I stared at the stranger. "Youknow. The guy you were just talking to."
Finally, his expression cleared. "Oh, you mean Murph."
Murph? As in Murphy?I recalled the package on Drake's porch. "Uh, yeah. I guess."
The guy chuckled. "Funny, I forgot about the Drake thing."
"The Drake thing?" A queasy feeling settled in my stomach. "What's that?"
The guy shrugged. "Eh, you know. Different names, different times…Murph and I go way back."
"Howfar back?"
"Junior High." The guy grinned. "I was there for his first arrest. Man, wasthata trip."
"Hisfirstarrest?" I gave a hard swallow. "Are you serious?"
The guy froze. "Wait, you didn't know?"
My heart was suddenly hammering. "Know what?"
Now, the guy looked seriously panicked. "Nothing." He lifted his staff. "This thing's not real. You know that, right?"
What the heck?"Of course."
He gave it a nudge in my direction. "So why won't you hold it?"
Nice try, Wizard Man."Why won'tyoutell me about the arrest?"
He glanced around. "What arrest?"
Oh, for crying out loud."You said Drake was arrested."
"Drake who?"
I glared at the guy. "I know you're giving me the runaround."
"No, I’mtryingto give you a coat." His tone grew accusing. "Butyouwon't hold the staff."
With a sound of frustration, I snatched the staff out of his grip and said, "There. You happy?"
"Not really," he grumbled, dropping his Santa sack between us. "Murph's gonna kill me." Still muttering, he reached into the sack and pulled out a shimmering blue something-or-other wrapped in shiny clear plastic. He thrust the package toward me and said, "Here."
I made no move to take it. "What's that?"
"A coat, just like I said."
I looked down. On the front of the packaging, I saw a raven-haired woman wearing a long, shimmering cloak complete with an oversized hood, pushed slightly back to show off her pointy ears. "You mean a cloak? Like, for an elf?" I glanced down to scan the package.Elf ears included. What the heck?
The guy sighed. "What, you don't like the color? I've also got purple or green. You can take your pick."
I gave him a look. "It's not the color of the cloak that's bothering me."
"What, you wanna be a wizard?" He bent down and began rooting around in the bag. "Don't worry, I've got that, too."
Oh, I was worried alright. "I don't want to be anything," I told him. "I just want the truth."
The guy stopped rooting, stood upright, and flung the bag over his shoulder. "Uh, yeah. Right." And then, like a viper, he snatched the staff out of my hand and blurted out, "Well, nice meeting you." And with that, he turned and bolted into the crowd.
