Free The Magic Touch by Jody Lynn Nye

The boy’s eyebrows rose briefly in an expression of puzzlement as he wondered if he knew her, then drooped back over a sad frown.
    “This kid needs mucho ayuda ,” Ray said, feeling through his wand the misery pouring out of the house.
    “Well, we’ll see,” Rose said. She walked up the stairs and right through the closed door. One of her arms reappeared and beckoned to Ray to hurry. He trotted up the steps after her.
    O O O
    By the time they had introduced themselves, the boy Peter was already blurting out the story of the Little League game he had played just that day.
    “We were tied, see?” he said, looking from Ray to Rose and back again to Ray. While Rose seemed to him to be more sympathetic, as a man Ray seemed more likely to understand the mechanics of a close game. “I was out in the field, because …” He stopped, a little embarrassed.
    “Because everybody can’t be the pitcher,” Rose said. “I have grandchildren. Go on.”
    “Okay,” Peter said, resuming his fielding stance. “The bases were loaded. The other team is full of big kids. We all think they’re overage, but nobody listens to us,” Peter added with a grimace. “They’re winning, and that’s all anybody cares about.”
    “Not me,” Ray said emphatically. He’d never been terrific at sports either, so winning couldn’t be the reason he played. “Come on. So what happened?”
    “Anyhow, this big kid—he must have been your height! Maybe bigger!—marches out, and wham! The ball is coming out my way. I’m running and running. I had it right here!” He hammered his fist into his open hand. “It was right there, and then Rudy, Rudolfo, ran into me from right field. I couldn’t close my hand on the ball. I missed it. It hopped out of my glove and rolled away. We lost,” Peter said, staring at the middle distance between their feet. “And everybody blamed me.” He looked up at them. The whole thing lay so vividly in his mind Ray could almost watch the game in those clear green eyes. “I wish I could go back and catch that ball. I had it! It would’ve been a triple play! We’d have won the game.”
    Rose took a deep breath and let it out in a gusty sigh. “Time travel’s not on our beat, honey. I wish I could help every child who has had a disappointment, who has been shamed in front of his friends and family, but you know it was just an accident. Missing a catch isn’t life threatening. It won’t scar you forever.”
    “It does! We would have won if I caught that ball,” Peter insisted. He appealed to Ray. “We were tied! I could’ve caught them all out—a triple play. Please. We need that game to make it to the city series.”
    “It’s only July,” Ray pointed out.
    “Yeah, but we stink!” Peter said. “And I stink the worst.” Tears filled his eyes. “That’s what I’d wish for. Take me back and let me catch the ball.”
    “You know what’s wrong with regrets?” Rose asked, reaching out a forefinger to tip up the boy’s chin. “You can’t look back and forward at the same time. You have to let it go. All you can do is promise yourself to try harder next time.” Peter looked unconvinced. “Come on,” Rose said, slapping her thighs and getting to her feet. “I need an ice cream, and so do you.”
    She marched to the front door, wand held up like a majorette’s baton. Ray followed, but the boy hung back. They turned to wait for him. Peter stood in the middle of the sitting room rug with his hands hanging down by his sides, looking shamefaced.
    “I’m not supposed to go anywhere with strangers,” he said.
    “All right,” Rose said, with a motherly smile. “That’s a good rule. Then we won’t go together. There’s a carryout on the corner two blocks up. Meet us there.” She took another step toward the door.
    Peter giggled. “That’s dumb. Okay. I’ll come with you.” He walked over to join them.
    “Good,” Rose said. With a wink over the boy’s head to Ray, she took Peter’s