“Thank you very much.”
“So you see, gentlemen, in this difficult situation science has conjured up some help for us.”
The experts gather round to examine the device.
“What improvements do you want to make?”
“Firstly, the device only works at a range of six miles; I want to strengthen its power. Secondly, it only captures one incident at a time, but if there’s a fire and a robbery simultaneously, or two muggings on different streets, the numbers and images get mixed up and it’s hard to know what is happening where. Thirdly, the images on the glass aren’t very clear, but I want to see not just the person doing something somewhere, but their face, eyes, nose and mouth – so they can be photographed and identified. I have the plans all ready and there’s just one more year’s work to do. The hardest bit was the beginning – I’ve already slaved away at it for six years. Look at this, gentlemen.”
The inventor shows them his hand.
“As you can see, I only have three fingers on my left hand because a machine took off the other two. I was in the hospital for five months; I thought the whole project was already sunk because I went completely blind.”
The experts bow their heads solemnly.
After that they held several more sessions, but then had nothing more to do, and started to get bored. They all wanted to go home, back to their books and laboratories.
“Things are calm here. We really aren’t needed.”
“No, you must stay,” replied the governments of their countries through their consuls.
“Ah well, that’s too bad,” replied the experts.
Each of them sits in his room, reading, writing, and studying. They meet up less and less often, every second or third day.
“Nothing new,” they say.
They talk about this and that. They have made friends with each other because that’s what scientists usually do – they become like one big family.
“You know, colleagues,” says the astronomer one day, “if Mr. X doesn’t show any more signs of life, I have an idea that might explain the mystery. Well, it’s rather fantastical . . .”
“Go ahead, tell us.”
“What if someone from another planet has been to visit our Earth? If it’s true that there’s life on Mars and the creatures who live there are more knowledgeable than we are . . .”
“So the fairy tale about Star Men would turn out to be true?”
“What’s so strange about it? We actually know so little. When man started to learn and discover, he thought he was very clever. Every schoolboy thinks he knows everything there is to know. What’s so strange about this idea? Rocks – meteors can fall to our Earth, so why shouldn’t a Star Man fall to Earth too? He wandered around, saw there was nothing interesting for him here, and left.”
“Except he’s a bit too dumb for an inhabitant of Mars.”
Everyone bursts into jovial laughter.
And just at that very moment the bell on the emergency device starts ringing. No number shows up, but a foggy image appears on the glass.
“It looks like water flowing. It looks like an island on water.”
Then there’s another ringing noise – it’s the telephone.
Something important has happened because there’s a strict rule that no one is to disturb the experts.
“Hello,” says the expert who has answered.
There’s news: an island has suddenly appeared.
Three days later, there was a castle on the island.
Then they heard that the wizard was living there.
We already know what happened next and how it all ended.
Now let’s go back to Kaytek.
* * *
*The League of Nations was founded after the First World War to preserve international peace. After the Second World War it was replaced by the United Nations.
Chapter Twelve
To Paris – Meeting Zofia – A conversation about fairy godmothers – The chest of gold again – Kaytek’s onward journey – The experts go home
Kaytek’s head is drooping as he drags his feet across the city.
The streets are almost empty. It’s all so alien and gloomy. The stores are closed and the windows in the houses are dark.
“I’ll go see the world!” he decides.
So he goes to the railroad station. He enters a large waiting room and stands at the ticket desk.
“A ticket to Paris, please.”
“For whom?” asks the clerk.
“For me,” says Kaytek.
“Just the one ticket?”
“Just the one.”
“Are you going alone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a passport?”
“No.”
“How much money do you have?”
Kaytek sees there are people looking at him. He starts to feel uneasy. Maybe he’s about to have another adventure? Once again he hasn’t been careful enough – he’s forgotten no one is allowed to travel abroad without the right permit.
“Show me your money,” says the clerk impatiently.
Kaytek shows him a zloty.
Everyone starts to laugh.
“Go back where you came from.”
“He must want to go to France to find work,” someone says.
“Maybe to see his father?” says another person.
“Scram, little guy. Don’t take up our time,” says a third.
The people are in a hurry. They’re all afraid of being late, and they want to sit in the best seat on the train, by the window.
There was a time when Kaytek would have been angry because he doesn’t like people making fun of him, but now he doesn’t care.
“Watch no one steals your zloty.”
“Don’t worry, sir.”
He walks away and mingles with the crowd. Then he thinks:
I want a ticket and a passport. I want a ticket.
There was absolutely no need to go up to the ticket desk. He just didn’t stop to think – as usual.
Keeping his distance from a policeman, he shows his ticket to the inspector. And now he’s on the platform.
He sees a train standing there. The locomotive is puffing heavily.
“Are you a passenger?” asks the conductor.
