The Fool

The Fool

Cat magic came to Jim Aldershot on a hot, dry, summer's day, two weeks out from the end of his school holidays.

The heat of the afternoon had sapped his energy and now he had  fetched up under the shade of his front porch lazily racing snails. He had found them under some old boards behind his father’s shed where the grass still grew wet and dark back there, even on days like this.

As he idly watched their slow progress, sometimes absently correcting their direction, a flash of colour caught his eye.

Looking up Jim saw a figure coming down the street. As it got closer Jim saw it was a strange man, bony as a stick-insect but with bright reddish-orange hair walking down the street. He was dressed in a long jacket made up of a kaleidoscope of multi-coloured patches one on top of the other. In fact, there were so many patches on patches that it was almost as if the original jacket no longer existed.

And the colour didn't stop there. Under the jacket a dazzling yellow and orange shirt with a sharp pointed collar, patched trousers of bright duck egg blue and on his feet, slightly scuffed but still bright, red suede boots.

Above it all, a great top hat with one single, super sized, tangerine square that matched, almost exactly, the colour of his hair.

When the man drew close to the gate, he looked across and caught sight of Jim staring at him and reached up to the rim of his hat to remove it with a great sweeping bow.

“How are you this good day sir?” inquired the man.

“I’m . . . I’m good.” Jim stuttered, gaping all the while at the man’s bright clothes and more than just a little surprised at being spoken to by this strange man.

“It’s a lovely day isn’t it,” continued the stranger, seemingly not noticing Jim’s wide open mouth.

Still trying to take it all in Jim didn't hear the man's comment.

When Jim failed to reply the man said: “You know young lad, I remember when I was small, hearing the story of a young boy, not unlike yourself now I think about it, who went to a circus to see the world’s greatest tightrope walker.

“After her performance, he ran around behind the big top to see if he could catch sight of her again. Well, he saw her all right. There she was, walking on the finest thinnest rope he had ever seen.

"Then, ever so carefully, she stepped right off the rope and walked on nothing but the air (yes, her balance was that good).

“The boy was so surprised that his jaw dropped open, just like yours. At that very moment a wind came rushing out of the west, blew straight into his mouth and filled him up like a balloon. In an instant he shot into the air and was never seen again - although I do believe there were some reports of a strange UFO that same day.”

Jim’s mouth clacked shut and the bright man began to gently laugh.

“Of course,” he added as an afterthought. “That would never happen on a beautiful day like this.”

Then, with a cheery wave, he bade Jim farewell and once again set on his way.

As you can imagine, Jim was curious beyond belief. When the man was far enough away not to notice him any more, he climbed the fence and set off after the strange fellow. He followed warily at first, close enough to see what the colourful figure was doing but not too close in case he was seen himself.

Very soon Jim realized that he wasn’t the only one following the man, but was one of a number of neighbourhood children all chasing in the wake of his brightly coloured steps.

“Who is he?” they asked each other. “Do you know him?"

"Perhaps he is a clown escaped from a circus,” someone suggested.

As they watched, the colourful man bent down to stroke a cat that appeared from the bushes and wound its tail around his bright red boots. From where they were, behind bushes, fences (and one a much too thin letter box), it appeared to the children that he was talking to the cat, responding to its meows as though in conversation.

After a while the man set off again, waving goodbye to the cat, which disappeared on fleet and silent feet back into the bushes.

Eventually, with children still following, the stranger came at last to a park, where tall trees, with great winding roots grew. Once there, he sat beneath the shade of the great overhanging branches and leaned against the enormous trunk to stare up with the appearance of great contentment at the summer sky. Giggling amongst themselves the children hid at a distance, still watching but afraid to come closer.

Next, as if performing for his hidden audience, the man produced a small wooden flute straight out of the air like a magician. Putting it to his lips, he began to play a tune so full of smiles and laughter that the children soon forgot their nervousness.

One by one they came out from behind the bushes to watch him. There must have been something magical about that flute, because the birds in the trees and the other animals stopped to watch also, gathering around as close as they dared.

Finally Jim’s curiosity got the better of him and he plucked up his courage and went right over to where the man sat.

“What’s that tune you’re playing?” he asked

“Why that’s the tune they play in the court of the King of Cats,” replied the man taking the flute away from his lips. “It is in fact his favourite tune.”

“The King of Cats, who is that?”

The man raised his eyebrows as if surprised that Jim didn’t know.

“Why the King of Cats is the lord of all the cats in the world,” he replied. “It is in his court that all feline matters are solved and the one place where the knowledge of all cat magic is kept.”

“What is cat magic?” asked a strawberry-haired girl who had come up behind Jim.

“Why cat magic is a magic that gives a cat nine lives,” the man replied his eyes asparkle.

“It is the magic that allows a cat to ride on moon beams to the dark side of the moon and visit the king himself. The magic that lets a cat always land on its feet and leap glorious distances, that enables it to balance precariously on the thinnest line like a tightrope walker and tread soft as goose down when it walks.”

“And who are you?” Jim asked.

“I used to have another name, when I lived in this very town many years ago, but now I am called The Fool, which is a very worthy title indeed,” said the man. “Given to me by none other than the King of Cats himself, when I was first a visitor in his court.”

“Tell us about his court,” begged another boy, for by now all the children had gathered around, at first hiding one behind the other, but becoming more confident as he began spinning his web of charm.

“Ah!” The Fool exclaimed. “The court of the King of Cats is a wonderful place full of magic and enchantment…”

And with that he proceeded to tell them of his adventures with the king on the dark side of the moon.

When at last evening fell The Fool tried to send them all home, telling them that they should not be out after dark at such a young age, but their piteous cries at having to depart made him promise that he would be under the same tree tomorrow, to tell them more about his life with the King of Cats.

Sure enough he was there the next day and the next, so that all through their summer holidays they were beguiled by tales of that splendid world on the dark side of the moon.

Author's Note

I feel really uncomfortable with the way this starts. Substantial editing required, so some input would be useful from reviewers. Thoughts, comments, suggestions welcomed. More to come over the next few weeks. This hasn't been reworked much from the original but some of the following chapters will definitely take a big hit on the editing side.

Reviews

[Muse]

Maybe try something like....Cat magic crashed in on Jim Aldershot like a drive by circus act. Verses:
Cat magic came to Jim Aldershot on a hot, dry, summer's day...
I dunno...what I'm trying to say isperhaps your beginning sounds a little cliche. Most of your story is highly creative...metaphorical...surreal. So the opening needs to match the rest of the story. If it's a stranger of great magic this child is meeting...then the opening needs to feel magical? I will be honest...I too am not crazy about the opening...but the middle and the end...brilliant work. I can imagine this as a children's book easy...fix the opening credits...throw in some fantastic colorful imagery...WALLA...you have a best seller! :D