Monday, March 30, 2009

Finitum 6 (EN)

6. Mondays Are Always a Pain

Giovanni followed Circe, realizing that if you took two left turns in a row at any point in the hallways you ended up in the parlor eventually. Then, from the parlor you were able to find the front entrance to the lodge through the French doors at the back of the parlor. Also, he realized he was feeling kind of… fond of the little girl. He was really surprised at how easily he had taken a liking to Circe, since she was at least three or four years younger than he was, and also since he was not the kind of boy that took a liking to anyone, ever, much less to a girl who talked continuously.

Even though it only took them about two minutes to get to the front entrance, Circe managed to ask him what was his name, his age, his mom's name, where he was from, what was his favorite movie of all time, what was his favorite color, when was his birthday, did he have any girlfriends, did he like Coke or Pepsi, what kind of music he was into, could she listen to one of his songs in his iPod, did he like television, and would have probably carried on if they hadn't arrived at the front lawn to find everyone there, ready to start the chores for the day. Mr Wozniak was already waiting for them.

"Alright, today we do some wood chopping. We're gonna need lots of fire logs, kids: Winters here are snowy and cold! I have the axes ready, follow me to the shed."

The shed was about fifty yards away from the main lodge, behind the first line of the forest trees. Walking next to him, Giovanni exchanged some pleasantries with Mr Wozniak about how he'd slept last night and if he liked breakfast, while they walked there. When they got to the shed, everybody blanched a little when they saw the huge pile of logs there. It looked as if someone had piled an area the size of a basketball court with stacks of logs twenty-feet high.

"Oh, don't worry, kids, you don't have to finish them all today. We only need two or three cords of fire logs. Let's see how much we can get done today."

"Mr Wozniak," asked one of the younger boys, "isn't one cord a pile four by four by eight feet large?"

"Look at the big brain on Bryan!," beamed Wozniak, "That's right! Look, lemme show you what I need you to do…"

For the next half-hour Mr Wozniak showed everyone how to split logs to the right size and how to pile them into the nearby rusty trailer. When everyone had their gloves and goggles on, and had been divided in pairs, they started their chore of the day. Giovanni wasn't sure it was such a good idea to have a bunch of kids swinging axes in close proximity with each other, but everybody seemed willing to be extra careful with each other. He was pulled aside by Mr Wozniak, and they walked away a few paces, just out of earshot.

"Look, Giovanni, I need to bring you up to speed about what's going on here, why you were sent for, and what The School is all about. I'm sorry we couldn't get you six weeks ago, for the beginning of the semester. So I'm gonna have to give you the abridged version of the orientation. But you seem to be a pretty tough kid, so I'm hoping none of the secrets I'm about to tell you will bend you out of shape… For starters, the brochures says we are a College Preparatory School, but that's not entirely accurate."

Giovanni had learned long ago the art of silence. He just arched an eyebrow, meaning for Wozniak to continue.

"Look, many of the kids here are just like you, so don't think you are the only one. Many kids here didn't know they had the Magick, and they come from families that had never displayed any skills. But, all of the sudden, one day they find themselves doing strange stuff that shouldn't be possible, and our scouts detect them and convince their parents to send them to The School, so that we can teach them the proper way to use their natural gifts. And this is what happened with you, mostly."

"Well, I ain't got no magic in me… Never done nothing extraordinary, that I can think of…"

"Really? Well, in your family there has been another rather extraordinary person with the Gift."

"What, Aunt Marge? My mom told me she came to this school when they were kids… But she was just a big weirdo."

"What! Look, Marge Wingrove's the stuff of legends, boy!" Mr Wozniak seemed annoyed, and with his size, it was rather alarming to see him scowl. "She was the most Gifted one in the Twentieth Century, I'll have you know!"

"Alright, chill out… Jeez, man, I'm just telling you how she looked to me when I was a little kid, okay? Not my fault she acted all whack… Anyway, how was I supposed to know that she was a good magician? I mean, was she better than David Copperfield at least?" That was as close as Giovanni ever got to an apology.

Mr Wozniak snorted with contempt. "Ha! Copperfield only performs tricks, kid! I'm talking about real Magick! But you'll have time to get used to the idea." Wozniak calmed down immediately. "First, I hear you have some catching up to do with your regular school stuff, so you're in for a rough time with the Furies. But in the mean time, I want you to be extra mindful of the lessons you will be learning with Dr Doe, Professor Benoni, and myself, okay? Okay, then… Ah, and one more thing: I know you're a tough cookie, but don't let the Thompson brothers and Garret Feldman provoke you into kicking their butts. By the looks of it, you can take on all three at once in a fair fight, but those kids come from families that have had the Magick in them for generations, and they have some pretty nasty tricks up their sleeve. I don't wanna have to come down hard on any of you, so don't give me a reason, alright? If they keep bullying you, just let me know and I'll have them straightened out. Now, what questions do you have?"

"Erm… So, you guys really believe you are wizards and witches?"

"No, no, not at all! We believe in Magick! The witchcraft stuff we leave to our British cousins! Ah, ha, ha, ha!" Wozniak actually tilted his head backwards to guffaw. "You'll learn all about that in your classes, but suffice it to say that we believe strongly in our inherent humanity."

Giovanni raised his eyebrow again.

"What I mean to say," Wozniak continued, "is that we believe in the power of the Will over Reality. We believe in living in our modern society as a part of it. Our Magick is only an aspect of our individuality, just like musicians, for example: They do extraordinary things when they do music, but are just regular people the rest of the time. Our British cousins are a bit more…, well, say the truth and shame the Devil, my granny used to say…, the Brits are rather Medieval. They've cut themselves out of the regular course of human History and have decided to live in a fantasy world of their own making. And then they wonder how come each year there's fewer of them… No, like I said, we are part of the regular society. We just do extraordinary things. Anyway, let's get to work! You know how to split logs? Yes? Good, you take the first turn: you split and I pile the logs. Then, ten minutes later we switch, ready?"

By lunch time, Cerulean Pod could hardly walk, they were so sore from splitting so many logs. They almost completed one cord of fire logs that day.



To Be Continued…

No comments: