The Loblolly Boy and the Sorcerer (15 page)

‘Performance? Whose performance?’

‘That boy’s, the boy you wish to Exchange with. Extraordinary!’

‘Were you there? Did you see it?’ asked the loblolly boy.

He somehow hadn’t noticed the Sorcerer among the crowd of onlookers, but then he hadn’t especially been looking for him.

‘Wouldn’t have missed it for worlds, dear boy. Yes, I was there. As soon as my friend Daniel told me what he was attempting I knew I had to be there.’

‘To see him stuff it up?’

‘Well, of course! And didn’t he stuff it up magnificently?’

‘I guess so,’ said the loblolly boy. ‘Probably an eight out of ten stuff up.’

‘Oh, don’t sell Daniel short, my boy. Nine out of ten, at least!’

‘You
are
here to gloat, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, of course I am, but not exclusively,’ said the Sorcerer genially. ‘There is something else.’

‘I thought there might be,’ said the loblolly boy.

The Sorcerer turned to look at him, his dark eyes glinting. ‘Little loblolly boy, I fear you’re letting yourself become defeatist. You seem out of sorts and even morose. Somehow you’re not your usual cheerful, effervescent self!’

The loblolly boy met his gaze. ‘Mel’s mum says it’s unhelpful to be sarcastic,’ he said.

The Sorcerer raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Then I can only suggest that Mel’s mum, as you describe her, is a woman of small imagination, little wit and no sense of fun.’

‘So
you
say.’

‘No matter. Anyway, as I have just announced, I have not only come here to gloat, even though the gloating gives me considerable pleasure. No, I have come with a small proposal which may be of interest.’

The loblolly boy glanced at him suspiciously.

‘I believe I mentioned the other day just how very much I like to win in life’s little games.’

‘I remember that.’

‘Well, it seems to me that my friend Daniel has attempted to help you arrange your desired Exchange with this uncooperative boy who is living your life.’

‘You know he has.’

‘Oh, yes, I know he has and I also know the result of that attempt. Failure! I might add, ignominious failure!’

‘You’re gloating again.’

‘Oh, I’m not gloating now. I’m simply stating a fact.’

‘There’s no need to keep on about it. It’s like you’re rubbing my nose in it or something!’

‘No, little loblolly boy, I’m not rubbing your nose in anything. I’m merely making the point that Daniel has made a complete mess of things. So much of a mess, that the situation is now even worse than it was before he intervened.’

‘You’re telling
me
that?’

‘You haven’t heard my proposition yet.’

‘Okay, what is it?’

‘You know that Daniel and I play draughts once a week and that he allows me to win and how unsatisfactory that is …’

‘Why? You like winning.’

‘Yes,’ said the Sorcerer a little testily. ‘But it’s not really winning, is it? I mean, I know I could beat Daniel on even terms, but he never lets me try.’

The loblolly boy was becoming a little confused, not knowing where all of this was leading.

‘So?’ he asked.

‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’

‘No, it isn’t.’

‘Daniel has genuinely tried to help you and failed miserably. It would be very satisfactory to me, if you’d allow me to try to help you so that I could succeed brilliantly!’

The loblolly boy stared at the Sorcerer.

‘I can’t believe you’re saying this …’

‘Is it a deal?’

The loblolly boy shook his head as if to clear it, then fearing that the Sorcerer might see the shaking as signifying refusal, nodded vigorously in assent. He could not allow the Sorcerer to have second thoughts. ‘Of course it’s a deal. You really think you can?’

‘Time will tell,’ said the Sorcerer. ‘Time will tell. But I do believe it will prove a very satisfactory challenge.’

He put a thumb under his lapel and pulled the buttonhole towards him. He bent to put his nose to it and then he sat
up again. ‘Such a delightful fragrance,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’d like to smell the roses again?’

The loblolly boy nodded. He remembered his brief few hours as Ben. He remembered going into the vegetable garden with the stainless steel bowl. ‘Even the tomatoes,’ he whispered.

