M's Magic Shoes

“Welp, I’m dead,” Hank muttered to himself.

“Excuse me,” someone said impatiently behind him.

He blinked and realized he had stopped dead just outside the bar. Moving aside, he looked back at his phone. He’d been checking for messages from his girlfriend, only to find a reminder from himself instead. NAT’S BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW!!!! glared up at him.

Hank had forgotten Nat’s birthday the past three years, not to mention most other holidays and occasions. She had given him an ultimatum: forget her birthday again and she’d break up with him. He had set daily alarms and reminders for the past month, telling himself to buy her a present, and he’d ignored every one of them. Now it was down to the last hour. Or, technically, two hours.

“See you Monday, Hank,” Thea called to him as she and a few of his other coworkers passed him as they left the bar. He gave a slight wave but avoided eye contact.

Hank had agreed to go out with some of his coworkers after work. Now it was after 10 PM. The streets were dark, most shops were probably closed, and he was in trouble.

Staring at his phone, he weighed his options. He could try to find some place still open where he might find a gift for Nat. Or, he could go home, like he wanted to. He didn’t really believe she’d break up with him over this. Finally, he decided he’d just go home, and instead of a present he would offer to do something nice for her, and try to make it look like he'd planned it. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

Hank let out a long sigh, tucked his phone away, and headed for his car.

He passed several dark alleyways and resisted looking down them until a bright light caught his eye. He stopped at the end of what he thought was just another empty alley. There, right in the middle, was a brightly lit shop.

As he approached, he saw that the “Open” sign was lit. “M’s Magic Shoes” was written in elegant script along the top of the entrance. The letters were written in pink on an otherwise black frame. In the shop windows were fancy women’s shoes, all high-heels. Flower bouquets and feminine decor filled the space.

This looked like the kind of place women would like, he thought.

Looking back toward the street to make sure no one saw him, he went in.

Gentle music was playing, and the store smelled perfumey. Warm lights hung above him, except for the occasional spotlight shining down on the shoes.

He approached a stack of light blue shoe boxes, where a high-heeled shoe in the same color sat on top. Hank lifted it to inspect it. It had feather details sewn into the back of the heel, and the bottom was a sparkly silver. Women like sparkles, right? He looked for a price and found a sign that read, “Areal” in fancy print, and beneath that, “Gives the wearer the power of flight.” He read it a few more times, then chuckled and put the shoe back.

Browsing through the other shoes, the magic thing was definitely a theme. He supposed it made sense, considering the shop name. He wasn’t into fantasy magic crap, but he was pretty sure Nat was. She’d probably love this place.

Another blue shoe, this one a deeper shade, like the ocean, caught his eye. It was decorated with sequins that seemed intended to resemble fish scales. “Aquarine,” these were called, “Transforms the wearer into a merperson when worn underwater.” 

“Sweet,” Hank drawled aloud, chuckling to himself again.

The shoes seemed to be good quality, and they were pretty, in his opinion. Not that he was an expert in women’s shoes.

He continued, amusing himself with the names and the supposed “powers” each shoe possessed. A red shoe that gives the wearer the ability to detect lies. A dark purple one that gives the wearer the ability to become invisible as desired. A golden-yellow shoe that gives the wearer good fortune.

He stopped in front of a shoe that was such a dark blue it was almost black. It was decorated with circles sewn into the dark material in shiny colors. “Gives the wearer the ability to travel anywhere in the world. Only works for a single two-way trip,” he read aloud. “I think that’s what I would want,” he mused.

“Can I help you find something?” A woman’s voice right behind him made him jump. She was his height, at least in her sky-high red heels, and wearing a knee-length, tightly fitted, deep emerald dress. Her lips matched her shoes, and her eyes matched her dress. And Hank realized he was staring.

Swallowing, he said, “I’m looking for a gift for my girlfriend.”

“Of course you are,” she replied, then turned and headed further into the store. He followed her, assuming she intended to show him something.

“My name is Merrilyn,” she said with her back still to him, looking over her shoulder through her long, brown hair.

“Oh, is that what the ‘M’ in the store name is for?”

“No.”

He frowned, certain she was messing with him.

She stopped about halfway through the store and turned to him. “Does your girlfriend have a favorite color? Or a certain power she’d be interested in?”

Hank didn’t know the answer to either of those questions.

“Yeah, what’s the deal with the magical powers gimmick?” he smiled expectantly. 

“Gimmick?” she asked, no trace of amusement in her expression.

He watched her a moment longer, waiting for her to break, then gave up.

“Um. Ok, well I don’t know about magic,” he smirked again as he said it. Eyeing a shoe to his left, he said, “I think she likes pink.”

