Magic Sneakers
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
There was no mistaking it, and the sight of it sent a shockwave through her body. Her heart thudded in her chest with excitement as she looked down at the object resting on the bed, and her mind raced to find an answer.
Magic shoes! They were real—real and waiting for her—and they could solve her problem. She reached down for them and held them up against the light. The leather was soft and smooth under her fingers; there wasn’t even any dust left inside the shoe. And how did this happen?
There had been no magic involved in the purchase of these sneakers: she had gone shopping and bought a new pair and put them away in their box without thinking about anything that could have happened afterward.
And yet here they were. A magical set of shoes. How would these work? What power would they possess? Did they really belong to her now? Would they make her run faster? Or jump higher or farther or longer?
Or would it be more like wearing a piece of her own body wrapped around her legs, giving her strength? And why didn’t these shoes look any different from every other pair she owned? Could they possibly be some sort of illusion trick? Had something else actually changed her appearance but somehow made everyone believe that she’d gotten taller all of a sudden? But the idea felt wrong…
She stared at the shoes and then took one step back and forth in front of the mirror, holding one hand out before her face to study her reflection. Everything seemed normal except for this strange new pair of sneakers. It wasn’t just that her height hadn’t changed.
If anyone saw her right now, they would see that she had not grown an inch in height overnight. The only thing that had changed was the color of the tennis shoes she wore on her feet, and maybe a little bit of their shape.
“It’s true,” she said to herself. “They are magic.”
A small smile broke across her lips. She turned toward the wall with the windows behind her room and opened the curtains wide, letting in plenty of light so she could examine her new sneakers better.
Then she ran over to the chair where she kept the clothes basket and pulled out a shirt and a pair of shorts and dressed quickly, tying both pairs of shoes tight beneath the hem of the t-shirt.
She walked outside into the sunshine and sat down at the edge of the grassy area surrounding her house, looking out onto the field beyond, taking several deep breaths to calm her racing heart and trying to remember exactly what she had read when she first started reading about this stuff.
Magic can’t do everything. It’s got limits…
That must be it. No matter how powerful her new shoes may seem, they couldn’t give her superpowers. And if that was the case, they should be easy to understand. She’d heard of other forms of magical items before, things like wands, amulets, or rings, and those things had always had some sort of magical power that had been used to cast spells or invoke spirits and so forth.
And these shoes weren’t a wand or an amulet or anything like that, they were sneakers, just a plain old pair of tennis shoes that had magically appeared in her closet after having never been there before.
But then…what was it that she had read about magical artifacts? They were usually imbued by a spirit or something like that and given their powers by the person who owned them.
And while she knew this meant nothing when it came to shoes, because she hadn’t been able to buy these or ask someone to make them for her, it also meant she wouldn’t have much luck getting information from her mother on this subject either.
So what did she know that might be helpful? She needed to get her hands on a book that talked specifically about this kind of thing. But which books would tell her how to deal with magic? Not the ones in fairy tales.
Those were fantasy stories, not historical facts, and besides, fairies don’t exist. That left two possibilities: mythology or history. Which was more likely to help her figure out what she wanted to do?
“Let’s go with mythology,” she decided, standing up again.
She walked down the short path that led off her porch and across the front yard and out into the field beyond, following the same route she took on her regular runs along the perimeter. Once she got away from the houses, it wasn’t long before she came across the stone bench and stopped beside it, turning back toward the street to catch the eye of a jogger passing by.
He waved at her and she nodded and he went on running; she turned to watch him go and then looked ahead to find a spot where she could sit down and pull out her phone. But it wasn’t until a few moments later that she realized she wasn’t alone. There was another runner, not far ahead of her. A girl.
“Hey!” she called out to her, waving. The other runner paused and glanced back, then gave a slight nod and continued moving forward, but didn’t slow her pace. “You’re not going too fast?”
The girl hesitated, then shrugged. “I run every day,” she replied.
Molly felt a little relieved at first, but then a sudden sinking feeling hit her. “So you live around here, then?”
The other runner shook her head. “Not really. I’m visiting my uncle’s family, though we haven’t met yet.”
“Oh.” Molly’s stomach sank even deeper. This girl would be out of her league. Even if they lived in different towns, they still probably didn’t know each other very well, and it was entirely possible this new runner wouldn’t be interested in talking to the neighbor kid. But she’d tried, so now it was time to try again. “Well, maybe we’ll see each other on our next run.”
She watched as the girl went on past her, keeping up her steady pace without slowing. When she reached the end of the path, she slowed and then turned around and jogged slowly back to the stone bench, coming to a stop beside Molly.
“What’s your name?” she asked, glancing over at her.
“Um…Molly.” She held out a hand in greeting and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
And the girl smiled politely and shook her hand. “I’m Emily,” she replied. “Emily Jones.”
“Nice to meet you, Emily,” said Molly, giving her a smile and shaking her own hand. Her fingers tingled slightly as it brushed against hers. And then she let go of her own hand, suddenly self-conscious about touching anyone else, not having any idea what was going on in her mind that was causing such odd reactions. “Maybe we’ll run into each other someday then.”
