Free Strange Magic by Gord Rollo

in the narrow paved driveway near the crest of Derby Hill, at about the same time the Stranger was showing old Mrs. Pruit his version of a good card trick.
    Like a flash, Kemp was out of the car, unlocking the front door, and dashing upstairs for a quick shower. After a long night in the holding cell, the hot, steamy water did wonders for his aching, tired body. On another day, he might have lingered in its warm, wet embrace, but not today. Today he couldn’t afford such luxury; he was in too much of a hurry. His excitement swelled at the thought of spending some much needed quality time with his daughter. He had scrubbed clean, toweled off, shaved, changed clothes (he still had a closetful here), and was ready to go by eleven fifteen.
    “I’m all set, Susan,” he yelled excitedly. “Let’s go pick up our little pride and joy.”
    Susan poked her head out of the kitchen doorway and made a time-out signal with her hands. “Easy, big guy, slow down. You’ve been running around like someone set your feet on fire. Come have some lunch.”
    “Lunch? Couldn’t we go pick up Amanda first, then eat something together?”
    “No we can’t. I called over to Mrs. Henderson’s while you were in the shower. Amanda’s not there right now. Edith had some housework to get finished and her husband, Earl, volunteered to take Amanda off her hands for a while. They went uptown to Harvey’s for lunch and won’t be back for about an hour.”
    “We could still have lunch together,” Wilson reasoned. “I like Harvey’s too. We could go uptown and meet them over there.”
    “No way. The Hendersons just started babysitting Amanda. No way we’re gonna barge into that restaurant. Earl’s trying to do something really nice and if we go charging in there, he’ll think we don’t trust them. Good sitters are hard to find, Wilson, so just forget it. I told Edith we’d be round at twelve thirty and not a minute sooner. Understand? You’ll just have to endure the next hour with little old me. Who knows, you might even enjoy it.”
    And Kemp did enjoy it, every minute. It was comforting to see how easily they could fall back into familiar routines. He had helped out in the kitchen, whipping up a simple lunch of vegetable soup and ham sandwiches and big frosty mugs of ice-cold milk.
    They’d laughed and giggled throughout the entire meal, each recalling happy memories of better times they’d once shared. Time passed quickly, almost too quickly, and soon it was time to go pick up their daughter. Together, they cleaned up the dishes and were on their way.
    Edith and Earl Henderson lived nearby in a modest but immaculately well-kept stucco house on Milberry Lane. It took only minutes to make the short trip. Earl and Amanda must have just arrived themselves andwere walking up the front steps when Susan pulled the silver Honda into the gravel driveway.
    Wilson happily watched his seven-year-old daughter turn and throw her arms in the air when she recognized the car, squealing with delight as she raced across the grass to greet them.
    She was a small child for her age. In almost every way she was the miniature image of her mother. Her brown hair was long and curly, stylishly pulled back with two pink butterfly berets that perfectly matched her frilly dress. Her eyes, even more striking than her mother’s, were like twin electromagnets, drawing attention wherever she went. She was quite literally perfect, so beautiful he sometimes had a hard time believing she was related, much less his own flesh-and-blood daughter. She was the kind of girl destined to break many a young man’s heart, and already capable of breaking his each and every time Wilson was forced to say good-bye.
    “Daddy!” she shouted, leaping into his arms.
    They laughed and hugged and smothered each other with kisses, neither feeling the need to say anything. For now, it was enough to hold each other close and enjoy the moment. Wilson was so happy. Tears of joy trickled