The Sorcerer glanced at him and then he clapped his hands. ‘Good! Then we must meet again to discuss our strategy. I suggest our meeting should be at Daniel’s apartment. Next Wednesday evening would be best. That’s when we meet for our weekly draughts game. Does that sound convenient?’

The loblolly boy, still in a state of surprise and excitement, said, ‘Of course. What time?’

‘Seven in the evening will be perfect,’ said the Sorcerer easily, and then giving the loblolly boy a thin smile, he swept back his long silver hair, stood up and made a small bow.

‘Au revoir,’ he said and then, swinging his cane jauntily, he strode off down the path towards the main gates.

The next two days the loblolly boy spent in a considerably more cheerful frame of mind. It was also a time of high excitement and anticipation as he swung from disbelief to hope. The disbelief sprung from his suspicion that the Sorcerer would not really help him and that there was a
strong chance that this was all just another trick. He could not ignore the warning in the Captain’s song, nor the Gadget Man’s reluctance to seek help from the Sorcerer on the grounds that he would be more likely to sabotage than to assist. Then, too, he had his own experience of the Sorcerer’s words and actions to date. The Sorcerer certainly had not been helpful and he was amazingly frank in admitting that he liked to mix things up and avoided doing good as much as possible. What had he said? Unless he had an underhand purpose in doing so.

On the other hand, the Sorcerer was convincing when he explained why he wanted to help. He did apparently have an underhand purpose. It made sense in a weird kind of way. He wanted to help not because it was the good thing or the right thing to do; he wanted to help so that he could win, so that he could poke the Gadget Man in the eye.

The loblolly boy couldn’t balance these things out, but all in all he considered that there was a pretty good chance that this wasn’t all some elaborate leg-pull or rug-pull and that the Sorcerer was on his case.

He was able to locate the public hospital and two smaller hospitals on the first day of his search. The smaller hospitals were both private and one was a maternity hospital, so he thought he could ignore these.

That Monday he haunted the public hospital until he found his father’s car in the car park. Once he’d seen this, he made his way inside and wandered the long halls and corridors, looking through wards and alcoves until he found a room with his own name on it.

He peered through the window in the door and saw his father sitting in a chair by the bed. His father looked even more drawn and haggard than he had the last time he’d glimpsed him. Benjy looked to be heavily sedated, for he was asleep. The loblolly boy could not tell whether Benjy had been released from his dog-obsession. He somehow doubted it, for he noticed that Benjy was strapped securely to his bed by three broad straps.

He called again on the Tuesday and made his way directly to Benjy’s room. When he peered through the window this time he was hugely relieved to see that the straps had gone and that Benjy was sitting up in bed flicking through the pages of a magazine. The loblolly boy quickly ducked down again. He had no wish for Benjy to suddenly glance at the door and see him staring through.

Satisfied, he left the hospital and was about to fly away once more, when he saw the familiar lines of his father’s Toyota pulling into the car park. He waited for his father to climb out and when he did so the loblolly boy saw that he was carrying an overnight bag. This suggested that Benjy was probably going to be discharged and would be on his way home again. Somehow, this added to his already cheerful frame of mind, and made the loblolly boy even more buoyant as he flew back towards the city.

Later that afternoon Mel came to the park. She listened to the loblolly boy’s news with great interest.

‘I’m glad he’s okay,’ she said of Benjy, ‘although part of me feels he’s got off lightly. He should have stayed that way for at least a couple of months and been kept in the pound and fed dog biscuits.’

‘Yeah,’ said the loblolly boy, ‘but I don’t want him to be a dog, I just want him to be the loblolly boy again.’

Mel looked at him. ‘You really think this Sorcerer guy will help you?’

‘He sounds pretty determined,’ said the loblolly boy.

‘Yeah, and the Gadget Man was pretty determined too,’ said Mel. ‘And look where that got us.’

‘Up the tree,’ grinned the loblolly boy.

‘Up the creek without a paddle,’ said Mel.

‘It can’t be as bad as that this time,’ said the loblolly boy. ‘He sees it as some sort of competition and he’s set on winning.’

