Quest

Dear Terry,

Please don’t blame yourself for my running away. I’ve just gone on a small quest to find true magic out in this depressed little world of ours. Once I find some “Hocus Pocus” I’ll be sure to get back. I am confident that my excursion will take no more than a few hours so I hope to see you and everyone by supper time. Here’s to hoping I have a grand adventure!

Always,

Perry Alonso

P.S. I know you’ll do just great here!

“I don’t believe this!” Terry Lucas exclaimed when he found the letter. “It’s my first day!” The curtain flapped in the breeze blowing in through the open window. Terry jumped to it and stuck his head out hoping he would find Mr. Alonso wandering outside. But today, he would have no such luck.

Dashing outside the room, he searches every room up and down the hall but there was no sign of the patient anywhere. Terry stormed to the dining room and saw that it was empty and smelled of the previous night’s “Salisbury steak surprise,” the surprise being that there was no actual steak involved. The orderly’s hurried feet shuffled him off to the opposite wing of the retirement home just beyond the nurses’ station. There were several vending machines where residents tend to bump into each other and lose themselves in conversation.

“He’s not here either,” Terry thought to himself. “Even if he was, I’m sure that one of the nurses would have seen him passing by. But I can’t let them know that I lost someone on my first day of the job!”

They young man jogged calmly passed the nurses’ station. When he was out of sight he bulleted back to Mr. Alonso’s room hoping he would have returned, but the room was still empty. Terry took out the letter and sat on the old man’s bed. He read the letter over and over again hoping to find some sort of clue to the retiree’s whereabouts.

“Why is ‘hocus pocus’ in quotations?” he asked himself. “A clue perhaps?” Just then, bells echoed outside. Terry got to his feet and walked towards the window. As he stuck his head out, he saw that the bells were coming from the church next door. It was then he realized one of the origins of the phrase “hocus pocus.”

During the dark ages, peasants would attend mass even though the entire service was performed in Latin, a language only the nobility could afford to learn. When the priest blessed the bread he would utter the phrase “This is my Body” in Latin, or “Hoc est Corpus Meum.” Because the peasants and farmers had no idea what this phrase meant they just assumed the phrase “Hoc est Corpus” was some sort of way to conjure up magic. Centuries of mispronunciations would result in “hocus pocus.”

Terry sat quietly in the pew realizing too late that the ringing of the bells meant that a service had just begun. His eyes scanned up and down every head that bowed in reverence to the ceremonious singing. He had hoped to find Perry but instead found a pair of green eyes looking suspiciously back at him. He sneaked outside hoping to escape those eyes but they were close behind. A tap on the shoulder startled him. He turned around and found a woman, about his age, with short red hair and green eyes smiling softly at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you were wearing that uniform. Are you a nurse from the retirement home?”

“An orderly, actually,” he responded, nervous.

“My father is actually staying at that house, and I was wondering how he’s doing?”

“I’m sure he’s doing fine, miss. We take good care of our residents.” Except the ones that run away, Terry thought to himself.

“Actually, I was thinking that you might know him,” her voice was low and sweet. “His name is Perry Alonso.”

“Yeah, I know Perry,” the orderly was suddenly covered in sweat.

“My, you’re sweating awfully profusely,” she commented, “Did my father take off again?”

“I’m sorry?”

“My father,” she laughed, “He runs away all the time. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“I took my eyes off of him for one second and the next thing I know is he’s gone! I’m so sorry! I’m going to lose my job over this, I know it!”

“Relax, what’s your name?”

“Terry. Terry Lucas.”

“I’m Laura,” she comforted him, “You go back and tell the nurses. I’ll come with you. Don’t worry; I’m sure you’re good at what you do. I’ll vouch that you were just trying to make sure he’s safe. You go ahead and let the nurses know that my father’s on the loose again. In the meantime I’ll go home. Sometimes he just likes to visit unannounced.”

Terry walked, shoulders slumped, back to the retirement home anticipating a scolding from the nurses. Instead, he was bombarded with uproarious laughter.

“We should have let you in on it,” one nurse commented.

“But this way was much funnier,” another added.

“We’re not usually ones for hazing,” yet another informed, “but this is a pretty good way to start off your first day! Don’t worry, son. He always turns up when he says he will. Ah, look, here comes his daughter now. Hi, Laura! Your father’s at it again!”

“Hello, Eve,” she responded. “Please don’t get mad at Terry, here.”

“Mad? We were just having a little fun with the new guy.”

“Actually, I’m starting to get a little worried. I checked out all his usual haunts: my house, his old apartment, the bar down the street, the hardware store. He isn’t in any one of them!”

“Terry,” the nurse turned to the new orderly, “Did Mr. Alonso say anything to you? Did he leave any clue as to where he was headed?”

“He left this letter,” Terry took out the letter. “But I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

The nurse scanned the letter quickly, her lips quivering as she read the letter to herself. She handed it over to Laura whose worried eyes carefully scanned every character on the paper.

“I know it says he’ll be home by supper,” Laura said, worry in her voice. “But it’s not usually like him to take off without letting anyone know exactly where he’s headed. It’s my fault, I know it!”

