An Excerpt from Make Mine Magic

CHAPTER ONE

I barely jumped out of the way before an oncoming pedestrian plowed right into me. He kept moving without even acknowledging the narrow escape. It was one thing not to be noticed, but having people try to walk straight through me was a bit much. I fought my way to the nearest lamppost so I could catch my breath without being trampled.

No sooner had I made it to relative safety than I heard a cry of pain. Instinctively, I whirled around and saw an elderly woman lying on the sidewalk a few feet away, shopping bags scattered about. Figures moved toward her, casting shadows over her. When I looked to see who was creating those shadows, the figures seemed blurred in darkness, no features distinct enough to note, probably because this was all happening so fast that I didn’t have time to stop and take stock. I might have been an overly paranoid visitor to a big city, but all my instincts said this woman was in trouble.

Even if I’d known then what I know now, I think I still would have rushed to her aid. After all, what kind of monster wouldn’t stop to help an elderly woman who’d fallen? Not that all the other people passing by were necessarily monsters. Most of them probably didn’t notice her. Their eyes were fixed on their phones, and their headphones drowned out the city. They had places to be and the kind of tunnel vision that’s critical to urban survival.

I wasn’t prone to heroism, but I took a deep breath and rushed toward her, not sure whether I should check on her or confront her possible attackers first. The question was decided for me when the figures saw that I’d seen them, and they backed off. It was a sunny day, without shade on this part of the sidewalk, and yet somehow these people melted away out of sight, or maybe I was so hyper-focused on the woman, my adrenaline spiking, that I didn’t notice them scattering. I wondered if it was my imagination, if I just associated them with darkness because I saw them as a threat.

I knelt by the woman. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

“My cane,” she said, her voice shaky, not quite at the point of panic, but close.

I spotted the red-tipped white cane lying nearby and felt a surge of relief that I’d helped, like I’d narrowly avoided a disaster. She wasn’t just an elderly woman, she was an elderly blind woman. Ignoring her would have racked up some terrible karma, and I needed all the good fortune I could get. I picked up the cane and put it against her palm so she could grasp it.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding a little steadier. “I had some packages.”

“They’re right here,” I told her as I gathered the shopping bags that had fallen around her, making sure nothing had spilled out of them or the purse she still had hooked around her elbow. “Does three bags sound right?”

“Yes, that’s it.” She turned unfocused pale-blue eyes in my general direction, and I had the eerie sensation that I was being seen for the first time since I’d been in New York, possibly even before that. Under her seemingly sightless gaze, I not only didn’t feel invisible or anonymous, I felt exposed, laid bare. But her gentle smile told me that she liked whatever she saw—or sensed—in me, so it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. “Would you mind helping me up?”

It took me a second to find my voice. “Not at all.” I offered my arm. She gripped it and held tight as she got her feet under herself and managed to stand. I rose with her and let her hold on as long as she needed to steady herself.

“Thank you. I’m not as good with that cane as I would like. I must have missed whatever it was that I tripped over.”

I frowned and looked at the sidewalk. The ground around us was smooth. There were no obstacles, cracks, or bumps. Had she tripped or had she been pushed? But surely she’d have noticed being pushed, and there had been those ominous figures. “Is there someone I can call for you?” I asked.

“That won’t be necessary. But would you mind helping me across the street?”

“I’d be glad to. It’s on red now, so we’ll have to wait. I’m Claire, by the way. Claire Jennings.”

“Aileen Richmond. And I thank you again for stopping to help.” She smiled slightly. “You don’t sound like you’re local.”

“I’m afraid I’m a tourist, here from Texas.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. It means you’re expanding your horizons. Most of the people who sneer at tourists have seldom left their own comfort zones.”

“The light just changed. There’s a step down.” I didn’t have to moderate my pace much to stay with her as we crossed the street. In spite of what she’d said about not being good with the cane, she moved with confidence and found the curb on the opposite side of the street before I had to warn her. That made it seem even less likely that she’d simply fallen. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was stalking us. There was no sign of the figures I thought I’d seen.