David! David! . . . . Where
is that stupid boy?”
If you’ve ever been invisible
you’ll know that it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be. In fact it
becomes really irritating after a while. And it causes no end of trouble.
“He was here a minute ago. I
expect he’s gone up to his room.”
The
thing is it’s only after you actually become invisible that you discover
all the problems it brings. Sure it’s fun at first and I’ll tell you all
about that but it’s only fair that I warn you about the dangers as well.
“He spends all his time in
that bedroom – on the few occasions he’s actually at home.”
It all
started about four weeks ago. Well it actually started a long time before
that for I’ve always been interested in magic but it was four weeks ago
that it changed my life. I had gone into town, especially to buy some
tricks at the new magic shop. The assistant wasn’t at all polite.
Reluctantly he showed me some really dumb card trick. “Show me proper
magic like they do on TV,” I demanded. “Show me how to make things vanish
or how to become invisible.”
“Invisible!” he said. A smile
spread across his face. Not a cheery, kindly smile. More the kind of evil
grin the dentist makes when he tells you that it won’t hurt a bit.
“Invisible! So you want to become invisible!”
“Of course,” I snapped, as he
dragged me by the collar into a dingy little back room.
He took a dusty old book from
a shelf and wiping away the cobwebs opened it up at a spell entitled, “Ye
art and majic ove becoming unseen.”
“Read it and your wish will
be granted,” he promised in a somewhat menacing tone.
Xonox Axexa.
I pledge. I swear.
My body. My soul.
To the league of the unseen.
Let me walk without shadow.
Let my essence wane.
Now and always.
Axexa Xonox.
As I finished reading the
spell he printed a copy from his computer and thrust it into my hands.
This should have raised my suspicion. I should have realised I was being
tricked. But it was too late by then. Although I didn’t know it, I was
already ensnared in the magic circle.
“This is stupid nonsense,” I
declared. “This isn’t real magic.”
“Do not mock the power of
sorcery,” he scoffed as he pushed me out of the shop and locked the door.
“When you return you will be singing a different tune.”
“Twaddle,” I though. “I’ll never go back to that useless shop.”
“He’s not himself these days.
He’s acting very strangely.”
On the
bus, going home, most of the passengers were reading newspapers. This got
me thinking. Could a spell really make you invisible just by reading it?
If only that was possible! That would be so brilliant! I took the printout
from my pocket. I read the spell again.
Moments later the strangest thing happened. A great big fat woman got on,
shuffled up the aisle, and sat on my knees. I shoved her, of course, and
shouted “gerroff!” That’s when she started screeching like a mad bat. Then
she fainted. As the other passengers gawked helplessly a man rushed up
claiming to be a doctor. He demanded to know what had happened. When I
told him he yelled, “Help! It’s a ghost! The bus is haunted!” He ran back
up the aisle and jumped off. It would probably have been safer if he’d
waited till the bus had stopped but he was obviously in a hurry. You’d
think a doctor would have more sense.
It was
then that it struck me. The spell had worked. I was invisible!
“And where does he go to? We
seldom see him anymore.”
For those of you who have
never been invisible before, I guess I should explain what it’s like.
Well, to be perfectly honest, it’s no different from being visible. Try
this for yourself. Look at your hands. Look at your feet. That’s exactly
how they look when you’re invisible. Even if you look into a mirror, stick
out your tongue and make a really disgusting face you’ll still see it.
It’s very disappointing. But other people – they can’t see you or the
clothes you’re wearing. And that’s cool – at first.
“Even at meal times he rarely
shows up.”
The spell wore off
after about ten minutes just as I was getting off the bus. This came as a
dreadful shock to the two old ladies who were struggling to get on. From
the fuss they made you’d have thought they were being abducted by aliens.
I wanted to try out the spell again so I headed for my best friend
Gordon’s house. It’s funny how you can know someone for ages and yet not
really know them at all. When you’re invisible you find out what people
are really like. As I approached his house I read the spell so that I
could surprise him. He was standing at his gate talking to Susan. Susan is
the prettiest girl in our class and Gordon had promised to ask her to go
out with me. I crept up expecting to hear him telling her how cool I am.
