Miss Shumway Waves A Wand

Myra flicked her fingers in his direction and almost immediately he stiffened. “Gawd!” he said looking up at the ceiling. “It is raining!”

“Didn’t I tell you,” the Irish cop said feverishly. “I think I’ll get out of here.”

This intrigued me. Over each patrolman and Clancy I could see a light sprinkle of water falling. It didn’t come from the ceiling but seemed to start a few feet above them.

As they moved uneasily the shower of water followed them. It was the damnedest thing I’d ever seen.

“Are you doing this?” I whispered to Myra.

“Certainly,” she said. “Didn’t you know I could make rain? It’s an old Naguale custom.” She suddenly spied the red-head who was sitting up in a dazed kind of way. “And a little rain might improve that young woman’s complexion,” she went on grimly.

She flicked her fingers in the red-head’s direction.

There was no question of a sprinkle of water this time. It began to rain in torrents. The redhead screamed wildly and getting to her feet, she dashed round the room. The narrow ribbon of pouring water followed her ruthlessly. In a few seconds she was soaked to the skin.

“I think that will do,” Myra said, looking pleased. “She’s not nearly so attractive, is she?” Right now the red-head looked like something that’d got lost in a river.

“You’re right,” I said, wondering if I was losing my mind. Myra flicked her fingers and the rain stopped.

The cops and Clancy began mopping themselves with their handkerchiefs. The red-head lay on the floor and drummed hysterically with her heels.

“If there’s any more talk about wagons,” Myra said coldly, “it’ll begin raining again.”

“Do what you like, lady,” Clancy said brokenly. “I ain’t making trouble.”

Myra resumed her suspended position. “Push me through the streets,” she said to me. “All the way to police headquarters. Then we’ll have lots of witnesses, won’t we?”

As I began to push her to the door again, Sam Bogle entered the shop.

One look was enough to see that Sam had been hitting the bottle. He didn’t look at any of us except Myra.

“Don’t think you’re getting away with it,” he said. “Doc was a pal of mine and no jury can kill a pal of mine and get away with it.”

We were all so startled that no one moved. Myra lowered her feet to the floor and faced him.

“I didn’t kill him,” she said quietly. “You ought to know that, Sam.”

“You killed him all right,” Sam said, his eyes gleaming evilly.

“Well, this is where you get yours.”

“Look out!” Whisky shouted and sprang forward.

He was too late. Sam fired from his hip. I saw the flash from the gun. Myra took two tottering steps forward. Then she spread out on the floor.

No one could do anything but stare. Sam let the gun slide out of his hand.

Then I ran to Myra. As I bent over her, I heard Sam’s voice wailing.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” he kept saying “Honest to Gawd, I didn’t mean to do it.”

I went into the little room with Whisky.

Myra was lying flat. She looked small and white and just to see her turned my heart over.

I sat down and took her hand.

She opened her eyes. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said.

Whisky pushed his long muzzle on the bed. She touched his ears for a moment before turning to me again.

“There was no one big enough to keep me out,” I said, trying to smile. “Please get well, sweetheart, I can’t get along without you.”

“I’ll get well,” she said, “only, I’m tired. I’ll be better when I’ve had some sleep. I don’t want to stay awake any more.”

“Listen, kid, the doctor says you’re not trying,” I went on, stroking her wrist, “you must fight. There’s Whisky and me wanting you. You can’t pass us up.”

“It’s awfully hard,” she said drowsily. “I have only half my resistance. If my other half were here I know I’d be all right.”

Then I realized why she couldn’t get well. She had to have Arym to help her fight. Before I could say anything, a nurse came in and beckoned to me.

I petted Myra’s hand. “I’ll be back,” I said. “Promise you’ll wait for me.”

She kept her eyes open with an effort. “Come back soon,” she said urgently.

I went out into the hall again.

Summers said, “She’s pretty bad, isn’t she?”

“I guess so,” I returned. “Can I take a walk around the block! This place gives me a pain.”

“Sure,” he said sympathetically, “I know how you feel.”

I went over to Bogle. “Cheer up,” I said, “I’m doing all I can for her.”

Sam had tears in his eyes. “I don’t know why I did it,” he said miserably. “I guess I was crazy.”

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. “I know how you felt about Doc. He meant as much to you as Myra does to me.

I’d have done the same thing in your place.”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t have hurt her for anything, but I got good and mad.”

There was nothing I could say to him that’d do any good, so I left him and went out into the street.

“Whisky,” I said, “we’re going after Arym. She’s the only one who can save Myra.”

“How can she help her?” Whisky asked hopelessly.