“So Mom, wouldn’t you like to go on a long voyage by ship?”
“Who’d darn your socks if I was away traveling? Look what a big hole you’ve made.”
“It wasn’t me who did that.”
“I know, it wasn’t you, it was your feet. Goodness, boy, when will you ever settle down?!”
“From today . . . from right now!”
“I’d say that would be magic!”
So Mom does her darning, then she puts the soup on the range and stirs it, while Kaytek sits on a low stool. It feels so strange and so good, better than in a long time.
“Yes, Antek. You’re off at school or out with your pals, and your father’s at work, so I’m left alone with my thoughts. Since Grandma died I have no one to talk to, or ask for advice, or complain to. I spend my whole time worrying about the two of you.”
Kaytek gently kisses his mother’s hand.
“So tell me, who gave you that scratch?”
“I’d rather you told me what it was like when you were little. Tell me about Dad and Grandma, and about me and Helenka.”
“Helenka was a quieter child than you, maybe because she was a girl, or perhaps because she was little. Though you’ve always been a scamp – even in your cradle you couldn’t be left alone because you’d start kicking and want to get up, and you’d chatter away from daybreak.”
Mom talks, and time passes quickly. Finally, Dad comes home.
“Here’s your little imp. Look, he’s all scratched – he was in a train crash. He reads the stupid papers, then he makes up garbage. Oh dear, what a son you’ve given me!”
“You gave me the little ne’er-do-well. Show me your face, Antek. You know what? Your old man has just gotten a new commission. Things were getting tough – I just didn’t want to tell you. Now I’ll have work again for a few months. But you know, Antek, those wounds of yours are strange – they don’t look like fresh ones from today, they look older than that.”
“That’s right. The crash was the day before yesterday.”
“Watch out, boy, or I’ll have to punish you.”
“If you lose your patience?”
“Yes, I sure am losing it.”
“His head’s full of jokes,” says Mom, “but I shudder every time he leaves the house, the little madcap.”
They eat supper. They talk about his father’s work and the new commission. And Kaytek thinks: “I told the truth. They only have themselves to blame for not believing me. But now things are going to be different. Dad’s not going to worry about losing his job, and Mom’s not going to be afraid. From now on I’m going to have a peaceful life and a kind heart. From tomorrow. No, from today.”
He helps his mom with the dishes and sits down to do his homework. Poor kid, he doesn’t know what’s ahead of him.
A famous writer has died. There’s going to be a grand funeral with music.
Big cities like fine funerals. If the weather’s good, why not go watch, why not meet up with friends, why not have a chat? They’ll be making speeches at the graveside – why not go listen?
Everyone is heading for the funeral, so Kaytek has gone there too. But as he’s small, he’s having a hard time in the crowd.
Thieves love going to crowded funerals too, because it’s easier to get into people’s pockets and pinch their wallets or watches. The police are aware of this, so they send along plainclothes agents.
But Kaytek doesn’t know that. As the crowd presses him from all sides, he puts on his Cap of Invisibility and invisibly pushes his way through, using his knees and elbows.
Soon he’s getting close to the funeral cortege, because it’s much easier to advance like that. He might tread on someone’s foot or stick a fist in someone’s side, but he’s gone before they have a chance to turn round. At once they start arguing that it’s rude and ill-mannered to push, but meanwhile Kaytek is far away, causing more confusion and taking full advantage of it.
The regular rubberneckers don’t realize what’s happening, but one of the plainclothes agents is on the alert. As soon as he feels someone touching him, he waits for his moment, and then seizes Kaytek by the arm, even though he can’t see him.
“Let me go.”
“Oh, no I won’t. Take off your cap. You’re the wizard.”
So he’s been caught. That’s too bad. He takes off his Cap of Invisibility and meekly follows the agent.
The agent leads him away, wondering what to do next. The wizard is no ordinary catch. The greatest detectives have failed to arrest him. He led the senior officer up the garden path, and Philips died because of this little colt.
“If I hand him over to the cops, I’ll get a reward. But I’d do better by becoming his accomplice.”
Kaytek has changed his face because they might want to take his picture. He’s not afraid – he’s in good form, as the sportsmen say. He’ll soon get out of jail.
The agent seems to have guessed his thoughts because he gently asks, almost begs him: “Please don’t run away. I’m not going to do you any harm.”
He takes Kaytek to a regular jail.
“Who’s this boy?” asks the duty officer. “From the funeral, I guess?”
“Yes, from the funeral.”
“Aren’t you ashamed? You’re a fine rascal. Show me what you’ve stolen.”
“He hasn’t stolen anything,” says the agent. “He may have wanted to, but he wasn’t quick enough. Or maybe I just thought he wasn’t.”
He waits until they’re alone together, then he says to Kaytek: “Listen, boy. You’re in my hands now.”
