The Loblolly Boy and the Sorcerer

by James Norcliffe

  Mel thought of the way Benjy had snarled and lunged at her. ‘It doesn’t seem a little strong to me,’ she said.

  ‘I guess that little stuff up wouldn’t have helped,’ said the loblolly boy.

  ‘Anyway,’ said the Gadget Man, ‘as soon as I saw the way the boy was behaving, I hurried home with the device in order to recalibrate it. I was just, I believe, on the very verge of success when you interrupted me with this very pleasant visit.’

  ‘I’m really glad about that,’ said the loblolly boy, ‘but where does that leave Benjy?’

  He also wanted to ask, but where does that leave me? But didn’t bother. In a sense it was the same question.

  ‘I really don’t know,’ said the Gadget Man.

  ‘In hospital,’ said Mel.

  ‘Oh, dear, is he?’ asked the Gadget Man.

  ‘They took him away in an ambulance,’ said Mel. ‘It was the only way I was going to be able to get down from that tree.’

  ‘So, what are you saying?’ asked the loblolly boy. ‘A few more tweaks and we can turn Benjy back into Benjy?’

  ‘Or at least into a more reasonable dog?’ asked Mel.

  The Gadget Man looked at them with some surprise. ‘Oh, dear me, no,’ he said. ‘No, I fear that what’s done is done. No, I’m trying to recalibrate the device so that it doesn’t have this unfortunate effect next time.’

  ‘Next time?’ asked Mel.

  ‘Yes, next time,’ explained the Gadget Man. ‘You know, with another subject.’

  The loblolly boy looked at the Gadget Man with incredulity. ‘Why on earth would we want to turn somebody else into a dog?’ he asked. ‘The whole point of the exercise was to turn Benjy into a dog so that he might be more cooperative and Exchange! The last thing we’d want to do is to point that little thing at other people and be surrounded by barking idiots on all sides!’

  ‘I see,’ said the Gadget Man stiffly. ‘So I’ve been wasting my time? Really my dear young people, if that’s the way you feel about it, then I don’t know how I can help you any more.’

  3

  There seemed little more to say or do. Not long after the Gadget Man’s admission, the loblolly boy and Mel made their escape.

  Once back on the footpath, Mel said, ‘I think he’s as bonkers as Benjy!’

  The loblolly boy shrugged. ‘Loose cannon, but I did hope …’ he said.

  Mel looked at him. ‘I know. It’s like the rug’s been pulled from under your feet.’

  ‘Yeah, and you come crashing down on your back with your feet in the air.’

  They stood in silence for a while and then Mel checked her watch. ‘I’d better get back. I’ll take the bus. Mum’s a bit tetchy at the moment.’

  The loblolly boy nodded. ‘I guess so. Better not make things worse.’ He sounded wistful, and Mel saw how he was hurting.

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said.

  ‘As you said before,’ he replied, ‘we gave it our best shot.’

  Mel looked up and down the road, but there was no bus in sight. ‘I wonder if Mum’s heard all about it yet.’

  ‘Will it matter?’

  ‘That policewoman could have called, I suppose,’ said Mel. ‘You know, she was okay, that policewoman.’

  ‘If there’s any problem, just tell your mum what you told her,’ said the loblolly boy. ‘That it really had nothing to do with you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time when Benjy decided to go bananas.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Mel, ‘but Mum doesn’t always see things that way. She’ll give me heaps because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ said the loblolly boy reassuringly.

  ‘What’ll you do?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Kick about the place for a bit. I guess I’ll wait around to see whether Benjy gets better or not.’

  Mel nodded. ‘Yeah, I’d like to know that, too.’ She glanced down the road again. ‘Hey, there’s a bus,’ she said. ‘I’d better rush. See you!’

  ‘Bye,’ called the loblolly boy as Mel hurried away.

  He stood and waited as the bus passed him and pulled up at the stop further down the road. It was only as Mel climbed aboard with an unobtrusive half-wave in his direction that he realised that they hadn’t arranged to meet again.

  4

  The loblolly boy flew yet again back to the park. Back to the drawing board, he thought miserably. Worse, because there didn’t even seem to be any drawing board any more. No direction, no plans, no ideas, no hope.

  He wondered idly where the hospital was. That was at least something to think about. Not today, though, he was too down to even consider it, but perhaps tomorrow. He would take to the sky and somehow find the hospital Benjy had been taken to. This wouldn’t in any way further his cause, of course. It was just something to do to satisfy his curiosity.

  He didn’t bother about the linden tree. He’d spent far too much time in it already. Instead he made for the bench near the stopped floral clock. He’d sit there to see the later afternoon out.

  When he got there, he found somebody waiting for him.

  The Sorcerer was sitting there, almost as he had been the last time, impeccably dressed in his white linen suit, his silver topped cane held before him. The only difference was his buttonhole. Whereas on the previous occasion he had been sporting a pink carnation, he now wore a small scarlet rose.

  The loblolly boy was so despondent he no longer cared enough to be apprehensive of the man.

  ‘I suppose you’ve come to gloat?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, you must admit I gave you fair warning?’

  ‘Fair warning? Fair? I understood you don’t play fair.’

  ‘Never, little man, except when I have an underhand reason for doing so.’

  There seemed no answer to that. The loblolly boy sank down into the seat beside the Sorcerer without attempting any further conversation. He guessed by now that the Sorcerer, like the Captain, did nothing by accident and his waiting for him on the bench would have been quite deliberate. Sooner or later the Sorcerer would make his purpose known.

  ‘It was really quite a remarkable performance,’ observed the Sorcerer at length.

  ‘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 gl
anced 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!’

  5

  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.

  6

  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.

  7

  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.

  8

  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 slee
ve. 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

  1

  Shortly 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.’