Excerpt: The 25-Hour One Stop Magic Shop

I passed by the counter just as the old man came out from behind the counter, and asked, "So, when is this magic shop supposed to make its move or whatever?"

The old man just gave me that look again. "It 'made its move' nearly five minutes ago."

I stared at him. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Are you saying you didn't notice?"

"No, I didn't," I said. "Why, is there supposed to be an earthquake, or a temporary blackout or something?"

"It's not that blatant," the old man said. He shook his head. "It's probably just a failing in your sensitivity."

"Fine, whatever," I said. "So where are we now?"

The old man shrugged. "Look outside and see."

I stared at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he was playing some joke on me. I still wasn't quite sure the whole situation wasn't an elaborate joke, really. It was entirely possible I'd go back out that door, and just see Sweden again, and then the old guy would laugh at my gullibility. Never mind that that still wouldn't explain how we got to Sweden in the first place.

Well, the only thing I could do was call his bluff. And maybe it was really magic, and I'd look out onto my own street corner, or someplace recognizeable. Arkansas, maybe, or Colorado. Even Texas would be okay. I went to the front door, opened it, and looked out. I closed the door, rubbed my eyes a few times, then opened the door again. I looked up, left, right, and straight ahead. Then I closed the door again and went back to the old man.

"Is the sun out?" the old man asked.

"Yes, it is," I said. "It's a lovely shade of green."

"Wonderful," the old man said.

"Where on Earth is the sun ever green?" I said.

"Nowhere on Earth, of course," the old man replied. "We're obviously on the OtherSide."

"Well, that explains the giant penguins, then."

"Penguins? We must be in the Freemarket. Excellent, I've been needing some more supplies." The old man jotted something down on his clipboard and scratched his nose. "Running a bit short on adamantium, but the penguins' prices are so exorbitant..."

I clenched my fists. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I distinctly recall telling you that there was no telling where we would end up next," the old man snapped.

"I thought you meant anywhere in the world. You never said anything about other worlds!"

"It's your own fault for assuming there's only one world to go to," the old man said.

"Well, why would I assume--- gahh." I sank down to the floor and held my head in my hands. "Fine, I'm an idiot for not assuming that a magic travelling shop could go to any world it freaking wants to, and I'm totally screwed. There, you happy?"

The old man sighed, I could only assume in exasperation. "For what it's worth, there's not an infinite number of worlds. It's generally a 50-50 chance of going either to Earth or... somewhere else. So your situation is not quite so hopeless as you suddenly seem to think it is."

"Great, thanks, really, that's so reassuring." I sighed. "So when does the shop move again?"

"25 hours from now," the old man said. He pulled out a pocketwatch and glanced at it. "Or 24 hours and fifty-two minutes, rather."

Right. Open 25 Hours. Apparently the sign wasn't a mistake. Figures. "And you really have no way of controlling where it goes."

"That depends on your definition of control," the old man replied. "The shop goes where it's needed. Or where it needs to go."

"Well, what if I need it to go back to Tulsa?" I said.

"It doesn't quite work that way," he said.

"Of course it doesn't," I muttered. "So what do I do?"

"For now?" The old man poked my foot with his cane. "Finish dusting."