The Girl in Red

by Clyde Andrews

part 1 of 2

My name is L.J.P. My actual name is a secret, so the acronym of my name will suffice. I dabble in the world of secrets. My identity is a secret. It protects me if others don’t know me. You see, I am a magician -no, it’s not what you think. I am not the kind of magician that pulls rabbits from hats, or saws beautiful girls in half. I am a magician that uses logic, every day items, and sometimes maths to achieve what you would call, real magic. Making objects appear from what you would call thin air, if you will. I know you may think that impossible, but I see the world differently. I use magic to create the unbelievable, the unexpected.

I was about to leave my practice for the last time. Today was my retirement day: November the 14th. A day I shall always remember. The office staff gave me my gold watch and a merry party. Thank you very much, now be a good chap and be on your way. I had worked there for nearly 35 years; day in, day out. Seeing the same people, the same patients. But it was human contact.

You see I never married; my being a magician didn’t permit it. I couldn’t put a partner in danger. But being human, I needed people to talk to; I suppose that is why they gave me an early retirement. Usually it was the lonely old patients that came in for a chat with just the slightest sniffle for an excuse. Not so with me. I would talk their ears off as Judy would say: she was our head receptionist. Lovely lady, but a bit too career oriented for my liking. If you didn’t talk about work with her, then you really didn’t get any sort of conversation.

I sighed as I closed the practice door. The day was late and the air was cold. There was still a glimmer of dusk in the sky as I headed slowly to my car; with my shoulders slumped and my head hung low. Not much of a view looking at the pavement in front of your feet. But I simply did not feel like interacting with my surroundings. You could say I was a little depressed.

Then it happened, a screech of wheels and a slam of a car door. The noise from it scared me out of my wits and my heart skipped a beat. It snapped me out of my melancholy that was certain. I quickly raised my head up to see what the commotion was about, but all I saw was the result of that commotion; a body laying on the kerb. I rushed as quick as I could to it. My arthritic joints causing me grief, and I winced. But I got to it.

“Excuse... me... Are you all... right?” I said, a little short of breath.

The body lay still; twisted in a awkward position. As I approached, I got a better look. The body was wearing a dress, a beautiful red sequinned dress. The body was a that of a young woman. Long blonde hair, stunning features. She looked incredibly young; no more than twenty-one; almost a baby. I tried to wake her, but before I could reach down, she stirred.

“Where?... Where...?” she said.

“Relax, dear. I am a doctor,” I said, but it sounded rather corny as the words passed out of my mouth. Like something a cardboard character would say on one of those cheesy soap operas on the telly.

“What... happened?” she said, holding her head.

“I was hoping you would tell me, my child. I did not see.”

“Have you got somewhere... I could stay for a while?” I was taken aback by this comment. All through my life I had been trying to get the ladies back to my house. Then boom, when you are stuck swimming in your own self-pity a pretty young thing volunteers. Some turn-around.

“Ughh, yes... Come with me... Can you stand?” But as I said it I got a horrible feeling. A sort of feeling that your good conscience tells you was the absolute wrong thing to do. The sort of feeling that leads hapless souls to their doom. I swallowed hard and accepted that no matter the decision, I could not leave her here. My morality guaranteed that I couldn’t. She used my arm to help herself to her feet.

Before I knew it we were in my car; a beat-up old Toyota Corolla, and heading for my house. She did not speak as I drove, just stared out the passenger-side window. The practice was only a suburb away from my home and the drive lasted no more than 15 minutes. I think she needed that time to get her head together. To think of some way of explaining herself. After all, I needed a damn good explanation.

Once inside my home I found myself in my kitchen boiling water for a cuppa. She looked like she needed one after what she had just been through, so I did not even ask her. I just made it. She accepted gracefully, and drank like it was the first cup of tea she had had all week. I waited for her to make the next move.

Eventually, after draining the cup she said, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I added, trying to ignite the conversation. This girl looked like she had a lot on her mind, and she was wrestling with her conscience as to the best way to say it. I had seen it nearly every day, being a doctor. Young girls coming into the practice, knowing they had to because they were pregnant, but not wanting their parents to know. Or young men sleeping around, catching God knows what, and having to explain themselves. It was almost routine. But I had a feeling this girl was not going to tell me she was pregnant. She had far bigger issues on her mind, and she kept on flicking her fingernails and fidgeting in her chair as a result.

