Bradley Wallace Murphy just turned thirteen, and he's not happy about it. He doesn't fit in at school, he's no good at sports, a bully torments him, he's a disappointment to his parents, and his only "friends" are fictional characters on a TV show c...
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CHAPTER 19
Trust Your Heart
Mr. O'Conner smiled in amusement at Bradley Wallace's open-mouthed expression and then gestured for the boys to sit in the two chairs beside him.
"I've been expecting you, Bradley Wallace," the old man commented casually, flicking a curious glance toward John. "I suspected you'd be along, too," he added, frowning slightly. "Sit down, both of you."
Too shocked to reply, Bradley Wallace moved to the nearest chair and sat down, just barely aware that John eased into the chair at his side.
The door behind them snapped shut with a sharp click and the key turned in the lock. The numbness Bradley Wallace felt stemmed from the realization, now completely without doubt, that all his boyhood conceptions about the kindly old ice cream man had been profoundly incorrect. He suddenly realized that Mr. O'Conner knew the hooded man who'd tried to kill him and now he would share the truth, the truth about that man, about those pictures and about that hidden room. It was a truth, Bradley Wallace understood, that would change his life forever. And he was scared.
Mr. O'Conner regarded John carefully, almost disregarding him entirely. And his frown deepened. "It seems Whilly knew something both of you didn't."
"What was that?" John asked uncertainly, fidgeting under the old man's penetrating gaze.
"That you and Bradley Wallace needed each other's friendship more than each other's enmity."
John's eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. "How do you know who I am? I never seen you before."
"I think perhaps the time has come for explanations, eh, lad?" Mr. O'Conner sighed, turning his attention to Bradley Wallace. "And we don't have long before they return."
"You're not really plain old Mr. O'Conner the Good Humor Man, are you?" Bradley Wallace already knew that much for certain. "You're someone much more important."
The old man laughed heartily. "I don't know about the important part, but you're right about the rest. I haven't always been just an ice cream man, though I have enjoyed that profession. Go on, lad, ask your questions."
"Who are you really?" Bradley Wallace suddenly blurted out, the questions tumbling from his lips like rocks during a slide. "What am I? What's been happening to me? Why do you have those pictures of me in your secret room? And who was that guy who tried to kill me?"
The old man held up a hand to stop him, his wrinkled features creased with amusement. "Whoa, lad, slow down. One question at a time. I am what you kids would probably call a wizard, but I, myself, prefer the term 'sorcerer.' I'm basically an anachronism, left over from a long-ago time, a time when people trusted in magic, a time long since vanished." His voice took on a distinct note of sadness at the remembrance. "I can manipulate the laws of nature, and in some cases circumvent them, by what ordinary humans used to call magic. But essentially, this magic is simply the calling up of earth-power."
