The Magician #2
We hid under the apple tree in the corner of the yard and laughed, waiting for the Pigeon-man to calm down. When it seemed that he had retreated back to his den, Magi said, "What can we do now?"
Obviously, in this short time, a moderate closeness had been developed among us, and its fragility had to be constantly nourished.
Since none of us had a suggestion for continuing the game, Magi turned around, looking for something that would give him an idea.
He grabbed an apple branch and, with its help, climbed onto the fence post. He spread his arms, started the stopwatch, and successfully balancing himself, despite his weight, walked over the beam to the next post. He went on, until he reached the corner.
Then he jumped to the ground, pressing the button on the stopwatch at the same time.
"Ten seconds," he said, smiling. "Let me see you do that."
"Oh, come on, who knows how long you have been practicing that," we said.
We doubted that we could master this circus attraction without falling, let alone to achieve an impressive time.
Still, we tried. We only managed to get to the first post without losing balance, or maybe to the second one.
We didn't get any further than that. When we realized that this was going nowhere and decided to give up, we heard Trifke behind us and almost shuddered.
"Time me," he said, quickly climbing onto the post. He started much faster than Magi, and we thought he would set a new record. Then he wobbled and almost fell to the ground. He maintained his balance and still made it to the finish line.
The stopwatch showed ten seconds.
"Now there has to be a rematch," Trifke said to Magi. "You go from one side, I'll go from the other, and whoever reaches the middle first is the winner."
"Okay," Magi said barely audibly.
They went to opposite ends of the yard, and we reset the stopwatch.
"This isn't going to end well," we said to ourselves. "Trifke will surely push him when they meet."
We gave the signal and they started moving towards each other, causing us to tremble with increasing anxiety as they were approaching the center.
Judging by Magi's confident gait, there was a possibility that he would reach the center well before Trifke and be able to descend before the latter had a chance to knock him down.
However, Magi's self-assured walk suddenly choked, he stumbled, and before we could even discern what was happening, he jumped to the ground.
He stood up and said to Trifke, "You won."
It was only then that we suspected he had deliberately sabotaged his walk along the beams in order to hastily end the game and avoid the confrontation.
Trifke jumped off the post and pierced Magi with his gaze.
We were already between them to prevent a fight when Magi's mother appeared around the corner of the house and shouted, "The roast is ready! "
We ran to the street where the Skoda 120 L was parked on the gravel.
We helped Magi's father take out the pig on a stake, wrapped in greasy brown paper, from the trunk.
We carried the roast to the garage, where Magi's father started butchering it, surrounded by drills, screwdrivers, and a calendar featuring Vlade Divac.
Magi took us to the living room where a long table was set up for the occasion.
Instead of chairs, two wooden benches were placed along the length of the table.
Only the birthday boy was seated at the head of the table.
Except for the table, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a massive shelf decorated with wooden elephants and frogs that bring good luck.
We helped ourselves to Russian salad. Soon the roast was served, warm and more torn than cut.
We were so hungry that we rushed to fill our plates and then our stomachs as quickly as possible.
Magi stood up to pour us some juice. We all eyed Trifke suspiciously, wondering if he had really left after tearing the article, or if he had been hiding somewhere the whole time, plotting his next malicious act.
In any case, we wanted him to stop spoiling the fun.
He, of course, had no intention of doing so.
When the glasses were filled with the yellow and black juice, Magi returned to his seat, and Trifke stuck his finger in his nose and dug around for a while. Then he pointed at each of us, counting, "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..."
We didn't know what the point of this bizarre behavior was, but it soon became clear.
His twitching index finger, of course, stopped at Magi.
Trifke began approaching his victim, grinning and waving his threatening finger.
We sat up on the bench in horror, wondering how to prevent this wrongdoing, whatever its outcome might be.
However, Trifke's empty eyes pinned us to the bench so we didn't move.
He was now only half a meter away from Magi and suddenly lunged his finger towards his glass.
At the last moment, he made a looping motion with his finger and landed it on the napkin.
