The Loblolly Boy and the Sorcerer Read Online Free Page B

that makes me Ben again.’
    The Captain sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right. I’d probably feel the same if I were in your wings.’
    The loblolly boy looked up. This sounded a little more promising. ‘Then you’ll help me?’ he asked hopefully.
    The Captain shrugged. ‘How can I help you? I’m just an old man who lives in a cabin by the sea.’
    Liar, thought the loblolly boy. He knew the Captain was no mere old man. Mere old men couldn’t even see him for a start, nor know anything about the world of loblolly boys and goodness knows what other worlds. Mere old men did not have mysterious telescopes that could see your destiny. The Captain was not merely old either. He was positively ancient.
    â€˜I don’t think so,’ said the loblolly boy. ‘And I reckon you could help me.’
    However, the Captain only grunted, then stood up and moved over to inspect the crabs in the pot.
    â€˜Looking good,’ he said. ‘Looking pink.’
    The loblolly boy wondered whether that was what being in the pink meant. He didn’t think so. ‘What about that song then?’ he asked. ‘You said that would help me.’
    â€˜Did I?’ the Captain said.
    The loblolly boy thought about that. Probably the Captain hadn’t said the song would help him, not in so many words, but he figured that was what he meant. Why sing the awful thing otherwise?
    â€˜Could it help me?’
    â€˜That’s up to you,’ the Captain said.
    â€˜What does that mean?’
    â€˜Whether you’ll allow yourself to be helped.’
    The loblolly boy shrugged. This was all too pointless and was leading nowhere.
    â€˜I still have no idea what the song was about.’
    â€˜Think about it.’
    â€˜I am. I’m thinking about it.’
    â€˜What do you remember?’
    The loblolly boy shrugged again. ‘I remember the bit about the frying pan and the fire and stuff about Jugglers and a Gadget Man.’
    â€˜What about the Jugglers and the Gadget Man?’
    The loblolly boy thought, screwing up his nose with the effort. ‘I have to seek them …’
    â€˜What else?’
    Again he tried to remember. He visualised the Captain sweeping furiously at the banjo and braying out the words.
    â€˜Would you sing it again?’
    The Captain shook his head. ‘No. In the interests of music, I will not sing it again.’
    â€˜Hmmm. I remember fear and beware … That’s right … Trust?’
    â€˜That’s right,’ said the Captain. ‘They’re fickle.’
    â€˜What does that mean?’
    â€˜It means they’re unpredictable. They might help you; they might not. You might think they’re helping you but they’re tricking; or you might think they’re tricking butthey’re really helping you.’
    â€˜They don’t sound much use, then,’ said the loblolly boy, disappointed.
    â€˜Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,’ said the Captain. ‘Look at it this way, you’re going to need all the help you can get.’
    â€˜Even if I can’t trust it?’
    â€˜Even so,’ said the Captain. His tone was serious and the loblolly boy realised he meant it. ‘But just be careful,’ he added. ‘They’re like a two-edged sword.’
    â€˜A two-edged sword?’
    â€˜It can cut both ways.’
    â€˜But it can still cut,’ grinned the loblolly boy a little ruefully.
    â€˜Precisely,’ said the Captain.
    At that point he drove his knife into the pot and then pulled it out and held it up with a crimson crab pinioned on the end. The crab’s legs were no longer gesticulating. The eyes on their little stalks were brown and sightless.
    â€˜Lovely!’ exclaimed the Captain. ‘Pity you can’t try one of these.’ He broke off a leg, and then pushed the crab off the knife and onto a platter. Then he snapped the leg in two and sucked at it.