The Mystery of Merlin's Magic

by Matt Musson

  Shad began quoting:”Chinese Star Anise is a star-shaped spice obtained from a small evergreen tree native to southwest China. The star shaped fruits are harvested just before ripening. It is widely used in Chinese cooking and is somewhat less popular throughout the orient. Star anise contains anethole, the same ingredient which gives the unrelated European Anise its flavor. Recently, star anise has come into use in the West because it is less expensive. It is used in baking, and provides the distinctive licorice taste of the liquor Galliano.”

  “But we're looking for a poison,” said Charlie.

  “It can be a poison,” Shad continued. “Cases of illness, including ‘serious neurological effects, such as seizures' have been reported after overdosing on star anise tea. Discovery Channel Productions,” he explained. “’The Spice of Life'”.

  “Well,” Charlie surmised. “We have our first break in this investigation. It appears that Lyndsey Dalrymple has poisoned her own Grandfather and our bird!”

  **********

  With information in hand, we decided to pay Lyndsey a visit and get her side of the story. And, let me tell you what, she was not a happy camper when Toby and I showed up suggesting that she poisoned her Grandfather. To prove we were off base she ran to the kitchen and returned to the door with the recipe card.

  “There losers!” Lyndsey announced triumphantly waving the recipe in our faces. “12 teaspoons. Just like I said.”

  But her smile didn't last long.

  Toby took the recipe card and held it up to the sunlight. He used his fingernail to scrape away a small dried glob of cookie dough from the paper. It now showed ½ teaspoon. That little dried spot of flour almost killed Lyndsey’s Grandfather and our parrot.

  Lyndsey’s mouth dropped open and she stood in stunned silence for a several seconds.

  Then, she dissolved into tears.

  Lyndsey cried so hard, I think she forgot how to breath. Suddenly, she went all wobbly, and it looked for a moment like she was going to pass out. Without thinking, I caught her in my arms to keep her from hitting the sidewalk. Then, for several minutes she sobbed on my shoulder until her tears finally ran dry. At last she was able to catch her breath. By then I could probably have let her go, but I didn't want to take the chance.

  “It's okay,” I said. “It was a simple mistake. It was just a speck of flour. And, there was no real harm done.”

  “But you don't understand Jeep,” she corrected. “I have another batch in the oven right now. If you hadn't come along when you did – I would be on my way over to Grandpa's with a fresh batch of poison.”

  She gazed into my eyes.

  “You saved him, Jeep. You saved Grandpa Shiner. And you saved me, too. I don't know what I would have done - if the worst had happened and it had been my fault.”

  Then, Lyndsey put her arms around my neck and planted a great big kiss right on my lips. In broad daylight!

  I knew the guys would be teasing me about this for months. But, right there and then, it sure didn't seem to matter.

  ***************

  Chapter 14 – The Golf Legend and the Master of the Skies

  We all went down to Granite Falls Mini Golf the next day to welcome Mr. Shiner home from the hospital. Now that the doctors knew what the problem was, they believed he would make a complete recovery. They just wanted him to take it easy for a few days.

  As we stood around waiting for Mr. Shiner's son, Lyndsey’s Dad, to drive up, Thor made an observation. “So, there never really was any magic? It was just a hallucination brought on by a bad cookie?”

  “It looks that way,” I replied.

  “Oh, I don't know about that,” Toby countered. “I think there might be some magic here after all.”

  He turned to Shad McReynolds. “Shad, did you bring what I asked for?”

  “It’s right here,” Shad replied, handing over a plastic shopping bag.

  Toby continued, “Last night it hit me. Maybe we are looking for the wrong kind of Magic. Maybe we are looking for the wrong kind of Merlin. Shad? What can you tell me about Merlin?”

  “Merlin,” Shad replied. “Merlin Ambrosius - also known in Welsh as Myrddin Wyllt (Merlin the Wild). In Arthurian legend, a magician and prophet who served as counselor to King Arthur.”

