Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer.
Once upon a time there was a small boy, named Norman. Norman had a party trick, which was to climb inside a boot as tall as he was. No one was really sure why, or even how it got started. For sure, no one knew where Norman, a small boy of indeterminate age, had even gotten a boot that large.
But those that did not know Norman would meet this charming young man, with boots of his own, and succumb to his big eyes and curly blonde hair. Entranced by his charms, he would shyly say to those he had met – “Want to see a trick?”
Sincerity, and the sweet face would follow, until his audience would shout, “Yes!”
At that point, they would already give him anything. Everyday he plied this at new parties. The thing was. No one really knew how he got in. Or travelled.
Impishly, he would appear at a gathering. Beguiling in his cherubic nature.
“Want to see a trick?”
Enthralled.
“Yes!”
It would be followed. “Bet you I can climb inside my own boot!”, he would say.
The audacity of it! Because of that, they would follow along. The mouth of the grifter, at odds with the eyes of a child and the sweet tones of the voice, would gently lead them to a conclusion.
“Bet you can’t!”
Friendly! A laugh! It’s suddenly their idea! So what’s a few coins to them? He’s a child! And so adorable.
And because of that, they were hooked. Quite where the giant boot came from, no one ever knew. Like a picture suddenly coming in to focus, it had always been there once it was. Rosy cheeked Norman would turn, shyly. Sheepish almost, but like a magician letting you in on a trick.
Seeing how it’s done, the audience didn’t even mind the money they had laid down. They got to see how it was done! Until finally, he would climb the giant laces, and tilt head forward into the boot.
Later, once the spell was over, the curtains drawn, and the evening returned – no one could really say they saw Norman leave. Certainly they remembered … something. Cherubic smile and … a giant boot?
The next day, when going to pay for breakfast or a coffee, they would find that all of their money had gone, but that they couldn’t for the life of them recall where or how. Just a blonde curl peaking out from a floppy hat.
And a giant boot.