‘How’s he going to help?’ asked Mel.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, how
is
he going to help? What’s the plan? Benjy might be himself again, as you say, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any more ready to Exchange. If I were him, I’d be even less likely now.’

‘I don’t know the plan,’ admitted the loblolly boy. ‘I don’t even know whether he has one. He wants me to meet
him tomorrow at the Gadget Man’s place. He said he’d talk about it there.’

‘Okay,’ said Mel. ‘I suppose he has some tricks up his sleeve. He’s a magician after all.’

‘He did turn that waiter into a dog,’ said the loblolly boy.

Mel turned to him with an astonished grin. ‘So he’s going to turn Benjy into another dog? God help us!’

CHAPTER TWELVE

N
OW YOU SEE IT …

S
hortly before seven the following evening the loblolly boy landed lightly in the little yard outside the Gadget Man's apartment. He hurried to the living room window and looked in. Both the Sorcerer and the Gadget Man were there. An open draughts board sat on the small table with the draughtsmen, white and black, arranged in their starting positions, but clearly the tournament had yet to begin.

He tapped on the door and seconds later was being ushered into the room by the Gadget Man.

‘Ah,' said the Sorcerer, ‘our dear little loblolly boy. Thank you for coming. We were, in fact, just discussing your sad plight, weren't we Daniel?'

‘Yes, yes,' said the Gadget Man. ‘I'm afraid my attempts to help fell rather short, and I fear …'

‘He fears he upset you,' interrupted the Sorcerer, ‘and it is a perfectly reasonable fear for I am sure he did.'

‘It wasn't really his fault,' said the loblolly boy. ‘It was always going to be tricky …'

‘I know, I know,' said the Gadget Man, ‘and that's very nice of you to be so understanding, but I fear I allowed my personal feelings to become unnecessarily hurt.'

‘That's the trouble when you have personal feelings,' said the Sorcerer. ‘They're like steam on the window: they tend to obscure the view.'

‘Quite,' said the Gadget Man, ‘quite so. And in this case they obscured my view of this boy's terrible dilemma. Please allow me to say I'm sorry.'

‘It's quite okay,' said the loblolly boy.

‘It's not okay,' said the Sorcerer sharply. ‘It's left you, as we've already observed, in an even worse situation than ever.'

The Sorcerer stood up and moved to the fire and stood with his back to it. He really did look like a magician this evening. He was in a black suit with a frock-jacket, a dress shirt and a black bow tie and, while he was not wearing a buttonhole, his top pocket did flourish a white silk handkerchief. All he needed was a black silk top hat.

‘I have discussed with the boy, Daniel,' the Sorcerer continued, ‘the possibility of my lending my not
inconspicuous
talents and abilities to the task of solving his terrible dilemma, as you termed it. I know
you
have a considerable amount of ingenuity, dear boy, but I have a considerable quantity of art. What do you think?'

The Gadget Man stared up at him in surprise. ‘You? Offer to help?'

Clearly the idea seemed incomprehensible to him.

‘Why not? I'm always open to new and provocative ideas.'

‘But why?'

‘Because I see it as a challenge,' said the Sorcerer easily. ‘A test if you like.'

‘Goodness me,' murmured the Gadget Man.

‘A test you failed, of course,' added the Sorcerer pointedly.

The Gadget Man looked at him, comprehension dawning. ‘Oh,' he said. ‘So that's where the wind is blowing …'

The Sorcerer shrugged. ‘Put it that way if you like. I prefer to see it as a win-win situation. Or rather, a
win-win-lose
situation. The loblolly boy wins; I win,' he smiled, ‘and you lose! Art triumphs over ingenuity. What could be more satisfying?'

The Gadget Man glanced worriedly at the loblolly boy. ‘Don't trust him,' he said. ‘He'll be up to his tricks. He can't do anything without an unexpected rabbit in his hat.'

‘Don't listen to him,' said the Sorcerer. ‘He's just a poor loser. He's lost already and he knows it.'

‘You haven't won yet,' said the Gadget Man. ‘I imagine you don't even have a picture of a nail.'

‘Picture of a nail?'

‘Plan of attack.'

