Trust the Magic

Also by Marilyn Ludwig

Searching for Juliette

(2015)

Lots of characters, both giving and politically conniving— innocent and dangerous. Good stories, skillfully interwoven. Complex. I was always happy to get back to reading it.—Sandra Duguid, author of Pails Scrubbed Silver

Finally, a novel for young adults that respects its readers’ intelligence. Ludwig provides a fascinating mix of history, politics, and language, all while unfolding an intricately wrought plot. Searching for Juliette will keep you guessing and (most importantly) make you think, in addition to being a rollicking good tale. —Susan O’Byrne, author of Stephen King and the Monstrous Mother from A Casebook on Stephen King’s IT

Haste Ye Back

(2015)

In the rapidly growing genre of YA books, Marilyn Ludwig’s mystery novels stand out for their fast-pace and great writing. Haste Ye Back is set in the British Isles and the flavor of the country is on every page, enticing the reader to want to see for herself. This is the perfect book selection for any reader, any traveler, of any age. I know I’ll slip Ms. Ludwig’s next book in my carry-on bag! —Melinda Morris Perrin, author of Prairie Smoke, Goldenrods, and Winterberries Marilyn Ludwig writes with love—love of the English language, love of youth, love for drama, and love for the cultural and historical landscape in which she places her stories and characters. Haste Ye Back is her newest book of page-turning suspense set in England and Scotland, and it is a feast of love! Marilyn has stored up many stories to tell, and I am so happy she is at last putting them down on paper to share with her readers. I look forward to her next book to add to the growing ‘Marilyn Ludwig Collection’ in my personal library. —Susan Throckmorton, author of The Humply Rumply Beast: Poems and Papercuts, and They’ll Be Back!

The Secret of Kendall Mountain

(2016)

"Marilyn Ludwig’s The Secret of Kendall MOUNTAIN is an exciting adventure novel set on a special train in Colorado’s avalanche country, enjoyable and relevant to both young readers and adults. Ludwig's prose is fast-moving and easy to read, and her knowledge of the thoughts and emotions of teens and their families insightful. This novel will keep readers engrossed in an adventure in which the suspense does not stop until its dramatic conclusion." —Mardelle Fortier, Instructor at College of DuPage and author of White Fire and many poems and short stories.

"The Secret of Kendall Mountain is a wonderful story that readers of all ages will enjoy.  The young heroes, who are quite believable and relatable, are called upon to perform a daring rescue and solve a lingering mystery against the backdrop of avalanche season in the Colorado mountains.  The setting is beautifully described, and the suspenseful tale is well-told and sure to satisfy." —Mike Manolakes, author of Variation Seven, Strange Times, Living in the Future, and Dying in the Past

It’s Perfectly Safe . . . The Rulison Matter

(2016)

"Marilyn Ludwig's stories have delighted me for over a decade, but the newest book It's Perfectly Safe actually kept me up late reading (into the morning!) during a season I work seven days a week and that's a feat for any author. This historical fiction work has captured an event that many, including those of us who lived in the western U.S. at the time, had never heard about. Kudos to Marilyn for keeping the astounding use of an atomic bomb in our consciousness, and doing so with characters who arouse our curiosity, empathy, and who keep us turning the pages until we find out if they are safe." —Deb Wayman, owner Fair Isle Books, Washington Island, WI

"It's Perfectly Safe is a young adult novel based on atomic bomb tests of the Cold War era. Those tests resonate to contemporary fracking concerns. Marilyn Ludwig draws on early childhood memories to illuminate a landscape of mid-century isolated small towns in the Colorado mountains. At the center of the story is a fledgling teacher with two mysteries to unravel: one from her childhood and another forming the quick moving plot. The mysteries converge in a clever and exciting resolution. A reader quickly experiences a vivid sense of place, as well as a young woman's sense of self. This novel surpasses its young adult genre to appeal to readers who remember the 1950s and 60s, of which Marilyn Ludwig's description and details hit the mark." —Edward Searl, author of A Place of Your Own, Around the Delaware Arc, and the five-book series, A Treasury of Poems, Quotations, and Readings, among others

For Fran Sammis, who allowed me to play tour guide and show her around My Island. From the North Cape to the East Point Light we traveled, earning our ribbons and certificates while having mini adventures. Thanks for the years of constant encouragement.

For the generous, warm-hearted people of Prince Edward Island, who always greet me with Welcome Home each time I return.

And always for Nancy.

Kindred spirits, all!

Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think.

It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.

—Lucy Maud Montgomery

Chapter 1

Is that you, Susan Olympia?

Susan cringed, as she did every time she heard her middle name. Yes, Great Aunt Olympia.

Come closer, child, next to the bed.

She obeyed, determined not to look at the old woman, with her face covered with brown leathery spots and thin purple veins. The small amount of hair she had left stuck straight up, held by a rubber band, to keep it clear of the food that too often missed her mouth. Everything about her and the room smelled bad, like the manure Dad spread in the flowerbeds each spring. Susan would rather be anywhere than in this dark, airless room—the dentist’s chair, the front seat in math class—anywhere but the Shady Oaks Home for the Elderly.

How old are you now, Susan Olympia? Her great great aunt grabbed Susan’s hand with her own spider-like version and asked the same question she asked every month.

At least the answer would be different this time. Fourteen tomorrow, on graduation day.

