The Magician, The Jester and The Accountant
Reading time: 11 minutes
Image: SGENET
Once upon a time the great magician Aburobouros roamed the western lands, entertaining ordinary folk and kings alike. His narrow shoulders were caressed by long black hair which hid an ash white face that had a large, hawk-like nose sticking out like the sign of an inn. A black goatee appeared to split his chin in two, yet by contrast his eyes were of the brightest blue imaginable with an amusing twinkle dancing from one to the other and back, and it was exactly those eyes with which he mesmerized his audiences – particularly those of the female clan. Because in addition to the eyes, he was also a mighty fine dancer and poet.
While a gentle breeze cooled the warm and moist air of early summer, Aburobouros entered the city gates of one of the free merchant cities in Northern Europe. There was activity all over de dusty streets; cargo was being hoisted onto ships, merchants were clapping hands over a load of spices from the orient and a rumbling noise combined with laughter came out of a tavern. Having been on the road already for a long time and in dire need of refreshments and a decent bed for the night, our magician moved himself into the tavern’s direction.
Right before he reached out for the doorpost the door swung open towards him as a customer appeared to involuntarily leave the establishment, which is to say face first, immediately followed by an imposing figure with an immense chest and a moustache one could sweep floors with.
“That was the last time Jack. Be happy that you live to see another day!” he growled, after which he turned around and stomped back into the tavern.
“Are you all right?” Aburobouros asked while bending over towards the prone laying figure in the street.
“Yef, I’m fine, fank you.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you if you buy me a ftiff drink.”
“I doubt it will be a good idea to take you back in there. But if you tell me what happened, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Hmmm. Promife?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Aburobouros answered while making the sign of the cross.
“Okay then. I waf juft enjoying a nife game of poker when thif brute began to accufe me of fheating.”
“Aha. And? Were you?”
“Are you calling me a fheat too?”
“I don’t know. Were you winning or losing?”
“I waf winning fery nifely, fhank you fery muf. Why you fhink they’f got upfet?”
“Hmmm yes, I guess you have a point. And from the looks of it you wouldn’t like to quit now, am I right?”
“Yef, right.”
Aburobouros peered into the direction of the tavern for a minute, and then gazed at the sky.
“Do you know who I am?” he then asked the sod who in the meantime had been able to stumble onto his feet.
“Do I look like I know?”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I am the great magician Aburobouros, entertainer of kings and nobles across the free world. Wherever I go prosperity rules and whomever I touch is blessed with royal approval, for I carry the gifts of amazement and laughter, enchantment and joy, seduction and merriment. If you, my fine fellow, hand me your winnings, I’ll go in there and triple them for you.”
The beaten sod blinked his eyes a few times, then stared at the door of the tavern and back into the bright blue eyes of Aburobouros, who, with a smile sweeter than honey with brown sugar added, eagerly awaited the results of his act.
“Let me get thif ftraight. You wifh to take my money and go in fhere, to triple fhat amount and fhen come back out and hand it to me. If fhat correct?”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself!”
“Ha….haha…..wahahahahahahahaha! Haaaaaahahahahahaha!” The man almost fell over while laughing so incredibly hard, slapping his thigh and trying to breathe in between while tears were rolling over his cheeks. Aburobouros, on the other hand, didn’t share in this sudden outburst of pure merriment. His face showed more resemblance with Tom the cat who was sure to have caught Jerry the mouse, only to see Jerry disappear once again into his little hole in the wall.
When the laughter died down after some minutes and the man got a hold of himself again, he said: “Well mifter, you might not hafe bought me a drink, but your comedy furely brifhtened my day. Fank you fery muf!”
Aburobouros’ eyes followed the figure walking away in bewilderment.
“And? Happy?” a voice spoke from on top of a wooden barrel.
“Oh put a sock in it E, let’s go.” Aburobouros said as he turned back into the direction of the tavern while being followed by Equinox, his faithful jester, jumping off the barrel to follow the master.
