2. Paws and a Bookmark #8
Simeon nodded, then staggered. Tom caught him and helped him sit on a stool Pedro dragged from behind the counter. "Drop shields," Borscht said. "Danger passed."
Ms. Fredricks waved her phone. "The police gave the 'all clear' up in the plaza, Mr. Isaacson."
Simeon withdrew his magic from the defenses, lowering them and sending what he could to Vladimir. The lights came on. He sat, head hanging, shaking.
"Talk to me," Vladimir said in Russian from atop the counter. "Talk to me, brother."
"The memories. It felt the same, sounded almost exactly the same," he started, then stopped and changed to English. "Not a pogrom this time." He reached over and petted thick, short fur. Vladimir hadn't been with him then, this wasn't Archangel.
"It is not, and you are an adult who can fight back," his Familiar reminded him. "And have customers who want out, and to pay, not in that order."
Simeon managed to get to his feet and cleared the way for Stacey and several customers. The lights came back on, and he unlocked the door, then scooped Vladimir off the counter. Tom helped his mother start putting things back in the window after Pedro raised the shades.
Simeon carried the cat to the back, fed him, then downed a bottle of full-sugar pop and a bag of cookies, followed by nut mix. They had not had to escape out the roof this time, had not seen a cousin beaten to—
"No. Not here, not now," he told himself. "In free land, can fight."
The curtain opened, and Tom peered in. "You OK? That was a flashback, wasn't it? Before you cast the shield."
"Tell him," Vladimir said from behind his dining screen. "He's safe."
Simeon took a very deep breath. "I grew up in Russia, city of Archangel.
My family were Germans who had been in Russia since Catherine the Great.
Hid during Stalin years, stayed quiet later.
But there was riot. Someone decided we looked wrong.
" He stopped, fought the memories until they went back where they belonged.
"My parents got me, two sisters, away from mob.
Some family didn't make it." They'd gotten to the US, the land of the free, through a miracle and much hard work.
"Shit, sir." Tom rested one hand on his shoulder. "Damn, that's rough. You talk to anyone about it?"
"No. Others saw worse things, and it hasn't been a problem before." Pedro's sister, Stacey's first partner ... He tried to joke, "This isn't LA or New York, riots don't happen on a weekly basis." His words sounded flat.
Tom shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with getting help, sir. 'Specially if you get feelings mixed in with magic and memories, you need to get help. I've worked with some of our, Marine, spell slingers, and that's what they say."
"Thank you. I'm OK now."
Stacey poked his head in through the dark fabric blocking the view into the store. "Boss, you got a groupie who wants you to sign her book." He winked. "Her parents are with her."
Tom gave him a strange look. Simeon smiled. "You'll see." The Marine followed him out through the heavy curtains.
Up near the counter, a five-year-old girl saw them coming and began to bounce, pigtails flopping. She clutched the American Revolution alphabet book to her chest. "Hi Mister Booker! Can you sign this for me?"
"Ahem," came from behind her.
"Please?" she added, twisting to look up at her father, then back at Simeon. "Is Blufoot here too?"
"I'll be delighted to sign your book, miss. Blufoot is, but he's sleeping right now. He had a busy morning." Simeon pulled a glitter pen out of his shirt pocket and crouched to be at her eye level. "To whom shall I sign?"
"To Carrie-with-a-C, please." She presented him with the brand-new book, eyes wide. "You're real!"
As he signed, her eyes grew wider. "Mr. Blufoot!" Simeon glanced down. Vladimir rubbed around the girl twice, then thumped her hand with his head.
"He's real, and will let you scratch behind his ears very gently." Somewhat bemused, he heard a loud purr, then watched as she rubbed the cat's head, then scratched behind his ears. "He usually naps during this time of afternoon."
A moment later, the cat unwound himself from around the little girl's leg and sauntered off to the counter, then hopped up to his nest. A faint whisper brushed his inner ears. The little ones need wonders, Tovarish, da?
Simeon finished signing, then showed her the inscription. "Yes, I am real. Just like the people and stories in this book."
"Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou," she bounced some more before her father got her turned around and headed for the door.
Simeon stood with a bit of a creak from his left knee and ankle. Carrie's mother extended her hand, and they shook. "Thank you, sir. She loves to read along with you, and we download your podcast for her. Can you tell me what the next book will be?"
"Yes, ma'am. The Cat of Magic Mountain by D. J. Fleming."
"The Cat of Magic Mountain. Thank you. Have a lovely day." She followed her husband and children out of the shop. Carrie had the book open, reading as she walked, or trying to.
Pedro nudged Tom, carefully. "Now that's real magic."