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Order this writing in the issue book Across the Wall the cc&d May-Aug. 2018 issues & chapbooks collection book		get the 372 page May-Aug. 2018 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN#035; paperback book:

Stupefied!

Arpit Rohilla

    Low-contrast sunlight washed on the park. Long shadows hovered over it like dragons.
    Ryan Dawson stared at the slides.
    19 years ago, every day, he would stand on top of a slide. His sister would stand 2 feet from the end. He would chant – and he would claim it was in Japanese.
    “Super Saiyan!” Dawson would shout. He would imagine his energy level increasing. He would lie and slide down.
    At the end he would hold his hands as if he held a dangerous energy ball in between, and he would clench his fingers. He would shoot the ball at her with a brief shout.
    “I don’t want to play this,” she would say.
    Right now, Dawson fiddled with his hands in the shape of an energy ball. He gaped.
    Two little girls beside him talked about how the red crayon is better than the blue one. And how the white is the worst. The one with the blonde hair had a white headband on.
    Dawson’s sister had a favourite white headband. One day, Dawson had stolen and tossed it behind a bush in the park. She had asked about it. He wouldn’t speak. She told mom. She always told mom.
    Dawson bit his lip.
    “A white crayon shouldn’t even be there!”
    “Hey,” Dawson said. He turned towards the girls. “Wanna watch something?”
    “What?”
    Dawson reached out and pulled a coin from behind the blonde girl’s ear. He drummed the air with the other hand.
    “Wow!”
    When he couldn’t find his sister’s headband that day, and she had been sulking, he had come to her with a coin behind his back. “Here. I have something else for you.”
    She had ignored him.
    He had reached out and almost lost grip of the coin. He had managed to keep it hidden. Then, he had pulled the coin from behind her ear.
    “No way!” She had said.
    Dawson had grinned.
    “Keep this,” he had said.
    Right now, Dawson handed the coin to little girl. “Keep this.”
    She rolled the coin and held it tight. “How did you do it?” She shoved it in her pocket. She was so small.
    “Magicians don’t tell. Hey, what’s your name?”
    “Amanda” she said.
    “And what’s your name?” He asked the girl with the plastic flower.
    She blushed and didn’t speak.
    “And can you do something more?” Amanda said.
    “Yes. Okay. Step back.”
    They hopped off the bench.
    Dawson stood up. He brushed his faded jeans and turned 180 degrees to show his back. He walked away three steps. Now, he could see the dry, old fountain.
    “I want teleportation, or invisibility as my superpower,” Ishaan, his best friend, had said when the fountain had used to run.
    Dawson always liked the cold spray. “I would like to fly.” He had said. “Invisibility is good. But I would fly.”
    “That would be sweet.”
    Right now, Dawson lifted his feet 3 inches from the ground. He hovered. His shadow remained. He spread his arms. He floated, 3 inches clear, in circles and in trapeziums.
    He heard laughter and giggles and a slight scream.
    He lowered himself down. He turned, smiled, and bowed.
    “Wow!”
    The girls ran back to him. Sunshine smiles on a warm evening lit his heart.
    He grinned and forgot the slides altogether.
    Amanda looked sideways. “There he comes,” she said. “My brother.”
    A kid, around 15, lean and lanky, walked towards them. He wore a t-shirt with a skull print.
    “Your brother?” Dawson said.
    “That is my brother, yes,” she said, without looking at Dawson. “Hey, Sammy, you must see this. He is a magician!”
    Sammy nodded.
    Dawson smiled. “Hello.”
    “Are you a magician?”
    Dawson waved at Amanda. “So, where is your coin?”
    She looked at the sky as she fished in her pocket. She shook her head. She showed an empty palm. Her brows tensed.
    “Don’t keep losing this.” Dawson said with raised eyebrows. He put forward the coin.
    She laughed and nodded.
    “I know this. I read it on Facebook. It’s not magic.” Sammy said.
    Dawson nodded. He smiled, pulled out a marble, and said, “Watch.”
    Amanda blinked a lot, like Dawson’s sister used to when she would watch mom work on home-made ice cream.
    As Dawson twisted the marble, it changed from blue to yellow.
    “But it’s a fake marble.” Sammy said.
    “You can examine it.”
    Amanda’s hair blew in the wind. She squinted at her brother.
    Sammy rolled the marble, shook it, rubbed on it, shrugged, and gave it back. He stared at it. “I know it’s fake. I study science. It must be science. Everything is science.”
    Amanda punched Sammy. She frowned.
    “Amanda, magic is not real.” Sammy said. He shook his head. “It’s science.” He waved his arms.
    Amanda said, “I will tell mom.”
    “What will you tell mom?”
    “I will tell mom.”
    “Oh, hey, Amanda,” Dawson said as he drew in a huge breath and leaned forward. “Can I guess your favourite colour?”
    She gasped and smiled. “Yes?”
    “Mom is calling you home. Now,” Sammy said.
    One day, 13 years ago, mom had called Dawson home early from football. He had grunted and his skin had still been red.
    Mom had been frowning. Her whole body had been tense as she hugged herself. Dawson had looked at her, mute.
    Her eyes had been wet and sunken. Her eyebrows had been creased. She would not look away from a spot on the floor.
    “Er..., mom, is there some food?” Dawson had said.
    She had not replied. But a phone had rung. Dawson had been in the kitchen, as he would open the first and the second and the third cabinets, all empty, and he had heard the words “Hospital” and “Bad”. Then, “Very bad.”
    He had heard mom speak his sister’s name five times. Her voice had been hushed.
    She had let out a wail.
    “Okay, let’s go home, Amanda.” Sammy said and held her small hand in his.
    “No! Let’s stay,” she said. She tugged at his arm. “I want to watch!”
    “Amanda, I have to go too. It’s late,” the flower girl said in a soft voice.
    Amanda frowned. She looked at Dawson, waved, and walked away sulking.
    Dawson sighed and bit his lip. He moved his hands as if they held an energy ball. He watched the slides.

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