“I have seen... something... horrible.”

I let her continue, without interruption. I had become an expert in this field, she will tell me in good time. On her own terms. I waited patiently for her to unravel her story. I only prompted her occasionally with an “Umm” or an “Ahh” at the appropriate places. A very doctorly thing to do.

“A man, he could do horrible things... just by drawing on the table.”

I raised an eyebrow, slowly.

“He could kill birds and rabbits... Just by placing them in a circle... They would be... vaporised!” I let her continue, but now both of my eyebrows were as high as they could go.

“He wanted to kill... ME!”

I could not contain myself anymore. “It sounds like you are talking about a magician.”

Now it was her turn to look surprised. She looked up at me, and I noticed straight away the mascara streaks down her face and smudged lip stick. “How do you know?... How could you know?... I have never seen such a thing.”

“Relax, dear. You got away from him. Somewhat dramatically by the sound of it,” I said to her in a soft tone of voice, almost a whisper.

“He wanted to take me to this place... To kill me. A sacred place he called it. I did not want to. I was scared out of my mind. But I managed to get out of his car... And, well, you know the rest. I think I have done something to my arm, I can’t move it for the pain,” she said, emphasizing the words by wincing and rubbing her arm.

“I will look at your arm, and then, my dear, we must find this man,” I said, rustling through the middle kitchen drawer for some bandages. Finding them, I then started to put her bruised arm into a sling.

“What! Are you crazy?”

“I can assure you that I am not ‘crazy’. I am also a magician. Quite a powerful one I must say, without sounding too self-important,” I said.

“Oh, I see. Is it common to be a magician? I mean, are they like brunettes or redheads or something?”

“Ha, I wish. No, unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view. We are few and far between.”

“Fortunately, as far as I am concerned. Just my luck if you are all so rare,” she smiled again. “Typical for me to bump into two in one night,” she said letting out a little giggle.

“That’s better. You look much better with a smile on your face. Your last point brings me to a new point of interest; you said that you only met this magician tonight?” I rubbed my chin in thought. You could almost hear the cogs of my brain working.

“Yes, that’s right,” she said as she flicked her wandering hair away from her face with her free arm.

“Tell me about it. Tell me everything.”

“Sure, where do I start?” she replied as she shifted her weight about on the lounge chair she had made her home.

She then launched into her tale. Telling me about her girlfriends setting up a blind date for her with this super-handsome man. Big mistake in my opinion. Never, ever say you will go out with someone without even seeing them first. Lord knows, I have had friends who have been married for years, and their partners can still surprise them; sometimes for the best, other times for the worst. It’s bad enough these days what with all these murders and rapes you hear everyday on the news. When will pretty young girls learn? Don’t even get me started on the clothes they wear. Sometimes I think they are just asking for trouble.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Eh? I am sorry. I just realised I don’t even know your name,” I said, as I must admit I had drifted off a bit. I had a tendency to do that when magic was concerned.

“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Addams... And you are?”

“L.J.P.”

She recoiled a little. “What sort of name is that?”

“It’s my name! Anyway we have more important things to worry about. This blind date of yours, for one.”

“Yes. He actually turned out to be quite a nutter as the evening wore on. It was like, ‘beam me up Scotty’ at one stage after dessert. He was ranting and raving about world domination or some such nonsense. I’ll kill, Christine and Emma the next time I see them for fixing me up with such a jerk,” she spat out the words in a genuine distaste for the fellow that had ruined her Friday evening.

“Are you ready to find your failed suitor?”

She put down her empty coffee mug, stood up and said, “You bet! He owes me $35.50 for his half of the meal. Not only is he a complete jerk, he ran off before he had to pay. Then he waited for me to come out of the restaurant and grabbed me.”

“He sounds like man’s greatest achievement to me,” I laughed.

She also laughed, “Why is it all older men are so great towards younger girls? I mean, guys my age are tossers. They only want one thing, and the ones that don’t are gay!”

I laughed, she really did have a great sense of humour. “Well, what are we waiting for, lets go.”

Again we were back in my car. This time however, we had a better conversation. All one way I must admit. She just talked and talked and talked. I think this poor girl was yearning for someone to talk to. It was usually me that did all the talking. Some turn around. Maybe she needed a father figure and found one in me. Maybe she was just plain chatty. I had a feeling it was the later. We soon found ourselves near the street of my ‘old’ practice. I missed it already, and I had only been away for a couple of hours.