Now there’s jesters and there’s Equinox. Your average jester usually has a physical deformity, like a dwarf or a hunchback, of which others can make fun. Equinox, on the other hand, was of an immense beauty. Yes, there were the cap and bells, but the body filling it was almost as if it had been sculpted. It was however a mystery whether the jester was male or female, for in the whole body features of both sexes were distinctly recognizable. The shoulders looked like those of a male swimmer, yet the waist and hips had unmistakable female curves. The Adams apple stuck out like a man’s, yet the facial lines and cheekbones were round, soft and feminine. Nothing is known of the hair since it was entirely covered by the jesters cap, but one feature surpassed all the others, and that was the fact that Equinox had an expressionless face. That is not to say there were no facial features, for there were eyes, a nose and a mouth, but never were emotions or states of being to be read from it; distinctions between jolly or sad, joy or anxiety, couldn’t be made.
“Ah, a greenhorn! Why don’t you leave your ventriloquist’s doll at the bar and join us for a friendly game of poker, mister!” the broom-moustache shouted towards Aburobouros.
“Why don’t mind if I do,” he replied, “since seeing dusty roads for weeks on end has a numbing effect on the brain and senses and my constitution needs a little innocent fun. However, since I’m a little rusty, pray explain the rules one time.”
A soft chuckle went around the table, almost inaudible, but still enough for Equinox to turn the jester's head with the laughing face up a little.
Normally a jester's stick has only one jester's head, but Equinox’s specimen has heads at both ends of the stick: a jester's head with a laughing face at one end and one with a weeping face at the other. These heads reflect the state of mind of the master to whom the jester belongs. The smiling face can turn into any imaginable positive mood, the weeping face into any imaginable negative mood. It pretty much works like a clock, and depending on the masters mood either the laughing of the crying face points upwards. However, when there is tranquillity and peace of mind, the stick is held horizontally and both faces are expressionless.
“Here we play Texas Hold’em. Royal flush beats straight flush, four-of-a-kind beats full house, flush beats straight, three-of-a-kind beats two pair, pair beats high card. Any questions?”
“It’s coming back to me rather quickly I have to say. And what’s the betting structure?”
A dark voice coming from the shady side of the table snarled:
“No limit.”
Equinox turned the jester’s head with the smiling face even more upwards while Aburobouros put on his most enchanting smile and cheered:
“What are we waiting for? Let’s play gentlemen.”
It wasn’t before long that Aburobouros saw his pile of chips growing rapidly, which wasn’t exactly creating a warm and cosy atmosphere at the table. Sensing the same, the magician proclaimed:
“Gentleman, even though lady luck appears to be on my side until now, it would be presumptuous of me to expect her to stay there forever. Therefore, if you’d be so good as to excuse me and allow me to thank you for our pleasant get together, I’ll retire to my quarters and wish you a fine remainder of the evening.”
“I don’t think so.”
The room temperature dropped a few degrees while a large shadow rose from the shady side of the table.
“You’re not going anywhere before handing back our money.”
“Ah, now that is a little bit of a shame,” Aburobouros cheered, while noticing the revolver in the hand of the shadow, “I’ll be sure to compensate you fair and square, in the style a magician befits.”
A lightning flash emerged from the table.
“Now, since my winnings were obtained fair and square and I am not inclined to return them, I guess you’ll have to shoot me.”
The shadow tried to pull the trigger of the banana he was holding.
“Well done! My turn.”
Two shots later the shadow collapsed. By the sight of his excellent gunmanship, the rest of the players fled the tavern. Aburobouros watched them go. About a minute later he turned around.
“Bartender, one of your finest bottles please. What’s with the happy face?”
“Well, aren’t you? Happy?” Equinox inquired.
“It’s nice to have some practice and earn a buck, but a woman would be nice for company.”
The head with the laughing face rose to where it pointed straight upwards while changing into a smug expression.
“What are you staring at and what is your stick grinning at me like that for?”
“Why does it seem your happiness agitates you as much as your rage?” Equinox inquired.
“It certainly does not! When I’m happy, I’m happy. When I’m angry, I’m angry. I like to be happy, I do not like to be angry. When I’m angry, I’m agitated. When I’m happy, I’m certainly not agitated.”
“So what are you now? Because you sound agitated.”
“I’d say halfway between happy and spirited, with a touch of melancholy.”
The jesters stick did not move, nor did the facial expression change.
“Your words differ from your bodily language master, which speaks of a high degree of agitation. Why don’t you lie down and rest for the night?”
