The Magician's Sons

Chapter 23

Charlie was still floating on high expectations when he got ready to start his second day of work. His position at The Pearl may not have been exciting or gratifying to his self-esteem, but he did his best to feel content.

"It is a very useful, needed position," he told himself. "Such a needed position that EVERYONE will appreciate and respect me! After all," he added with a grumble, "I am doing what none of them are willing to do. For that, I think I deserve a great deal of respect!"

He rushed down from his attic bedroom, not sorry a bit that he would never have to sleep there again. What joyous relief to think that he would sleep on one of the hotel's feather beds that night—that he would taste a small part of every luxury The Pearl of Britannia could offer.

"G'mornin' Charlie!" his sister greeted as he reached the kitchen. Although she spoke with a smile, he suddenly noticed that there were tears in her eyes. A glance at his mother showed him that her eyes were glossy too.

"Have some breakfast before you go, love," the woman said, pressing a kiss on the boy's cheek.

Charlie gulped to swallow the lump in his throat as reality struck him. Much as he hated to admit it, he was going to miss his family.

No, no, no! You will not do this! he warned himself as a mist of tears stung his eyes. He gave his mother a quick squeeze, and the loving pressure of her arms almost did him in. But no, he had to stay strong and confident.

Charlie managed to get through breakfast without letting his tears fall. He joked and laughed with his sister and brother. Then, he croaked a word of farewell before walking into the bakery. There, his weary father sat behind the main desk. The man had tried to handle everything almost single handedly last night, but by the look on his despairing face, it was clear he had lost all hope for his business.

"Good bye, Father," Charlie said quietly. Henry met his gaze, and the boy tried to smile. "I'm off to work," he explained. "When I am paid, I will bring you what I have earned."

He turned to leave, feeling downcast, yet holding on tight to his courage. But, before he opened the shop door and stepped out, he heard his father call his name. The next minute, he was enveloped in the man's crushing embrace.

"You're a good lad, Charlie!" his father said with emotion. "You make me proud! Good bye now, and good luck!"

With his courage strengthened and his joy renewed, Charlie struggled past his own feelings and smiled. Then, his busy day began. He reached The Pearl just in time and flew into his chores with vigor. He cleaned and tidied, scrubbed and rubbed, and threw trash away. Hours passed by; still the work wasn't finished.

I should have asked Mr. Jones just how much money I would be paid for this, he thought late in the evening as he painstakingly picked lint off of the hall carpet. For all this work, it will be plenty I assume. Dear me! This job is harder than kneading a whole trough of bread single handed!

As the boy slaved away, he imagined the sum of money he would receive for his labor. Surely it would be more than enough for all of his needs. He could hold a little back for himself and give the rest to his parents. Their bills would be paid, the children fed, and he would be the mighty hero of the day.

As he imagined himself being showered with praise and grateful words from all sides, footsteps tromped up the graceful staircase and down the hall toward him. Looking up, he saw Major Jameson with his nephew, Blair, trailing behind him.

"I hardly see you these days, Blair," the man was saying, puffing smoke out of his cigar. Charlie eyed him critically.

Humph! He knows the rule is 'no smoking in this establishment', and yet he flaunts that cigar in our faces! No wonder the walls are so sooty and— His jaw dropped as he witnessed an act of deliberate misconduct. As the major marched onward, he gave his cigar a hard tap with his fingers that sent ashes falling all over Charlie's half-clean carpet.