like a cat.

“Professor of time and all it contains, what do you do when realities rain down all around you like lightning and snow, and when the bough breaks, where do you go?”

Simon hadn’t mentioned his ability to look more than a little crazy while spouting his somehow-ingratiating rhymes. The magician’s gaze darted from the fountain to Marcus to the sky to the ground back to the fountain.

“It’s good to see you, Simon.”

“Is it?” Simon blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Good to be seen in this reality. It is real, isn’t it? I’m choosing to believe so.”

“Did you receive my cell phone messages?”

Simon rubbed his head as if he were scrubbing a one-hundred-year-old grease spot off a silver chalice. “I’ve been having a tough few days. Not sure if I have a cell phone here. Can’t remember.”

“Here? As opposed to where?”

“Other places, the other places, the other places. Stop asking about it. I don’t want to go there. Got free of that finally. Never going back.”

Simon bent over and squeezed and unsqueezed his fists like pistons working overtime. “What do you want to say today, and hear with ears that might not listen, to flashes

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