Merrilyn picked the pink shoe up and held it out to him. He took it from her and considered it.

“Luxe. She enhances the wearer’s appearance,” she told him.

Nat would look good in these, he thought. He was pretty sure she liked pink. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her in something, trying hard to remember what colors she usually wore. Was pink more of a color for blondes? Nat was brunette. He could remember Thea wearing pink, but not Nat.

Maybe not pink.

Hank handed the shoe back to Merrilyn, and she placed it on top of its stack of boxes.

He continued inspecting the shoes around him, considering what colors Nat might like and trying to picture her in them.

Merrilyn took a few steps toward him, and he froze, watching her as she got close to him. She smelled herbal and fruity. She reached past him, then handed him a black shoe, saying, “If you aren’t sure what color she likes, black is always a classic. A simple, practical color that goes with most anything.”

Simple. Practical. That sounded like Nat.

“I’m not sure what size she wears,” he muttered as he turned the shoe over in his hands, searching for a size.

“They’ll fit.”

“Ha,” Hank looked up at Merrilyn again, who only blinked. “They do seem to be about her size,” he admitted as he turned the shoe over a few more times. It was made from a smooth, shiny material, and the bottoms were also black, but sparkly. Not a colorful choice, but still pretty, or at least he thought so.

Hank turned to look at the boxes for the black shoes. They were the darkest shade of black he’d ever seen. The sign read “Mystery,” and no power was listed under this one.

He felt stupid, but he had to ask, “What’s the magic power for these?”

Merrilyn grinned now, surprising Hank. “Their power is a mystery. She won’t know until she puts them on.”

“Huh,” he said, “How much are they?”

“Two hundred.”

Hank’s jaw dropped, and he scoffed, but he honestly had no idea how much women’s shoes usually cost. And he was out of options; he could either buy her a pair of shoes or risk facing her wrath if he went home empty-handed.

“Do you have gift wrapping?”

*  * *

The next morning Hank found Nat in the kitchen, making breakfast.

“Happy birthday,” he said as he approached. He eyed her, trying to judge what mood she was in.

She smiled and turned to him, accepting his kiss.

“Thank you,” she said, then returned to the omelet she was working on.

“Sorry, I wanted to make you breakfast. I guess I was out a little too late,” he said, with a grimace.

“That’s ok.”

He sat at the table and pulled his phone out. His foot brushed something under his chair, and he looked down to see a gift bag sitting there. He’d almost forgotten about it. The bag was silver with pink ribbons and tissue paper.

As Nat handed him a plate, he placed the gift bag in front of her on the table with a grin.

Her jaw dropped, then she smiled. “What’s this?” she asked as she sifted through the tissue.

He waggled his eyebrows.

“This is such pretty wrapping.” She pulled the black box out. “Shoes?” she asked, her brows raised, but she was still smiling.

Hank hesitated, wondering for a moment if he’d made a mistake.

She opened the box and gushed, “These are beautiful,” as she pulled them out.

He let out a breath and relaxed.

“Where did you get these?”

“M’s Magic Shoes,” he embellished as he said the name.

She quirked a brow and grinned, “Magic, huh?”

He smirked, “Yeah, I thought it was a pretty fun gimmick, too.”

Nat reached down and slipped one of the shoes onto her foot. “It fits perfectly.”

She put on the other shoe, then stood on them together, working her feet to get a feel for them. “They’re actually comfortable. That must be the magic,” she mused.

Then she looked back in the box, and her brows knit. She reached in and pulled out a black envelope. “I didn’t notice this. ‘Instructions’?” she read the word from the envelope, written in silver. She gave him a questioning look.

Hank shrugged.

Opening the envelope, she read the instructions aloud, “This mystery pair gives the wearer the power which is most useful in the moment, until the magic runs out. Return to ‘M’s Magic Shoes’ for a refill. Refills are one hundred dollars.” Nat and Hank shared a look. “I love it. But they are definitely going to get sued for false advertising by someone,” she laughed.

“I know, right?”

“Where is this place?”

Hank stopped himself before telling her it was around the corner from the bar he was at last night. “It was just downtown. It looked brand new.”

She hummed, inspecting the shoes and the box one more time, before removing them and packing them away. “Well, I look forward to wearing them.”

“Lucky for you, I’m taking you out for dinner tonight.”

“Ooh, where at?”

“It’s a surprise,” he winked.

As she left to put her shoes away, Hank snuck out back to make the reservation.

* * *

Nat was all smiles as she came down the stairs, where Hank waited. She was wearing the shoes he bought her with a fitted purple dress, and her hair was down and curled. She did a pose at the base of the stairs.

“You look beautiful,” he said, kissing her.

