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his hamdullah .
    “Janet, this crazy quest of yours to find magic, or whatever the fuck, is getting out of control. People are going to start thinking you’re crazy.”
    A cottony eyebrow rose heavenward. “Is that your plan?”
    “No. My plan was to go home. Now, my plan is to wait for a service truck to tow me out of here. So, thank you. Any reason why I shouldn’t sue for this?”
    “Aha! So that’s your plan?”
    “I give up.” He fanned the air and nodded down the road. “Go. I don’t have time for your crazy delusions today.”
    “I’ll wait.”
    “For what?”
    The question hadn’t come from his lips but from his wife. She flung open her car door, slammed it shut, and full-on stomped toward them. He’d seen that face before and upon seeing it now, shook his head, silently begging her not to lose her shit.
    No such luck. She fumed, hands clawed like a descending harpy. “What do you want to wait for? Huh? To see if we just magically fix the car and—”
    Janet rushed her, hands fanned out and shaking wildly. “You don’t know what he is! He’s ... he’s...”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “Rosa!”
    “He’s my creation.”
    Ah, hell.
    “ All the magic in him came from me.”
    He looked from one woman to the other, completely dumbfounded. Was this his day? Really? To see a magic fight between two people who, let’s be honest here, had no real magic. In this corner, an herbalist who lived when frankfurters cost a nickel, and in the other corner, a woman who also lived when frankfurters cost a nickel. “You two should be trading stories, not insults.” If either of the combatants heard him, they didn’t let on.
    He stopped between his wife’s hooked finger and Janet’s shaking fist. “This fight is too stupid to continue. Janet, she’s just trying to rile you up. She knows you’re crazy. And baby—”
    “I’m not crazy, and you know it. She slipped up is all.” Janet stepped back and angled her bicycle between them. “You’ve seen what I can do. Let’s see what you can do. I put your car in the ditch.”
    “You didn’t, lady. You just got in the way and we swerved.”
    “Go on. I dare you.”
    He laced his hand behind his head and shuffled from one side to the other, praying for heavenly intercession. “Leave it be, Rosa.”
    But she jumped full steam ahead on the crazy train. “If we have all this magic that’s got you crapping your diapers, why would you want to piss him off?”
    With her hands on her hips, Janet advanced. Her eyes narrowed to wrinkled slits. “Are you threatening me, little girl?”
    “I’m a little older than I appear ... little girl.”
    It was likely the approaching car that kept Janet’s pinched lips from parting again. They heard it before they saw it, and in the time it took to crank his neck from here to there, Janet had gone from freaking Leonidas, King of the Spartans, to lady in the medic alert commercials.
    “Don’t you dare, Janet.”
    She opened one eye and winked, before grasping her chest and dropping, writhing on the pavement.
    He had to physically wrench a swearing Rosa away. “I’ll kill her, Fazil.”
    “I’ll tell them you tried,” Janet said, before going back to her quality performance.
    The approaching car skidded to a halt and four doors opened. The Nedersons popped out, five strapping men strong, and rushed to their assistance.
    “They hit me. They hit me,” Janet croaked, lips trembling the whole time.
    The eldest of the blond giants rushed to pick her up, but his Rosa had a bit of the artist in her too. She fell to her knees, brushing a lock of Janet’s hair away. He couldn’t have been the only one seeing the old lady rolling her eyes. “There, there, Mrs. Dickey. Poor thing just stepped out into the road. She’s still got one earbud in her ear.”
    “They darn near knocked it out of me.” Then, likely remembering she was knocking on heaven’s door, Janet moaned and called out for the dear, sweet, baby Jesus.
    The