The Wizard Tales Vol I-III: The Wizard Tales

The Wizard Tales

Vol I-III

by

Red Tash

Copyright 2011-2013 Red Tash Books

ePub edition

Work summary:

The Wizard Takes a Holiday is a flash fiction humorous rural fantasy of about 1500 words. 

The Wizard Takes a Fitness Class: A wandering wizard with regrets on his mind finds himself in a dance-off against an old enemy.  About 5600 words

Lucian's First Trick is the story of a young man's last night in the childhood realm of his mundane life.  Sometimes when you say Trick or Treat, you get what you ask for. Originally published in Sirens Call Issue #5, October 2012. Approximately 3500 words. 

The Wizard Takes the Cake: The mysterious Wizard takes a student as his +1 to the wedding of an old friend in this episode of the Wizard Tales, the longest yet.  About 10,000 words 

A Laurents County Landfill Christmas: The Wizard bookends this fantastical tale from ruralfab Indiana.  Starring the characters of Troll Or Derby.  Originally published as part of the Let It Snow! Season's Readings for a Super-Cool Yule collection. About 6500 words

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The Wizard Takes a Holiday

I stroked my beard, fluffing it proudly, and propped my feet on the boombox in front of me. The drive-in was crowded, and all around me, men, women, and children were dressed in what were supposed to be frightening costumes. Serial killers.  Ghouls. Lots and lots of fake blood.

I’d seen the real thing.  They couldn’t scare me.

I peeled open my cardboard box of chocolate covered raisins, and balanced a skiff of deep fried pickles on my thigh, waiting for them to cool.  What delicacies!  What a vacation!  I took a long sip of the off-brand Red Crème soda I’d found at the primitive, but well-stocked snack bar.  What a pleasant summer night. 

Next to me, a family had backed their minivan into a tight space, and children of all ages spilled out the trunk in a tumultuous explosion of bright summer clothing and tan skin. Multi-color quilts went down on the grass immediately.  The mother tossed out bags of snacks which the kids tore into with relish.  Bright orange cheesy puffs.  Popcorn.  I raised my can in salute.

The littlest of the bunch, no more than a toddler, approached me with her hand outstretched. She held the other behind her back. I smiled, wishing I could wipe her nose for her, or magic her entire face clean, but knowing neither was my place. She proffered a bright orange cheese snack, and I obliged, lest I hurt her feelings. She opened her other fist, revealing a tiny brown toad, half-squished. I swallowed hard on my snack and made a mental note to place an anti-salmonella charm on myself as soon as no one was looking.

For all I had heard about Americans and their wastefulness, I had to admire my present company’s devotion to the antiquated custom of viewing film outdoors. Despite a sold out crowd, the natives waited patiently for the restrooms, doubtlessly slowed more than normal by the necessity of peeling off a variety of costumes. Instead of hiding inside the air conditioned caverns of the local WayTooManyPlex, these country denizens were gathered on a late summer’s night out of doors, among the mosquitoes and the inevitable stickiness of the evening dew to watch a horror film festival.

Here, they could move about freely. Here, they could make the solitary viewing experience a social one. Here, a tiny snot-nosed tot was free to offer an old wizard a cheese snack, at his own risk.

Oh, is there anything like getting away from it all to make you appreciate the joy of living?  I couldn’t wait to see what the night would bring.

We were mid-way through the opening feature when I heard a series of bangs at the top of the hill, behind me.

The proprietor of the drive-in cut into the broadcast.  A reminder, folks. We know you are excited, and we all love to celebrate Night O’ Fright here at the Georgeville Drive-In, but fireworks are never allowed, and offenders will be asked to leave.  There was a pause, some static, then Please enjoy the movies here with us, under the stars.

A groan went up from the back row. Not the disappointed groan of revelers denied their fun, however.  No, in my reckoning it was something much worse than a few American hicks moaning and banging around for their kicks.

The hair stood on the back of my neck, a signal I had learned long ago never to ignore.  I reached beneath my lightweight wizarding cap to scratch my scalp. Next door, the children were rapt in attention, completely desensitized to the classic horror flick gracing the aluminum screen. I searched the tangled mass for the baby of the bunch, and her squishy toad.

Another bang, and this time, a roar.  A young actress’ muted scream resounded through the drive-in’s antiquated speaker system, and echoed from the radios tuned to its frequency, all around me.

Confound it, anyway, I whispered under my breath. If there were no local wizards in the vicinity present to take care of this, I supposed I had better. Besides, I felt oddly compelled to defend the little cheese snack girl, should the need arise. So much for vacation.  I set the fried pickles down and set out in search of trouble, once again.

I found the troll on the edge of the drive-in.  Someone had most definitely magicked the beast, as well as the drive-in staff, not to mention the majority of patrons crowding the back aisles.  Truckloads of teenagers were happily swinging glow sticks and swilling cheap beer, paying no attention to the hulking twelve-foot blue-skinned giant in overalls who threatened their safety.

I sighed, appraising him best I could in the growing darkness.  A young thing, he was.  He bounced a tractor tire into the back of an oversized pick-up truck, where it rebounded back to him. Every few bounces he turned his head and roared.

I looked around. No one appeared to take any notice of me and my wanderings.  I suppose even an old wizard can still catch a break, from time-to-time.

Sorcerious Revelio! I called softly, stealing my wand from beneath my summer robes.

A faint glow lit the back of the pick-up truck. Surely the troll charmer would be found inside.

Imagine my surprise upon reaching the back of the truck, ready to scold my fellow wizard for inappropriate use of sorcery in a public place—American customs be damned—only to find the little cheese snack girl, smiling up at me, her face even messier than before.

The troll bellowed, and I cast a protective enchantment around us.  His tire froze in mid-air, and he banged his fists against the magical field.

The little tot erupted instantly into tears. She pointed furtively at the creature, crying Pay!  Pay wid me! She wiped her grubby nose with the back of her hand as she cried, her last playmate still gripped tightly inside, from the look and smell of it.

Alas, Poor Toady, I said.  I reached down and stroked her hair.

Toady? she said, opening her hand and offering me what was surely meant as a fine gift. I wondered how often the wee one had made accidental sacrifices of such wild and plentiful offerings. I imagined she’d discovered like most magical children do, that the average family commode makes for a proficient cauldron of sorts. Oh, the grisly potions a mere babe could conjure!

I cursed the troll with a tiny bit of amnesia—only enough to send it home to its own mother.  He had been innocent, I thought, and perhaps like this young lady, the junior of a brood with whom the elders would not deign to play.

I walked my young friend back