  “Precisely,” said Toby. “But, there are other Merlins you can think of? We know Mr. Shiner served in the US Army Air Force in Europe in World War II. Were there any ‘Merlins’ that served with the USAAF? ”

  “Hmmm,” Shad thought. “Let me change gears here for a moment. Let's see. Wings. Wings. Wings. Okay….

  “Merlin. The Rolls Royce Merlin Engine. A 12 cylinder, 60° "V", 27 litre, liquid cooled aircraft engine built during WWII under license by the Packard Automobile Company. The Merlin name came from a small falcon also known as a ‘pigeon hawk' rather than King Arthur's legendary sorcerer.”

  “Exactly!” said Toby.

  “You mean all this time we should have been looking for an aircraft engine?” Charlie posed.

  “Maybe,” said Toby, “or, maybe something more.”

  Toby reached into the shopping bag and pulled out a model airplane.

  “Be careful with that,” Shad cautioned. “The glue's not fully set.”

  Toby handed the model to me. “Okay Jeep. See if this stirs anything up.”

  I held the little replica aircraft up and let it speak to me.

  Toby explained, “I Googled Merlin last night on my PC at home. What I found was that the Merlin engine transformed North American's P-51 Mustang from a so so performer – into the most celebrated single engine fighter of World War II. That started me thinking. And then I remembered something that Councilman Porkbutt shared with us the other afternoon. Does anyone remember what was here before the Mini Golf?”

  “A Spa,” Thor answered.

  “That's right: a Spa. And, does anyone remember what the Spa was known for?”

  This time I called out the answer, “A giant indoor swimming pool!”

  But, I was not just standing still anymore. I was moving. I held the little airplane out in front of me like a divining rod. It was leading me. And, from somewhere beneath me I could hear ‘a song.' But, it was a song unlike any I had ever heard before. It was a deep throaty growl. It was a rumble. It was the purr of a creature that once ruled the skies across Europe. Now, as close as I could tell, it was coming from the earth eight feet below me.

  “There's something here,” I said. “It's below us. It's in the Spa's old swimming pool!”

  I was so preoccupied; I did not hear the car doors shutting. But, now I looked up and saw Mr. Shiner. He was smiling as he walked up.

  “There is something down there. Isn't there, Mr. Shiner?” I asked.

  “That's right, Jeep,” he replied. “And you boys have earned the right to see her. If you want to see Merlin's Magic just follow me.”

  The old fellow was still a little unsteady. But, he was brimming with excitement as he led us into his apartment. We walked into the kitchen and he pulled out a key that dangled from a string around his wrist. Mr. Shiner unlocked the door that we assumed led down to the basement. He opened the door and stepped through the threshold.

  Not wanting to be left behind, we quickly followed Mr. Shiner down the stairs into the darkened basement. But, when Mr. Shiner hit the lights, we saw this was not a basement at all. It was an old swimming pool – that had been converted into an underground aircraft hangar.

  And, there she was.

  *********

  She sat in the center of the room, as sweet and shiny as the day she rolled off the assembly line, over 60 years ago. There was no mistaking her sleek deadly demeanor, her bubble canopy, her four bladed prop or the bulging air scoop on her belly. She was a North American P-51 D fighter airplane.

  Her coat was silver and slick. And, on her nose was the hand painted figure of cross eyed wizard with lightning coming from his wand. Underneath in black letters were the
words: “Merlin's Magic”.

  “It's the double M,” Toby gasped. “It’s Merlin's Magic!”

  Beside and below the canopy I also noticed the lettering ‘Crew Chief: Brock Shiner'.

  We were stunned. No one said anything for a minute. We just walked around, taking it in from different angles and occasionally rubbing our eyes like we expected it to disappear.

  I walked up and placed my hand on the wing to see what a legendary aircraft felt like.

  “She's amazing,” I stammered. “But why underground?”

