Stevie Strange
Wong closed his book and looked at his watch. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. He sighed. He hadn’t actually slept the night before, having spent the evening at the Golden Daggers club doing prizefights. While he loved being a librarian, it didn’t pay very much and so Wong had a side job at the Dagger, where he was paid extra to utilise magic in his fights. He was, he realized, extremely tired, and resolved to take the rest of the day off. Things were quiet around Kamar-taj. There had recently been an incident with Loki Laufeyson returning to Earth, but Dr. Strange had dealt with that effectively in his capacity as master of the New York Sanctum.
Wong had just gotten out the keys to lock up the library when he heard a loud knocking noise on the main door. He went over and opened it to see the Cloak of Levitation. Before he had time to wonder why it was not attached to Dr Strange as usual, the cape picked him up and carried him over to the stand where the Eye of Agamotto generally lived. Except now, the Eye was not there.
Wong was shocked. The Eye being little more than a holder for the Time Stone, if some malicious party had managed to steal it then there was no telling how catastrophic the consequences could be. Master Mordo had left Kamar-taj last year after Strange had used the Time Stone to repel Dormamu from Earth. Could this be Mordo’s retaliation?
But the cloak did not seem interested in the fact that the Eye was missing. Instead, it unseated itself from Wong’s shoulders and did its best to point Wong to a pile of clothing next to the empty holder. Wong was wondering what the cloak could possibly mean when suddenly a small boy with a thick head of curly black hair popped his head out of the pile. “You found me!” he said. “Ok, my turn!” Then he closed his eyes and started to count to ten. The cloak flew off and attempted to conceal itself in the rafters. Wong was trying to think who this child might be and how he managed to get into the sanctum when suddenly he recognized the clothes on the floor as belonging to Strange. Had the man, in his endless quest for knowledge, somehow managed to turn himself into a toddler?
Wong was trying to digest this new information when he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Master Featherstone, master of the London Sanctum. She was in her mid-30s, taller than Wong with a slim build and fiery red hair that she kept in a neat bob. Seeing Wong, she smiled. “Ah, Wong,” she said, “I was just coming to ask you about - good heavens!” she broke off. “Is that Stephen Strange?” “I think it might be,” said Wong. “I will ask him.” He turned to the boy, who was trying his very hardest to remember what number came after seven. “Stephen?” The boy opened his eyes and said. “No. I’m Stevie. Stevie Strange. What are your names?”
“My name is Wong,” said Wong. Stevie’s eyes brightened. “Wong!” he cried, and ran over and gave him a hug. After recovering from the initial shock of the unexpected gesture, Wong scooped up the little boy who dropped off in his arms almost immediately. “I think some part of him must remember that you guys are friends,” said Featherstone. “Poor thing, it’s like 3 A.M. in New York. He must be exhausted. What should we do with him?” “We need to find out what did this to him so we can reverse it,” said Wong. “I know that,” replied Featherstone. “I mean, what are we going to do with him now? It might be weeks before we find the cure and you can’t hold him all that time.”
Wong thought for a moment. “Everyone in Kamar-taj is required to have an emergency contact on file in case something happens to them. We must telephone Strange’s contact. Here, take him for me so that I can summon his records.” Featherstone took Stevie, who stirred but remained fast asleep. Wong performed the incantation and a small booklet dropped into his hands. After briefly flipping through it. he found what he was looking for. “Here it is. A Ms Christine Palmer, Metro-General Hospital.” Featherstone looked over his shoulder. “That’s an American phone number. We’d better make the call from the New York sanctum or there’ll be one hell of a phone bill.”
So to the New York sanctum they went. Stevie was laid on what had been his favourite sofa in his adult life, and Wong and Featherstone went to the telephone and dialled Christine’s number. A sleepy voice floated over the line. “Hello? Who is this?” “Good evening, Ms Palmer,” said Wong. “My name is Wong, I’m with the Masters of the Mystic Arts and -” “Who?” Wong covered the reciever and turned to Featherstone. “She doesn’t know about us!” “Why would he put her down as his emergency contact then?” said Featherstone. “Probably didn’t think he would ever need it. Typical,” replied Wong. “Well what are we going to do? We can’t explain it to her. If she doesn’t know about the mystic arts it’ll be a big stretch to ask her to take care of toddler Strange.”
Both Wong and Featherstone remained in thought for what seemed to both of them like an eternity but in reality was only a few seconds. “I’ve got it!” said Featherstone. “There’s this code phrase you can say into a telephone and the other person immediately disconnects, no questions asked.” She took the phone from Wong and said, “I’m calling about your car’s extended warranty.” Instantly there was a click and the dial tone. “I am surprised that worked,” said Wong. “I wonder what it is about that specific phrase that makes people put the phone down?” Featherstone shrugged.
“Well,” said Wong, “now that we’ve exhausted Strange’s emergency contact, what do we do with him?” “Does he have any family?” asked Featherstone. “If he does, he never talks about them,” Wong replied. “I think he has probably alienated everyone who isn’t dead with his detestable arrogance.” The two sorcerers gazed at their sleeping colleague. “Just imagine anyone being alienated by that adorable little guy,” said Featherstone softly. “I wonder where it all went wrong.”
She seemed to straighten up. “I suppose I could take him. Plenty of room in the London Sanctum. I’ve never understood why they built those places so big and then only gave one of us the job of living in them.” She walked over to where Stevie was sleeping and gently shook him awake. “Stevie, hon? I’m going to take you back to my house in London and then we’re going to decide what to do with you in the morning.” “No!” The reply was sleepy but determined. “I want Wong!” Secretly Featherstone was relieved. She was not a huge fan of children and, while she thought Stevie was absolutely adorable she had not relished the thought of being his caretaker for the forseeable future.
“Very well,” said Wong. “I’ll take him from here. We’ll have to stay in the sanctum; there’s no room for him in my apartment.” “Ok,” said Featherstone. “I’ll be getting back to London, I suppose.” “Yes, go ahead,” replied Wong. “I think we both need to sleep.” Featherstone headed for the door that lead back to Kamar-taj and the London Sanctum. As she went through the door she called over her shoulder, “I’ll do some detective work, try and find out who took the Eye and what happened to Strange. I’ll be back in the morning - well, your morning anyway.”
Wong, picked up Stevie and headed to the bedrooms. Most hadn’t been used in years and were very dusty, but soon Wong found one with a large double bed for him and room for a small bed that Stevie could sleep it in. Wong laid Stevie on the large bed and went in search of a more toddler-sized one. He retrieved one in the end, but as he entered their room he saw that Stevie had already crawled under the large bed’s covers and dozed off. Feeling much too tired to wrangle him into the other bed, Wong climbed in next to him and he immediately snuggled closer. This is a large bed, thought Wong. How much space could a toddler possibly take up?