"I could try again," he offers, "And throw harder."

He's all of ten--this is probably a recipe for disaster.

And then he nods, picking his book back up and slinging his backpack to the front. As he stuffs the book inside, he explains, "I was heading out to go see... someone," because admitting you're visiting a psychiatrist even if he's really Jiminey Cricket isn't really fun, "but... the door messed up. Is it magic?"