“Yes, I am. So what?”
“You know there’s a reward on your head?”
“Yes, I’ve read about it.”
“But I feel sorry for you. If we make a deal, it’ll be good for both of us. You can see for yourself you’ve goofed. Haven’t you? How smart is it to wear a Cap of Invisibility in a crowd? You’re too small. You can’t do it alone. So teach me to do magic and we’ll help each other out. Well? How do like the idea?”
“Fine. Very well.”
“So it’s a deal?”
“No, it’s not a deal.”
“You’d rather die in the cooler or dangle from a rope?”
“What do you mean, a rope?”
“They’ll hang you. Mind you, I’m not so interested in your magic spells, but I like you.”
“I like you too, but I have to go home now because my mom will be worried.”
“You’re dumb.”
“We’ll soon see who’s dumb,” says Kaytek, and vanishes.
The agent feels and fumbles, running about the room like a madman as he tries to find him – just as if he were playing blind man’s buff. But Kaytek has changed into a fly. However, Philips’ last words will prove to be true: Kaytek has a more powerful enemy than the police.
He tries to keep still on the wall, but he falls into a spider’s web. He buzzes pitifully, but the spider is already hanging over him on its crooked legs, and has just thrown the first thread at his wings.
I want, I demand, I want to be a mouse, he thinks, and changes into a small gray mouse.
He jumps through the window and into the yard. His head is spinning and he hasn’t yet recovered when a big black cat leaps at him.
He thinks his last moment has come.
I want, I demand! I demand, I command!
Just in time – and from under the cat’s claws a pigeon flies away.
Kaytek perches on a roof, but it’s cramped and he can hardly breathe. He flies off, but keeps looking for a place to return safely to the ground, because he knows he can’t keep this up for long.
Suddenly there’s a third attack on Kaytek’s life. He’s about to stare death straight in the eye a third time over as a hawk attacks him, falling from the sky like a stone. The hawk’s talons
are touching his feathers, when in a crazy effort, the pigeon breaks loose and falls heavily among the trees in the Saxon Garden.*
A person. I want, I demand to be a person!
Now Kaytek is sitting on a bench, weighing up an important issue.
“My Cap of Invisibility doesn’t guarantee me safety. What’s the use of being invisible when, even if they can’t see me, they can catch me and shoot me? I’ll have to do it a different way. I want to have a watch, and I want there to be four letters on the watch face. And I want it to have a spring. If I press on the spring once, the hand will stop at the letter A, and half of me will change into air. If I press the spring twice, the hand will stop at the letter B, where an ordinary watch has six o’clock, and then only my head and hand will remain solid. When I’m threatened by great danger, I’ll press the spring three times, and the hand will stop at the letter C, which is where the nine should be. And then the whole of me will change into air; only the watch and the finger will remain, and with this one finger I’ll be able to press on the spring to return to my solid, bodily form.”
Kaytek thinks through the entire mechanism once again very carefully, then conjures up a watch of this kind.
Maybe because he’s tired, or maybe because the spell is difficult, something stabs him in the heart, causing him pain. He shudders, and then everything goes dark before his eyes. He leans against the bench to stop himself from falling over.
But now he has the watch. For once and for all, he has freed himself from his pursuers. Now he’ll never have to escape as a fly, a mouse, or a pigeon again. And the enemy wizard is evidently too weak to kill Kaytek as a person.
“Were you at the funeral?” asks Mom.
“Yes, I was.”
“Did you see it?”
“Yes.”
“You look very tired.”
Poor Mom can’t sense the truth. She doesn’t know a thing, the lovely, kind woman.
Anyway, his secret is exhausting Kaytek too.
“Just once I’ve met my enemy face to face. But who gives me my strength? Who has me in their power?”
He can tell this is just for now, that eventually everything will be explained, and then he’ll understand.
One Sunday he goes to a soccer match. The first half of the game isn’t very interesting; only later on do both teams start to liven up.
Kaytek has a sudden, willful idea to obstruct them and get them riled up.
He presses the spring on his watch to position A, and dashes onto the field.
Strange things start to happen. A player kicks the ball straight, but suddenly it stops and changes direction. It’s heading for the goal, but suddenly it flies backward all by itself, as if someone had thrown it. As if someone else was playing, someone agile and invisible.
The referee and the teams have noticed something is up, but there’s no time to stop and think – they can’t work out what’s going on and they can’t interrupt the game.
But there’s a lieutenant in the crowd watching the game who has noticed and realized what’s happening, because he can see a shadow moving about the field on its own. The shadow keeps changing – now it’s the distinct shadow of a boy, though he isn’t on the field at all; now it’s just half of him, now just a hand and a head. That’s because Kaytek keeps pressing the spring to different settings so the players won’t run into him, kick him, or knock him over. And wherever he darts, the most extraordinary things start happening to the ball.
