Free The Loblolly Boy and the Sorcerer by James Norcliffe Page B

his back to a shop window, a violin case open in front of him with a few silver and gold coins shining on the plush blue velvet. The loblolly boy wasn’t at all surprised when his father stopped to listen to what he had to offer.
    The busker was unusual for a street performer. For a start he was dressed in a dinner suit and a black bow tie as if he were playing in a major orchestra not on a street corner in a small provincial city. He was very tall, and his height accentuated his slenderness. He was not only elegant, but everything he was wearing looked as if it had come from some swanky store, not from the Salvation Army. His shoes were patent leather and shone brilliantlyin the afternoon sun. His jacket sleeves were pulled back to facilitate his playing and his cuffs were fastened with black onyx links with small gold chains. His hair was long and silver …
    The loblolly boy could not work out how old he was. He looked young and energetic but the long silver hair suggested he was much older.
    He was playing a violin, a strange jaunty tune that the loblolly boy recognised from somewhere. His playing completely absorbed the busker. His head was lifted up and his eyes stared up into the inside of his head so that all his watchers could see were sockets of almond white. This was so disconcerting that the loblolly boy shuddered. He was half-wondering whether he’d come across yet another blind person when two things happened.
    Firstly, the loblolly boy remembered where he’d heard the melody before. The last time he’d heard those haunting cadences they’d been brayed at him in a little cabin by the sea.
    The busker was playing the Captain’s strange shanty. What was it? The Jugglers, the Sorcerer and the Gadget Man .
    The second thing was that the busker seemed to return to the real world. He certainly was not blind. He looked about him at the small crowd of spectators, and his eyes were sharp and penetrating. The loblolly boy had never seen such a cold, calculating appraisal. As they swept over him he could not tell whether the man had been aware of him or not, all he noted were that the man’s eyes were almost as black as his onyx cuff-links, and as hard.
    And not only were they black and hard, they seemed asold as time, like coal, like anthracite, aeons old.
    Once the gaze had left him, although he still felt unnerved, the loblolly boy couldn’t help but call out. ‘Do you know the words to that tune?’
    The busker, who had continued playing throughout, gave no indication that he’d heard the question. However, some seconds later after finishing the verse section he returned to the refrain and this time he sang the words the loblolly boy half remembered, albeit in a rich and baritone voice quite unlike the Captain’s caterwauling.
    From Zanzibar to Marzipan
    From Span to Spic and Spic to Span
    From the Burning Fire to the Frying Pan
    Fear the Jugglers, the Sorcerer
    and the Gadget Man
    Eee Diddly Eye Do — Bam Bam!
    At the Bam Bam ! part he’d given off playing and banged the violin firmly twice with the back of his bow. It was sharp, violent and unexpected. The small group of spectators laughed a little nervously.
    And then the busker continued with a verse, but it was not a verse the Captain had sung, and the loblolly boy shrank a little, so sinister was it:
    You’re locked in a clock with two dead hands
    with the Jugglers, the Sorcerer
    and the Gadget Man
    And he completed the song with another playing of the refrain, although this time he did not sing.
    Then he suddenly stopped and bowed deeply, as if he’d been performing at the Royal Albert Hall. There was some desultory applause, one or two people threw coins into the violin case, and most moved away. The busker straightened and looked about him again with those glittery eyes, and then abruptly stepped right in front of the loblolly boy. He slipped his free hand into his pocket and brought out a small ivory rat which he held directly before him so that