The Neverchanging Story

by Gary D. Snyder

Part 4:

The five neophyte Hogsnorts students moved along the large hall, uncertain what to expect or how the others they encountered would react to them. It seems that they needn't have worried, as no one seemed to really notice them. If they spoke to anyone they passed they discovered that the person addressed would give them a polite but curt greeting, but nothing more. Jimmy thought about this.

"It seems," he said at last, "that unless the story contains some specific interaction between our characters and the other people here then those people won't do anything very involved. That simplifies things. It means we don't have to worry about trying to figure out how to act around most of the characters here."

"Oooh! What is that?" asked Carl suddenly.

Everyone looked to see what Carl was pointing at. It appeared to be a large, glass-enclosed trophy case but instead of the usual collection of trophies and awards most schools would have only a single large, shiny object appeared to be inside. Moving closer the object seemed to be a large, highly polished silver bowl with handles and a cover. Even closer examination revealed a small metal plaque on the case with the inscription

TUREEN OF THE FIRST GENERAL CONCOURSE OF WIZARDS

ON TEMPORARY LOAN FROM THE L'PALAZZIO DI ACADEMIA ARCANA

TURIN, ITALY

"The Tureen of Turin!" exclaimed Cindy, quite unnecessarily.

"So that's what the book is about," added Libby.

"Cool!" said Sheen. "What does it do?"

"It holds soup," said Jimmy, sounding completely unimpressed.

"Is that's all?" asked Carl, sounding disappointed.

"And stews," was Jimmy's bored response.

"Oh, pendanticize much," Cindy shot back. "If this was from the First General Concourse of Wizards it has to be an artifact of great power, capable of…of…"

"Keeping liquid dishes hot while serving?" Jimmy asked.

Before Cindy could get out a comeback there was a throat-clearing sound behind them. They all turned to see the source of the noise and beheld a middle-aged, rather cross-looking woman wearing a severe expression, pince-nez glasses, and loose, flowing robes of some dark material. Although none of them had ever seen her before they recognized at once from her expression, posture, and demeanor that she was an instructor.

"Hi," Carl offered.

"Good morning, Mister Snives," the woman replied somewhat frostily. "I trust there is some pressing matter that is keeping you and your associates from your first class?"

"We were just looking at the turin," Carl answered.

"He means the Tureen from Turin," explained Cindy.

"Yes, I was able to gather his meaning, Miss Fernthistle," the woman replied, sounding as though she felt that Cindy was patronizing her.

"I mean, it's such a fantastic piece of history and all," Cindy stumbled.

The woman's features softened slightly. "Yes, quite. We're very honored to be entrusted with it. It doesn't often leave the Academy in Turin, but recent events involving Mister Fodder and others of you have gained our own school some small measure of, shall we say, recognition amongst the our esteemed sister institutions."

"Quite," replied Cindy, not quite sure what else to say.

"And now, if you're quite through lollygagging, it's time for class. Come along!" And with that the woman moved purposefully down the hall with the children in tow.

"This is a break," whispered Jimmy. "Apparently she's the teacher for our first class. That means we won't have to ask anyone where it is and how to find it."

"Why would that be a problem?" Libby whispered back.

"I don't know exactly how the characters here would take to us not knowing anything about our own lives. The less we interact with people, the better."

"Why did she notice us when no one else did?" Sheen wanted to know.

"Apparently it's important to the development of the story," whispered Cindy, who was catching on to the situation. "I think that anything specific that happens to us is what is supposed to takes place in the story."

"Exactly," agreed Jimmy.

As the kids finished their private exchanges they entered a classroom in which a dozen or so students were already seated. As the instructor proceeded to the head of the class one nasty-looking student remarked to Jimmy in a low voice, "Trying to curry favor with Miss Trelawney again, Fodder?"

So that's her name, thought Jimmy. "Hey, Cindy," he whispered as they slid into empty seats. "Who is Miss Trelawney?"

"Miss Ingersol Trelawney teaches the course on Magical Conjurations," Cindy replied. "It involves making things appear and disappear."

Miss Trelawney rapped on the desk. "All right, class, I trust that you've all prepared for today's lesson."

"No problems, teach," replied Sheen, not seeing Jimmy's frantic gestures. "Fire away."

The instructor fixed Sheen with an icy stare. "When you address me, Mr. Toadspittle, it will be as 'Miss Trelawney' or 'Ma'am'. However, as you seem to feel that you have the situation well in hand, perhaps you will come to the front of the class and give the magic demonstration you've prepared."

"Magic…demonstration?" Sheen faltered. "Actually…uh…I thought you meant…"

"Now!"

As though walking the last mile Sheen rose slowly to his feet and trudged to the front of the room, painfully aware of the gaze of the other students. Some faces showed sympathy and pity, while others were filled with ill-concealed delight. Jimmy's was filled with undisguised apprehension. "Well," said Sheen, "I don't really have anything special prepared for today, but I guess I do have one or two things I can try." He cleared his throat. "Could I please have a volunteer from the audience and a deck of cards, or perhaps a quarter and a handkerchief?"

Jimmy's large head hit the top of his desk with a very audible thump. He's doomed, thought Jimmy.

End of Part 4.