The Boy Witch

Chapter 25

Felicity allowed Sam to use the phone, his Christmas present, once a week to talk to his parents. On the designated day, Sam would walk to Felicity’s office and ask her for the phone. He was usually a little nervous because Felicity could just say “no.” He still felt like an intruder to the witches and wondered if Felicity considered him with the same motherly love with which she treated her witch students. But it never happened. Felicity was understanding and compassionate, and always glad to lend Sam the phone.

That morning, Sam walked to Felicity’s office and knocked at the door quietly. There was no answer. He waited a moment, slipping his hands in his pockets. When he ran out of patience, he knocked again, a bit more decisively.

“Come in,” Felicity called.

Sam turned the door knob and entered the room, where Felicity sat at her desk, on which a laptop, the only computer in the mansion, rested. When Sam walked in, she closed the device’s lid, as if she was looking at something forbidden.

“Good morning, Sam,” Felicity wished him, paying full attention to him.

“Good morning,” Sam replied. He still felt a little out of place, like he was bothering her. “May I please use the phone to call my parents?”

“Of course.” Felicity pulled one of the drawers of her desk, and grabbed the phone from it, before handing it to Sam.

Sam walked closer to the desk so he could reach Felicity’s offering. “Thank you,” Sam let out.

He turned around to walk away, but Felicity stopped him. “Samuel?” She said, her voice filled with worry.

“Yes?” Sam turned around to listen.

“How are you doing here?” Felicity asked with a serious look on her face. “After several weeks. Are you happy among the witches?” She placed her hands in a tent above her desk, crossing her fingers, accentuating her gravity.

Sam was taken aback by the question and he started to ponder the answer, which was not obvious. He wondered if he had given Felicity reason to worry. “I’m fine,” he responded, almost too quickly. He drew in a sharp breath, preparing to temper his answer. “Well…” he said, “I miss my parents and my sister, but I’m glad I get to talk to them every week.”

Felicity forced a pained smile and nodded. “Do you miss your old life?”

“We moved all the time,” Sam explained. “So, whatever life I had, I was used to letting it go after a while, every time. This is just, like, another new life. All that’s missing is my family.”

“I just wanted to say…” Felicity started. “We’re glad to have you here.”

Sam was filled with a careful warmth. “I’m glad to be here, too.” He put on his best smile, to reassure Felicity. “I’m happy.”

“Wonderful,” Felicity said, her smile turning more genuine.

Sam was not sure how to conclude this odd conversation, and took a step back, still holding on to the smartphone, bowing his head to Felicity. Finally, he turned around and exited the office, releasing a sigh as he rested against the door. He wondered if his conclusion was completely truthful. But, looking down at the cellphone, he smiled. It was time to talk to his family.

***

Sam sat on his bed, in his small room, and called his family. He waited as the phone played its little tune, holding it up so it could capture a clear image of his face. Sam smiled to himself, catching a glimpse of the little picture of his face in the corner of the phone.

Suddenly, his father’s face appeared on the screen. When he saw his son, he smiled the brightest smile. “Hey, Sam,” James said. “How are you?”

“Hi, Dad,” Sam replied. “I’m not bad, how are you?”

“I’m so happy to talk to you.” James seemed to be getting emotional. Every time they talked, it was like it took even less time for James to tear up, and it was hard for Sam not to do the same. “I miss you terribly.”

“I miss you, too.”

“James, let us get in the shot,” Dorothy’s voice rang from behind her husband, a little annoyed.

“Hold on, hold on,” James said.

The image shook around for a moment, as James set up his phone to capture the whole family. Finally, the camera caught all three of them sitting on their sofa. Dorothy and Tabitha waved at Sam, and he waved back.

They talked for a while, about everyday life, about Tabitha’s school, about how much they missed each other. With every conversation, it seemed increasingly obvious that talking on the phone was just not enough, but every one of them tried to make do.

“Hey, Sam…” Dorothy started, after a moment of silence. “Is your friend Miles around?” It looked like it took a lot out of her to ask that question.

“I can go get him. Do you want to talk to him?” Sam replied.

Dorothy nodded, as she forced a smile.

“Okay, just give me a minute,” Sam said as he put down the phone, facing the ceiling. He stood up from his bed and walked out of the room.

Traveling through the corridors of the mansion, Sam wondered just what his family had to say to Miles. He was a little apprehensive because he figured his parents might be resentful. With every step, he thought this conversation might be a bad idea.

He found his way to Miles’ room and knocked at the door, but there was no answer. Sam cursed under his breath. Miles could be anywhere. Sam turned on his heel and made his way through the corridor and down the stairs. He could not believe how obscenely large the mansion was for the few people it contained.

Sam entered the living room and was glad to see Miles sitting there, his legs folded under his body sitting on one of the couches, reading a witchcraft book. He seemed quite peaceful, undisturbed by Sam’s steps. For a moment, Sam appreciated the quietness of Miles’ world.

The short boy was wearing some of the clothes the witches had gotten for him, a fluffy white shirt and narrow black pants, and kept his hair in a pony tail. The style was strikingly different from Miles’ old attires. Sam smiled to himself. Miles seemed happy and renewed among the witches.

