A SMACK OF COMMON SENSE

by

Duckling

Chapter 1

The Chapters

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

Blonde-haired, brown-eyed Callie Shaw sat writing busily at one of the larger tables in the school library. The seventeen-year old expected to be joined by her boyfriend, Frank Hardy, at any minute. At the thought of the handsome dark-haired teen, Callie gave a wistful sigh.  A few weeks previously, the girl unintentionally wished Frank’s beloved younger brother away, forever. Fortunately, they were able to retrieve Joe from the dark void of his banishment. But that wish had altered the relationships she had with both brothers, as well as her friendship with Joe’s blonde girlfriend, Vanessa Bender.  

As she brushed an errant strand of hair out of her face, the girl thought over those changes.  

Eighteen-year old Frank, fiercely protective of the year-younger brother upon whom he doted, still chose to spend time with his girlfriend but maintained a wary distance. Although Callie knew that he had essentially forgiven her, she also knew that it would take some time, and work, before their relationship was back on track.  

The girl’s friendship with gray-eyed Vanessa likewise suffered. The light, easy rapport which once existed between the two was now shadowed by doubt and suspicion. Although the other girl had never actually said anything, Callie was acutely aware of the alien sense of unease that now shrouded their every interaction.  

And Joe. Callie shook her head and sighed. And Joe was afraid of her. While the blond boy was able to conceal it from the rest of their friends, traces of fear sometimes flashed in those bright blue eyes. Fear that all three of them could plainly see.  

That was the real reason, Callie knew, why her relationships with the other two were still strained. Until Joe was free of his fear of her, and her ability to wish him away forever, they would all remain prisoners to the consequences of that inopportune wish.  

Callie straightened up in her chair and reread what she had been writing. Satisfied with her work so far, she twirled a pencil absently around her fingers.  

Suddenly, the tall muscular form of Frank Hardy rose up beside her. He gave his girlfriend a small smile as he tossed his bag onto the floor. Settling into an empty chair, he asked: “What’s up?”  

“Not much,” Callie answered, beginning to feel a bit queasy in the stomach.  

“You looked awful busy when I came in. What are you writing?”   

Callie was suddenly very nervous. She didn’t think Frank was going to like what she had to say. Correction, the girl thought, I know he’s not going to like what I have to say.  

“Um . . . well . . . .” By now, Frank’s rich brown eyes had narrowed to a disconcerting degree as he watched his girlfriend fidget in her seat.  

“Callie?” The voice wasn’t quite sharp, but had more of an edge to it than was usual.  

Releasing a shaky sigh, Callie willed herself to look her boyfriend in the eye.  

“I . . . um, I thought I would  . . .  um, write an article on the lamp, and um . . . Joe’s experience.”  

“You what?” Frank’s voice was deceptively mild; it’s undercurrent of anger rendering it more frightening by the contrast.  

“Look, Frank,” Callie rushed, desperate to get him to understand. “The lamp is real. We have actual proof of that. Joe never would have disappeared if it hadn’t been.”  

Frank sat silently waiting for the girl to finish, disbelief and anger welling up within him.  

“So, I thought I’d write up the account of . . . er, what happened, complete with Joe’s experience, and submit the whole account, lamp included, to the Magic and Myth Convention organizers. For, um, scientific research.”  

The disjointed speech concluded, Callie suddenly looked down at her beautifully manicured nails, as if noticing them for the first time.  

Frank sat and stared at his girlfriend incredulously. First she wishes Joe away and now she wants to write up his experience and subject him to who knows what scientific prodding and prying? Spying the lamp by Callie’s books, Frank was suddenly seized with an irresistible urge to smack some common sense into his girlfriend.  

As the girl continued to study her nails, Frank barely noticed when his hand snaked out and grabbed the lamp, or when it hung in mid-air, poised above the soft, blonde hair.  

Only when it made contact with the girl’s head, and a wreath of purple smoke spiraled instantly out and enveloped Callie in its choking haze, did Frank realize what he had done.

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