Potter's Field

Chapter Eight/Part Three: Testing Theories

Mars watched the screen for a couple more seconds, ignoring Harley’s question.  Some moments passed as Harley waited patiently.  He knew Mars had heard him.  Finally, a commercial jingle started up at which point Mars stood.  “First, I’d like to test something, if that’s all right with you.”  Without waiting for consent, Mars strode up to Harley and grasped him by the forearm.  Harley, getting used to the enigma that was Mars, sat as still as possible, wondering if Mars was trying to magic him again. 

Mars stood silent for a few seconds before suddenly pointing at Silver, whose head immediately sprouted flowering ivy instead of hair.  It was an eruption of color that startled Harley, enough so that he let out a small gasp, something he hadn’t done since he was almost hit by a bus two months ago.  The ivy had sprouted out from her head, taking the place of her blonde hair, except for that braided silver bang.  It remained unchanged, still tucked behind her ear.

Silver rolled her eyes at Mars, said something indistinguishable and waved her hand toward her head, causing her hair to return to normal, though it now had a slight green tinge.    

Harley, fascinated by this display, turned back to Mars just in time to see him close his pocket watch.  He glanced up at Harley, a pleased smile on his face.  Having never seen such an expression on Mars’ face before, Harley couldn’t help smiling back.  When Mars smiled like that, he looked like normal eleven-year-old boy who just got a piece of candy from his favorite uncle. 

“Was it what you were expecting?”  Harley asked.

“With you, Harley, it’s never what I’m expecting.  But I was expecting that,” Mars replied, his grip still firm on Harley’s arm.  A couple of seconds later, still holding onto Harley’s arm, Mars once again pointed at Silver. 

Turning toward Silver and watching intently, Harley would have jittered with anticipation if he knew how to jitter.  Despite his best efforts, he felt a little excited.  Magic was enthralling.  The more he saw, the more he wanted to see.  There was something quite addicting about it.  No wonder magicians seemed inclined to use magic for even the simplest things such as washing dishes or nose hair trimming.  Quite fascinating.    

Some moments passed, Mars still pointing dramatically at Silver.  Harley watched in vain for some change to appear.  Even a simple pimple to pop up on Silver’s face, yet as Mars continued to point at her, his face screwed up in concentration, nothing happened.  Was he changing something about her that wasn’t visible?  Perhaps her intestines had become sausage links?  But wouldn’t that be painful?  Silver would show some sign of this change on her face, right?  Though she did seem surprisingly calm and stoic, probably not the type to overreact no matter what happened to her.  She had quite calmly dispatched Beatle just moments before.  He got the feeling, though, that Mars was experienced at pushing her buttons.     

Harley looked at Silver, questions written on his face, but Silver shrugged, apparently as mystified by Mars’ behavior as Harley was.

Mars finally lowered his hand and pulled out his pocket watch, flipping open the cover.  He seemed pleased with what he saw if the huge grin that sprouted across his face was any indication.  He let go of Harley’s wrist and patted him on the back.  “I knew the moment I saw you that you were an interesting fellow.” 

Harley still felt a twinge of surprise at this statement, though Mars had said something similar before.  “Thank you, sir,” he said. 

Silver stood up, too, bored by the television and came up beside Mars.  “So what is he?  Magicless or anti-magic or whatever you called it...not-magic?”

Harley had no idea what they were talking about but was curious about under which he would be categorized.

Mars grinned at Silver, looking extremely pleased.  She leaned away from him, also seemingly taken aback by his smile.  “I would say it’s not-magic.  And thank goodness, too, because I don’t know how things might have fared had he been magicless.”

“Not magic?” Harley asked.  “Do you mean I don’t have magic like you?  Because I already knew that.”

Mars turned back to Harley.  “You aren’t like me, but you definitely do have magic, or not-magic.”

Harley felt very confused.  He had magic?  But it was not magic?  Wasn’t that an oxymoron? 

“You’re thinking it’s an oxymoron, aren’t you?”  Silver said, and Harley wondered briefly if magic permitted you to read minds, too.  “It’s because the name you gave it is confusing,” Silver snickered at Mars.

“It’s a perfectly fine name,” Mars replied defensively.  He sat back on the couch, getting comfortable before facing Harley again.  “Let me explain.  I’ll try to use small words so everyone present can understand.”  He stared pointedly at Silver who glared but said nothing.  “Basically, Harley, you are the opposite of magic, the negative to my positive.  So when we come in contact, we negate each other out.  Or, more accurately, you negate my magic.”

Harley thought for a second.  “So I have the opposite of magic?  The negative side of the magnet to your positive?  Then wouldn’t ‘negative magic’ be a more accurate name.” 

Silver nodded in agreement, but Mars waved him aside.  “Not-magic sounds more... current, modern, hip, whatever.”

“So what were you doing before, when you grabbed my arm?”  Harley felt surprised at his own curiosity, at the questions bubbling to life in his head.  He’d never been a very curious person, assuming that if he needed to know something, he’d eventually find it out, or someone would give it to him.  So far, that had worked for him very well.  Then again, he’d never encountered such interesting information, especially about himself.  Not-magic, huh.

“I am a genius,” Mars executed an overly flourished bow, which somehow seemed perfectly elegant though he was still sitting.  “What I was doing before was proving my theory.”

  “The one about not-magic?”  Silver asked, scratching her head absently.  She tugged on a strand of hair, dislodging it from one of her bobby pins and, noticing that it still had a green tinge from Mars’ spell before, scowled and pulled a small container out of one of her pockets.  She proceeded to rub its contents throughout her hair, which removed the greenish tinge completely.

“I was pretty sure about that one.”  Mars waved his hand dismissively.  “After all, being magicless is impossible, right?  I didn’t want to completely rule it out, but it was more of an impossibility than not-magic.  What I was testing is how the not-magic affects magic, my magic in particular.”  Mars turned to Harley, positively beaming. 

“And how does it affect your magic?”  Harley asked, looking around for a pen and a piece of paper.  Perhaps he should file a report on this, too.  Both Beatle and Supervisor Cannel would probably want to be notified.  Did they know he had not-magic?  Since Mars had apparently made up the term, did anyone really know about not-magic? 

Mars blinked and stopped smiling, looking thoughtfully at the pen Harley had managed to scavenge from the desk.  He leaned back slowly and folded his hands, a blank expression carefully displayed on his face.  “I certainly got carried away in the moment.  Nothing is absolute at the moment, so I’ll leave it there.  It’s getting late, and we need to book a flight.”