The Candy Bar is in an old part of South Beach, and it was an old Spanish mission, sitting on an ancient Indian burial ground. Or so legend has it.
All I know for certain is that my eyes drew to the chief, just as the lights began to flicker, and the brick wall behind the bar began to sweat. Candy yelled to her customers, “Magic is in the air—be careful what you wish for.” Then she gave a huge laugh.
I couldn’t look away from the chief with the big mustache and the adorable beer belly. We locked eyes, and for some reason, I couldn’t break free. My heart raced. My palms grew damp. Blood rushed to my head, and my toes tingled.
Personally, I’d never experienced the magic surrounding this place, and I didn’t want to either. I was very content with my life, except for the little fact that I needed money to pay my medical bills. The cancer treatments had eaten my savings and put me in serious debt. That’s all I wanted, just to stay healthy and get out of this financial hole. Nevertheless, I found myself wishing for more.
I wanted to be a really good singer, become a nationally acclaimed recording star, sing at sold-out concerts, and hand out awards on Grammy night. Since I was wishing for things unlikely to happen, I decided to make the most of it by wishing to have a wild fling with a hot guy on my road to success. That’s all I remember. A bright light appeared as I continued gazing at the middle-aged firefighter. He looked dazed too. I felt my body start to hum, my insides heat up, and energy zap me from head to toe. I’d been around the Candy Bar long enough to know that I’d been touched by magic. I was really in for it now.
John Hanley What the hell? Rotating my shoulder muscles, I tried to shake off whatever the fuck was happening. My eyes stared at some dame, and for the life of me, I couldn’t look away. Magic, my ass. But there was definitely something weird going down. Felt like somebody decided to do a highland fling over my grave.
My entire body had chills then caught fire as my eyes locked with the woman on stage. What did she call herself? Frannie May. Wasn’t that a mortgage company or some damn thing? I watched her mouth drop open and slam shut a few times-like some kind of cute guppy. Her cheeks grew rosy, her eyes sparkled so damn bright I was temporarily blinded, unable to see anything but her. The entire bar faded in the background.
I heard lightning strike the old tiled roof and worried the centuries old building might go up in flames. Half my crew was shit-faced right now. Not that the fire hall was unmanned but if this place went up in flames, none of the guys here would be sitting on their dicks. Myself included. “Hey, Chief. You okay?” Brett asked. “You look kind of shaken.”
Rubbing a hand over my face, I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. “Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t know what came over me. Felt the chills. Maybe I’m coming down with something.” Brett laughed. “Well, you know what they say about this place. It sits on an ancient burial site. Maybe you stirred some old ghosts.” He wriggled his fingers in front of my face. “Ooohh. They’re coming to get you.” “Don’t be stupid. How many shots have you had?”
Brett ignored the question and continued to bait me. “Or maybe there really is some magic shit and you got caught up in it. Hope not, it’ll change your life forever.”