So he gives a command the magic way.
And it works. The klutz jumps the rope. A huge long way. So easily – about twenty yards.
“Well done!”
The boys open their mouths wide in amazement. The klutz cringes in terror.
“Again. Do it again!” they shout.
But he’s crying. He refuses, he won’t jump a second time. He doesn’t know what helped him over it.
Kaytek is smiling. “What a silly crowd,” he thinks. Because it feels good to know something no one else knows, to understand what no one else can understand, and to be able to do what others can’t.
Yes! That was a magic spell.
But so what? What if it wasn’t Kaytek’s command that made the boy jump the rope?
He did have some stronger proof.
The teacher gives them an exercise. Kaytek isn’t in the mood, so he doesn’t write it down. He’ll copy it off a pal in recess.
But he doesn’t like to ask.
Maybe the teacher won’t check?
The teacher calls a boy up to give the answer, then another one. Finally she tells Kaytek to show her his exercise book.
It’s a nasty moment. He had actually decided he’d always do her lessons, because he likes her, and he knows she likes him.
What will be, will be, he thinks. I want – I demand – I command. Let it be written.
He goes up to her boldly. He hasn’t even opened the exercise book. But he has a feeling it’s bound to work.
The exercise book feels hot, then cold, then normal. He hands it over.
The teacher opens it and reads.
“Very good. To your place.”
Kaytek goes back and sits down.
He looks in the book, and the exercise is right there on the page.
The writing is black, normal, then it goes pale – he can hardly see it – and it’s gone.
He sighs. He feels tired. His head is spinning.
Then came the spell with the bicycles.
It’s recess.
The boys are chasing about, shouting, crowding and pushing. It’s boring. Total chaos.
Kaytek’s annoyed, so he thinks: Make everyone ride a bike.
He’s horrified by what he sees next.
That’s enough!
If it had gone on longer, they’d have been injured, they would have broken their arms and legs.
Because they don’t know how to ride bikes, and anyway, how can they all fit in the schoolyard, when they’re going fast as well?
Silence reigns.
An ominous silence.
Kaytek is pale and in a sweat.
Make them forget, he orders.
And so it ends happily.
Only one of them is lying on the ground, holding his head. He doesn’t know if someone pushed him, or if he just fell over.
Only that one had fallen off his bike and gotten a bump.
All the boys have forgotten, and only the janitor is looking around uneasily. Maybe because he’s old. But he obviously suspects something.
Then Kaytek sits on a bench and thinks what would have happened, how it would have ended if he hadn’t immediately said that was enough.
It looks as if spells that last a long time are harder.
Why do some of them work at once, and others not at all?
Maybe sometimes real wizards also want to do something, but can’t? Maybe sometimes it comes out differently from how they wanted? In fairy tales they talk about spells that didn’t work.
Kaytek is only a student so far. He’s studying, learning, and experimenting.
The next spell was like this:
There’s an arithmetic test.
The teacher dictates the problem.
“Too hard,” cry the boys. “We don’t know! We can’t do it!”
And Kaytek thinks: Make the ink change into water.
And at once someone says: “Please, sir, the ink won’t write. It’s water.”
So the teacher sends for the janitor.
“I filled the inkwells yesterday,” says the janitor. “With just the same ink as in the whole school. The boys must have sprinkled something into them.”
The monitor doesn’t know, he hasn’t seen anything. There was ink. No one touched the inkwells. How could he not have noticed?
The teacher licks his finger to taste the water once, twice, then spits it out and shrugs his shoulders. He’s pretending to understand what’s going on.
“Just wait. I’m going to tell the headmaster. The whole class will answer for this. Enough of this hooliganism. You won’t get away with it. You can write with pencils.”
But they don’t have any pencils. So there was no test.
Kaytek’s ninth spell caused even greater confusion.
They were having a handicraft lesson.
In fact, handicraft can be fun if the teacher makes an effort and the boys do what he says. But if not, handicraft is even more tedious than a regular lesson.
Kaytek sees there’s a long time to go till the end of the lesson.
For a week now every single spell has worked. So he thinks: I’ll give it a try.
I want. I command. Make the bell go now.
And it does. But it’s different from usual. The sound seems to come from above, as if the bell were flying through the air and ringing.
The boys pile out of the classroom wondering why the lesson’s over so soon, and feeling thrilled by the surprise.
The headmaster comes out of his office in a fury.
“What’s going on here? Why? Who?”
“I didn’t ring it,” says the janitor.
“So who did?”
“I don’t know.”
The old man stands there with tears in his eyes.
“Headmaster, either believe me, or don’t. I am not drunk. It’s not the first year I’ve been working at this school. I know what kind of tricks the boys get up to. And I tell you: there are ghosts or something in charge at this school.”