He wiped it off and, swaying his hips, returned to his chair.
"Just joking!" he said. "Don't you know a joke when you see one?"
"Hahaha!" we laughed. "Very funny."
We continued to eat, even though our appetite had been ruined.
We no longer drank juice. It was as if Trifke's idea had contaminated all the glasses.
Magi's mother soon brought the cake, a two-layered treat, surrounded with upright biscuits like a fortress.
She returned with a knife and birthday caps - no one even thought of putting them on their heads - and devoted herself to the challenge of cutting the sugar monster.
She served each of us a generous slice and left us alone.
Such pieces could easily replace an entire meal.
Magi, however, having eaten his slice considerably before us, lifted himself up to add another to his plate.
Trifke noticed this. The way he twisted his mouth indicated that something was coming.
We expected a verbal scolding, but something much worse happened.
Magi sat down on his chair at the exact moment when Trifke put his plate with some remains of the cake, under Magi's rear.
Even we couldn't help but laugh, but we quickly quieted down.
Trifke, on the other hand, laughed out loud, applauding himself.
This lasted until Magi stood up. Assuming that Magi would at least try to attack him, maybe scratch him or do whatever he could in a fit of anger, Trifke casually backed up to the door, opened it and said, "Magi needs help. "
Magi ran past Trifke and headed to his room. On the way, he yelled at the bully, "You'll pay for this!"
"You're really a jerk," we told Trifke. "You deserved to be beaten up."
"Is that so? And who's going to do that?"
We didn't have an answer to this question, so we fell silent and went to find Magi. On the way, we met his mother who asked us, "Is everything okay? I thought someone called me."
"You can take the cake away, so it doesn't melt. We won’t eat any more."
"Let me ask you something else... The Pigeon-man has been making a fuss. He's mentioning pigeons and cursing at us. Did you mess with him?"
"We were just playing by the fence," we said. "We don't know anything about it."
"Don't mess with him. Something's not quite right with him."
"We won't, of course."
We found Magi, dressed differently, curled up on his bed.
His face was like a roll of toilet paper that had fallen into the water and was left to dry.
When we entered, he turned to the wall. This was not a situation for which we had enough skill or prior experience.
Nevertheless, we sat timidly next to him.
We couldn't hug him or even put our hands on his shoulder.
We tried with words. "Magi, don't let him ruin everything... You know him. Why don't you tell him to leave so we can continue playing?"
"It’s not as if he would listen to me anyway" he said, lifting his head slightly from the pillow.
"Then... then tell your dad to make him go away."
"Yes, and then he'll tell everyone I'm mama’s and papa's boy."
We lowered our heads, left without any ideas. Everything Magi said was perfectly true. Time passed, and we slowly accepted that the situation was almost hopeless. We were already thinking of leaving without being noticed or hurt.
We had already started getting up when Magi turned around and propped himself up on his elbow. "Something just occurred to me..."
"What?"
"Call him and you'll see."
"Are you sure this is a smart idea?"
"Just tell him I have something to show you on the top floor."
Although we still didn't think this was a good idea, we complied with Magi's wish.
When we told Trifke that Magi wanted to show us something, he didn't hesitate to join us, not even for a moment.
Magi was too insignificant for Trifke to be wary of him in any way.
He neither feared retaliation nor felt a shred of shame or regret for what he had done so far.
On the contrary, he simply said, "What, the fat idiot wants to mess with me again? Is he going to show me a picture with Santa Claus?"
We didn't have the courage to ask him if he had a picture with Santa Claus and Snowy Snow-White.
We went up the stairs, where Magi was waiting for us.
He avoided Trifke's gaze and opened the door to a spacious room, which was plastered but not painted.
Except for the ancient walnut chiffonier in the middle, it was completely empty.
Magi spread his arms, smiling broadly. "I told you that after Grandpa's death, we had to return his things to the Magicians' Association. That's how they protect the secrets of the craft. But we 'forgot' something. And that's the most important thing."
"What are you talking about?" Trifke asked, leaning on the chiffonier.