“Honey, you can’t blame yourself,” the nurse comforted, “I’ve already called the police and sent them a picture. All we can do now is sit here and wait.” The nurse went back to her station and returned her attention to the other residents of the home

“You don’t understand,” Laura retorted. “I was angry with him last week. I- I…”

“What is it?” Terry asked.

“He forgot that today is Bobby’s, my brother’s, birthday,” she replied.

“Your father is at that age--” Terry started to say.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Laura interrupted. “Today was supposed to be his thirtieth birthday. But he died in a car crash when he was seven. I was barely three years old at the time, but I know it’s been rough on him. He never misses it, but this year he seemed to deliberately forget it. It’s as if it were some secret that he was keeping from me.”

Laura began to weep quietly to herself making a vain attempt to hide her crying. But Terry saw and reacted by reaching over and handing her the tissue box on the counter of the nurses’ station. She delicately dabbed at the corners of her eyes and sniffled to herself. Just then a little boy walked by holding a cupcake with a candle stuck on top of it. A calloused, wrinkled hand sat tenderly on the boy’s head. The hand was attached to an elderly man who smiled anxiously as he took out a lighter and lit the small candle.

“Happy birthday, Billy,” the old man said.

“Thanks grandpa!” the boy answered.

“Now make a wish and blow out the candle,” the grandfather chuckled. The little boy took a deep breath and blew with all his might. The flame went out for only a fraction of a second and came back dancing on the wick of the thin wax candle. The old man laughed heartily as did little Billy.

“That’s it!” Terry exclaimed. “Your father said he was looking for some ‘Hocus Pocus.’ When I was a little boy my uncle used to take me to this magic shop downtown. They sold all these magic tricks, books on how to do card tricks, rubber chickens, and novelty prank toys. And the best brand of trick candles like the one on that little boy’s cupcake is--”

“Hocus Pocus candles!” Laura jumped up in excitement. “That’s got to be it! I know exactly where that store is. They’ve been open forever! Come on, Terry! Two pairs of eyes are better than one!”

Laura sped her car downtown and fortunately found a parking spot just in front of the store. The two spilled out of the car and ran into the store. The glass door was heavy and rang a rusty old bell as it swung open. An older man, not Perry, stood behind the counter.

“Welcome to Hocus Pocus! I’m Jim. Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked.

“Actually, yes,” Terry approached the counter and took out a picture of Perry that he got from one of the nurses. “I’m looking for this man. Has he been in here today?”

“You just missed him,” Jim answered as he looked at the picture. “I just saw him get on the bus about five minutes before you got here. He came in for some candles and cake. I told him we don’t have cake here anymore. I have no idea where he’s headed.”

Laura walked up and down the aisles half-listening to Terry talk to Jim at the counter. She looked at all the magic decks of cards, rubber chickens, whoopee cushions, and books on the history of magic. Her eyes wandered to the wall which was plastered floor-to-ceiling with pictures. The newer pictures, close to the front door, were those of local celebrities who bought gifts for their children and nephews and nieces. As Laura walked towards the counter, she could see that the pictures got older and older as indicated by the fashion and haircuts of those in the photos. One photo made her freeze.

The boy in the picture looked about five years old, wore a striped collared shirt and a decorative pointed hat. He was on all fours climbing on top of a table. The small pink cheeks were puffed, lips pursed, eyes focused on the five candles on the large cake as the young boy tried to blow them out. A man’s hand held the boy back as if the child were going to dive face first into the cake. Laura’s eyes glided up the man’s hand to his arms and finally to his rugged face.

“Dad?” Laura didn’t know she had said it aloud.

“Did you say something, Laura?” asked Terry.

“Excuse me,” Laura took the picture off the wall and walked towards the counter, “Was this photograph taken here?”

“Why, yes!” Jim answered.

“I didn’t know you held birthday parties here,” Terry mentioned.

“Oh yeah,” Jim answered. “We would have magicians perform, we provided the cake and the decorations. But we couldn’t compete with the other places once the new millennium rolled around. People just aren’t into magic as they used to be.”

“Some people are,” Terry added.

“This is my brother,” Laura showed the two of them, “And that’s my father. I’m sorry. But is it all right if I keep this picture?” Jim smiled at her and nodded. “Come on, Terry.”

“Where are we going?”

“My dad said he’d be back once he found some ‘Hocus Pocus.’ He already bought some candles from the store so he’s bound to get back to the retirement home any time now.”

The car sped back to the retirement home and as they walked back to Perry’s room, Laura looked lovingly at the picture. Terry ran down the hallway into Mr. Alonso’s room. It was empty. The curtain was still flapping at the breeze.

“He’s not here,” Terry shouted at Laura from the room. Laura’s eyes lit up and looked beyond Terry, just down the hall.

“Of course I’m not there. I was in the cafeteria getting this cake ready,” Perry walked slowly behind Terry carrying a large cake with lighted candles arranged on top. He walked into his room, Laura followed and Terry was close behind.

“Make a wish, Laura,” the old man said, smiling. Laura bent over to blow out the candles and laughed boisterously when they refused to go out.

“This is for you, Dad,” Laura said as she handed her father the framed picture.

“I love it. It’s perfect.” Perry hugged his daughter and playfully punched Terry’s arm. The smiling, wrinkled face looked at the new orderly. With gravel in his voice, he smiled at Terry and said, “I told you that you’d do just great here!”