Join the Dance

iii. A Chance Meeting

"Just chance brought me then, if chance you call it. It was no plan of mine, though I was waiting for you."

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

23 December, 1899

This week was going to be one of the busiest Rafe had ever seen in the magical community of New York.

First of all, there was Christmas. In the past weeks the city had primed itself for the explosion of cheer that it would undergo, through decorations, trees, the singing of carols and the hope of snowfall - which hadn't yet come. Then soon after Christmas would be New Year. And if that wasn't enough, a brand new spark of excitement had come this morning: the confirmation that the entire Magical world across the globe would be separating itself from the non-magical at midnight on the 1st of January.

Rafe piled scrambled eggs onto his plate and stared at the stone wall.

The stove in the basement kitchen was burning a pleasant orange flame in the morning chill. There were some kids huddled around there, and some at their haphazard tables and benches. They ate their breakfast amidst laughter and the occasional Christmas carol that would rise up out-of-tune.

Rafe, however, was brooding again. He was thinking about how of course it was only two days before Christmas that they would announce the separation. They had been talking about it for months, but they just had to choose the busiest time of year. So of course he only had one week before he would have to teach the kids to keep their talents hidden in public. Of course they were now actually doing it, after such a long time that he had begun to assume it was all just a pipe dream. Of course.

He could feel the lump in his throat arising.

"Want some bread, Rafe?" asked Goldie, holding a tray of the fried slices in front of him.

She was a short girl of thirteen who usually led the kitchen work. She had coiled black hair, big kind eyes and always wore a dizzying smile that made sure everyone complimented her cooking without fail.

"Yes, thanks," said Rafe nonchalantly, but she had already dumped some onto his plate with little ceremony. "Got your Christmas food ready?" he asked her.

"Well, we'll have stuffed chicken and pudding at this rate, and I might be able to get some turkey if we have the money, and Tommy got those gingerbread cookies from the market yesterday." Goldie's excitement was clear in her bright tone. "Had to stop him and Jake and Beetles from stealin' 'em too soon."

"That'll be right." Rafe laughed with her, though laughing was small relief. "Sounds like a lotta work," he frowned at the girl.

Goldie simply smiled and continued to move along the tables, handing out bread as if unfazed.

"Then there's New Year," she said over her shoulder. "Scruggs said he'd do fireworks!"

"Will he just?" said Rafe sceptically.

From the table opposite Rafe, Tommy added, "He will! He told me so!" He was a twelve-year -old who was self-appointed as an interpreter of Scruggs' incoherent language. "But... he said he ain't gonna do a goblin this time."

Rafe shook his head. "You were all too scared."

The last exciting event that the children liked to call a 'party' - that was, a dinner involving Scruggs' magical trick afterwards - had been for Rafe's sixteenth birthday, and it had been such a non-event that the kids still hadn't stopped talking about it after nearly three months.