Who needs magic when you have the internet? Not Hardison. Magic never needed him, but now, apparently, it does. Hardison tries not to feel too smug about it.
When Hardison was a kid, he tended to end up with his ears charmed purple or his nose twice its size, or his legs locked, or his pants transfigured into tutus. Squib squib squib, the other kids would chant gleefully, and Hardison would demand to fight a fight without magic, see how gleeful they all are without their stupid wands, but nobody would listen to him. They didn't have to listen to him; he couldn't make them.
One day, he was told, "Alec, you're going to be living with this very nice lady now." Alec had been skeptical of course. Grown-ups like to say things like 'very nice lady' but then you find out she's a dentist or something. The lady didn't look like a dentist, but who can tell these days anyway? Sometimes dentists take off their medic robes and wear regular robes; it's hard to tell.
The introduction continued, a little awkwardly, "She's... she's like you."
The 'very nice lady' said, "She mean I don't got magic. It's okay, girl, ain't no harm in saying it. It's nice to meet you, Alec."
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"Well," she replied, "you can call me Nana."
"That's a silly name," said Alec.
But she was not a silly woman. When he walked out of there that day, with all his stuff in a bag that Nana carried for him, she said, "You and I gotta stick together, people like us. I heard about them other kids picking on you. Sometimes people try to game us squibs around, you know, but you remember that don't make them better than you."
"I know," said Alec, who didn't, but liked the sound of what she was saying, and the conviction she said it with.
"Games is games, but self-respect is self-respect."
"Where are we going?"
They had left the boundaries of the neighborhood Alec knew. Back a while ago, they had crossed through a tunnel and there was a weird feeling like something had changed in the air, some indefinable quality he wouldn't even know how to begin describing. It was weird, but not bad per se.
"We're going home, son," said Nana, "and we're taking the bus."
OVEREMOTIONAL GESTURES OF SOLIDARITY ARE SUCH STUFF AS DREAMS ARE MADE ON.
When Hardison was a kid, he tended to end up with his ears charmed purple or his nose twice its size, or his legs locked, or his pants transfigured into tutus. Squib squib squib, the other kids would chant gleefully, and Hardison would demand to fight a fight without magic, see how gleeful they all are without their stupid wands, but nobody would listen to him. They didn't have to listen to him; he couldn't make them.
One day, he was told, "Alec, you're going to be living with this very nice lady now." Alec had been skeptical of course. Grown-ups like to say things like 'very nice lady' but then you find out she's a dentist or something. The lady didn't look like a dentist, but who can tell these days anyway? Sometimes dentists take off their medic robes and wear regular robes; it's hard to tell.
The introduction continued, a little awkwardly, "She's... she's like you."
The 'very nice lady' said, "She mean I don't got magic. It's okay, girl, ain't no harm in saying it. It's nice to meet you, Alec."
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"Well," she replied, "you can call me Nana."
"That's a silly name," said Alec.
But she was not a silly woman. When he walked out of there that day, with all his stuff in a bag that Nana carried for him, she said, "You and I gotta stick together, people like us. I heard about them other kids picking on you. Sometimes people try to game us squibs around, you know, but you remember that don't make them better than you."
"I know," said Alec, who didn't, but liked the sound of what she was saying, and the conviction she said it with.
"Games is games, but self-respect is self-respect."
"Where are we going?"
They had left the boundaries of the neighborhood Alec knew. Back a while ago, they had crossed through a tunnel and there was a weird feeling like something had changed in the air, some indefinable quality he wouldn't even know how to begin describing. It was weird, but not bad per se.
"We're going home, son," said Nana, "and we're taking the bus."