PART THREE: THE WIZARD KNOWS BEST

What happened last time: Cousins Aiden and Liam were on a fantasy quest across the enchanted land within the Amazing Sandbox. They successfully overcame the first obstacle by crossing a bridge, guarded by Chuck — a Troll-in-Training. Likewise, they navigated past a small dragon that thought guarding the second obstacle by means of playing Pink Floyd albums over a 54-speaker sound system was a pretty good idea. Neither the troll nor the dragon were very accomplished at stopping quests.

The two intrepid adventures wandered down the trail that took them deeper into the enchanted forest. Eventually (because you know it had to happen sooner or later), a wizard appeared in a clearing a short distance from the trail.

He was tall for a wizard, but kind of short compared to other grown-ups. He wore his gray hair in a long pony-tail tucked up under a light blue cap, and tossed handfuls of strange powders into a small fire as he mumbled odd incantations that began with, “Oh spirits of the ZZoom…” and ended with bright flashes of color leaping from the flames.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” boomed the wizard’s voice. He had been sitting with his back to Aiden and Liam, who had been crouching behind a Rose-of-Sharon bush. Both boys silently wondered how the blue capped wizard could have known they were there.

“Because I am the wizard and that is what we do — we know things,” answered the little man before the boys could ask, aloud.

“That’s a little irritating,” mumbled Liam. “How did you know what we were thinking?”

“Well, of course, you know about the Wizard Rules 1 thru 5…” began the conjurer, as he tossed another handful of powder into the fire. He began the conversation with, “Of course you know…,” only because he knew they didn’t know.

“Never heard of ‘em,” answered Aiden, honestly and politely.

“Ah, yes,” the shaman began, with a laugh. “ But, I have.” With that, he grabbed his hand-carved walking stick, rose from his perch by the fire, and approached the two boys. “That is why I know things, and you don’t know why I know things.” A sly, mischievous, smile crossed his weathered face as he joined the two on the trail. “Rules one thru five are the absolutely, without a doubt, most important rules of wizardry. Without them, a wizard is just a strange old man sitting by a fire in the woods.”

“So what are rules six thru — well — six thru whatever, for?” asked Aiden.

“Oh, just basic stuff, like checkbook balancing and porcupine meatball recipes.”

“So what is your deal, then?” asked Liam, growing somewhat impatient. “What gate are you guarding and how do we get past the third obstacle?” The two had made it past the first two obstacles, guarded by a troll and a dragon, without even breaking a sweat. Liam was sure that the wizard would not present much of a challenge, either.

“No gate. No obstacle. No deal,” laughed the sorcerer. “I’m not here to stop you from continuing on your quest. I’m here to help you decide which way you want to go.”

“Which way to go?” thought the cousins in simultaneous silence. “This path only goes one way and that is the way we are going.”

“Nope. This path goes in two very different directions. That way…” the wizard lifted his walking stick and pointed down the trail that continued on into the forest, “…is the way you have been going. This way…” the wizard shifted his staff to his other hand and pointed down the trail in the opposite direction, “…is the way you have come.”

The wizard looked at the boys with piercing eyes and a sly grin.

“Answer one small question and then you may decide which way you want to go.”

“Bring it on,” challenged Liam.

“Which would you rather do, walk deeper into a dark, scary forest, or go back to your mothers, who are waiting with milk and cookies?”

The two cousins looked at each other and then scampered back the way they had come — running past the dragon (who was now comfortably numb) and the troll (who was in his hut, boning up for a test on the Big Book of Riddles), and headed right back to their mothers, who had been waiting at the edge of the Amazing Sandbox with warm cookies and cold milk.

“Silly little boys,” laughed the wizard, to himself. “The only thing I don’t know is how that troll and dragon ever got their jobs.”

 

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.