Magic

Little Billy waved his magic wand reciting the incantation that had saved Harry Potter from the dementors so many times before, yet for all his practice, nothing happened. He’d read all the books and watched the movies, he’d studied the folk lore are memorised all the spells that made Harry Potter and his friends heroes of the wizarding world, but after much tireless effort Little Billy seemed no closer to casting his first spell. And time was running out.

The school yard bully had challenged Little Billy to a pistol duel at high noon on the third Wednesday after the Winter solstice. Little Billy wasn’t quite sure when that was precisely, but was assured by his friends that he would be dead before the end of the week. Being a practical sort of chap Little Billy assumed the bully was exaggerating, but his doubt effortlessly dissipated on Tuesday at high noon, when a pistol duel in the playground resulted in the untimely death of a student.

The entire affair seemed rather odd quite frankly. Little Billy had woken early that Tuesday morning, readied himself for school as usual, kissed his mother goodbye and headed off to catch the school bus. Lessons were as boring as ever followed by lunch; a little before midday. All the kids headed to the playground when suddenly the school bully announced the duel would take place for “grievous and unjustified insult cast against his God fearing soul.” The children had stopped their games and rather confused by the accusation but excited nonetheless, they quickly gathered to observe this new development.

Shackled and obviously terrified, a little girl of perhaps 9 or 10 years old was being led by the art teacher to the middle of the playground. She quickly turned her head left and right, her gaze darting to each of the children staring curiously at her. When without warning she hurled insult after filthy insult at the crowed, damning them to eternal hell fire in language to make sailors blush and spitting furiously at all within her range. Her brown tongue snaked out from between her rotten teeth and even from a distance she reeked of an odour so foul it evaded all description.

On seeing the poor wretch, Little Billy could not help wondering how this all came to be. After all, he’d finger painted with the little girl just a few minutes ago and she seemed perfectly normal. Being the curious sort he was, he asked a nearby teacher to explain this sudden and rather unexpected turn of events, but was told to “let not the evil ways cloud thy judgement. She be of heinous upbringing, and deserveth is she of the cleansing torment of death. Heil Bully. He is the way.” And once again, the medieval rantings and 18^th century attire of the school staff didn’t quite fit with this time or place, but not wanting to be an unnecessary bother, Little Billy helped himself to a handful of rotten vegetables (which were suddenly available in wooden pails when he’d turned around), and joined the rest of the crowd in pelting the evil child.

It was only a few minutes before she’d been ushered to the middle of the playground where the school bully leaned casually against the see saw, picking last night’s supper from his teeth with a sharpened chicken bone. He stood a little over 6 feet tall and bore battle scars from the various wars he’d served in. Playground gossip said he’d been forced to leave school early and before long was recruited into the Gulf war back in the early nineties. He’d later served as a mercenary in South America and finally got into drug trafficking for the Columbian cartels. It was only a year ago he’d decided to pick up the tattered remains of his life and live on the straight and narrow, starting by continuing his education. But having never completed primary school, he was forced to continue his schooling in Little Billy’s grade.

The righteous headmaster served as mediator. The little girl was handed a water pistol; after all, the school took the safety of its pupils very seriously. The bully was allowed to choose from a selection of well maintained automatic weapons and settled on two AK-47s and a few hand grenades. Technically he also carried a hunting knife which gave him an advantage, but the headmaster ruled he could keep it, but would not be allowed to use it unless the knife was thrown. Civilised conduct prohibited both hand-to-hand combat and close range stabbing.

Standing back to back, the little girl and bully took 10 paces away from one another, pistols in hand. With the crowd watching nervously, the headmaster instructed they turn and fire.

It was a close thing, but the bully had proven the better. The little girl’s body was buried on consecrated ground and she was marked absent for the remainder of the school year. She never did progress to the next grade, and served as a constant reminder to all students of the danger of absenteeism.

Little Billy wasn’t quite sure what it was that he’d done to insult the bully, or when for that matter, but the gun smugglers were delivering another shipment as school ended for the day and the school gardener was seen collecting the less edible vegetables. The woodwork teacher smiled at Little Billy before measuring his height, then worked vigilantly on the coffin. More than a tad worried, Little Billy returned home and explained the situation to his parents who simply stated that “fair is fair”, to which Little Billy had no response.

And so, after learning little from the Chuck Norris marathon on television, Little Billy turned his thoughts to the boy wizard who’d suffered so much and triumphed against all odds and placed his last hopes on magic. His eyes closed wearily repeating yet another incantation, dreading the coming day.