“Yes,” says Kaytek.
“Then get on board quickly, we’re off.”
Kaytek boards the train and it sets off.
He goes inside a compartment.
There are only two people sitting there: a lady in mourning and a little girl who is also dressed in black.
Kaytek squeezes into a corner seat, closes his eyes and thinks: “I’ve wanted to travel so many times before. Now I’m actually going to faraway countries – it’s my dream come true. So why do I feel so sad?”
He sighs.
“Pity about my nice, peaceful house on the river. What did they have to go and fire at me for? What harm was I doing to them? Was it a bad thing to play music and show everyone a free movie?”
He’s been unfairly treated by his own home town.
“Don’t lean out of the window,” the lady says to the little girl. “A spark might hit you in the eye.”
At once the girl does as she’s been told and sits down.
“Momma, do you remember how last time we came home from Warsaw, Daddy was waiting for us at the station?”
“Of course I do, Zofia.”
“Who’s going to come and meet us now?”
“No one. Andrew will come in the pony trap.”
The girl’s voice seems familiar to Kaytek, and he half opens his eyes.
The girl, Zofia, thought he was asleep. She’s embarrassed when she sees him looking at her, and quickly turns her head.
“They�
�re in mourning,” thinks Kaytek, and is reminded of his grandma.
The lady glances at Kaytek a few times as if wanting to ask him something, but she doesn’t say anything. And Kaytek’s grateful because he doesn’t feel like answering any questions. He knows just what sort of questions they would be, things like: “Where are you going? To see whom? Why alone? How old are you? What grade are you in?”
Grown-ups never talk about themselves, and it’s rude to ask them questions, but they always want to know everything about you.
“Lie down, Zofia. Someone else might come in here later, but for now there’s plenty of room.”
“What about you, Momma?”
“I’ll sit for a bit, but you’re still weak from your illness.”
Kaytek says: “Excuse me, there’s room on my seat if you want to lie down. I can go sit somewhere else if I’m in the way.”
“Not at all. Not a bit,” smiles Zofia’s mom.
And Zofia smiles too – such a lovely smile, so friendly. Kaytek notices they look very much alike.
The lady takes a pillow out of her case, puts it down for Zofia, and covers her.
The fatherless girl looks pale in her black clothes.
Kaytek closes his eyes.
“Why exactly is it that I don’t like girls? Why have I always teased them? They’re quieter than boys and more careful. They have neat exercise books.”
Kaytek wonders and thinks back.
“Whenever we play in the yard at school, I make fun of them and bother them. Whenever they make a garden out of sand and sticks, I smash it up. Whenever they start singing, I yowl and interrupt them. I push them, hit them, and pull their hair. It’s just a joke, but they always cry.”
Kaytek wonders and gives it some thought.
“Maybe it is quite funny when someone gets mad. But not all girls get mad – sometimes they just go away looking sad. It’s bad, nasty, and inhuman to laugh at someone else’s tears. What a lot of dumb things a guy does for lack of interest.”
Kaytek stands at the window and watches as the sparks fly by like little golden snakes, or fiery fish, a whole shower of stars against a black wall of forest.
The steam train blows its whistle, and Zofia starts moving. Then her mom says in a kind, gentle whisper: “It’s all right, little one. Go to sleep.”
That makes Kaytek think of home and his parents. And the lookalike.
“They don’t know. They can’t guess.”
And he’s getting farther and farther away. Will he be gone for long? Maybe forever? Maybe they’ll track him down, or maybe his magic power will suddenly leave him at a vital moment? Kaytek gazes at the black fields.
“How long it is since I talked to anyone! Surely it’s because I’m a wizard that I have to be alone.”
Suddenly he turns away from the window and asks: “Are you going to Paris, ma’am?”
It happens so unexpectedly that he feels confused and blushes.
It has come out stupidly, like nonsense – he sounded so over-familiar. It’s because when you’re in the same train compartment as somebody else, you immediately feel as if they’re an old friend. He already knows what the girl is called, he knows her father’s dead, and he knows Andrew will come to meet them in the pony trap.
But he doesn’t really know them, and the lady might be offended, or she might laugh at him. But she doesn’t – instead she answers calmly.
“What would we do in Paris? I’m glad to be returning home from Warsaw to my refuge. I wanted to leave Zofia there, to go to school. But we were in the square when that strange fight occurred between the cats and dogs. Zofia was extremely frightened and felt so sorry for the animals – she’s so very fond of dogs. Maybe that wasn’t what made her fall ill, I don’t really know, but I think I’d rather have her at home with me. Warsaw is a large and dangerous city – there are so many different illnesses and unfortunate accidents.”
She stops talking, as if she’s trying to think what would be better for Zofia.
