Mercy's Magic (2 page)

Magic Eye Private I

She and Terra watched with pride as the two got into their car parked out front. A couple of crewmen on a scaffold were having trouble balancing the letter
M
just above the varnished, antique door. Mercy and Terra looked on, wondering if the letter would stay in place as it kept falling into a slant.

Mercy felt a sudden urge to touch the air when she saw the men struggling. She reached her hand out as if she were tapping the letter from afar and tilted it to the right ever so slightly.

Terra gasped as the letter magically lurched upward, spitting in the face of Newton himself.

“Dios Mio
,” Mercy whispered. It seemed her own powers were growing, too. Terra knew her mother had done it and with just the flick of her hand.

Terra and Mercy caught the glances from the crewmen. They shrugged and smiled at them through the windshield right before the crewmen burst into laughter at the minor occupational miracle.

“I thought you said to let others figure stuff out on their own,” Terra said.

Mercy sighed. “I know,
Mija,
” she said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry. I guess we all make mistakes.”

Terra nodded, but Mercy couldn’t help but smile as she merged their into the slow flow of cars that looped around the traffic circle in front of the office, before heading toward Terra’s school.

Chapter Two

“So, what’s the problem?”

Mercedes leveled a cool gaze onto her ex-husband, Grant. “There’s no problem, really,” she stated.

“You just told me Terra’s teacher had a long talk with you. Terra’s misbehaving in school.
Christ
, Mercy, she’s only in kindergarten! What kind of trouble could she possibly get into?”

“The teacher doesn’t understand her.” Mercy tried to explain. “She thinks Terra’s acting out because she’s got A.D.H.D. But I know she doesn’t.”

“Of course not,” Grant agreed. “But something must be going on if the teacher has to talk with you over and over.”

Mercy sighed. Grant really hadn’t known what he was getting into when he married her. She’d never been able to bring herself to tell him she’d come from a long line of witches, and Grant stopped trying to understand Mercy toward the end of their marriage anyway. This, compounded with Grant’s strong traditional and Catholic beliefs, was a recipe for divorce.

“She’s just...very sensitive,” Mercy told him. “And perhaps a little intuitive. She cares about the other students, and she tries to set things right. Terra just needs to learn to mind her own business, that’s all. When she does, I’m sure she’ll calm down.”

“And in the meantime?” Grant asked. “I don’t want our daughter labeled from kindergarten on. Those labels can stick around a long time. They’ll affect her self-esteem.”

“I know, Grant, I know. I don’t want that either. I’m working on it...talking with her all the time.”

Grant nodded but with a pout. Mercy understood his moods and stopped the conversation. She noticed his hair was greying a little too and her eyes softened. He’d run the business since his father retired, and Mercy understood he was under a lot of pressure. And she also knew Grant loved Terra as much as she did.

“Look, I didn’t come to argue with you,” Mercy said, softly as she knew dealing with Grant was all about the tone in her voice. “I’m just keeping you informed. Okay? And I thought I’d save you some time and pick up the check.”

Grant walked up to his desk and pulled out a pre-written check from underneath a stack of invoices and handed it to Mercy.

“Thank you.” She paused a moment, trying to find the right words. “She’ll be fine, Grant.”

“I know, Mercy.”

Despite the disagreements, Grant regarded Mercy as a wonderful mother. It was a shame the way things turned out between them; he still cared about her, and loved Terra deeply. She was the light of his life. If only Mercy had succumbed to his definition of a stay at home wife and mother, they’d probably would have remained married. But Mercy was stubborn, and she’d refused. He knew she didn’t want that kind of life. And there was a mysterious nature about Mercy that Grant never did comprehend. She always seemed as if she were reading his thoughts, answering his questions with miraculous accuracy, almost clairvoyantly, to the point of irritation.

He shook his head, dispelling the haunting memories of spousal mind control. “Well, I’d like to spend more time with her, if that’s okay with you?” he asked.

“Of course, Grant,” Mercy said. “Terra loves spending time with her daddy.” This brought a smile to his face. “Just don’t spoil her too much,” she added. “It’s hard for me to get her back into a routine after you give her tons of ice cream and let her stay up all night watching videos on your tablet!” But she smiled, too. Let him spoil her. After all, he didn’t spend half the time with their daughter as Mercy did.

