Read Online Quiet Magic by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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But her face
was serene, her eyes as competent as though she stood in a tailored
suit, briefcase in hand.
Her handshake was firm and brief. "Mr.
Davis," she said, and her voice like a fall of cool
water.
He half-turned and gestured. "Please
come in," he managed and followed her into his office, closing the
door behind him. She had already seated herself in the wooden chair
to one side of the desk. He took his seat behind it and glanced at
the notepad and file on the blotter before he looked at his
visitor.
"Thank you for coming so promptly. I
was a bit taken aback when Jeffrey's uncle said someone could be
with me in twenty minutes. So many parents today are unable to
arrange appointments for days, even weeks..."
She dismissed this with the flick of a
ringless hand. "Uncle Tulaine tells me that Jeffrey has not eaten
lunch, that he is denied his candle." It was a demand for an
explanation.
Rob sighed. "Fire is dangerous.
Children in this school are forbidden to play with fire." He held
up his own hand, anticipating her.
"Jeffrey has explained that there is a
family ritual that requires a candle to accompany every meal of
every family member, everywhere. His uncle Tulaine has called my
attention to the fact that Jeffrey is a rather extraordinary little
boy. The regulations of this school, however, are only valid when
they remain equal for all the children attending the school." He
glanced down, surprised and a little ashamed of his own vehemence,
then glanced back, startled.
She was laughing, softly and
unmaliciously, inviting him to join in. "Poor Mr. Davis," she said.
"First Jeffrey in one of his icy rages, then Uncle Tulaine..." She
shook her head. "And now a maiden aunt who is much younger than she
ought to be, all spattered with paint and laughing at you." Again,
that rueful headshake. "Forgive us, Mr. Davis, we're an odd
family."
He grinned. "I noticed Uncle Tulaine
asked if there was a way to get around the rule--" he sounded
aggrieved in his own ears.
She had the grace not to laugh this
time. "But he's like that, you know; an--elitist. Ritual by common
consent is one thing, arbitrary rules that cross the ritual he has
accepted are quite something else." She tipped her head. "Should I
apologize for Uncle Tulaine?"
Rob shrugged, laughing a little
himself. "It would insult him, wouldn't it? And I'm afraid my
sympathies lie as firmly with Jeffrey as his uncle's
do."
"Which brings us back to the reason
I'm here." She nodded. "The rules are the rules, as you say, no
matter where your sympathies may lie. And to get along in the
outside world, one must acknowledge at least a few of the rules..."
She frowned; it put a slight crease between her brows, winged like
Jeffrey's.
"Jeffrey is an extraordinary small
boy." She shared an eyeblink with him. "As we all have noticed.
Unfortunately, he is a little boy in many ways still. The rules of
his family must seem to him to be the strongest--the best--to him.
And I'm sure that none of us--from great Aunt Phyllis down--would
eat a meal without a candle, except with extreme unease." She
sighed and shook her head. "It has no easy solution, Mr.
Davis."
"Could Jeffrey be brought to
understand that his lunch can be graced with a candle only on days
when he's not at school?" He said it diffidently, hating the
necessity that made him offer it as a solution.
"I suppose that he could," she said
slowly, "But I would not want to be the one to teach him. Nor would
you find much help from Uncle Tulaine, or from Jeffrey's father.
Nor, for that matter, from his mother."
She leaned forward, tipping her palms
upward in a showing gesture.
"Mr. Davis, our candles are not second
nature to us, but first nature. I can't say how long it has been
so, but the family dates back centuries, and there is always a
candle burning in the house when someone is home. There are candles
for talking, candles when we play music, when we have guests, for
weddings, for funerals--and for lunch."
She flipped her
was serene, her eyes as competent as though she stood in a tailored
suit, briefcase in hand.
Her handshake was firm and brief. "Mr.
Davis," she said, and her voice like a fall of cool
water.
He half-turned and gestured. "Please
come in," he managed and followed her into his office, closing the
door behind him. She had already seated herself in the wooden chair
to one side of the desk. He took his seat behind it and glanced at
the notepad and file on the blotter before he looked at his
visitor.
"Thank you for coming so promptly. I
was a bit taken aback when Jeffrey's uncle said someone could be
with me in twenty minutes. So many parents today are unable to
arrange appointments for days, even weeks..."
She dismissed this with the flick of a
ringless hand. "Uncle Tulaine tells me that Jeffrey has not eaten
lunch, that he is denied his candle." It was a demand for an
explanation.
Rob sighed. "Fire is dangerous.
Children in this school are forbidden to play with fire." He held
up his own hand, anticipating her.
"Jeffrey has explained that there is a
family ritual that requires a candle to accompany every meal of
every family member, everywhere. His uncle Tulaine has called my
attention to the fact that Jeffrey is a rather extraordinary little
boy. The regulations of this school, however, are only valid when
they remain equal for all the children attending the school." He
glanced down, surprised and a little ashamed of his own vehemence,
then glanced back, startled.
She was laughing, softly and
unmaliciously, inviting him to join in. "Poor Mr. Davis," she said.
"First Jeffrey in one of his icy rages, then Uncle Tulaine..." She
shook her head. "And now a maiden aunt who is much younger than she
ought to be, all spattered with paint and laughing at you." Again,
that rueful headshake. "Forgive us, Mr. Davis, we're an odd
family."
He grinned. "I noticed Uncle Tulaine
asked if there was a way to get around the rule--" he sounded
aggrieved in his own ears.
She had the grace not to laugh this
time. "But he's like that, you know; an--elitist. Ritual by common
consent is one thing, arbitrary rules that cross the ritual he has
accepted are quite something else." She tipped her head. "Should I
apologize for Uncle Tulaine?"
Rob shrugged, laughing a little
himself. "It would insult him, wouldn't it? And I'm afraid my
sympathies lie as firmly with Jeffrey as his uncle's
do."
"Which brings us back to the reason
I'm here." She nodded. "The rules are the rules, as you say, no
matter where your sympathies may lie. And to get along in the
outside world, one must acknowledge at least a few of the rules..."
She frowned; it put a slight crease between her brows, winged like
Jeffrey's.
"Jeffrey is an extraordinary small
boy." She shared an eyeblink with him. "As we all have noticed.
Unfortunately, he is a little boy in many ways still. The rules of
his family must seem to him to be the strongest--the best--to him.
And I'm sure that none of us--from great Aunt Phyllis down--would
eat a meal without a candle, except with extreme unease." She
sighed and shook her head. "It has no easy solution, Mr.
Davis."
"Could Jeffrey be brought to
understand that his lunch can be graced with a candle only on days
when he's not at school?" He said it diffidently, hating the
necessity that made him offer it as a solution.
"I suppose that he could," she said
slowly, "But I would not want to be the one to teach him. Nor would
you find much help from Uncle Tulaine, or from Jeffrey's father.
Nor, for that matter, from his mother."
She leaned forward, tipping her palms
upward in a showing gesture.
"Mr. Davis, our candles are not second
nature to us, but first nature. I can't say how long it has been
so, but the family dates back centuries, and there is always a
candle burning in the house when someone is home. There are candles
for talking, candles when we play music, when we have guests, for
weddings, for funerals--and for lunch."
She flipped her
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