But instead he was slagging me off and chatting her up.
I was furious and pushed him
so hard he fell on his bum. He had no idea what hit him and he got an
awful fright. He jumped to his feet and tried to act as if nothing had
happened. I knocked him down again and again and again. That was great
fun! That would teach him not to steal my girlfriend. Susan obviously
thought he’d gone crazy for she hurried away with a look that said, “wait
till I tell the whole class what a complete moron you are.”
“Don’t go,” begged Gordon,
struggling to his feet for the fourth time. That’s when I punched him and
gave him a bloody nose. I guess that made me feel guilty for, when I
became visible, I went back and helped him stop the bleeding. But after
all that’s what friends are for. Of course now I couldn’t tell him about
the spell for then he’d know that it was me who’d hit him.
“He can’t be eating properly.
He’s fading away to nothing.”
That night I was so excited I
could hardly sleep. I had memorized the spell and repeated it over and
over in my head. But was I invisible? In an effort to find out I held a
hand close to my face and examined it carefully - it seemed solid. I
squeezed my ear to see if I could still feel pain. I wished I hadn’t done
it with such enthusiasm for I most definitely could.
“He’s become ghostly pale.”
At
last morning arrived. Monday! I hate Mondays! I have a double period of
computing on Mondays. Horrors! Our computing teacher, we call him
Windows-28 because he’s so ancient, is always picking on me. He’s forever
giving me punnies for little things like talking or chewing or throwing
CDs at him while he’s writing on the board.
As I
walked to school I hatched a plan. I would get revenge.
Computing was the second
period of the day, after history. I hurried to be first into the classroom
and recited the spell. A few moments later the room was full and
Windows-28 stormed in. He scrutinized the class like a high-speed
laser-scanner.
“Where’s Smellie-Bottomley?”
he bellowed.
That’s my name by the way.
David Smellie-Bottomley. When my parents got married they were stupid
enough to combine their surnames. “It’s romantic,” they insist. Thank
goodness they didn’t call me Ivan!
“He was in history,” offered
Gordon. “He must have disappeared on the way here.”
I nearly wet myself trying
not to laugh. If only I could tell him how right he was.
Windows-28 sat at his desk in front of the computer he uses for his boring
lessons. I took the mouse and, making squeaking noises, slowly moved it
across the desk. The class watched in amazement. Windows-28 looked
stunned. He grabbed the mouse and put it back beside the keyboard. In a
nervous high-pitched voice he continued the lesson. I waited a little then
pushed the computer a few inches. The room fell silent. Everyone stared in
disbelief. I pushed it a little further. Windows-28 jumped to his feet. I
pushed again. Now, I wasn’t to know that the desk was unstable. I wasn’t
to know that it would collapse if the computer got too near the edge. But
it did. The computer, monitor and keyboard suddenly flipped over and
crashed to the floor. Meanwhile the table flew through the air and smashed
several windows. Glass showered to the ground covering the headmaster, who
was standing below. I hurried to the toilets and hid. I would be in
serious bother if anyone discovered what I’d done. Now I couldn’t tell
anyone my secret.
“And his friends say they’ve seen little of him
lately.”
I kept
out of trouble for the next few days but then trouble found me. I was
heading home from school when I heard, “Smelly-Bum! Smelly-Bum!” It was
Tom Gibson and his gang. I quickened my pace. They followed. The Giboons,
as they call themselves, love beating people up. I ran. It’s not that I’m
a coward but I do have a great dislike of pain. The Giboons ran too. I
didn’t want to disappear in front of them so I headed towards the building
site at the end of the road. Fortunately the door of a new house was lying
open. As I reached it I heard Tom’s voice, “Where’s Smelly-Bum gone?”
Strange - I was invisible yet I hadn’t used the spell. I hurried inside.
