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THE GREAT WIZARD
For the great majority of people, childhood is the most beautiful
part of life. And, as years go by and their time passes to be lost
forever,
several insignificant events--pale and disfigured by the tooth of
time--become more and more important.
I am not one of those who are able to speak about their childhood for
hours and hours. I've never spoken stories about juicy peaches stolen
from
neighbors' gardens, about skillfully altered marks in school files, or
about
poor little lizard that I hid in the sugar box and about Mom's face when
she
tried to make a coffee. Since ever, I've preferred to look in front
of me
instead of behind me. Maybe I am too young for such stories--I am
only
twenty-nine--or maybe it's just the fact that I don't have such memories
of
my childhood.
I was always quiet and somehow reserved child. I lived with my
mother in a small apartment that was located in a quiet quart of the
northern part of the town. My mind never passed an idea to steal
neighbors' unripe, desperately stony and sour peaches because I never
liked to eat even the ripe ones. I had no need to alter my marks
either--I'd
always been the best student. Finally--thinking about lizards--my
mother
was a zoologist and our apartment was full of rare species all the time.
There were Algol bats, single eyed martens from Beta Lyre, infra-green
parrots from Vega and who would have remembered what else! And then,
how could I ever have my mind crossed by an idea like that--to bring home
a plane lizard and to put it into the sugar box! By the way, my mother
wouldn't be frightened by the lizard at all: She would simply throw
it out
of the apartment as a completely uninteresting sample.
So, if I would take a glance at these years of my life, with an
exemption that I grew up without father, my childhood was very common
and ordinary. I wouldn't say boring or lonely because it really wasn't.
I
liked to read, I liked my piano lessons--probably owing to the beautiful
young lady that taught me--and I liked my chemistry lab where I used to
make some incredible things. Things that would envy me on even those
who used to steal peaches; if they would have only tried to join me.
* * *
Though, there is something that happened to me in my early childhood,
something that I have never ever talked about. At this time, the
word
'secret' still had it's sense and I was silent. Only much, much later,
I
realized that that event changed and guided my entire life.
I was almost six at the time. I was taller than many other kids of
my
age, I was thin, and my first milk teeth had just started falling out.
I
remember, for that reason I was a little bit ashamed, and I was silent
most
of the time because I didn't want to see other kids laughing at me.
It was a hot summer afternoon when I was playing in the park near our
building. Actually, there was a small play yard in the park that
was every
single day full of kids--from early morning till dusk--but I preferred
to play
away from the play yard. I preferred to play alone. And so
it was that
day. I was squatting in the grass and intently watching an ant family.
Suddenly, I realized I was not alone any more. I reflexively raised
my
head and espied an incredible creature! There was a tall, dark haired
man
in front of me dressed in black and covered with a cloak made of small,
multicolored squares of fabric. His cloak reminded me of the ones
that
were worn by wizards in my favorite fairy tales.
"Are you Latto III," he asked me. "I'm looking for you."
I wasn't frightened. The man seemed somehow familiar to me and I
felt as if there finally arrived somebody whom I had been waiting for a
very long time. I just nodded and stood up. At the same time,
with a few
pretty clumsy attempts, I tried to remove dust from my knees.
"Can you keep a secret?"
I remember that we sat on a bench. And I remember how unreal his
cloak looked, lightened by flashes of the sinking Sun. And I remember
how
proud I was when he told me that I was the only kid who was able see him.
Later, when Annie from the second floor asked me who was that clown
with me, I pronounced her a liar because she could not see him.
The man was speaking to me. About a small yellow house in a suburb
that was guarded by two fragrant lilacs... About a boy whose name
was
Latto, the same as mine, and who lived in that house... About boy's
mother
who wanted her son to become a doctor like she was... About the Great
Wizard who was the only one who could tell a kid what it would become
when grown up. And that he was coming only to selected kids, not
to
everyone... And that boy whose name was Latto, he had been selected;
selected to become the captain of a great researching spaceship that would
sail for centuries and centuries looking for unknown... And the Great
Wizard visited him...