“Thank you for the shoes,” she said, holding him there, “I love them.”

“You’re welcome. I’m happy you like them.”

He held the door open for her, then followed behind. He noticed the dress she was wearing seemed a little tight in the back, and he wondered if she had gained some weight.

Nat stopped and turned back to him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Did you say something?” she asked him.

Hank shook his head, confused.

Nat looked thoughtful another moment, shrugged, and continued to the car.

* * *

Hank had lucked out and gotten reservations at his favorite fancy restaurant. They approached the hostess, and she smiled at them. She was young and red-haired, wearing a tight, short black dress. He remembered the old rumor he had heard about redheads and wondered if it was true.

Nat looked sideways at him. Hank noticed and looked at her. “What?” he asked.

She frowned. “Nothing.”

“Reservation for Johnson,” he told the hostess.

They were seated at a booth in a corner of the restaurant. Nat and Hank both remarked that it was a good spot, farther away from the door, and gave them some privacy. Nat smiled at him, and Hank thought she looked happy. Nat smiled wider.

“I’m Anna. I’ll be serving you today,” a blonde waitress said as she handed them menus. “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Hank had to do a double-take; for a moment he almost thought it was Thea. She looked a lot like her. Though he thought Thea was a little prettier, and even sexier.

Nat turned her head sharply and looked at Hank again, which startled him.

“What? Is something wrong?” he asked, looking around the table.

After watching him for a few moments with a frown, she seemed to relax again. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

He shrugged. They ordered drinks, then browsed the food menu as the waitress left to get them.

Hank tried to remember what Thea had ordered last time; he remembered it looked good.

Nat slammed her menu down, and Hank jumped.

“Ok,” she said, her voice raised, “Who is Thea?”

Hank shushed her, looking around at the other tables. “Keep your voice down.” He was sweating a little bit and scratched his forehead to try to hide it. How did she know about Thea?

Her nostrils flared.

“I have a coworker named Thea. What about her?” he said, as casually as he could.

“Clearly you think she’s sexy. In fact, I’d say you think about her a lot.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even find her attractive. You’re being weirdly paranoid.”

Nat crossed her arms and glared at him.

“What?” he asked again. “Why would you think that I think she’s sexy? She’s just a coworker. It’s totally professional.”

She just kept staring at him, giving him a meaningful look he couldn’t read.

Hank was beginning to panic. Did Thea talk to Nat? Did she rat him out?

Nat groaned and shot up from the table.

Hank also jumped up, defensively. “Calm down. What is going on with you?” Looking around at the other tables, he added in a whisper, “You’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care. Tell me what is going on with you and Thea right now!” she shouted, stomping her foot at the same time.

“I slept with her,” he blurted, then slapped his hands over his mouth.

Nat’s eyes flared, her face turned red.

“I mean,” Hank stumbled, searching for words, “It was just the one time. It meant nothing.”

He reached for her, but she pulled away.

“I can’t believe you,” she growled, then turned away from him. “I’m going home.”

As she said it, she stepped forward, and the entire restaurant gasped.

Everyone looked at each other, and at Hank, as if they all were thinking the same thing he was. Am I crazy, or did she just disappear?

* * *

Hank took his time getting home. He was replaying the night in his head over and over, trying to make sense of what had happened. He had a feeling that Nat was already back home, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

When he arrived home, his suspicions were confirmed, as he found that she had thrown his stuff all over the front porch.

He approached slowly and stopped in front of the door. He knew the safest thing to do would be to leave and wait until she’d calmed down before trying to talk to her. There was just something he really needed to say first. He raised his hand to knock, then hesitated again. He let out a deep breath, then knocked.

The door stayed shut, and he didn’t hear anything. He had a key, but he didn’t want to anger her any more than he had.

After a few moments of waiting, he knocked again. Still no response.

He sighed, then called out hesitantly, “Can I at least have the shoes back?”

The door opened suddenly, and he stepped back, hands up in a placating gesture.

He saw that Nat’s makeup had been running, and her eyes were puffy. She was still wearing the shoes.

“I-” he started. Before he could finish the sentence, Nat stepped forward and kicked him between the legs. He wasn’t expecting it, and didn’t guard himself. He collapsed onto the porch as the door slammed shut again.

Hank lay there gasping and breathing hard, but he realized it wasn’t hurting as much as he expected. He stood up and shook his head. After watching the door a moment longer, he gave up, grabbed a pile of his clothes and headed for the car.

He stopped suddenly, dropping his things on the pathway. His heart racing, he felt around his pants at the crotch, feeling for something that should be there, but wasn’t.

He dropped to his knees and screamed.

Nat watched him from the window, a wicked smile on her face.