The gang guessed where I’d gone and rushed in too. “We’ve got him
trapped,” laughed Tom, locking the door. “No, I’ve got you trapped,” I
thought. I grabbed the key from his hand. They gasped as it floated
through the air. I spotted some paint and tools that the workmen had left
behind. For my next trick I took a tin of paint and swung it round and
round. The gang were rooted to the spot with fear. The lid flew off and
paint splattered everywhere. “Let’s get out of here,” shrieked Tom,
dripping with bright red super-gloss. But I hadn’t finished. I found a box
of nails and taking careful aim threw them one by one at the cowards who
were quaking in there shoes. At last I unlocked the door and in my
ghostliest voice, moaned, “Bully one more person and I’ll haunt you
forever.” The gang scattered like mice being hunted by a hungry cat.
“Where can he be disappearing
to? Maybe he’s doing extra work at school.”
I said earlier that there was
a bad side to all of this. What you’ve heard up to now might sound like
fun – and so it was. But increasingly I became invisible when I didn’t
want to. Soon I couldn’t go to school in case I was spotted disappearing.
At home I stayed in my room. Often I missed dinner and had to pretend I
had eaten at Gordon’s house. I was too frightened to tell anyone what was
happening to me in case they thought I was crazy. I didn’t want to end up
on a funny-farm.
“No, his headmaster called to
complain that he’s been plunking school.”
Then one night, as I lay in
bed, the room around me began to fade. As it disappeared I was drawn into
an eerie netherworld. I found myself in a vast circular corridor filled
with millions upon millions of ghostly figures all screeching and wailing.
I watched as these vile ghouls dashed past me in a tormented frenzy. They
were all rushing around like mad but going nowhere. As they sped past they
called out in echoing voices. Asking me my name. Asking me to join them.
Suddenly two particularly gruesome ghouls grabbed me. “Welcome to the land
of the unseen,” they wheezed in unison. “This will be your home for all
eternity.” I struggled, struggled to get free, struggled to get back home.
I would not join their ghastly world! Gradually I broke away. Slowly my
room took form once more. I was back in bed.
“He must be in trouble and is
too frightened to tell us.”
The following morning I crept
into the kitchen. Mum was there. As she didn’t greet me with her usual
sloppy good-morning hug I knew I was invisible. This was getting worrying.
I was disappearing more and more frequently and for longer and longer
periods. I had to do something and do it fast. I rushed out of the house
and headed for the bus. I would have to go back to the magic shop.
The shop had a “Closed Down”
sign on the window. My heart sank. I thumped desperately on the door.
After what seemed an age it opened.
“I expected you to return,
young magician,” said the man, dragging me inside.
“What’s happening to me?” I
cried.
“You wanted to become
invisible,” he replied, “so I let you join the Magic Circle.”
“What’s the Magic Circle?”
“The Circle was formed
hundred of years ago by a cruel witch,” replied the man. “She was to be
burnt to death for turning people into garden gnomes. To get revenge she
created the spell. Anyone who reads or speaks it will join her in her
ghoulish afterlife.”
“But I read the spell!”
“Yes, and soon you will
become a ghoul and join her. Soon you will no longer exist on Earth.”
“But I don’t want to be a
ghoul,” I pleaded. “Help me. What can I do?”
“The only way to leave the
Circle is to recruit new members,” he confided. “Each time you get someone
to read the spell they become a member. Recruit four-and-twenty and you
shall be free.”
“How can I do that?” I cried.
“I opened up this shop and
tricked people like you,” he replied with a grin. “What you do is up to
you!”
“I’m so worried about him.
Call him down we must talk to him.”
For days I puzzled over what
to do. How could I trick twenty-four people into reading the spell? I
thought and thought and thought. I didn’t want my family or friends to
become ghouls. No, I needed to find a way to get strangers to read it. By
day the problem filled my every thought. Night after night I lay awake
struggling for an answer. Then suddenly it came in a blinding flash. The
perfect solution. It was all so simple. And so the following morning I
locked myself in my bedroom.
I wrote this story.
What you do is up to you!
“David! David! . . . . Where
is that stupid boy?”