‘Oh, yes I do,' said the Sorcerer smiling. ‘Or rather I have an approach.'

‘Oh, and what's that, dear boy?' asked the Gadget Man.

‘The indirect approach,' said the Sorcerer. ‘Always the most successful in my experience,' and he smiled again, and picked up the Gadget Man's telescope.

‘Be careful with that,' warned the Gadget Man.

‘I know, I know,' said the Sorcerer. ‘It's dangerous.'

As the two men were bickering, the loblolly boy had looked from one to the other almost as if he were watching a tennis match. However, when the Sorcerer mentioned the words
indirect approach
he became much more intent. Once again he remembered the Captain's advice. He recalled sitting with the Captain on the small beach watching the spider crabs and their sideways racing across the windswept sand. Notice how they run sideways, the Captain had said. You must not be direct. Only the indirect approach will work.

Now, the Sorcerer had said the same thing.

Perhaps he did have a plan.

‘What should
I
do?' asked the loblolly boy.

‘It all depends on your target,' said the Sorcerer. ‘I don't suppose much can be attempted before his condition is improved. I mean, the last time I saw him he was — how shall I put it? — quite barking mad!'

‘Oh, I think he's okay now,' said the loblolly boy. ‘I saw him a couple of times at the hospital. He was all strapped up unconscious on Monday, but yesterday he looked fine. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was going home.'

‘Oh, I'm very pleased to hear that,' said the Gadget Man.

‘Excellent,' said the Sorcerer. ‘I'm very pleased to hear that, too.'

‘So?' asked the loblolly boy.

‘So I suggest we meet at his home tomorrow. We may as well move quickly.'

‘Do you know where to go?'

‘I'm sure you'll tell me.'

‘Wonderful, wonderful,' said the Gadget Man. ‘This almost calls for a celebration.'

‘What do you mean almost?' asked the Sorcerer. ‘It does, it does. How about finding some of those marvellous cream crackers for us, dear boy, and I'll just charge my cup of tea.'

No sooner had the Gadget Man left the room though, the Sorcerer, who was still idly stroking the telescope, murmured, ‘Now you see it; now you don't!'

The loblolly boy's eyes widened as the telescope immediately vanished right before his eyes. One moment it was there; the next moment it had gone.

The Sorcerer winked at him and whispered, ‘And of course, I need hardly add, dear little loblolly boy, you saw nothing … nothing at all.'

The Sorcerer clearly meant moving quickly indeed. He'd named a very early time the next morning. The loblolly boy presumed this was in order to ensure that Benjy would be home.

Accordingly, the next morning the loblolly boy flew across the suburbs to the house occupied by his father, Janice and the boy now named Benjy who had stolen his life. He'd flown at a particularly high altitude so that he wouldn't be so noticeable. As he descended he felt the braking rush of the wind in his feathers. It should have been a thrill, but the wonder of flying
had long since palled. All his being now yearned to shuck off the loblolly boy and become human; more particularly to become again the human he had once been.

Down below, sitting in a bus shelter not far from the house, was the Sorcerer. The loblolly boy had wondered whether he'd be as elegantly and flamboyantly dressed as usual, but the Sorcerer had opted to be relatively inconspicuous. He was dressed in a discreet grey business suit and carried a large overnight bag. From the way the bag sagged in at the sides it was empty. But for his rather over-long silver hair, the Sorcerer could have been a country lawyer.

‘Well done, little loblolly boy,' he said as the loblolly boy landed before him. ‘I do like punctuality in a loblolly boy. In fact, I like punctuality in anybody.'

‘It was easy,' said the loblolly boy. ‘I didn't have much else on today. What's the plan?'

‘Ideally, we should wait until your father and your stepmother …'

‘Janice.'

‘Of course, your father and Janice go to work leaving our target …'

‘Benjy.'

‘… yes, Benjy, alone in the house. At that point I will approach and knock on the door and persuade him to look through …'

At that point, the Sorcerer withdrew the telescope he had stolen from the Gadget Man's apartment.

‘… this.'

