joegoda | Mad Wizard - A B&P story (Reply)

"Now," began Bags, "keep in mind, I don't know everything that happened, I can only tell you what I saw. I'm sure there was a lot of stuff that I never knew about. Pockets told me a lot, but that was Pockets talking, and sometimes what he told me was pretty weird. Okay?" He looked from face to face, getting an agreement from all of them.

"All right." Chug of beer and big draw of breath, and "It was a good morning. I didn't get beat up, and I didn't have to beat anyone else up. Pockets had stuck himself away in our room, reading some book about the nature of the universe, I'm sure. Anyway, he was somewhere I wasn't for a change. We had met a few years before that, see, and since that time, we were pretty much together. Where I was, he was. Where he was, trouble would follow, so I had to be there. On that day, we weren't together, cuz reading just isn't my idea of a good time. I like it, but secrets of the universe? No way. Give me something I can see, taste, smell or feel. All that hocus pocus is just that, if you ask me.

Grizelda snorted, and Bags, giving her the 'who's telling this story?' look, added, "All right, so I've seen a few odd things I can't explain. That doesn't mean there's not some explanation, and usually it's related to Pockets somehow."

"I was doing my chores, cleaning the dining room, when the nuns came for me. They asked me if I had seen Pockets. I said no, even though I did. They were holding their three foot rulers, and I could tell they meant business. They told me then to go find him, and bring him with me to the main hall. I nodded and took off to get him, because when the nuns speak, nobody, and I mean nobody, disobeys." he thumped the table. "To this day, I still worry that I'll hear their voices when I do something wrong."

"So I skedaddled up to our room, tossed open the door and told him that the nuns wanted him. 'Course he wasn't where I was looking, so I wasted my breath, or so I thought, till I heard him ask 'What did I do now?' I still didn't see him, so I asked him where he was. He started talking to me giving me clues, and I eventually found him on top of the closet. It was a long thing, long enough to hold the clothes of twenty kids. There was a gap at the top, just about two hands wide. He had squeezed himself inside of that, hiding from the other kids. He said it was for privacy, but I suspected he just didn't want to get beat up while he read.

I asked him how he could read up there, and he showed me a mirror he had snuck from one of the girls rooms. He said the refraction was very good and he had no problem at all. I believed him, because I had never known him to lie. Maybe that's why I became such a good friend to him."

"Anyway, I told him that he better shag his ass, cuz the nun were looking for him, and no, I didn't know why they wanted to see him. I also told him that it wasn't just him they wanted to see, it was us, because I was to bring him with me."

"He and I discussed who it might have been that ratted us out. I mean, I never beat anyone up just for no good reason, and that reason was always Pockets. And he didn't go out of his way to cause trouble. He just did. It was like it was something that just sorta followed him, because he was just weird.

He'd be out on the grounds, cleaning or whatever the nuns set him to do, and he'd be talking to himself about Gods knew what. Some of the other kids, like Tommy No-nose would come by, hear him talking and jus start working on him, poking fun or something. When Pockets didn't respond, or worse, responded with something that the other kids didn't understand, they just decided that it was time to explain their opinion with fists, boots, whatever they had close.

That was when I would step in. Pockets didn't yell out, he didn't cry. He was a tough lil guy, disappearing into that big brain of his to avoid the hurt. I know he still does it, and I wish I could do it too. But there was a connection between us, so when the beating started, I'd have to drop whatever I was doing and go take up for him.

No matter where he was, I could find him, and when he went inside himself, it was like he just disappeared, and no matter what I was doing, it was such and empty space, I'd have to go find him, y'know? Like knowing that one of your kids is in trouble."

He looked around and caught a few nods from the parents in the crowd. He looked at Damien and said "How's the beer holding up?"

"Just fine, chief", the barkeep said. "This may be a banner night for me. I might have to have you tell a story every night."

"Fat chance of that. I 'spect to tell this once, and let it go after that. Someone wants to read about it, they'll have to go to the library and get the book on it."

That got a laugh from the crowd. "No, really." Bags said. "Pockets tells me there's a book about us up there. From where I don't know, but if he says it's so, I believe him. Go check it out."

"Anyway," he continued, "Enough of that. I could babble bout what's so weird about Pockets for the rest of the day. What I'm telling is the story of the mad wizard."

"Yeah, and I wish you'd get to it" Damien said. "All that 'I'm so connected' crap is starting to put me to sleep."

