The Magician's Assistant

[5] Ruth's Test

          “Are you punctual?”

          “Always.”

          “Are you alright with the money I am willing to pay you?”

          “Duh!”

          “Ever been arrested?”

          “Seriously?”

          The questions fired one after another, and I swear she now knew more about me than my own parents. She managed to leave out details that would tip off William (whom was carefully listening) about our arrangement. She didn’t want him to know that I would be watching over him and keeping him in line. Strangely, he hadn’t said much.

          James was still acting strange, tensing up and fading out of sight whenever I shifted near William.

          “I have one question, actually,” William shot in, right after Ruth commented that we were ready to wrap this up.

          “Yeah?” I asked, biting my lip.

          “Can you keep a secret?” He asked.

          “What kind of question is that?” I questioned, raising my eyebrows.

          “Just answer it,” he ordered, failing to break eye contact.

          “Yeah, I can keep a secret. Who would I tell?” I replied.

          After a second, William nodded, satisfied with my response. “Good answer.”

          “Okay, enough stress for the girl,” Johnny intervened, “let’s play some foosball!”

          Two pizzas, fifteen sodas, five thousand napkins, and eight belches later, we were done pigging out. I was officially considered part of their group by Ruth, much to William’s silent dismay. James stood there like a grump the entire time, never leaving my side. If William got a little too close, James literally shoved him away. It was leaving William disoriented and freaked out.

          “What the hell is going on?” I heard him mumble to himself.

          “Talking to yourself again, Wilbur?” Johnny asked in a muffled voice, shoving another piece of pizza in his mouth. For such a skinny guy, the kid ate a lot. I snorted quietly at his nickname.

          “Don’t call me that,” William grumbled.

          “Okay, piglet,” Johnny replied instantly, grinning with a sauce-covered face.

          William scowled and shoved a pillow over Johnny’s face, holding it there. Johnny pretended to struggle out of his grasp, yelling, “Help me! Help me! Somebody heeeeeeeeelp me,”

 And then suddenly went limp. My eyes widened, momentarily fooled.

          “You killed me,” came his meek voice from under the pillow.

          “Idiot,” William insulted, even smiling a little.

          “But you loooove me,” Johnny insisted.

          “Keep thinking that,” William snorted, shaking his head.

          “You loooove me, right Rachel?” Johnny asked, suddenly peering out from under the pillow. Honestly, I couldn’t stop myself from giggling.