Category and Genre: Literary Fiction/Magical Realism
Word Count: 70K
A FOREST GUMP meets PRACTICAL MAGIC tale.
Most everyone in the family calls Dylan “slow.” Worse, his abusive mother claims he’s wicked. But Dylan has magic, and can spin marbles from oysters and whip up Chicken Alfredo by tapping his thumbs together. The only one to appreciate his magical abilities is his loving uncle and caretaker, a disabled Vietnam veteran. When Uncle Jim dies, Dylan is torn from the home he loves and placed in an adult boarding house. There he meets an equally gifted but troubled young lady named Liona.
Dylan finds a friend in Liona, and finally settles into his new life when a tragic accident drives him away. His only refuge now is the beach and the oyster beds. His old Vietnamese friend, Tim Lan, offers him a room in his shanty in exchange for his magically-made pearls. Dylan is tormented by the suspect requests of Tim Lan and muddled by his feelings for Liona. His nightmare ensues when his mother, who had once washed her hands of him, returns to exploit his gifts. Through his troubles, Dylan must find truth, and the courage to walk his own path.
By the time I was eighteen I didn’t care what Aunt Agnes said about me.
“He doesn’t connect the dots right,” she complained to everyone at my graduation party. “He can’t carry on a civil conversation. In fact, I don’t know if he is past the third-grade level of reading.”
I rolled my eyes, but Uncle Jim got mad. By the time we got home, Uncle Jim’s face was red and I swear he foamed at the mouth like a rabid dog. “He’s smart enough to finish high school, with decent grades to boot. So don’t you be talking him down.” Uncle Jim rolled his wheel chair into the house, threw his baseball cap on the couch, and grumbled something fierce, steering his chair through the litter in our living room. I appreciated his support, but I didn’t like him yelling. I dodged into the kitchen and waited for Aunt Agnes to leave.
I was happy enough. I had all I needed – a life with Uncle Jim in our little house at Windy Point. Best of all I had magic. I knew that someday that magic would make me a famous chef.
The sea empowered me. All I had to do was close my eyes and imagine the foamy surf splashing over the oyster beds, and then think of the water gliding gracefully down the beach, leaving imprints of its ripples in the sand. If I meditated long enough, the power flowed into me and tingled my left side.