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Yukon Girls
July 29, 1994 [John Butler writes] As most of us who spent significant early years in Newport, New Hampshire, know, the farther north you grow up, the more rugged and self- reliant you become. (Of course there may be exceptions.) Our final day in the Yukon last July, my wife and I stopped one night to eat at a small, rustic restaurant and gas station combination that had a little lobby for the cashier's desk, then a narrow hallway, then the dining room. After ordering dinner, I wanted to walk around and stretch, so I headed for the outdoors, but in the cashier's lobby I found a little girl, who I later learned was a five-year-old identical twin, lying on the floor, face down, whimpering. As a father, uncle, and grandparent, my impulse to help a troubled child when I come across one goes back many years. I squatted down and asked "What happened?" The answer, delivered in the tone of voice of a child who feels the world has betrayed and injured her, was "I fell off the chair." There was a straight-backed chair in front of the cash register. I could tell the girl was perfectly all right. I said, "Do you want me to help you up?" She paused in her light whimpering, and in a rather pathetic, weak voice said "No." For me, the situation had just turned somewhat comic, but of course I didn't indicate that. I wanted to help. I put my hand on the back of her neck and started to rub while saying, "Do you want me to rub the back of your neck?" After a pause, she said, in a pathetic, weak voice, as if the injury were far too serious for such a simple-minded solution, "No." As I stood up, a woman I correctly guessed was her grandmother appeared and picked her up, still whimpering, with a tear on each cheek. The girl was being held so that she faced me. To her grandmother, she said "I fell off the chair." While the grandmother kissed her and repeated "Poor baby" (or some such phrase), I pulled out a quarter and made it disappear into the top of my head, then reappear from my stomach, which stopped the whimpering but did not create much interest. I wiped away a tear from her left cheek with my thumb, and did the trick again, this time making the quarter disappear into my right ear, which I had turned up toward the ceiling, and reappear from my left ear, which was turned down toward the floor, the illusion being that the coin had passed right through my head from one ear to the other. It's a startling effect. That trick created great interest, so I wiped away the tear from her right cheek with my thumb and repeated the trick, this time rubbing the quarter into the top of her head, and pulling it out of her stomach, which produced a look of amazement and a very big smile. I handed her the quarter, which she took, smiling. The grandmother said, "What do you say?" I had started walking away, while looking back. The little girl brightly said "Goodbye!" with a terrific smile. Returning a couple of steps, I said, "No, your grandmother means what do you say to someone who gives you a quarter?" "Thank you!" she said, beaming, and off I went as we each said "Goodbye." My new little friend was blond, blue -eyed, and very pretty, as well as being a naturally friendly person. When we finished eating, I went to the cashier's desk to tell the grandmother I wanted to fill our mini- van's tank with gas, and put that on the same bill as the dinner. In the lobby I found my new friend standing on the chair by the register, with her grandmother and her twin sister. "It's the magic man!" my new friend called out excitedly, "Show my sister your magic tricks!" I showed her the tricks, to great applause, then went out to fill the gas tank. After driving the van to the gas pumps, I got out and found that the twin sister had opened the tank cover and was unscrewing the cap. I walked over and said, "Can I help? Very pleasantly she said "No." After unscrewing the cap, she released the gas hose and turned on the pump. When she had some difficulty getting the nozzle into the tank, I said, "Can I help?" "No," she said, and completed the job. As I watched in amusement, she filled the tank. When the flow of gas clicked off, I bent over and said, "Here, I can finish filling it." On our trip (destination: Alaska)< I'd been letting two or three or even four more gallons dribble into the tank by using a feathery touch on the trigger, and pressing the trigger again and again after it clicked off. That's why I volunteered to finish the chore. "No," said the little girl as she turned her head and put her ear closer to the nozzle. Then, using the same feathery touch I had been using for two weeks, she dribbled more gas into the tank till the hose clicked off, put the light pressure back on and dribbled more gas into the tank, and repeated those steps till she'd added four more gallons. I stood there, full of admiration. Just as I was about to say "OK, I think you can stop now," she stopped. When she seemed to be having trouble getting the nozzle back in place at the pump, I unthinkingly said, "Do you want me to help?" as I took a couple of steps toward the pump. "No," she said, and put the nozzle in place. (It might be worth mentioning that two of the three things her sister had said to me before the grandmother arrived were "No" and "No.") When she started to screw the cap back onto the gas tank, I said "Here, I can do that if you want," assuming automatically that I should relieve her of that boring chore. "No," she said, and finished the job. "Nice going!" I said, and applauded with my hands. "You did the whole job! Thank you!" "You're welcome," she said. Back inside, I found the grandmother standing by the desk and the first twin standing on the chair in front of the register. After the grandmother made out the bill, including a candy bar and something else, the grandmother started calling out the prices of the four items, and the girl punched them into the register, then punched the TOTAL key, and handed me my check. She then took my money and gave me my change. So after stopping for dinner and gas, my wife and I had had our van serviced by one five year old girl, and then been checked out at the cashier's by another! After I paid the bill, the girl said "Thanks for showing me your magic tricks, and thanks for showing my sister," and thrust out her right hand toward my left hand, with her palm up and her fingers curled up. As I curled my fingers around hers, she affectionately squeezed my hand, and with a big smile, sweetly said "Goodbye." Outside I walked up to her sister, who was busy at a pump, and said "Goodbye, and thanks again." She reached out with her right hand toward my left hand, fingers curled up, squeezed my hand affectionately, and with a beautiful smile said "Goodbye, Mr. Magic Man!"
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