Practical Mage

Amelia sat quietly at her desk, her concentration broken from time to time as she looked up from her screen to take in the golden evening view outside her window. Each glance served as a reminder of a giant world filled with possibilities beyond her busy routine.

Her thoughts began to float to the night before. How could she have expected Gretchen's coven to accept her? She was, after all, nothing more than a "No Maj."

Yet, she'd felt magic before. She'd seen it work in her own life. She knew it was real. But knowing wasn't enough. You have to be able to wield power, not just think about it.

The loud yet muffled roar of a vacuum cleaner in the office next door startled her from her reverie. She quickly glanced down at her watch. It's late.

She yawned and stretched, raising her hands above her head and reaching her fingertips to the ceiling. She then folded her arms on her desk and looked at her now black screen.

If I'm not going to work, I might as well go home.

She reached down on the floor and pulled up her leather satchel that had rested by her feet most of the day. While packing up, she remembered her plastic storage bowl in the kitchen. Without a second thought, she whizzed her way toward the breakroom.

"You still here, Miss?" The voice came from the office next to hers.

Amelia stopped, twirled, and walked over to the open door.

"Yes," she said. "I'm still here." With folded arms, she leaned into the door jam.

"I had a bit of work to do. I'm writing a piece on a guy who gave up a six-figure job in corporate America to start a farm with his family in Iowa. Go figure, right?" She said, chuckling.

"Yes, I'd say that's pretty interesting," the woman said, wiping the desk down with a soft cloth.

"I'm Amelia, by the way," she said, outstretching her arm toward her.

The middle-aged woman reached back and shook Amelia's hand.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, Amelia. I'm Charlotte," she said.

Amelia scanned the woman's appearance. She had a satiny-smooth complexion that looked like she'd never had a pimple. Her soft-looking brown hair had touches of gray in the front. Her company-labeled polo shirt and khaki pants looked clean and pressed. Amelia's eyes rested on her pristine white sneakers, which didn't look like she'd ever done even an hour's work in them.

"I don't think I've seen you around here. How long have you worked for the cleaning company?"

"Oh, I own the company," she answered. "My business has had this contract with the magazine for roughly a decade. But it's been a few years since I've cleaned this office."

Amelia nodded. "Oh, that makes sense; I've only been here for four years."

"I don't usually clean much anymore, but we had a fiasco today. Three of our workers are down with the flu. So, I'm here," the woman said. She bent over and slid the dusting cloth back into her supply organizer on the floor. When she stood up, she smiled broadly and shook a pointed finger at Amelia.

"Wait a minute, you're Amelia Carpenter, right?" she said.

"Yes, Ma'am, the one and only," Amelia replied.

"I knew I recognized the name. I've read your stuff; it's good. Actually, you are one of my favorite writers here."

Amelia took a deep breath and exhaled. "Thank you.

Charlotte reared back, squinting at her. "You look like you're not happy about that."

Amelia folded her arms again and slowly bobbed her head from side to side. "It's not that I'm unhappy about being a good writer. I used to think that all I ever wanted was to work for a big, well-known magazine like this one, where I would work my way up to becoming an established writer with my own office. I accomplished that. But I can't help asking myself, 'now what?'"

"Hmmm," Charlotte responded. "That's a good question."

Charlotte walked over to the blinds and looked out of the window.

"That sunset is incredible, isn't it?" she said.

"Yeah, it is."

The yellow glow, now joined by purples and pinks.

"Hey, will you run downstairs with me? I want to catch that hotdog vendor before he skedaddles," Charlotte said, pointing to the vendor on the sidewalk below. "I'll buy one of my favorite writers a dog, too."

Amelia looked down at her watch. "Ok. You know what, that sounds really good. And now, I don't have to scrounge up my dinner tonight."

Amelia returned to her office, gathered her things, and met Charlotte at the elevator doors.

When the doors opened, Charlotte looked at Amelia and smiled.

"It's not every day that someone like me gets to have dinner with a famous writer," Charlotte said, stepping into the elevator.

Stepping on behind her, Amelia's lips curved into a smile, and she laughed nervously.

"Oh, I'm not famous," she said. "And, what do you mean, someone like you? You're a businesswoman. I'm honored to be having dinner with you."  

"Yeah, true," Charlotte chuckled.

On the trip down from the 9th floor, both women smiled at each other a few times but remained quiet.

The bell dinged, the cart wiggled a little before the doors opened, and the two stepped onto the main floor.

"I have to admit, Charlotte, I hate elevators," Amelia said.

"I'm not too fond of them either. In fact, I always wonder what I would do if I ever got stuck in one," Charlotte said.

Both women laughed and made small talk as they walked to the building's front doors. Amelia opened and held the door so Charlotte could walk out first.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Charlotte said with a smile.

"But of course, since dinner's on you, the least I can do is hold the door," Amelia quipped.

The hot dog vendor smiled as they walked up to his cart.

"What can I get you, lovely ladies, tonight?" he asked.

"Well, I've heard your dogs are amazing, so I'll take one with mustard, ketchup, onions, and slaw," Charlotte said.

"Wow, that sounds delicious," Amelia said. "I'll have the same."

He handed Charlotte her hot dog first, and she wasted no time taking a bite.

"mmm, mmm, mmmmmm, that's beyond yummy! You, Sir, have the gift of making an incredible hot dog!" Charlotte said. "Amelia, just wait until you taste this. It's divine."

"Thank you, Ma'am," the vendor said. "I aim to please."

He handed Amelia her hot dog, and just as she was about to take a bite, a breeze blew, and napkins from the cart began blowing away.

"No worries. I've got them," Charlotte said, handing her hot dog to Amelia; she chased after them.

"Ma'am, it's not a problem. I have more napkins. You don't need those," the vendor said.

But Charlotte kept reaching for them and headed into the street.

Amelia looked up and noticed a bus heading right for Charlotte.

"Hey! Hey! A bus is coming!" She yelled.

However, Charlotte continued in her pursuit and walked right into the street. She turned around just in time to see Amelia drop the hot dogs and scream. Staring into Amelia's eyes, Charlotte's smiled.

Amelia screamed, raised her hands, and closed her eyes tightly.

The bus sped by, but Charlotte was now on the sidewalk beside Amelia in front of the hot dog stand.

The vendor scurried from behind the booth and ran over to the women.

"Oh my God, I just knew you had been hit! I saw it! I just knew you were hit. Ma'am, I'm so glad you're ok," he said.

Amelia stood silent with her hand over her mouth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Charlotte said.

Charlotte turned to Amelia.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she chuckled.

Amelia pulled Charlotte by her arm and walked her back to the building's door, away from the vendor.

"I don't understand what happened. You were in front of that bus; you were a goner," she whispered.

Charlotte grabbed Amelia by the arms and stared into her eyes.

"You don't know what happened?"

Looking around, Amelia nervously shook her head.

"I just don't understand how you're standing here with me."

Charlotte smiled at her.

"You, my dear, are a Practical Mage."

"What?" Amelia said.

"Your magic comes out when you need it. You saved me, and I knew you would," Charlotte said.

Amelia stared blankly at Charlotte.

"Anyway, I have to go," Charlotte said. "I have a phone call to make."

She turned and began walking away before stopping suddenly and looking back at Amelia.

"By the way, you should get a new hot dog," she winked. "They really are divine."