The Miracle Tour

The next three days were a masterclass in unintended consequences.

Thalia’s brand of magic was not precise. It was, as she put it, "jazz."

On Monday, they went to the Golden Gate Park. Leo needed to clear his head before a big project deadline, and Thalia wanted to "commune with nature."

"Watch this," Thalia whispered, hiding behind a eucalyptus tree. "See that man running for the bus? I shall grant him speed."

She snapped her fingers.

The man didn't speed up. Instead, the bus’s engine sputtered and died. The doors hissed open. The man caught the bus, but now the bus wasn't going anywhere.

"He caught it!" Thalia cheered.

"Yeah, and now forty people are late for work," Leo pointed out.

"But they are together," Thalia said serenely. "Maybe two of them will fall in love while waiting for the tow truck. Serendipity, Leo. Look at the big picture."

On Tuesday, they were walking down Market Street.

"I need money for rent," Leo muttered, checking his bank balance on his phone. "My client is late with the deposit."

"Say no more," Thalia winked.

A gust of wind tore a lottery ticket out of a woman’s hand three blocks away. It fluttered through the air, danced over the trolley wires, and slapped Leo directly in the face.

Leo peeled it off. "No way."

"Check it!" Thalia squealed.

Leo pulled up the numbers. It was a winner. Five thousand dollars.

"You did it," Leo said, actually smiling. "Thalia, you actually—"

Another gust of wind, stronger this time—perhaps divinely provoked by a jealous wind god—ripped the ticket from Leo’s hand. It flew straight up, over a construction fence, and into a wet cement mixer.

Leo watched it sink into the grey sludge.

He looked at Thalia.

Thalia looked at the cement mixer. "Well," she said. "At least the sidewalk will be valuable?"

Leo started to laugh. He couldn't help it. It was so absurd, so perfectly *him*.

"You're terrible at this," Leo wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye.

"I am rusty!" Thalia defended, crossing her arms. "And your bad luck is very potent. It is like a force field of doom."

"Let's get pizza," Leo said, putting an arm around her shoulders. He surprised himself with the gesture. "I can't pay for it with lottery winnings, but I have a coupon."

They sat in a booth at *Tony’s Slice House* in the North Beach district. Thalia had never had pizza. Watching her eat it was like watching a religious experience.

"The cheese," she whispered, pulling a long string of mozzarella from her mouth. "It stretches. It is elastic gold."

"It's grease and dairy, Thalia."

"It is magic," she corrected. She looked at him, her eyes bright. "You humans. You have no powers. You get sick. You age. Gravity pulls you down constantly. And yet..." She gestured to the crowded restaurant, the noise, the smell of garlic. "You make this. You make art. You keep going. It is... fascinating."

Leo looked at her. She had tomato sauce on her chin. She was glowing, just a little, in the dim light.

"We have to make our own luck," Leo said softly. "That's the gig."

"I think," Thalia said, reaching for another slice, "I like your gig."

Leo felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the pizza. He glanced at her wrist. The Divinity Meter flickered. The dull metal pulsed with a faint, heartbeat-like glow.

"It's working," Thalia whispered. "You are hoping."

"I'm hoping you don't eat my slice," Leo deflected, but he didn't pull his arm away.

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