“All right, all right. Ghosts! Please come to my office. Boys, back to your classrooms!”
Kaytek stretched and yawned, feeling discouraged.
It was never going to be possible to do something really interesting. It always seemed to end a bit stupidly somehow.
So he was a wizard – and what of it?
He felt sorry for the janitor. What had the old fellow done wrong? And the headmaster had taken him into his office and was probably telling him off.
Kaytek really didn’t want to upset anyone.
Then two serious spells worked for Kaytek – one straight after the other.
One of his classmates is a rich boy.
He brings various goodies for breakfast. He’s greedy and sly – he never offers any of it to anyone else. He brings in cream cakes, then licks the paper with his great big tongue.
First thing in the morning Kaytek sees the glutton getting out his package. Kaytek stares hard, takes a deep breath of air, and thinks: Make him have a frog instead of breakfast.
At once there’s a scream.
“Frogs in the classroom!”
The greedy boy is goggle-eyed, frozen to the spot as if paralyzed. The frog hops off, and the rest of the boys are laughing.
“Look at that! He’s brought a frog for his breakfast.”
“It’s sure to be a foreign one!”
“With cream on top!”
“If he brought it, let him eat it.”
Just then the teacher comes into the classroom.
She makes a long speech.
“That’s not a clever joke. But what’s worse is that someone has stolen two ham rolls, a cake, and an orange.”
Kaytek can see he has upset the teacher, so he wants to console her.
/> Make a rose appear on the table in front of the teacher.
Then he’s sorry he said that, because something stabs at his heart and something yanks painfully inside him – it’s like an electric shock, or like a tooth being pulled, as if that rose has been torn from his chest.
And there it is, lying on the table.
That other time the teacher asked: “Who took my pen? It was here a moment ago.”
This time the lady teacher asks: “Who put this rose here? I don’t want it. You boys take too many liberties.”
Then the boys ask her: “Please smell the rose, miss. Please take it. We’ll pay for his breakfast.”
Some of them are asking for real, others are just clowning. Because they’re pleased when something like this happens.
After the lesson they took up a collection.
“Put a penny in the cap for the hungry glutton.”
They bought twelve rolls, a dozen – a whole bagful.
“There you are. Eat these as a snack, after your frog.”
Kaytek has grown proud, stand-offish and impatient.
Whatever happens, at once he says: “Do you want a smack in the face? You dope! Just look at him: the jackass is playing the wise guy.”
No one likes him anymore because he keeps asking for trouble. Now he’s even started provoking the older boys.
One day he has a quarrel with a boy in the sixth grade. He’s really getting into hot water.
They’ve surrounded him in a circle. They’re all staring, expecting to see a fight.
“Are you going to call me a jackass too?” says the older boy.
“Sure I will. And I’ll give you ears like a jackass as well.”
Kaytek has a small mirror in his pocket, which he uses to reflect sunbeams on the wall, even in class during lessons.
He hands the boy the mirror and says: “You’ve got them. Take a look.”
He focuses his mind, bending his wizard’s will like a bow. He demands and he commands.
The boy looks in the mirror: his ears have grown longer and sprung upward. And then they’re gone.
What the heck? Was that real or was it just an illusion?
“Where did you get this mirror? Sell it to me. Teach me how that’s done.”
They’ve forgotten about the quarrel. They think it’s some kind of trick.
“Give it back,” says Kaytek, with an effort.
Now the other boys are scared. They can see he’s gone pale, and his lips have turned blue. He’s leaning against a wall.
They run off, and Kaytek is left alone.
“The spell for changing people into animals must be really tough if just the ears have worn me out so badly.”
He feels weak and lonely.
He imagined it all quite differently in the days when he so badly longed to be a wizard
Until he did his thirteenth spell, the last one in a month: the flies.
The teacher is explaining something. Kaytek isn’t listening. He’s thinking about this and that. He doesn’t even know where he is and what’s happening around him.
“Did the rose I gave the lady teacher disappear at once too? Maybe quite the opposite – maybe it won’t ever wilt or dry up, because it’s magical, it’s enchanted.”
He gazes at the stove, at the ceiling, at the walls.
He notices a fly on the stove.
The fly is moving upward, quickly, as if it’s in a hurry and is worried about being late. Then it stops, as if it has just remembered something, and goes back down again. And so on, three times over: up and down, up and down the stove. Then it flies away and disappears.
What was it looking for on the stove, and what made it take off like that?
Kaytek looks around, and sees a fly sitting on the wall. And the same thing happens: it goes up three times, then down three times. Maybe it’s the same one?
And then he sees four flies on the ceiling: two big ones and two little ones. They’re marching funnily in pairs. Then a fifth one flies up.
The teacher has turned around and is staring at the class.