The loblolly boy stared at the telescope. The Gadget Man
had made the telescope so that it looked somewhat
old-fashioned
with its polished cylinders of brass. He remembered the Sorcerer's little disappearing trick with the telescope at the Gadget Man's apartment. He had thought at that time the Sorcerer was just playing a teasing trick on the Gadget Man.

He remembered, too, that both the Captain and the Gadget Man became somewhat nervous any time he'd expressed any interest in it. Now the Sorcerer had stolen it.

‘Is that your plan? The telescope?'

The Sorcerer nodded, smiling.

‘Is that all?'

‘Is that not enough?'

‘So what will that do?'

‘As I understand it, this telescope is very dangerous. Those who look through it are given a glimpse of their destiny, of what they will ultimately be.'

‘So?'

‘So Benjy will look through the telescope and be transformed into something …'

‘Else?'

‘Yes, something else. The something he is destined to be.'

The loblolly boy stared at the Sorcerer, feeling a welling disappointment. He had hoped for more, for something better. This plan seemed just another re-run of the Gadget Man's, except that at least the Gadget Man knew that Benjy would be transformed into a dog. This plan meant that Benjy could be transformed into anything: a maddened gorilla, or an enraged rhinoceros.

In any event, already the Sorcerer was cheating. The
telescope was the Gadget Man's invention. Even in the unlikely event that this plan worked, it could only work because of the Gadget Man's ingenuity. It would have nothing to do with the Sorcerer's art.

However, the loblolly boy expressed none of this. Instead he asked, ‘Where do I come in?'

The Sorcerer looked at him in surprise.

‘Why, to effect the Exchange, of course. As soon as we have transformed this Benjy into a more agreeable form, then you must be on hand to Exchange.'

The loblolly boy nodded. However, his optimism had all but vanished. The old fears resurfaced. If Benjy were to be transformed into something else it would hardly be agreeable. It would most likely be intensely disagreeable: a rat, a viper, a mosquito.

As he was trying to deal with these depressing thoughts, a car passed by and he saw it was his father's Toyota with his father at the wheel.

‘One down, two to go,' he remarked.

The Sorcerer said, ‘What do you mean?'

‘That was Dad,' the loblolly boy said. ‘That means there's only Janice and Benjy home right now.'

There is much truth in the old saying that the best laid plans often turn belly up. The Sorcerer's plan depended on
Benjy's being left in the house alone after the loblolly boy's father and Janice had left for work.

However, there was no further movement after the Toyota left the drive. Janice's little red Mazda sports car stayed resolutely where it had been parked the night before. There was no sign of Janice's leaving for work at all.

On the other hand, not long after the loblolly boy's father drove past the bus shelter, Benjy came pedalling furiously past on a mountain bike. Both the Sorcerer and the loblolly boy stood up in disappointment as he sped past them, noticing neither in his haste.

‘What'll we do?' asked the loblolly boy. ‘Shall I follow him?'

‘No,' said the Sorcerer crossly. ‘It's already too late.'

Once again, the loblolly boy felt that sense of deflation. He'd hoped for so much and here, yet again, was another anti-climax.

‘A slight rearrangement of the plan,' said the Sorcerer. ‘The woman Janice is still in the house, right?'

‘As far as I know,' said the loblolly boy. ‘Her car's in the drive, anyway. And we haven't seen her come out.'

‘It would be useful if she weren't around,' mused the Sorcerer. He looked at the loblolly boy, ‘She can't see you, can she?'

The loblolly boy gave a wry grin. ‘Of course not, Janice would be just about the most insensitive person on the planet.'

‘Excellent,' said the Sorcerer. ‘In that case, take the telescope and place it somewhere near her. Then report
back to me with whatever happens. Do you understand?'

The loblolly boy nodded. ‘I understand, but what is placing the telescope near Janice going to achieve?'

The Sorcerer smiled grimly. ‘There are some things human beings just can't resist,' he said. ‘Testing whether the “Wet Paint” sign is true, squeezing the chocolate to find out whether it has a soft or a hard centre, and looking through a telescope that just happens to be lying around.'