I stand in the middle of a six acre wheat field. The golden wheat sways with the wind. The shafts tickle my nose, make me sneeze. Aqua blue sky is dotted with puffs of white clouds or perhaps gray smoke from the chimney of Radex Tire Co. A whiff of rubber floats past me, disrupts my concentration. You will surely believe I am a nut, a flake, a mental case if I tell you why I am out here in this field. So I won’t. But you will see for yourself that I am blessed with power... and I’ve got it.
In the little black bag semi strapped on my companion’s back is a collapsible silver rod. ‘Sorry, I didn’t tell you about him. He’s a two year old black, extremely curly haired, French poodle. His ancestry goes back to Sammy, Harry Houdini’s pet. Sammy died unexpectedly the day after Houdini was hit too hard in his abdomen and wasn’t prepared for the onslaught. I’ve located many of Sammy’s family using new DNA methods and know I have the real McCoy right at my feet. He’s going to unlock the key to help me attain what I want more than anything in the world.
Watch this. ‘Sammy, where is Merlin?’ Sammy looks East, then to the sky and barks three times. ‘Call him, I need his help.’ ‘Are you still paying attention, Sir? If not, go away. You bother me. Close your mouth. I can smell it over here.’ The dog rolls over, manages to open the black bag, gets a tight grip on the silver rod and lays it at my feet. I give it a wham of a slam and it grows long, straight and strong. It stands erect in my hand, its handle pointing toward the sun. There is no lightning but thunder rolls and roars. I raise my hands and lightning flashes everywhere. ‘Listen, Mister.’ My voice grows loud. ‘Merlin, merlin, the Greatest of all Magicians. I drop to my knees for you. Please help me. If you can’t, nobody can and I will shrivel up and die, even faster than Harry did. Thunder rolls again. ‘I see you, Merlin. I see you! A great hush comes over the field. It feels like the earth is standing still. ‘Your silence is understood, Oh. Merlin. This means you are listening. I am old now, Merlin. My children are grown and have given me great grandchildren. Since losing my wife many years ago, I have been flying to Portland twice a year but I can’t do it any more. The plane seats are too hard, my back aches, my feet swell. I have to change planes three times. Last trip I couldn’t reach my transfer point and the plane went without me. My family can’t come here. They work, can’t spare the thousands of dollars the airlines charge now.’ I pause as my throat dries and my heart shivers. ‘You are my only hope to reunite with the family I adore. I feel my time coming soon, soon, very soon.’
Thunder starts again.. This time there is lightning from all directions. My position makes me extra vulnerable for Merlin to send a bolt right thru my body and that will be the end. It stops as quickly as it starts. There is silence. ‘Say, Mister. I didn’t realize you were still here. Will you help me walk out of the field and a short distance to my small home?’
There is no answer so I walk by myself and wonder who I was talking to. On my doorstep is a package. It is dry so there must not have been rain here either. I take it to the kitchen table, undo the string and brown paper and there is a paid for bus ticket to Oregon for next week, a travel magazine and six sleeping bills.
I jump for joy, get on my knees, and bow a few times. ‘’Thank you, thank you, Merlin.’ I won’t bother you again.’
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