“E, I won’t have my evening spoilt. If you want to retire, be my guest, but if you stay here, shut up.”
“But master, it’s the same story all over again. Don’t you ev…”
“Stop it E! I’m warning you!”
The stick quickly turned around to where the head with the weeping face pointed upwards. It’s facial expression quickly turned into a rage.
“Hello there.”
A silken voice spoke with perfumed radiance from the tavern door.
Aburobouros turned around and not believing his eyes, he had to blink multiple times before he got a hold of himself.
“Hello there too mam’. Would it be very presumptuous of me to invite the eighth wonder of the world for a drink at my humble table?”
Leaning with one arm against the doorpost accentuated her round curves in a deep black evening dress. Long red curls covered her shoulders while a hardly visible dance played around the magnificently formed red lips, and all was supported by blinking blood red high heels.
“You have a way with words mister. Think you can walk the walk?”
“It would be so much more than merely an honour to at least try, m’lady.”
With the grace of a swan she glided towards the magician’s table and slid into the offered seat while eyeing the bartender.
“Bourbon, no ice.”
Then turning towards Aburobouros while drilling her eyes in his.
“So, who do I have the pleasure of receiving a drink from?”
“I go by many names, but Aburobouros the Magician is probably best known. Perhaps you’ve heard about me?”
“Hmm, no I don’t think I have ever had the pleasure. Aburobouros you say? Surely I would have remembered such a name.”
“I regret to hear my fame has not reached milady’s senses. May I make an attempt to swoon you with some of my innocent disciplines?”
“In the same way you swooned those gentlemen at the poker table?”
The face of the upward pointing head on the jesters stick turned into caution.
“What do you mean?”
“One lady today became a widow. Four men have to explain to their families that they won’t be able to buy food this week.”
The magician backed a tiny little bit away and sat uneasy on his seat.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Only a minute ago your thoughts about me were very different from what they are now. How come?”
Uneasily Aburobouros gazed at Equinox. He saw the face of the upward pointing head on the stick staring at him anxiously. He didn’t know what to do. Seconds went into minutes. His thoughts were flying around like a hurricane, his heart wanted to beat out of its bony prison and finally the silence got the better of him.
“What do you want?” he hissed.
“That’s the wrong question.” she smiled.
“Then what’s the right question?”
“You ask me.”
“Dammit I don’t want to ask!”
“Then what do you want? Besides me, of course.” she sniggered.
Aburobouros had never felt this uneasy before in his life. There had been amazing successes and a few dramatic failures, but on the whole he pretty much thought to be on top. Yet nobody ever confronted him with his rascality as this lady did right now. The prospect of getting lucky changed like lightning into an almost unending abyss of ghouls hunting him down for his past ‘successes.’ His face turned ice-white. Sweat beads glistened on his forehead.
“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” She asked playfully.
“What….do….you….want?” hiss.
“I’m not here to want anything. I just keep records. Do you know anything about equilibrium?”
“Stop….festering…..meeee!” growl.
“Oh please mister cry-baby, I’m not going to eat you. Do you know anything about equilibrium?”
The magician pulled himself together as much as he could while almost pulling the handrails off his chair.
“You mean,” he sighed heavily, “as in balance?”
“Yes pretty much. Successes and failures balance each other out. It’s impossible to have only successes or failures. Your successes, as you call them, outnumber your failures. That means there’s a disruption of equilibrium, or imbalance. What I can tell you is that equilibrium is always restored. Yet how that happens is another matter.”
“What do you mean…how?”
“By your actions today, one lady became a widow and four families won’t eat for a week. How do you think these people feel about you?”
“Yes, and?”
“If you have to ask that question, you already know how equilibrium will be restored, but you don’t dare to think about it. Which is quite natural, I suspect.”
She sighed a sigh of the lamented while giving him a melancholic stare.
“A shame, really,” as she gently caressed his chin, “so much charm. Oh well.”
In the blink of an eye she had left the tavern. A hole in the air where she sat just a second before was all that remained of the mysterious lady.
Aburobouros’ gaze froze as he saw the upwards pointing head on the jester's stick, and looked into the eyes of a madman.
Jolly greetings,
Erik Stout