And Kaytek is grateful she hasn’t accused him – she didn’t say anything about “the culprit” or “the evildoer.”
And then the lady goes on talking – quietly, as if in confidence, as if seeking Kaytek’s advice: “At school she’d have friends and more fun. It’ll be sad for her at home now. If only she had a sister or a brother . . .”
Suddenly Kaytek decides: “I’ll go to their house instead of going to Paris.”
He isn’t really listening any more, he’s just thinking how to arrange it. What will he do in Paris on his own anyway?
He feels tired and starts yawning.
“What does ‘refuge’ mean?” he thinks. “Is that the name of a village? What does Andrew look like? Do raspberries grow there, is there a summer house, and beehives, and a woodshed?”
Kaytek dozes and thinks by turns, as the train wheels rap against the tracks.
Meanwhile the day is beginning to dawn.
Zofia has woken up. She rubs her eyes and tidies her hair, then goes straight to the window. The sun is just peeping out.
She and Kaytek meet by the window and look each other in the eyes.
“Look, Momma, what lovely sunshine. Come and see the beautiful heather! I must pick some!”
She leans forward and stretches out her arms.
“Be careful, Zofia. Sit down. Let’s have breakfast. Here, take this glass.”
She hands a second glass to Kaytek. She pours some milk, and gives each of them a buttered roll.
“Go ahead, eat up.”
It’s all so simple, with such a kind smile.
They’ve just finished their food and drink when Zofia claps her hands.
“Look, Momma, heather! A whole bouquet of heather. How on earth did it get here?”
“Maybe someone left it behind?”
“We should hand it in to the conductor.”
“No, they’re just ordinary flowers. Take it, if you like them.”
“Ordinary, you say? No, it’s a magic bouquet.”
“All right. So pick up your magic bouquet because we’re just about to get off the train. Goodbye, bon voyage to our dear traveling companion.”
She nods to Kaytek and reaches for her suitcase.
Kaytek hesitates, and then says: “I’m getting off here too.”
“All the better. And how strange – I thought we’d be the only people getting off at our little station . . . Zofia, go and see if Andrew’s there. Here, take the basket. The train only stops for two minutes.”
“I’ll carry your suitcase,” says Kaytek.
“No, it’s heavy.”
“It’s nothing.”
He takes the suitcase in his right hand and the basket in his left. He carries them as if they were feathers.
“You’re strong.”
They alight from the train.
“Oh, there’s Andrew. Over here, please. And where are you going, young sir?”
Kaytek is confused.
“Because if you’re going our way, there’s room in the trap – we can drop you off.”
And so without any magic spells everything happens just the way he wanted. Well, except for the bouquet of heather he conjured up for Zofia and the fact that he’s so strong – but those things don’t really count as magic.
The trap is on its way. They drive up to a small manor house. This is what it must have been like at Grandpa’s house. There’s a flower bed, asters, and a porch with a vine growing up it.
They invite Kaytek to take a rest, and say he can spend the night in the study on the couch.
He agrees.
“Fine. Thank you.”
Only now do they ask: “What’s your name?”
“Antek.”
“Antek! So what are you children going to do now?”
“Oh,
there’s a lot to do,” says Zofia. “I’ll show him the dogs, the hens, the doves, the raspberries, the beehives, and my garden plot – the whole house and garden.”
“But mind you don’t wear yourselves out – you’ve been ill, Zofia, and your guest hasn’t slept all night.”
Zofia is a good guide – she shows him everything and explains it all so understandably. She stops in each spot for just as long as necessary to see and remember. Every time he asks a question she either gives an instant reply, telling what she has seen and knows for sure, or else says at once: “I don’t know. Maybe Mom will know. Maybe Andrew can tell us. We’ll ask the people from the village.”
It’s totally different from at school, totally different from a nature trip.
She never once says Kaytek’s question is unimportant or stupid; she isn’t surprised if he doesn’t know something, and she never says he ought to know that by now.
So Kaytek spends the whole day as if he’s in nature class, right up to dinner time and also after dinner. He’s even forgotten about his own garden on the island.
That evening, her mom hands Zofia some keys.
“I’m going into town tomorrow. I have some business to attend to. I’ll be home late. You will have to take care of things for me and Andrew.”
Mom explains what she has to see to in town, and what Zofia has to do at home. She even asks Zofia’s advice, as if talking to a grown-up, because there are adults who respect and trust children – those are Kaytek’s favorite people.
So the conversation he has with Zofia’s mom the next day is painful, difficult, and sad.
“Come in the study, my boy,” she says. “Sit down.”
On the desk there is some Polish and foreign money, and a train ticket to Paris.
“As you know, we met on the train. We alighted together. You’re here with us, and you’re welcome to stay. You can stay here as long as you like. But on one condition.”
Kaytek the Wizard Page 14