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The Spellcaster

Edward N. McConnell

    Against medical advice, I decided to take a walk, alone.
    Trying to regain strength after my most recent heart attack was difficult. Walking was about the only thing I could do without serious risk of injury or triggering another episode. Even so, walking was laborious, as was everything. Being a “chronic” made me angry.
    Once outside, though, I felt a little better. I was on my favorite route, the path by the elementary school. After going some distance and needing a breather, I reached a welcome stopping point, the park bench. Rarely is anyone sitting there; I must be its most reliable customer. My intent was to sit for a minute or two and then head back home. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a figure approaching. I paid little attention when he sat down on the other end of the bench.
    After a few moments, I felt like I was being watched. Looking up, I saw a middle aged man, unkempt, with long scraggly hair and a pork pie hat staring at me. His eyes were dark, expression, quizzical. He spoke.
    “I am Emperor Constantine. I have magical powers.”
    In no mood to talk, I said, “What a coincidence. I’m Mick Jagger, I know honky tonk women.”
    Annoyed, the Emperor said, “Do you doubt me? I will summon the Spellcaster?”
    I returned fire. “Go ahead. Will he fit on the bench with us or be standing the whole time? I’m not giving up this seat.”
    “He has magic too.” Then, the Emperor’s demeanor seemed to change. Maybe he sensed my distress. With a sympathetic glance, he said, “Stranger, your time is short. The Spellcaster can help.”
    I thought, “How do these kooks always find me?” Then, to my right another person approached.
    “Behold, the Spellcaster arrives.” Emperor Constantine said.
    I looked down the path. I wasn’t sure what was developing, other than my possible mugging. A waif was skipping in our direction waiving his hand in the air. He was holding nothing but moved his hand like he had a wand.
    Soon, this person was standing in front of me.
    “Damn, I’m blocked in. I should have gotten up,” I thought. I always walk with my grandfather’s black thorn cane in the event of situations like this. I’m not that much of a fighter anymore but I figured I could get one of them. I readied myself to swing the cane but it turned out there was no need.
    Looking at me, the Spellcaster asked, “Brother, do you have weed?”
    “No. Sorry, fresh out. No money either, just some M&Ms.” I said.
    “In exchange for that tribute, Emperor Constantine will allow me to cure you.”
    “You want the M&Ms?” I said. He nodded. I saw an opening, a chance to get away from these nuts.
    “Sounds fair to me.” Reaching into my pocket, I handed the M&Ms to the Spellcaster. In turn, he air tapped me with his invisible wand.
    “Blessings be upon you. Go forth, you are cured.”
    Without another thought, I stood up, stepped away from him and tried to run and you know what, I could and did. Taking off like a starter’s pistol had just been fired, I ran at full speed all the way home. I shouldn’t have been able to run three steps but I was sure footed and fast, just like when I was young.
    When I got to the house, I ran in the door shouting, “I’m cured. I’m cured. The Spellcaster cured me!” Then I felt a hand shaking my shoulder.
    “Hey, wake up, you’re dreaming again. It’s time for our walk.” The voice was that of my wife. “Get your cane. I was thinking, today, we’d go on the school path as far as the park bench.”
    “The school path, really? Lately, the people down there have been sketchy. Maybe we could just walk around the block instead.” I said.

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