“Is it okay if I have her over for the whole weekend?” Grant asked.

Mercy hesitated only a moment. Her heart ached when her daughter wasn’t with her. They were very close. But she was grateful that Terra had a father who loved her too.

“I suppose,” she answered. “I’ve got a lot of work to do anyhow.”

“Hey, how’s the business going, anyway?” he asked.

“Good,” she answered with a smile. “I’m hustling work, but that’s alright.”

“You need more work?” His tone was casual, but Mercy sensed a serious undertone.

“Always,” she answered, leaning forward. “What do you have?”

“You know Javier, right?” he said, nervously scratching the back of his head. It wasn’t really a question either; he knew that she did.

“Javier?” Mercy said, surprised and concerned. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Grant answered. He then cleared his throat. “He’s...uh...he’s been missing for four days.

* * *

Mercy sat back in her chair, stunned. She knew Javier and his family well. Javier had been working there long before Mercy even met Grant, and she’d never known him to miss a day of work in his life. “What do you mean
missing
?” she finally asked. “Missing from home or work?”

“I mean he hasn’t been to work in four days.” Grant was obviously irritated. “You know, I don’t remember the last time he missed a day.”

“I know. You’re right. Now that I look back, he’s been the most reliable employee I’ve ever known.” Mercy was concerned now. “What does Julia say?” She pronounced it the way Javier did,
Hoolia
.

“Who?”

“Julia, his wife.” Grant was okay in many ways, but the fact that he didn’t even know anything about his employees bothered Mercy.

“Well, she doesn’t know where he is either,” Grant replied. “The rest of the guys are worried, and frankly so am I. Would you be willing to check it out?”

Of course I would, Mercy thought to herself. Javier was an honest, hard-working family man whom she’d always respected. More than that, he and his family were dear to Mercy.  Many times Mercy had sent homegrown fruits and veggies to Javier and Julia’s home. In return, Mercy was delighted each Christmas with a couple of dozen delicious tamales. She would have looked into his disappearance even if Grant hadn’t asked her.

But the businesswoman in Mercy couldn’t help herself. Grant was the one with the money. She leveled her eyes at him again. “I suppose I could put off a couple of things, for both you and Javier, of course. But...”

“I’ll pay you, no problem,” Grant said, waving a hand. “Whatever you want. Productivity...morale is down without him. Bad for business…”

“Alright,” Mercy said. She flashed a pair of smiling eyes at the man she still cared for but was no longer in love with. “Give me his info. I need all you have on him, social security, driver’s license...does he have a green card?”

Grant opened a file drawer and began searching. “Give me a minute,” he said.

Mercy decided to wander into the shop’s innards while waiting on Grant for the necessary information to begin her search. She let herself out of the office and entered the huge work area. She’d been there hundreds of times before, but still couldn’t get used to the vibe of the place. It was always dark; the lights shining down from thirty feet above. It stank of chemicals she couldn’t begin to imagine the contents of.

She noticed the fridge on the right and knew it was always stocked with beer for clients Grant bargained with. Mostly Mexican beer;
Tecate, Bohemia, Modelo
. All familiar brands she used to sit down and drink with Grant when times were good.

She walked toward the large, rusty tanks filled with chemicals that smoked and brewed. Above them hung huge chains, some raised, some sinking down into the bowels of the tanks, clutching whatever pieces of metal that were being chromed. The other employees hailed her warmly and she greeted them in turn. But they were busy, lifting, lowering, using custom sanders to refine and reshape the chromed parts.

This was a money making operation for sure. A factory of sorts, the kind that most people never saw. They only saw the end result of all the dirty and dangerous hard work; clothing racks for department stores, push door-bars for huge buildings, a few custom silver accessories for flashy cars.

An eerie, heavy orange dust covered everything in the old place. Mercy remembered when she and Grant were married, he’d replace his steel-toed boots three or four times a year due to the acidic dust. Even Grant’s toes were eternally stained orange. Mercy shuddered and wrinkled her nose at the thought.