Ah, graduation . . . From junior high?

Yes, only we call it middle school.

She fingered Susan’s short curls while Susan clenched her teeth, preparing for what would surely come next. After a raspy cackle, Just like mine. Yellow corkscrews, and not a thing you can do about it.

Well, there was something she could do if Mom would only let her have it straightened, and she’d do it without permission as soon as she got older.  Great Aunt Olympia always said she had looked just like Susan once. Did that mean . . . No way! I’m never going to look like you. I’m never going to be that old.

Will you have a vacation now that school is over, Susan Olympia? The question, coming after a long silence, caused Susan to jump.

I guess. We’ll probably go to Clear Lake for a few weeks. We always do.

Wouldn’t you rather travel? The voice became intense. Don’t you want different scenes, exciting adventures?

I guess so—someday. The only thing adults did was ask questions.

Suddenly, the old woman raised herself on one elbow and stared straight at Susan. Her watery eyes were no longer their usual slits. They were wide open—huge and dark. Susan had the creepiest feeling that they saw something or someone else.

Do you believe in magic, Susan Olympia?

You mean like magic tricks? A magician came to our school. That was cool, especially when he made Tim disappear. Tim Webster was the plague of her existence.

"Not trickery, or illusion, or sleight-of-hand. I mean—Magic. Do you believe?"

I guess I’ve never seen any. She glared at the clock on the bedside table, willing the visit to end.

You don’t see magic—you feel it. Exhausted, panting as if she had blown up a tiny balloon, Great Aunt Olympia lowered herself to her pillow. She barely whispered her next words, and Susan had to lean close to hear.

Trust the magic, child. Learn to trust the magic.

Well, that was weird, Susan thought as she left the room. At least it wouldn’t be her turn to visit for another month. She’d better tell Mom her great aunt was losing it. All that stuff about magic . . . She was too deep in thought to notice she had turned the wrong way down the corridor. Where was she? Certainly it wasn’t possible to get lost in a hospital she had visited for years. But she’d ask for help for there at the end of the hall stood a girl perhaps her age—although taller, with glorious long brown wavy hair and a flawless complexion that filled Susan with envy. As she grew closer, though, Susan noticed that the girl’s eyes were . . . well . . . creepy. Pale and vacant and expressionless, they seemed to look right through her. Can you help . . . Susan began, but the strange girl lifted her arm and pointed in the direction Susan had just come. Go back, she mouthed, without making a sound.

Go back where? To Great Aunt Olympia’s room? I don’t want to.

The girl stepped closer and pointed again. Go back, she repeated, this time in a breathy, barely audible voice that managed to be frightening. Susan turned and fled.

The hospital must have a mental ward. If she didn’t start paying more attention to what she was doing, she’d end up there, too. She took a quick peek back over her shoulder, but the girl had vanished. Odd, the corridor suddenly looked completely different. Susan shrugged. Only her imagination, she guessed.

Susan Olympia Slade, the president of the Board of Education boomed, setting off another round of feedback, causing the audience to cover its ears. Susan, who had been patiently waiting for him to reach the letter S, stretched her feet, waking them from their nap in higher-heels-than-usual shoes, before staggering toward the podium.

SOS. There goes Trouble, Tim hissed, while his buddies snorted in approval. Susan stuck out her tongue, forgetting the hundreds of people watching. She walked regally the rest of the way but shook the principal’s hand too hard and dropped her 8th grade certificate. Somehow, she managed to return to her seat without further incident.

Forgetting her embarrassment, Susan beamed. She was a high school student now. Surely high school students were too mature for childish nicknames.  Do you know what my initials stand for? she asked her parents way back in 4th grade. SOS. That’s a distress signal. The kids at school call me Trouble.

We’re sorry, dear, her mother had said. We didn’t consider initials. You were named Susan after your father’s mother and Olympia after my great aunt. Don’t worry about the teasing. They’ll soon move on to someone else.

Her father had been less sympathetic. Well, if you weren’t such an advertisement for your initials . . .

Susan thought his comment cruel but accurate, and SOS—Here Comes Trouble had stuck. This year was the worst. A sliced finger instead of a carved pumpkin, the gravy boat dumped onto the Thanksgiving pie, the open jar of paint that slipped through her hands all over the 8th grade entries for the Spring Arts Festival, it had been an SOS year all the way.

She sighed, remembering a conversation she wasn’t supposed to hear. She’s a skittish colt, Dad complained. How will she ever manage high school?

Mom agreed. She seems so immature, compared to the other girls in her class, although they are all quite silly.

I will change, she resolved in a whisper. I’ll make them happy with me—someday.

There. The principal had come to Keith Zemel. Graduation was over.

You made it across the stage without falling, Ben, her sixteen-year-old brother, said. Congratulations.

Uncle Fred gave her a sloppy kiss, but Aunt Beatrice just scolded. Aunt Bea always scolded. Did you have to stick out your tongue, dear? I’m sure I caught it on video.

You caught her tongue? I thought the cat was supposed to catch the tongue. Uncle Fred never remembered that his elegant wife had no sense of humor.

Susan didn’t wait for her aunt’s retort. She pushed through the crowd to receive her parents’ flowers and hugs. She’d done well, they said. She tried hard, her grades were respectable, and they were proud of her. She hoped they meant