  Mr. Shiner smiled broadly, “She is a beauty isn't she? I was her crew chief when I served with the Mighty Eighth in WWII. I labored and sweated over her. Each day we watched her fly off and stood on pins and needles until she returned. Then we cleaned her up, we patched her holes and put her back together. She was our Magic. And, I loved her more than any other thing I ever owned – and more than most people. But, then the war ended. And, no one needed her anymore. Thousands like her were chopped up and sold for scrap. I just couldn't let that happen to the Magic. I still needed her even if the Air Corp didn't. So, I decided to buy her myself! ”

  The old man paused for a second.

  “All those years in the army, I did not have anything to spend my money on. Now I did. And, you would not believe how little frontline aircraft were being sold for after the war. But, the Army had already sold her to an outfit in Arizona. And, since they wanted an airplane, I bought a different P-51, changed the serial numbers and sent it out to Flagstaff. I dismantled the Magic and shipped her in pieces back to Granite Falls, where I put her back together down here, away from prying eyes.”

  Toby chimed in,” technically, she wasn't yours. You could not take the chance that salvage group – or maybe the army – would want her back. So, you kept her hidden down her all those years.”

  “That's right, son. This was my hideaway. I had my tools down here. I put in a TV set and my Lazy boy chair. I even framed the original hand drawn plans for the golf course and mounted them on the wall. Since Lyndsey’s grandmother passed, I have practically lived down here. I come down here every evening and polish up the Magic. Then, I sit and think about the good times and the old friends. I'll tell you boys, when you reach my age, it's sometimes easier to remember what happened fifty years ago than what you did yesterday.”

  He sighed, “But now, since they are taking away my golf course, I guess I can't keep here down here any longer. Besides, she's a wild bird. It isn't right to keep here cooped up anymore.”

  We continued moving around the hanger in quiet reverence like we were in church, admiring the Magic from both sides and front and back.

  She was an amazing secret!

  *********

  Freddie was the first one to turn his attention to our surroundings. In the corner of the room, he found a drain pipe that came down from above and fed into an open barrel full of colored golf balls.

  “I told you!” he cried. “That's where those golf balls on hole 18 ended up. If we had just gone down the hole like I said, we would have solved this mystery days ago!”

  Meanwhile, Charlie Sinclair examined the golf course sketches that hung along the walls. “Mr. Shiner, these sketches? You did not make them did you? ”

  “No, Son,” the old fellow replied. “Back during the war we had a USO group come through to entertain the troops. Weather kept their plane grounded at our base for almost three days. During that time I got to know a fella who was a golfer from Atlanta. When I told him I wanted to build a miniature golf course after the War, he made these drawings for me.”

  “And, the course upstairs?” asked Charlie. “You used these designs for the holes?”

  “Yep. All eighteen.”

  “Guys, come over here and look at this,” Charlie ordered, excitement creeping into his voice. “Does that signature say what I think it does?”

  Toby walked over and examined the signature closely. Then he whistled softly.

  “Whoa… Mr. Shiner,” Toby said. “Don't worry about moving out just yet. When we tell the world who designed your course, golfers from all over will be laying down in front of those bulldozers.”

  ***************

  Chapter 15 – Released and Re-united

  Six weeks after Mr. Shiner came home from the Hospital, we attended the grand reopening of the ‘Granite Falls Miniature Golf Course – Designed by Bobby Jones'.

  Golf enthusiasts from all over the county had come to play this ‘Brand New' Bobby Jones course. Being featured on the front cover of ‘GOLF DIGEST' didn't hurt any either.

  The Governor of the State came to the ribbon cutting ceremony and he brought along his favorite putter. In addition there were even three chartered buses from Augusta National, Bobby Jones' country club in Georgia.

  Of course, the City Council gave up the whole parking lot idea. They even passed a proclamation granting the course landmark status. Porkbutt Preferred Parking was not going to get its hands on this piece of Granite Falls' history.

  We were really looking forward to seeing regret and defeat on Wiley Porkbutt's face now that his plans came to a screeching halt. But, as luck would have it, he attended the Grand Opening with a huge smile. He had just made a deal for the abandoned Drug Store next door. He couldn't wait to bulldoze it to the ground and put down some asphalt.