"Has that boy become the captain," I asked him. "Are you the Great
Wizard? Is that the reason you have a mottled cloak? Am I selected,
too?"
The man nodded after every question. Then he told me something that
I couldn't understand and so I couldn't remember either, but I remember
clearly that he told me:
"You like to examine and explore; you like everything that is new and
unknown. For that reason, your place is among stars, too. And
that boy
from my story, he is impatiently waiting for you. One day, you will
sail
together..."
He fondled my hair, and--I think before the next very moment--he
wasn't there any more. I was left alone only now I was richer for
one
secret...
* * *
I have never told anybody about that event. I've taken care about
the
secret, I've lived and grown with it; but, maybe unconsciously, the secret
has been somewhere deep inside me all the time. And it has been deciding
my future. Otherwise, how could I explain the fact that--in spite
all my
love for chemistry and music--I chose to study the psychology of inhuman
intelligent beings. I think that even kids know that the subjects
of my
examination live everywhere around except on the Earth. Destiny?
Until the previous year, I worked at the "Earth Research Center of
Intelligent Species of the Universe." I was one of leading designers.
The
job was interesting, the earning was above expectations and all my friends
envied me. Then I met Sellena, got married and bought a small but
comfortable house. Shortly after that, I proudly looked at the newborn
Latto
IV, wriggling in a cradle. I was sure everybody who knew me would
say
that I got everything one could possibly wish for. And they would
probably
be right. Only, I’d been looking for something new all my life and
I just
couldn't draw a line and say: "I've got everything I've wanted--I am
satisfied." Not me. I'd been always looking for something more.
No
matter what I'd succeeded, I wasn't satisfied. And when I suddenly
got a
call from the "Aldebaran & Algol Scientist Association," I accepted
it
immediately and delightfully. All that I knew about them was that
they had
a ship of enormous capabilities; but the details were not important to
me
anyway. Finally, there was something new...
The first trip should have lasted seven Earth years. As far as I
as a
traveler was concerned, it would have lasted no more than one year.
I
remember that Sellena cried when I told her the news. She told me
she
would be old and ugly when I came back. She was sure that was our
separation. (Why are women always so pathetic? One day I will
carefully
explore that subject.)
"Does your son have to grow without father, too," she asked.
I didn't see anything wrong about that. I had never missed my Father.
How could I ever miss a person I never knew?
And so I left.
* * *
Now, I'm on the Earth again. I spent a whole year on the ship.
A lot
of work, many unslept nights, but also a lot of pleasure. Yet, the
time spent
on a ship runs much more slowly than the time spent on the Earth.
Some
strange longing gets upon you and you start liking all the things that
have
always annoyed you. Is it then strange that I spent hours and hours
thinking
about my son and about Sellena...
I lost Sellena. I knew that since the moment I left her. Seven
years is
a whole little life for a woman of twenty two. Besides that, I'm
going to
Orion very soon. After Orion I am going to Vega, then to Betelgeuse,
then
who knows where... When I finally come home she will not be alive
any
more! Maybe it is the best solution not to visit her while I am here.
Anyway, it will certainly be the best for her.
And what about my son? Have I lost him, too? He is seven now.
Does he look like me? Does he prefer to play alone, too? Does
he miss
me? But, how can he miss me, he doesn't even know me! And yet,
he is my
son. I must not lose him!
And I knew pretty well how I could keep him...
I ran like mad from store to store looking for a multicolored cloak that
could cover my black uniform. All the time, there was a picture of
the
Great Wizard in front of my eyes. The picture of my father!
Did I really
need so much time to comprehend?
* * *
He was sitting on the bench and reading a book when I found him.
"Are you Latto IV," I asked him. "I am looking for you."
The small shaggy head rose and deep inside his clear, black eyes I
found a flash of incomprehensible identifying. At that very moment,
I
became sure that one day my son would also start sailing through the
unknown paths of the Universe, and that I would, too--like my father and
my
grandfather before him--have enough time to search for him and to find
him
somewhere among the stars...
Dragana Konstantinovic
Translated by the author
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