Emily frowned a little, looking uncertain. “Okay.” And she started off again, leaving Molly behind, and Molly watched her go and thought that was probably it for this morning. She couldn’t imagine the girl would remember her face or want to run into her, especially since Molly didn’t know anything about her except that she belonged to a family visiting from somewhere else.
At least, she thought that was all the girl knew. But then…
Emily turned and waved to Molly.
“Oh, hey,” she called after her, trying to keep up with the jogger. “Do you run every day?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just turned right onto the sidewalk that led down toward the main road and kept going. But she heard Emily say, “I run three times a week.”
That meant there were days when she was home instead of running and she hadn’t mentioned any other friends or acquaintances who ran with her. Maybe she didn’t have any other runners in her life, which made it more likely to happen, but it also made it less likely, too.
Not wanting to leave it like that, Molly stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass and continued after the jogger until she caught up and then waited for a break in the flow of traffic to cross over to get back on the pavement.
Once she was back on the street, she hurried after Emily but found she had lost sight of the girl’s form. She crossed the street once again to continue chasing her, but soon saw that Emily must have gone on into the woods, for no matter how far ahead she got, it always seemed like she’d be able to catch up with her again.
After about fifteen minutes of searching through the trees, she finally found herself on the other side of the trail which joined the paved path, walking down the graveled surface toward the main street. Emily paused briefly to take in a breath, then turned to look behind her and noticed Molly coming up from the woodline.
“Good morning,” she greeted the girl as she walked toward her. They both paused for a moment as they approached one another. “How’d it go?” asked Emily, turning away from her to watch as Molly came to a halt next to her.
“Not bad,” said Molly, glancing down at the pavement. She’d never been much of a runner and the rough surface of the concrete wasn’t exactly kind to her feet, either.
“You didn’t make it today,” replied Emily with a slight frown.
“No,” agreed Molly, smiling a little despite her discomfort. “But maybe tomorrow.”
“We’ll see,” said the girl before turning and continuing down the road. “See you later then.” And she started off.
Molly followed close behind her, feeling a little frustrated that she hadn’t been able to talk with the girl longer and find out more. It would have been nice to at least give her a few details of what she did and didn’t know about running before asking her to be someones running partner.
Still, there was time enough to do that. And so she settled for asking the girl for a favor, hoping to use it as a way to keep in touch if nothing else.
As Emily turned to cross the road at the light, Molly called out, “Hey!”
She turned back and gave her a hesitant smile. “Yes?”
“Could I ask a favor then?”
The girl glanced behind her, as though making sure no one was coming. And then she took in a breath and said, “Sure, but you don’t have to.”
“I can pay you,” offered Molly. “I’ve got some money now, you know. A job and everything.”
Emily hesitated a moment. Then she nodded. “All right. How much?”
“Twenty dollars an hour,” said Molly, thinking of the extra income that would mean and the fact that if she could work it right, she might even be able to afford lunch.
“That’s okay,” said Emily quickly, raising a hand to wave her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
Molly frowned. That wasn’t quite the same thing as saying she couldn’t pay. The girl was obviously not used to having people offer her stuff, and Molly decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.
After all, there was certainly plenty of time for them to get acquainted and for her to find a better way to earn her pay. Besides, it wasn’t as though she needed the money, considering she didn’t need to buy food or pay bills anymore. So why should she worry about whether or not the girl earned more than her?
“Okay,” she said slowly, deciding that this probably wasn’t something to push against.
Instead of answering directly, however, Emily just raised her eyebrows and smiled as though she were waiting for further explanation.
“I’m sorry,” explained Molly. “It’s just that … I can’t really explain, but we’re pretty short on cash.”
“Really?” asked Emily, seeming surprised. “Why is that?”
So she told her everything that had happened since the end of school, from losing her parents’ house to moving in with Missy and being taken in by the church. As she talked, the girl listened carefully until she finished explaining, then she nodded once. “I think I understand.”
“What does that mean?” asked Molly, frowning slightly at the odd expression. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” insisted Emily. “But there are things that aren’t right.”
She hesitated again. “Look, you’ve already paid me ten dollars an hour. We’re only talking for two hours more, and it’s almost eleven. Would you be willing to cut it back?”
Molly hesitated. She felt uncomfortable taking less money. But she also didn’t want to offend the girl. And if she was going to be working as Emily’s running partner—or whatever that was—she wanted it to be a good relationship, one that was fair. So she nodded reluctantly. “All right,” she agreed. “How much do you want me to make?”
“Ten an hour,” said Emily, holding her hands out. “And that’s not negotiable.”
Molly shrugged and shook her head. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t pay me,” clarified Emily, sounding somewhat hurt.
“Of course,” agreed on Molly quickly. “If you like, I’ll give you twenty dollars instead. And if you decide to make any special arrangements—”
“No,” said Emily firmly. “This is our deal.”
Molly sighed but nodded. She handed over a stack of bills, which caused a bit of confusion between the two girls as they counted their respective earnings. At last, the pile came up short and Molly reached for another bill, trying not to seem too worried by the lack of change.
It was hard to believe there could be so many pennies in circulation, especially considering how few people used cash these days.
The End