“Hey,” Sam said, standing next to Miles’ couch.

Miles immediately turned his attention from his book, facing his friend. “Oh, hey,” he replied. “What’s up?”

“I’m talking to my parents on the phone right now.” Sam stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled where he stood for a moment. “They want to talk to you.”

“To me?” Miles asked, bewildered. “I… I wouldn’t want to take up your precious time with them.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam replied. “Come on.” He waved for Miles to follow.

Miles hesitated, before placing a bookmark in his book and leaving it on the couch. He stood and followed his friend back to his room. Miles was anxious and Sam could not help but be nervous, too.

Sam picked up the phone from his bed and turned it so the camera faced him. “I’m back,” he said.

“That took a while,” James chuckled.

“Well, this house is huge,” Sam joked back. “I did the best I could.”

Sam turned to his friend, and they exchanged pained smiles. Sam wrapped his arm around Miles’ shoulder, so they would both appear on the camera. “Here’s Miles,” Sam declared.

At first, only the top half of Miles’ face showed, and when Sam adjusted the camera, only the bottom half of Sam’s face showed. The height difference was too great.

“Hello, Miles,” Dorothy said.

“Hello,” Miles waved at them.

“It’s nice to see you,” James added. He seemed a little nervous, but not as much as Miles was. James exchanged looks with Dorothy, as if they had something to say. “We just…” James continued. “We just wanted to say thank you.” James’ voice cracked with emotion. Dorothy looked like she was about to cry, too. Tabitha was quiet.

“What for?” Miles asked with a meek voice. He did not want Dorothy and James’ gratitude, when he had taken away so much from them.

“For saving our son’s life,” Dorothy let out with an emotional sigh.

“I…” Miles tried to talk, but the words were stuck in his throat. “There’s no need for that… It was the least I could do.”

“Well, we still wanted you to know, how grateful we are,” James continued.

“But I… I took him away… It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Miles,” Sam intervened. “I made my decision.” Sam squeezed Miles’ arm silently. Miles tried to feel comforted, but his guilt was too great.

“If it weren’t for you,” Tabitha spoke up, her girlish voice resonating through the phone, “Sam wouldn’t be there at all.”

Sam looked down at his friend and tried to prod a smile from him, but Miles was inconsolable. There was a moment of silence where Sam, his family and Miles exchanged pained looks. Perhaps they were considering the alternative.

“How are the other students?” Sam asked. He had not yet asked for news about them, through his conversations with his parents. “The ones who got shot.” His tone was serious.

“Everybody is doing well,” Dorothy answered. “Thanks to Miles. The boys who got shot… they’re very grateful, too. Devon talked about how he regretted teasing you, Miles. If he had known.”

“Miles would deserve his respect even without his powers,” Sam explained, grudgingly. The memory of his friends from school brought back emotions in Sam.

“Of course,” Dorothy added.

“The shooter… Ethan…” Miles let out. “What about him?”

Sam scowled, remembering the table wedged in the wall.

“He’s… no longer with us,” Dorothy answered. She did not dare say that Miles had killed him. “He was the only victim,” she added. She meant that as a little victory.

But Miles was devastated. He barely remembered what took place, what he did after Ethan shot Sam, but he knew he had hurt Ethan.

“The whole town was very shaken with what happened,” Dorothy continued.

“The news is still trying to make sense of it,” James added. “The police are looking for you two. They don’t understand how you disappeared.”

“Have you told them anything?” Sam asked.

“No,” Dorothy answered. “If we were to tell them we are in contact with you, they will want to talk to you, or record our conversations. We feel a little bad for keeping this from them, but this is probably for the best.”

“I’m sorry so many people are concerned with us,” Miles spoke, with more guilt in his voice. “I didn’t think people would be so bothered with us.”

“Well, you disappeared after resuscitating the victims of a school shooting,” James almost laughed. “Of course, authorities would want to find you.”

Dorothy shot her husband a look, and he regained a serious demeanor. She changed the topic. “Maybe not today,” she said, hesitating, “but could we, some time, talk to the person in charge?”

“Felicity?” Sam asked. “I suppose. What do you want to talk to her about?”

“Well,” James answered, exchanging a glance with Dorothy, “we would like, if possible, to come visit.”

“We understand that might not be possible,” Dorothy explained, “but we figured we would ask.”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “Maybe not now. Maybe in the future.” Sam tried to be hopeful, remembering that Felicity said it would happen some day. “I’ll ask Felicity if she wants to talk to you.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

The five of them exchanged more pleasantries, but conversation was strained, heart-broken. The distance was devastating, and Miles still felt terribly guilty for keeping Sam away from his family. When they said goodbye, Dorothy had a hard time holding back her tears, and forced an unconvincing smile.

Sam hung up the phone, and stepped away from his friend, turning towards him. “Thanks for talking to them,” he said. He could tell his friend was tremendously hurt, and he wanted to make him feel better. Silently, Sam slipped his arms around Miles, resting his head on his shoulder, and hugged him for a moment.

Miles was taken aback by the hug, but after a moment of surprise, he leaned in.