Mercy approached Grant’s other desk. This one was messy, dirty. Stacks of quotes and receipts, a desk calendar scribbled over with names and numbers. She took a seat in his chair, as she had done so many other times in the last eight years, and waited patiently, for Javier’s information.

Her eyes wandered to a wooden box filled with paychecks and time cards, then they moved to the front office door; Grant was still in there. She looked down at the phone and noticed he was on the line, probably with a customer.

She pulled in the wooden box from across the desk and plucked out Javier’s time card. He hadn’t missed a day until four days ago. But he had been late, and that wasn’t like him either. Five times in the last two weeks.

Right as Mercy sunk into deep thought, she jumped at the sensation of a hand on her shoulder. “Snooping around, my dear?”

She smiled up at Grant. “It’s my job. You know that.”

Grant handed her some papers. “Okay, see what you can dig up. Here’s a check for your time as well.”

Mercy rose and gave her ex-husband a perfunctory hug. “I’ll keep in touch. If you find anything out...”

“I’ll call you,” he finished. “I’m sorry, Mercy.” His voice held a hint of bitterness. “But I’ve got to get to work.”

Poor baby
, Mercedes thought sarcastically as she tapped Grant on his shoulder before making her way back through the front office and down the steps to her car.

A cool summer breeze swept the dry, orange tree leaves up from the cracked sidewalk. Mercy stopped and took in the citrusy smell. She smiled and a feeling of redemption tickled her soul as she realized that Grant had come around, and finally recognized her beyond the roles of mother and wife.

Chapter Three

Mercedes sat across from Julia, a stout, middle aged woman, with chubby fingers and short, black hair. They both sipped coffee. Mercy handed Javier’s wife another tissue.

“No, I haven’t seen him, I haven’t heard from him. Oh,
Dios Mio
, Mercy, where has he gone?” The woman cried openly. “And just when he was starting to make some good money, too! What am I going to do?”

Mercy put a warm and friendly hand on Julia’s. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

“
Por favor, Dios! Hazlo
!” Julia said, wiping her nose. Please, God, make it happen.

“You said he was just starting to make more money? Did he get a raise?” Mercy asked, doubt pursing her lips. Grant rarely gave raises.

“No, no,” Julia answered. “I love you, my dear, and I love your ex. But he wouldn’t give my Javier a raise.” Julia wiped her tears again.

“Wait, did he get another job?”

Julia nodded, wiping another tear from her eye.

“Have you encountered some debt?”

“No, it was our oldest son, David,” Julia smiled, thinking fondly on her son. “He did so well in school. You know he graduated with honors?” Julia’s eyes gleamed pride through her tears.

“Yes, I know you’re very proud of him. Congratulations.” Mercy smiled.

“Yes, of course, thank you. Well, he got a scholarship from UCLA. But it was only partial. But, Mercy, he wanted to go so bad! My Javier wanted so desperately to help him have a better life. So he got a night job to help with the tuition.”

“Really?”

“Please don’t tell
el Jeffe
about it. He doesn’t know,” Julia begged.

“Of course not,” Mercy answered.
El Jeffe
. Mercy chuckled inwardly at Julia’s name for Grant, Javier’s boss. “But where did he find work?”

“At a printing shop.” Julie’s eyes narrowed a bit. “He wouldn’t tell me where it was. I didn’t like that. But when he came home with cash every night, and David was able to pay his tuition and bought his books...oh, I know my husband is a good man. He loves David as much as I do. So I didn’t ask any questions.”

“Hmm,” Mercy said to herself, tapping her long, black-painted nails on the table.

“Mercy, he’s alright
, que no
? I mean, what do you think?”

Mercedes gave Julia an assuring smile, as she didn’t feel Javier’s spiritual presence in the home. If she did, then he was more than likely dead and, eventually, she’d have to be the bearer of bad news. “I’m sure he is, Julia. And I’m going to find him for you. Don’t you worry.”

Julia’s eyes brimmed again. “Thank you. You’re an angel. An angel, that’s what you are.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Mercy laughed. “But I’ll do whatever I can. Do you mind if I ask...”

“Anything!”

“I could use something of your husband’s,” Mercy said, choosing her words carefully. “Something...a comb with his hair, a shirt he wore, did he have any lucky charms or anything?”