Selections from Bellevue Literary Review, Spring 2002
The Properties of Magic
Ray Gonzalez
Augustino learned the properties of
magic when he found a broken rosary on the playground and turned
it in to Sister Delina. The Sister stared at him without saying
a word and took the broken rosary from his outstretched hand. He
left her classroom worried that she thought he had broken it. Augustino
studied the properties of magic when he went to church alone, knelt
before La Virgen de Guadalupe, and lit one candle in the rows of
dozens of unlit candles. He prayed, then opened his eyes to find
two whole rows of burning candles. He made the sign of the cross
and quickly left the church. Augustino was taught the properties
of magic when he awoke in the middle of the night to find a headless
man standing at the foot of his bed. The man, dressed in an old
Army uniform, reached into his empty neck and pulled out a piñata
of a donkey like the one Augustino had been given by his parents
on his fifth birthday. Gasping for air, Augustino lay back on the
bed and wanted to scream. He stayed calm, then peered out from the
blankets. There was no one there. Augustino contemplated the properties
of magic the day the sparrow flew into his room and touched all
four corners with a rapid fluttering of wings. When Augustino looked
up from doing his homework at his desk, the sparrow hovered over
a drawing of a river and mountain he’d colored in school that day.
Augustino stood and waved his arms and the sparrow found its way
out the window. Augustino realized the properties of magic when
he went to shut the window and found two ants carrying a dead honeybee
across the sill. He bent down and watched the struggling insects
move the heavy bee inch by inch. He let them cross, until a breeze
from the open window blew the ants and their meal over the ledge
and outside. Augustino believed in the properties of magic when
his parents screamed at each other and his father left one night,
never to return. For the first two weeks his father was gone, Augustino
waited on the porch, rocking quietly on the old, white swing. His
father never returned. Late one night, near the end of the two weeks
of waiting, Augustino watched from the swing as a blue light hovered
in the alley across the street. At first, he thought it was the
headlights from a car moving between the houses, perhaps his father’s.
As he stopped swinging and stared, the blue light traced patterns
on the adobe walls, lifted high above the dark houses, and came
straight at Augustino. Before he could react, the blue light exploded
in front of his eyes like a Fourth of July sparkler, then disappeared.
Augustino used the properties of magic when he rose from the swing,
bent down and picked up the broken rosary he spotted on the ground.
He cupped it in his hands. Augustino pressed harder to feel the
warmth and thought he heard his father’s voice down the street.
When his mother called to him to come inside, Augustino placed the
mended rosary in his pocket and opened the screen door for the last
time that night
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