  However, I could not be upset, when the Governor shook Mr. Shiner's hand and cut that big blue ribbon. Then seconds later the unmistakable rumble of a Merlin engine filled the air.

  Mr. Shiner made a deal with the local wing of the Air National Guard. He donated the aircraft to the ANG on the condition that they keep it at the local airbase and fly it at least once a month. These days, Mr. Shiner spent his evenings at the air base, spinning tails to a new generation of men and women who defend freedom and protect the heavens.

  We were all smiles on that beautiful mid-summer day. And everyone was looking straight up as that incredible Mustang victory rolled across the crystal blue Carolina sky.

  Those not cheering at the P-51 passing over head, were smiling at the tears coming down from an old man's eyes, as his dearest friend once more ‘slipped the surly bonds of earth'.

  And, out of those hundreds present, only two people even noticed when an arm adorned with a recently returned sterling ID bracelet that said ‘LYNDSEY', moved close to my arm. And, I had the biggest smile in the crowd, when the prettiest girl there slipped her hand into mine.

  **************

  The Wind Up.

  So, that's the story of how we solved the Mystery of Merlin's Magic. And, in the process we stopped the Mini Golf Course from becoming a parking lot and we saved Mr. Shiner and our parrot Rottweiler from poison cookie death.

  And, the neatest part of this mystery is that we discovered a genuine WWII P-51 fighter. I have to say that Mustang is the coolest thing I have ever located.

  Of course, without my family and my fellow Rangers there would not have been a story. After all, it was my Grandpa Gus who trained me to be the world's greatest locator. And, without the guys, I would have just spent the summer lying around playing video games instead of having the most amazing adventure of my life!

  Because, when it comes right down to it, all I really do is find things. But, I do have something to admit.

  Even I can't wait to see - what it is that I find next.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  CSI – Granite Falls

  I always look forward to Saturday afternoons, because for Dad and me Saturday afternoons are ‘guy time,’ when we do guy things. We go fishing. We go to football games or play miniature golf. Sometimes we even go to the shooting range and Dad let’s me try out his muzzleloader.

  After we are done with our adventures, Dad always takes me by Darby’s and he doesn’t mind if I get an order of cheese fries and an order of chili fries and a order of plain fries with ketchup. Of course I wash all those fries down with
the largest Cherry Coke in Granite Falls and he does not say a word about how I am ruining my dinner. Instead, while I eat, Dad tells me stories about what things were like in Granite Falls when he was a kid.

  It’s the perfect way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

  Unfortunately, this weekend Dad was in Atlanta where he is attending something called a ‘Suppliers Meeting’. Of course, I begged him to take me. But, he said a suppliers meeting was no place for a boy my age.

  The only good news is that he promised when he got home on Friday, he would take me to the Granite Falls High School game and buy me all the nachos I can stuff in my face.

  So, that is how I ended up alone on one particular Saturday afternoon. Mom and Jenny had gone to the multiplex in Hickory to see something called ‘Loves Enduring Heartbreak’ or ‘Heart’s Enduring Love’ or ‘A Loving Heart Endures’ or some other awful chick choice where there’s not a single rocket propelled grenade in the entire movie!

  Mom invited me to go with them but I politely declined, telling her I would rather be staked naked to an ant hill and force fed instant grits.

  So, there I was. No Dad. No game. No French fries. Not even a Cherry Coke. I was spending Saturday afternoon bored silly, surfing through 89 channels of nothing and wishing I was in Atlanta meeting suppliers. But, all that changed when I got an emergency Code Red Text from Freddie Dunkleberger.

  Mom’s Museum. Now! The mask is gone!

  **************

  The Granite Falls Exploratorium does not really belong to Freddie’s Mom. Ms. Dunkleberger is just the Head Curator. Of course, that might be because she is also the only Curator of the museum. It is a small museum with a small staff but they do a big job with their hands on approach to history, geography and science.