CATCHING UP

Chet and Shari ran into each other by accident. Having not seen each other in years, they would have normally exchanged pleasantries and gone on their separate ways, but as events would have it, they both had a some time to kill. A coffee shop was nearby. With nothing better to do, they decided to catch up.

Chet ordered a cider. Shari got a frappuccino and a bagel. They sat at a table in silence for a minute before he happened upon the most logical question.

“So, Shari, what have you been up to?”

“I’ve taken up painting. Watercolors,” she replied. “You?”

“I’ve really gotten into sorcery,” he said.

Shari blinked, as if the information had to drag itself across the small table before reaching her. Eventually, she nodded.

“I see.”

Chet shrugged. “I’m not very good at it yet, but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

She said, “Aren’t you worried? About your soul?”

“That’s demonology,” he said.

“Oh.” She leaned forward. “Then aren’t you worried about catching disease from all the corpses?”

“That’s necromancy.” Chet sighed. He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

“Well, glad to hear you’re not into that. No judgment.” Shari spread some schmear into her bagel. “Some judgment.”

He studied his cup for lack of something to look at. He wasn’t into necromancy, but it still felt like he’d done something wrong.

She bit into her bagel, wiped her mouth. “So can you make a bird or a rabbit yet? My niece can do that, though she’s in an advanced class. They don’t last long before disappearing but she’s just starting out.”

“Conjuration. Different thing.”

Shari said, “Okay, so what is sorcery then?”

“It’s complicated,” he said. “It’s more personal. It’s basically tapping into your own talents and awakening them. Magically.”

Shari nodded. “Ah, okay. So what are your talents then?”

He laughed. The question wasn’t unexpected, but was still a little embarrassed. “That’s the question. I haven’t figured that out yet.”

She smiled. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s got something they’re good at.”

He said, “It’s not a question of being just good. Like you said, everyone’s good at something. But it needs to be more than that if you’re going channel it into sorcery.”

Shari said, “I get it. It’s the difference between being good at street basketball versus being in the NBA.”

“Not exactly. It’s more . . . emotional. That’s what my teacher says anyway. Like he had a student who liked fire, who learned how to throw fireballs.”

“Sounds dangerous.” She sipped her drink. “Is liking fire a talent?”

“Apparently. So how is everything? Other than the watercolors?”

“Married, family, kids, career,” she said. “Very happy, having it all, blah, blah, blah. Who cares? I want to figure out this sorcery thing.”

He half-smiled. “Why?”

“Because I like you, Chet. You were always a good guy, and, until I see otherwise, I’ll assume still are. Plus, I love helping people achieve their dreams.”

“That’s a very specific hobby,” he said. “You might be able to channel it into sorcery.”

“We’re not talking about me. I’m doing all right, but this means something to you. So let’s figure it out. What are your hobbies?”

“I like juggling,” he said.

“Maybe we could work with that.”

He shook his head. “That’s dumb.”

“I remember you were pretty good.”

“I could only ever do three balls at a time. That’s pretty basic.”

Shari said, “Better than the average person, but I get it. Not enough. What about plants? I remember you studied a bit of horticulture in college.”

He said, “I do have a few in my apartment, and they’re not dead yet.”

“Better than me,” she said. “I killed a cactus.”

“They’re harder to keep alive than most people think,” he said.

“Kind of you to say.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. You’ve always been kind.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Just what a kind person would say. Can you do anything magical with that?”

“Kind-hearted sorcery?” he said. “What would that even be?”

“I don’t know. I’m not the one studying sorcery. So what can you do? Or is it just study at this point?”

“No, I can do something,” he said.

She perked up. “Are you going to show me?”

“It’s not very impressive.”

“You can’t tell me you’re practicing sorcery and not show me.”

He grab a handful of dirt from a nearby potted plant. He dropped the dirt in a small pile on the table. When the barista gave him a dirty look, he promised he’d clean it up. He waved his hands over the soil for a few seconds, but nothing happened.

“No incantation?” she asked, quietly, as not to disturb his concentration.

“Sorcery is more internal,” he replied, brow furrowed.

A succulent sprouted from the dirt. It looked as if it might die and wither away at any moment.

Chet leaned back in his chair, wiped some perspiration from his forehead.

Shari studied the sad little plant. “So you do have plant magic.”

He said. “My teacher says this is far as most people get.”

“What do they know?” She waved him off. “Don’t sell yourself short. This proves you have something to work with.”

“It’s okay.”

She almost touched the plant, but decided against it. That would probably kill the poor thing.

“You’re too humble,” she said. “That was always your problem, Chet. Always standing in your own way. It’s like that thing with Adanna Damijo.”

“What thing?”

“Oh, you know. The thing. How she always liked you, but you never had the nerve to ask her out.”

“Adanna liked me?”

“Come on. You have to have known that.”

Chet paused as thoughts rolled around in his head.

Shari chuckled, but smothered it when she noticed his sour expression. “Oh, Chet. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t know. How could you not have known?”

“She was so cool,” he mumbled. “So smart and pretty. Why would she like me?”

The plant grayed, wilting into its dirt.

“You were smart and cool and pretty, too,” said Shari. “You just never knew it. A lot of people had crushes on you.”

“Like who?”

“Well, like me. For a little while. Until I started dating that guy. Uh, that guy. I can’t even remember his name anymore.”

“Larry?”

“Yeah. Larry. What a loser. Can’t believe I ever dated him. Such a dumb kid. Some hair and good abs, and I’m lost. Glad I grew out of that. Anyway, for a little while, I had a thing for you, but Adanna asked me not to act on it. Then Larry came along . . .”

“You really did?” asked Chet.

“Yes, really.”

The succulent raised itself, getting a little color back.

“Don’t let it go to your head or anything,” she replied. “But if you’d had asked me out, I would’ve probably said yes. Adanna be damned. Happily married now, of course.”

“Of course.”

The plant drooped.

He said, “It just kind of sucks, y’know? Like realizing these things that could have been. Adanna. You. I spent so much of my college years feeling like an outsider.”

“It doesn’t kind of suck,” she replied. “It just sucks.”

The succulent sank deeper, threatening to return to the dirt from which it came.

“But, hey, your life’s not over,” said Shari. “Those possibilities in the past, they don’t really matter any more. We all miss out on things. Sometimes, we know. Sometimes, we don’t. But it’s all in the past. You’re still a cool guy, Chet. Hell, look at you doing sorcery.”

“Not very good sorcery,” he replied.

“We all start somewhere,” she said. “Who know where it goes from there?”

He nodded, finding some optimism under it all. “Yeah. Who knows?”

The tiny plant sprouted bright red berries and juggled them.

“That’s neat,” she said.

Before he could deny it, Shari silenced him with a finger.

“It’s a start,” she said.

Chet, despite himself, smiled.