The lieutenant has heard at the officers’ mess that they’re looking for a boy-criminal in a Cap of Invisibility. So he takes out his revolver and creeps up very quietly.
There’s just about to be a penalty kick. The lieutenant sneaks close to where the shadow is cast on the ground; he can hear a watch ticking and the invisible Kaytek’s breathing. He takes aim and is just about to fire . . .
But just then a whirlwind rises up, pushes Kaytek high into the air above the field and carries him away in an unknown direction.
* * *
*The Saxon Garden is a park in downtown Warsaw.
Chapter Eighteen
In the wizard chief’s fortress – The author
tells the readers why he has deleted parts
of this chapter … – Zofia imprisoned
Kaytek tries in vain to come to a stop.
He demands and commands, but it’s no use. His commands and wishes have no power, as nothing but a stream of lifeless words pours from his pale lips.
There’s a whistling noise in his ears and his mind is full of confusion. All he can see are the rectangles of fields and forests, unfamiliar villages and towns, strange stretches of water and gardens. Until finally his courage and strength of mind give in to the opposition, and he’s too weak to fight.
As the whirlwind carries him away, he’s like a drop of water in an ocean wave, like a feather tossed by the power of the elements. He swallows gulps of air, but it is sharp and painful to breathe.
Whatever he wants, let it happen.
The last thing he sees is a lofty mountain, a high rampart and a stone wall, and the towers of an unfamiliar fortress.
And then he falls. He closes his eyes. His mind goes numb.
Now he’s lying on a stone floor, in darkness and silence.
He’s in a stuffy cellar – it smells damp and musty.
“I’m a prisoner.”
He stands up and reaches out a hand. He touches a low ceiling. He paces his prison cell to measure it – it’s four paces wide and five paces long.
“Is this a punishment or revenge? I want to know.”
Two shining eyes are staring at Kaytek without blinking.
A flaming fireball nine times bigger than Kaytek’s head goes spinning round it.
Then it’s black night again.
“How long will I be here for? What happens next? Is this forever?”
Kaytek walks around the dark cell, wetting his tongue against its damp walls.
Some agonizing minutes or hours go by.
And there on the other side of the stone walls, the sun is shining as before – the good, warm sun.
“I’m a captive in the pitch dark, while out there is brightness and freedom.”
He has eyes, but he cannot see, he has ears, but he cannot hear. All that’s left is his mind, which he sends back to Warsaw, to his home and his school.
And then he starts to cry.
Suddenly the walls begin to swarm with thousands of tiny, flickering sparks . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
From the Author
Before I started writing my story about Kaytek, I talked to some boys about magic spells, and to some girls about fairy godmothers.
Then I read them various chapters. I made some corrections, changed some things, and rewrote the story. I wanted the book to be interesting, but I didn’t want it to be terrifying or too hard to understand.
When I read out Chapter Eighteen about Kaytek in the wizard chief’s fortress, one of the boys said: “That’s scary!”
And he moved closer and held onto my hand.
Then I said: “But stories about wizards are scary.”
And he said: “Well, yes . . . but this is something else.”
That night he had a dream about Kaytek and it frightened him.
As I couldn’t change what I’d written, I crossed out all the scary things that had appeared in his dream. Then I read it out to him again.
And he said: “Now it’s OK.”
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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kaytek swallows the refreshing drink to the very last drop. Then he puts his hand against the stone, leans his face on it, and goes to sleep.
These are the first peaceful hours of his captivity.
He wakes up in darkness.
He doesn’t immediately remember what happened the day before.
There on an iron table, written in fiery letters, is something that might be a verdict or a sentence.
Some black bats make their presence known by rustling and fluttering their wings.
A large feather pen slowly runs its golden nib across a black metal board, writing line after line:
“You will not be destroyed by bullet or sword.”
“You will not be struck by fire or lightning.”
“You will not be poisoned by venom.”
“You will not be thrown from a cliff.”
“You will not be stifled by rope or gas.”
“You will not be drowned.”
“You will not be buried alive.”
Beside each sentence there are some incomprehensible signs and numbers. They must be paragraphs from the wizard’s penal code.
So is his trial over?
The sentence has been passed.
There is a small barred window in the stone wall. There is a low door in the stone wall, and the floor is made of wooden planks.
Kaytek rejoices. His heart is trembling with hope.
He counts the knots and nails in the floorboards. Now and then he casts a glance toward the bars.
He tries to climb up to the window: although he’s tired and weak, he tries to jump, to catch onto a hook that’s sticking out underneath it. If he can reach the window, maybe he’ll manage to see the free world one more time beyond the walls and the iron bars.
I wish, I demand, I command!
The only answer is malicious laughter and the boom of distant thunder.
Kaytek the Wizard Page 21
