Magic

MAGIC

by

Alanna Parke Kvale

I had exactly ten minutes to make it to the job interview and in this downtown rush hour traffic, that meant making a run for it. Not having a car was a blessing sometimes, and a curse at others. As I stood waiting at the stop light for the cross signal and wishing I was wearing my sneakers, instead of two inch heels.

I noticed an old woman approaching from my left. She was wearing a radiant smile on her wrinkled face and carrying a large, red shopping bag. As she approached, she waved at me and called my name. I couldn’t imagine who she was. She was dressed in raggedy clothes and the most ridiculous hat, that hadn’t been in style since my grandmother’s day. One of the homeless, I thought, a poor, little bag lady and she knew me?

I always feel guilty if I don’t give them money, but a few dollars really wouldn’t change their lives one way or another. Anyway, I had very few dollars of my own, hence the job interview.

I glanced at my watch, the time was ticking away. I just couldn’t be late, I needed the job. But she needed something too, didn’t she? She was, by then, right in front of me offering me the red shopping bag.

“Here you go, this is for you, Dear.”

Without thinking, I took the bag, then realized she was probably trying to sell me something, or God forbid, passing off something she’d stolen.

After handing me the bag, she smiled and passed me, going on down the street and I turned, intending to give it back to her, but she had simply disappeared into thin air. Now, what was I going to do?

Glancing at my watch again, I dashed across the street and into the bank building wherein lay the offices of Canwey, Stickem and Goughem. There was nothing I could do now, I was going to be late. And I knew I looked horrible as well, windblown and rumpled and with absolutely no time for a quick trip to the ladies’ room to freshen up. Smoothing my hair and tugging at my suit jacket in a vain attempt to improve my appearance, I approached the office door and my bid for the receptionist position.

I stepped inside the office and came face to face with a matronly figure who looked as if she had been carefully preserved since the 1940s. She looked disapprovingly at my rumpled appearance, taking in my mussed hair, my wrinkled suit and flushed face, then glanced meaningfully at the watch pinned to her ample bosom.

“Miss Chandler, I presume? You are exactly five and one half minutes late. That will never do. Your qualifications would have to be exemplary for me to overlook this kind of behavior. Unless you can immediately produce an outstanding resume’, I’m afraid this interview is over before it begins.”

I stood staring at her, not believing what I’d heard.

“I’m sorry to be late, but I’m on foot you see, and the traffic was dreadful.”

“Perhaps if you hadn’t stopped to shop, you could have made it to this interview on time.” She stared pointedly at the red shopping bag the old woman had handed me, and which I still clutched.

Before I could explain how I’d come by the shopping bag, she had ushered me out and closed the door firmly behind me. Great! There went a chance at a perfectly good job, down the tubes.

I wandered back outside and looked both directions wondering what to do next, when I spotted, only a block down, a park bench, a patch of green grass and a little pond with ducks floating lazily round in circles. My feet were killing me, so I headed that way and plopped down on the bench. As I set the red shopping bag down next to me, I looked curiously inside for the first time. I pulled out a bouquet of flowers, a loaf of very stale bread and a smaller bag containing two sandwiches and two apples.

Well, it looked like I’d have lunch and feed the ducks while I figured out what to do next. I wondered again about that old woman and who she might have been. I stuck the flowers down between the slats of the bench and smiled for the first time that day.

“Flowers certainly brighten up a day, don’t they Lass?”

I looked up into the bright blue eyes of an elderly gentleman, dressed so tattily, I assumed he hadn’t two dimes to rub together. Then he pointed to the sandwiches and apples.

“Got a luncheon date, have you? That’s nice.”

“Actually, I don’t, would you care to join me? There’s enough for both of us.”

“Don’t mind if I do, little lady, that’s very generous of you, I must say.”

He took the sandwich I offered and began to munch, smacking his lips, then wiped his face and fingers with a raggedy piece of cloth. It looked like it still had a monogram embroidered on it, though it was old and worn. He finished the apple in short order too, then helped me feed the ducks the stale bread.

“You certainly came prepared little lady, I’ll give you that. You always this organized?”

His eyes twinkled as if he was teasing me, and I felt an urge to tease him back.

“I wish I was, Sir. As a matter of fact, a fairy godmother provided all this.“

Pulling a handkerchief from my purse, I wiped my fingers. “It was the oddest thing, actually. A little, old lady simply walked up to me and handed me this bag saying, ‘Here, this is for you, Dear,’ and then vanished.” I shook my head, still bewildered.

“No, if I was organized enough, I would have gotten that job this morning instead of blowing the interview. Between the traffic and the little bag lady, I was late you see, and the interviewer thought I had been shopping.” I gestured at the now empty bag.

“So, you need a job, do you? What is it you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I was applying for the job of receptionist actually, right down the street there, but I’m not sure I could work for that woman after all. Definitely hostile. I’d rather work for someone nice and friendly, you know?”

“I understand exactly, Miss, uh, you know, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Pardon me, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? My name is Leah Chandler.” And I put my hand out and he shook it heartily and smiled at me.

“Pleased to meet you Miss Chandler, mighty pleased to be sure. So how would you like to work for me. It so happens, I’m looking for somebody to handle my front office. I’m J.P. Smithers of Smithers Investments.”

Mr. Smithers! He only owned the biggest company in town, heck, he owned most of the town. My mouth dropped open in astonishment and he started laughing. Laughter, being infectious, I joined him.

“Sometimes, it’s downright magical how the right people get together at just the right time, wouldn’t you say, little lady?”

Glancing over his shoulder, I spotted the little bag lady across the street, leaning on a cart, filled with bright, red shopping bags. She smiled that radiant smile at me again and winked.

“Magical is definitely the word, Sir.”

THE END