“Don’t hurt him! Please don’t!” Theodore began to cry again, and he ran over and tugged on Hank’s shirtsleeve.
“Stand back, kid.”
“Muddy won’t hurt me. He’s a genie. He gave me wishes.”
“Don’t be stupid. There’s no such thing as a genie, kid.”
“Hank.” Smitty said his name in a warning tone. He looked up at her. She frowned at him and gave Theodore a pointed look.
“Well, hell, thereisno such thing, Smitty. You know it, and I know it. He might as well know it.”
Lydia looked up and spoke for the first time. “But then how did that hula thing get off his head?”
“Tricks, sleight of hand, mirrors,” Hank said.
“It’s not a trick! I wished it. I used one of my three wishes.”
“Thank you, Master Theodore. That was very generous.”
Hank watched the exchange, listening, but still trying to figure out where the chump had hidden the hookah.
“If you’ll remove your knife from my neck, I’ll prove that I am what I claim. A genie.”
Hank’s laugh was bitter. “Right.”
“Skepticism is as old as sand.” The chump sighed as if this were a tired argument. “I’ve had two thousand years of proving who I am to skeptics.”
“Just remember, one move that threatens any one of us”—Hank held the knife in front of the guy’s face and smiled without humor—“and I’ll be your last skeptic.”
Hank slowly backed away. He grabbed Theodore’s hand and pulled him back to the rock where Smitty still sat, silently and appearing thoughtful. She held the baby in her lap, and Lydia sat next to her. Hank watched for just an instant.
“Holy cow! Look!” Theodore began to jump up and down. “Look at Muddy!”
Hank whipped back around, the knife raised, and stared at the empty spot where the crackpot had been standing.
He quickly scanned the nearby bushes, thinking the guy had gotten away. Then he heard Smitty and Lydia gasp together.
“I’m up here.”
Hank looked up and swore.
“Sit!” Annabelle mimicked.
He didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He just stared up at the sky.
The crackpot was flying.
15
“This is not happening,” Hank said.
Margaret watched Hank continue to deny what they were seeing.
“It is not there.” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I see it! It’s magic!” Lydia said. “He is a genie!”
Hank opened his eyes, looked at Lydia, and frowned. His gaze shot to Margaret. He was still frowning. “Do you see it?”