Grizelda tossed a peanut at Damien, and told Bags to go on.

"Okay. So I got Pockets off the closet and down the main hall, which was this big square room made of big massive blocks of stone. There were no windows, just little slits like you see in the Keep. There were four doors, one in the middle of each wall, each leading toward a different direction. Pockets used to figure it was designed that way, possibly for some religious reason, before it became an orphanage."

"The south door led to the outside, which was a place we rarely went, unless it was to tend the little yard. The north led to the nun's quarters, which was a place you did not want to go, no matter what. The few that were called there came back quieter, by a far piece. To the east was the common room, the dinning area, and the little library. The west was the dormitory, showers, and makeshift hospital, which is where I met Pockets, but that's a whole nuther story."

"So there we stood, at the west doorway, looking in. The nuns didn't see us yet, and that was just fine by us. We just stood and listened."

"There was an old man there, long white beard, skinny as hell, and wearing a tall peaked hat. Yes, I know it sounds like every child's vision of a wizard, but that was what the guy was wearing. I think if he'd thought about it, he would have had lil stars embroidered on the long robe he was wearing."

"Anyway, he was talking to the nuns, saying how he didn't need two boys, just one. One exceptional boy, he said. One that seemed to be lost in the clouds. A boy that seemed to be not quite of this world. I remember he said exactly those words, and I remember thinking that it sounded just like Pockets."

"The nuns were telling the old man that they had a boy exactly like that, but it was a package deal. They said they would sell him the boy, but the old man had to take the boy's muscle bound bodyguard, since they seemed inseparable. I gathered that I was the muscle bound bodyguard. That didn't bother me a bit, but it did kinda of hurt my feelings when they described me as a bit dull witted. I always thought of myself as cautious."

"The head nun turned her head our direction, mentioning to the other nuns that we should have been there by now. Pockets heard her, and told me to run after him. Before I had a chance to ask him what he meant, the little squirt took off like a shot, running full speed into the hall. I had no chance but to run in after him. Pockets had his head turned back towards me and ran full speed into the head nun, knocking her off her feet. Let me tell you, that did not make her any more pleasant to deal with. We used to call her hammerhead, and it was for a good reason."

"When she stood up, she grabbed Pockets by one ear, drug him in front of her and said 'Here's your boy.'"

"Well, the old man took Pockets by the hand and turned him this way and that, examining his skull for size, shape and texture, I guess. He pulled up Pockets' right hand and mentioned that it was fairly unlined. Something important in palm reading, I guess." He shrugged. "You'd have to ask Griz bout 'that."

After wetting his whistle, he continued. "The wiz pulled out a measuring stick, and a tape and measured Pockets for size, shape, round and height. When he was finished, he asked a few simple questions, like if the planet was round or flat, why the sky was blue, what caused clouds, that sort of thing. Me, I had just a bare notion that the planet was round, had no idea why the sky was blue, and couldn't care less what caused clouds. But Pockets, well, he knew every answer there was to what ever the old man asked. In the end, the man was satisfied, because he nodded his head and said 'He'll do.' He tossed a bag that clinked at the head nun."

"Then he turned to me and asked 'Is that the mule?' Well, let me tell you, I would have taken his head off at that if there hadn't been the nuns around. Asking if I was a mule? I can take being called just about anything, but pure disrespect? Anyway, I just stood there and let him examine me. What else could I do? I figured that if it would get me out of the orphanage, how bad would it be, even if I was just going to be a beast of burden."

"The old man checked my teeth, the size of my arms, and that was about it. He didn't ask me any questions, just finished his examination, turned to the other nuns and said he would take me, but he wouldn't pay extra for me. That was all right with the nuns. They already complained that I ate more than two of any other boys."

The head nun came over to Pockets and me and said 'You two are now with this man. His name is M. Fletcher, and you will do whatever he requires.' And having been well trained by the last five years, we both knew better than to ask any questions. We just said 'Yes Ma'am' like the little sheep they raised there.

"M. Fletcher looked at me and ordered me to gather what things the two of us had and follow him. I told him that we only had the clothes on our back, and he nodded and just started out the door to the south. Pockets, though, he remembered he was reading a book and asked me to go back and get it."

"M. Fletcher just patted Pockets on the head and said 'Boy, there will be hundreds of books to read where you're going.' We walked out the door and that will was the last we saw of the orphanage for the next year."