by James Palmer (jrp36@hermes.cam.ac.uk)
"We get a lot of children in here, with and without parents. I think the food is pitched at about the right level for them; kids love simple tastes, and you canıt get much more simple than one of our burgers meat, cheese,ı ketchup. I used to try and move them on if I thought they were skipping school, but the way things are now, Iım beginning to think theyıre probably safer in here than the classroom especially when Iım around. Some of them are probably better off here than at home. Sad, but thatıs life.
I try to keep charges for them, if possible or their mothers. I reckon things come out better that way. When you pass on a charge, though, you normally get some kind of sense of how attunedı the person is whether they know what youıre doing, if theyıre an avatar or an adept or under some bad mojo influence that kind of thing. Doesnıt happen all the time, but mostly I get something.
That reminds me; you ever run across a businessman with one blue eye and one grey, mid-forties, combed black hair, you stay away from him, understand? He bought a coffee in here once, and I was on my Corporate Charityı run at the time, so I gave him a boost with it. And well, he was an adept for sure, a powerful one and when I sent that charge over the counter, he knew what I was doing, and he made the linkage back. He could have hexed me then but good, I tell you. I could have dropped right there, if heıd felt like it. But he didnıt do anything except let me see some of what heıd done in the past. Shivering, am I? Youıd do worse than shiver if you saw what I saw in that that thingıs head. Then I gave him his change and he left. Stay a long distance away from anyone looks like that.
Getting back to the children, though. I reckon maybe one in every hundred, maybe two hundred of them turns out to be an adept, when I sling the charge. Now thatıs a hell of a lot more than the general public, by a few factors of ten. When I say adept, I donıt mean that theyıve learnt the normal rack of procedures, or that they even know what theyıre doing. They work up this stuff all by themselves, and theyıd never call it magick.
You see, kids obsess easily. Dinosaurs, coins, sport, whatever, it matters a hell of a lot more to them than it would to us and itıs that kind of obsession that drives magick, believe me. Kids build up rituals, too, make connections. Step on a crack, break your motherıs back. If I hit all ten of those railings with the ball, Iıll pass the test tomorrow. Iıve got to open the card pack with my eyes closed, or Iıll never get that rare. If I can flip heads eight time in a row, daddyıll come back tomorrow. Rituals. Obsession. Put them together, you get magick.
Let me give you some examples. Lot of kids collect stuff. My nephew, heıs mad on plastic frogs. Donıt ask me why I just buy him some whenever I see them. A lot of them get into it because of the money not that they make any, but they like the idea that these things are worth all these big amounts you know, they always pick the highest value listed in those little collected guides of theirs, sit there thinking "If I could just get that card, itıd be worth $300." Well, I knew this little kid, Matt, a long time ago. Bout eight years old, then, collected coins. He used to come in here lunchtime at the weekends with his dad, and theyıd sit there and go through his dadıs change, see if heıd got anything valuable or foreign, by chance. Now, I started looking at the change I was giving them after a while and I swear to God, it was like a pirateıs treasure trove. Gold, silver, nineteenth century pennies, French coins everything. He sold the collection in the end, used it to put himself through college. I saw him the other day, and he said to me, "Monica, whereıd you get all those coins you used to put into my change, anyway?" Heıd forgotten, but it was all him.
That doesnıt sound like proper magick to you? Want to hear something spookier? How about animism? Kids see life where we donıt; everythingıs alive to them when they want it to be. Like little shamans. Another boy I knew, his mother used to treat him badly. I donıt know if there was sexual abuse, but she certainly hit the poor child something awful, and he never got fed properly. He used to come in here early morning, use money heıd pinched from her purse, and buy himself breakfast. We always had something ready for him, you understand, and we tried not to charge him, but he always insisted upon paying. Very proper little fellow, but with big bruises on his cute little cheeks, and his hands red and bloody where his mom used to rub his hands against the cheese grater. He was six. Called Andrew.
I tried to get this to the authorities, of course, but heıd never tell me his second name, and he was a slippery child, couldnıt follow him home. My magick couldnıt touch him either heıd worked out his own rituals of protection, I know now, centered around his teddy bear, Winston, which heıd carry with him all the time. Bigger than him, that bear. Sometimes he used to buy food for it as well as himself. Theyıd sit there, him on one stool, the bear on another, both with food in front of them. The bearıs food would be gone when you looked later. I used to assume Andrew ate it now, I donıt know.
See, one day Andrew came in, holding Winston as normal. Difference was, Winston had red paint on his snout and his paws. Well, I thought it was red paint. He ate, he left, only thing was, he said "Goodbye" instead of "See you," like he normally did. You can probably guess the story I saw in the newspapers the next day some woman torn up really bad, like sheıd been attacked by an animal. Never saw Andrew again.
Final story, before Iıve got to get back to work. Kids pretend to be other people a lot, and thereıs an awful lot of energy in masks, if you understand me, when it comes to magick. Powerful stuff. Iıve never met a kid Avatar myself, but Iıve heard stories. Anyway thereıs a little Hindu girl, maybe ten, Alex, comes in here on her way to school with her brothers. Sweet child, but plain. Some peopleıd say ugly, but Iıd say plain. Bothers her, too, cause her brothers are always teasing her about it.
Yesterday, though, this gorgeous woman walks in here. Beautiful woman, total head-turner, all my male staff and customers are drooling and Iım thinking "She sure looks familiar where do I know that girl from?" Around about eighteen, she looked, Indian, high cheekbones, soft brown eyes, this perfect skin, black hair down to her waist fantastic looking. But there was something odd about her. It only clicked when she was walking out. She didnıt walk like she was used to being beautiful, she walked like she was showing off a new fur coat and she wasnıt used to being that tall, either.
Then I saw Alex today, and she was grinning like a cat. Never seen her so happy. She walked in here, and she winked at me. So Iım pretty certain it was her. Iıve got to have a word with the child, though. Imagine if she pulled that trick in a bar or something not that I know what Iım going to say.
Well, thatıs pretty much it. Thing youıve got to remember is, children forget this things later on most of them, anyway. But thatıs where magick starts, back there before you really know who you are. Read the Mary Poppins books; theyıd tell you more than I ever could. See you around, anyway. Have a nice day."