“Now, do you know where he was taking you? Roughly,” I said as I peered through the windshield that was now spotted with rain.

“Umm, yeah sure, he mentioned something about the new works going on at the docklands. I think he was taking me to a building site there. Obviously where he was going to... You know... ”

“Yes. I know. Don’t fret.”

I turned right at the next street junction and headed towards the docklands, the steering wheel of my old car cranking loudly as I turned it. I hoped we could find this fellow easily; this dark magician. As I did not want him running about killing pretty young girls all over the place. The police would be as useless as an emergency exit on the Titanic when it came to investigating the murders of any future victims of this magician. They would simply be puzzled. Magical crimes are baffling to say the least. This dark magician would not stop at one girl either; just because he had failed with Elizabeth. I had to sort him out. I Just hope he doesn’t object too strongly. I smiled to myself. Thankfully Elizabeth didn’t notice. She was too busy chatting; and they said I could talk the ears off a donkey.

It started to rain harder, so I turned on the windscreen wipers. They screeched across the window and clanked when they stopped. This did not seem to deter Elizabeth from her incessant talking. She was now playing with her hair, as if she were talking to a girlfriend on the phone or something. Just great. I had become a confidant to this girl. Oh well, it could be worse; I could be her ‘boyfriend’. I shuddered at that thought. She was definitely not my type: too young, too much attitude, and too self-centred. Although I must say she was darn cute. It just goes to show we can’t have it all.

We came to a street that was near the docklands. It looked familiar to me. In fact it was the street where I had been only a few days before. You see being a magician I require a great deal of ‘things’ to help him me in my craft. I was here Tuesday, or was it Wednesday? Anyway, I was here collecting an order of vervain from an specialist florist at the end of this street. Just don’t ask me what I wanted to do with the vervain, just let it be known that it is useful in keeping away evil spirits from the home when used correctly.

Elizabeth suddenly cried out, “Look there!”

I twisted my head to the left to see what she had seen. There, in a normal looking row of doorways, was one with a pentacle above it. Only just visible in the darkness.

“Well spotted, Elizabeth. Well spotted indeed,” I said, very impressed. “It would certainly be a good place to start.”

“I’m nervous,” she said as she looked at me for the first time in a long while.

I could see it in her eyes, she was scared. I pulled over. We got out. Elizabeth was very quiet all of a sudden; which I must admit I enjoyed. I smiled at her in an attempt to reassure her, hopefully it made a little difference. We stood in the rain for a few seconds more, I needed to sort this all out in my mind. Then, once satisfied that I had decided to just go for it, I headed for the door with the pentacle. She followed me.

“You can stay in the car if you like. You don’t have to come in,” I reassured her.

“Hell no. I want to see this bastard get what’s coming to him.” I smiled again, plucky this one.

“Fair enough. I was just being polite you know.”

“Yeah, I know... Thanks.”

We approached the door in question. She did have an eagle-eye. For the pentacle above the door was drawn in chalk; and rain had erased some of it. I tested the handle. Naturally it was locked. Well, that did not surprise me, after all, in this neighbourhood everyone locked their doors. I produced my own piece of chalk from my jacket pocket, and quickly drew a circle around the handle.

Elizabeth looked on, not saying a word. I almost got the feeling, when we were back in the car, that she could talk under wet cement. I liked this side of her, much better. It showed me that she had a strong side and that in fact she was a smart kid: she knew when to keep quiet, this was definitely one of those times.

Around the circle I added a mathematical algorithm and a formula or two. Once completed, there was a soft ‘click’ and the handle could be turned. Elizabeth kept silent, she was amazed at the sight, I could see it. But she had seen much, much worse lately.

“Shall we?” I gestured for her to enter; a gentleman always lets in a lady first and I always thought myself a gentleman.

“Um, I think you had better go first. I don’t want to... you know, bump into him without you being there. You understand.”

I nodded and entered the building. Inside it was nothing out of the ordinary. The large open foyer we stepped into was lit by a buzzing fluorescent tube: it was once an old warehouse that was now being converted to apartments. The sight of building materials scattered all about the place, along with piles of sand and building waste a dead give-away to that fact. There were double entry doors directly ahead. I looked at Elizabeth, she just gave me a nervous smile.

Proceed to part 2...

Copyright © 2005 by Clyde Andrews