“Did you understand that?”
Then Kaytek gets a fright because the teacher tells him to repeat what he’s just said.
At once Kaytek thinks: Make a fly sit on the teacher’s nose.
And the fly is there, waiting for further orders.
Make it three flies . . . he thinks. Make it five!
All five flies come and sit on the teacher’s nose.
The teacher waves his hands about, but the flies keep coming back, because flies are persistent.
That should have been the end of it, but as if someone else were giving the orders for him, involuntarily Kaytek thinks: Make it a thousand flies. Ten thousand – on his nose.
At once, a huge swarm of flies comes crashing through the open window, a whole pack of them.
Kaytek hides under the bench, pretending he’s dropped his pen and is busy picking it up.
The teacher says something or shouts. There’s no sound, just bzzzzz – buzzing.
Then the teacher rushes out and slams the door.
There’s laughter. And stamping. The boys are banging on their desks with delight.
Kaytek crawls from under the bench, and the flies fly out the window in clusters.
“What’s all that screaming?”
In comes the headmaster – and at once there’s an investigation.
“It wasn’t us. The teacher saw: they came in through the window.”
“Maybe they’re forming a new swarm?”
“They were flies, not bees.”
“I thought they were locusts.”
“Maybe they’ve gone crazy?”
The lady teacher took the class for the rest of the lesson. Then all the boys went home, while the teachers held an official meeting.
They closed the school for two days and had a big clean-up. They even wanted to repaint the walls.
A notice was hung on the gate saying: “No classes until Thursday because of renovations.”
* * *
*Wawel Hill is a real place in the Polish city of Krakow. Krakus was the legendary founder of the city.
***The philosopher’s stone was the legendary substance that alchemists tried to develop in order to turn base matter into gold, and also to produce an elixir of life. Perpetual motion describes a hypothetical mechanism that could go on working forever. Occult science is the mysterious science of magic and the supernatural.
***Madey the robber chief, Master Twardowski, and Boruta the devil are all characters from Polish folklore.
Chapter Five
Kaytek’s spells at home and in the street – Sonolo, kasolo, symbolo – The first permanent spell – Danger
They say money doesn’t bring happiness.
“Health matters more,” says Mom. “So what if someone’s rich if he’s also sick?”
Mom is sure to think like that, because she’s had operations. She’s been in the hospital twice, once for quite a long time.
“Knowledge matters more,” says Dad. “You can lose all your money, but knowledge stays with you forever. A scholar does well in life.”
And his dad asks Kaytek to apply himself to his books and be hard-working and obedient at school.
“The greatest treasure a man can have is a good heart and a clear conscience,” says Grandma. “A good man is never troubled. He gets on with other people, he’ll never offend anyone, he’ll be forgiving, and he’ll always find friends who will help him in need. And his life will go by peacefully without harm to anyone.”
But Kaytek reckons wealth is important too.
If his dad had money, Mom could go to the countryside and she’d be sure to get well.
If his dad had money, he could set up
his own workshop – he’d have a place of his own and wouldn’t have to put up with other people’s griping.
And, if he has a fortune, a good man can share it with a poor one.
So Kaytek wants to be rich.
He wants to have a hen that lays golden eggs.
One evening he went into the attic and tried to do some spells.
Please, I demand, I want to have a hen that lays golden eggs.
Sonolo-kasolo-symbolo . . .
Pramara-rumkara. I want, I command.
Lorem, ipsum, karakorum …
Nomen, omen, sesame, simile. Let me have a magic hen!
He doesn’t know what language he’s speaking or what the spells mean. They’re words he has never heard, or familiar ones he’s twisted . . .
He looks through a small window at the stars, he looks hard at his cap, where the hen is supposed to appear, then shuts his eyes again.
He holds his breath, then breathes deeply and slowly, then rapidly again.
He locks his fingers together, then spreads them wide, then clenches them into a fist.
He raises his head, then lets it droop.
He talks loudly, then tries a whisper.
Nothing at all happens.
There’s no hen, and not a single egg, not even a tiny one – as if to spite him.
As golden eggs haven’t worked, he tries silver. That doesn’t work either. “Maybe it has happened for the best?” he tries to console himself. Because where would he hide the hen, and how would he sell its eggs?
What would he say if they asked where he got it?
He went up to the attic three times.
And came back down very tired.
No. Better learn how to find money the usual way – in the street.
He’d start from a small amount, that’d be easier. A zloty to begin with.
It was a shame to be a wizard but not know how to do anything. He didn’t have any spells of his own – he didn’t know what or how or when. As if it wasn’t he, but someone else who was doing the magic for him.
Why did the spells work at school, but not in the street?
So he starts with a small one: I want to find a zloty!
Kaytek the Wizard Page 5