Boy, Magic

S: Elliot is a warlock in training trying to keep his identity secret, what will he do when his nosey neighbour Holly finds out his secret?

I was sitting next to my little sister at her lemonade stand. It was the first day of summer; she wanted to be the first to sell her lemonade. The cheery look on her face never left as she sat waiting for a customer all morning. I decided to keep her company.

Looking up and down the dead neighbourhood street I knew that today wouldn’t be a good day. I wanted to suggest that she should sell her lemonade on a Sunday but she wouldn’t hear of it, she wanted to be the first one selling lemonade, and she was. She just wasn’t selling that much lemonade.

“Hey Elyse,” I said, “maybe we should close up shop for the day.”

Elyse looked at me with her wide doe eyes, “why would we do a thing like that?”

I didn’t know how to tell her that lemonade sales were passé and that everyone just goes to the store a block away to buy pop. As I was thinking of a way to tell her this, a large moving van drove down our street.

Moving vans rarely came down our street. As soon as the van strolled down the street our neighbours started peeping through their windows at the unusual sight. Minutes later a blue car followed the van and parked in the drive way across the street from my house.

Seconds later a family exited the car and stood on the front lawn of the house. The mother was a beautiful blonde who looked like a movie star in a movie I just couldn’t remember. Her giant framed black sunglasses and Chanel like black business suit made her look even more like a movie star, or a New York socialite.

The mother stared at the house with disgust. She stomped heavily and angrily through the perfectly cutgrass on her lawn to the front door. She pulled keys out of her designer purse and tried to open the front door.

A man in a business suit came out of the driver side of the car and waited next to the car as he watched his children get out of the car. Two young twins (about Elyse’s age) came out of the car dressed in (what looked fairly expensive) floral baby doll dresses.

I noticed Elyse staring at the girls with excitement. She turned to me hastily, “make them buy lemonade!” she demanded.

I stared at my little sister aghast; “you want me to go over there to solicited you business?”

“I’ve sold three glasses of lemonade all day! Three of those glasses were sold to you! Now you go over there and get me some business!” Elyse pushed me out of my chair and I started walking towards our new neighbours.

I approached our new neighbours feeling like I was a tad bit underdressed. I decided to walk up to the father considering the mother was still fighting with the door to get the key in.

“Hello,” I said in a cheery voice, “welcome to Macklin corners, I’m you’re neighbour Holly Matheson.”

The man looked at me, “Matheson, huh?”

The question was really awkward how was I supposed to reply to that? Matheson huh?

The man’s composure changed and suddenly he was cheery, “We’re the Barnette’s we’re new to this neighbourhood!” he put his hand on my shoulder, “Thanks for welcoming us to this very ordinary all American neighbourhood.”

Ordinary? I asked myself, is that supposed to be a compliment?

“Look,” Mr. Barnette said pointing to my sister’s classic lemonade stand, “an all American Lemonade stand! kids, let’s get some All-American lemonade!” Mr. Barnette and his two daughters walked across the street to my sister.

I stood on the curb of their driveway confused. I turned to see the wife still trying to open the front door. I decided to go and help her. I slowly walked behind her and listened to her curse underneath her breath.

“I don’t care what Theodore says,” she said as she pulled up her sleeves, “ I’m using—“

“MOM!”

I turned to see another person come out of the car. A young man around my age with messy hair emerged from the car, “Mom, don’t you want some lemonade?” he asked.

I stared at the boy. He had sunglasses on and a black polo shirt, he looked to be very irritated by something.

His mother turned around suddenly then saw me and gasped, “You’re always thinking about me, aren’t you Elliot.” Mrs. Barnette walked through the grass and towards my sister for lemonade.

“What was that about?” I asked Elliot.

Elliot stared at me, “what was what about?”

I shrugged, “nothing, I’m Holly.”

“I know,” Elliot said. He took off his dark sunglasses; one of his eyes was blue the other was brown.

The tension between us was awkward, “I’m going to go now, welcome to the neighbourhood Elliot.” I quickly ran to my sisters lemonade stand where Elliot’s family was enjoying lemonade.

“Isn’t this great All American Lemonade!?” Mr. Barnette said.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Elyse said, “but where are you all from?”

Mrs. Barnette chocked on her lemonade and looked wearily at her husband who chuckled and replied, “we’re from Canada.”

I looked at them dumbfounded, “where exactly in Canada?”

Mr. Barnette blinked twice and stared at his wife.

“We’re from Quebec we’re French Canadian, mon père can’t understand English that well.” Elliot suggested. I looked at Elliot suspiciously; there was something weird about his family that I couldn’t put my finger on. “May I have some lemonade?” Elliot asked.

But I knew for sure; they were definitely NOT from Canada.