The Young Magician

about zero?’ Samuel asked. ‘You can have zero crowns, can’t you? — even half a crown? I learnt that before from my cousin.’

‘Can you?’ Mr Kelvin asked. ‘Go get me zero sheep, zero ships or zero apples? You cannot, for less than one of anything does not exist, except in our minds as a concept-for there is only something, or a lack of something. You cannot cut a nothing in half and have half a nothing. If you cut an apple in half, your mind tells you that you have half an apple. In reality, you have one apple half. You can never have less than one something, or you have nothing.’

Samuel was now very confused.

Mr Kelvin smiled. ‘Let me try another example. Of course, you can have a half-crown or a half a bucket of water, but again, these are only our own concepts. Our minds attempt to simplify the world around us so we can better understand it. A half-crown is only called a half-crown for that is what it is worth and, not too long ago, it actually was a crown that was cut in half. Now, we actually have a coin with a half-crown value. Tomorrow, try to think of anything you can find that is not a whole thing, or itself comprised of many, one things.’ Samuel was still lost and the more Mr Kelvin tried explaining, the worse it became. ‘One is the only real number. The others are merely for our convenience.’ Mr Kelvin finally realised he was talking above the boy’s head and changed his tack. ‘I’m sorry. These concepts are for future days. Now, Samuel, I would like you to make me a one. I know it is a simple task for you, but the beginning is always a good place to start. That was actually the point I was trying to make before I so terribly digressed.’

He handed the quill to Samuel who carefully dipped the end into the inkwell and withdrew it again. A great blob of black fluid hung from its tip.

Mr Kelvin drew a small rag from his pocket. ‘Now, that is far too much. It will puddle on the parchment and ruin everything.’ He took the quill from Samuel, wiped it, and then handed it back. ‘Try again.’

Samuel did and this time Mr Kelvin nodded approvingly. Samuel put the nib to the paper and dragged out a line. The nib scratched loudly against the grain of the paper and the line resembled a wobbly twig. Samuel was not happy with it at all. He could do far better with his chalk on the stones.

‘That’s fine for a first attempt, Samuel,’ Mr Kelvin lauded, smiling. ‘Only practice is needed. Experience is the greatest teacher. I can instruct you, but only you can learn, and practice, proper practice, is the surest way to learn.’

Samuel wished Mr Kelvin would talk more simply. The man could not finish with yes or no, but insisted on tacking a whole lecture to the end of every sentence.

Mr Kelvin stood. ‘I will leave these with you, Samuel.’

‘Is that all?’ Samuel asked.

‘Probably too much. Practise your ones. Get used to the feel of the pen on the parchment. Fill about three pages for tonight and tomorrow we shall do more.’

‘Thank you, Mr Kelvin,’ Samuel said. ‘What is this book?’ he asked, holding the small object up. It bore a single stylised word on the cover that Samuel could not recognise.

‘It is a lesson book. It says introduction. You may browse through it if you like, but don’t read too much for now or it will only confuse you.’

Samuel placed it back down. ‘Thank you.’

Mr Kelvin nodded and turned from the room. Pausing in the doorway, Mr Kelvin stood a moment and looked back at Samuel. He peered in at the boy, as if trying to perceive some tiny detail, just as he had done on that first day. Samuel tried to ignore the man staring in at him and looked down at his paper. When he looked up again, Mr Kelvin was gone, with his boots sounding on the stable floor and then crunching out into the yard towards the main building, softer and softer until they became too distant to hear.

Samuel was excited to use his new quill. He at once spread the parchment out on the floor and placed some objects on the corners to hold it flat: his shoes, a horseshoe and a couple of stones. He held his lower lip between his teeth as he carefully scratched out a page of ones. He often had to try and blot up a terrible mess or wipe the ink-laden quill. When he was done, he examined his creation. The page seemed scrawled with flattened, skinny slugs. The next page was not nearly so much fun and, by the last, his ones were terrible, as it had become somewhat tiresome. This learning was not as much fun as he expected. With Jessicah, it was always giggles and games.

Having become bored, Samuel screwed the cap back onto the inkwell and rolled over, facing the roof. He picked up the lesson book and turned to the first page. It seemed aged, for the words were faded and the pages well bent. It bore only a number one and below it was ‘one’ spelt out and below that was a picture of an apple. The second page had number two with ‘two’ written below that and two apples. It continued in that manner with numbers and apples up to twenty apples. By then, the page was filled with apples and Samuel realised how much simpler it was to draw a twenty than to draw all those apples. Samuel was confident up to the twelfth page, for he had practised counting to twelve often, but above that, it took him longer. He tried opening to a page and covering the number before he could recognise it, and then counted all the apples, comparing his answer. It usually took a few times to get the numbers in correct order and he had particular trouble with eighteen and nineteen. Finally, he became tired, blew out his lamp and crawled beneath his covers, with numbers and apples fading from his eyes.

Samuel saw nothing of Mr Kelvin all the next day until, shortly after dinner, he and Kans came grunting into the stable, struggling with a desk between them. Samuel quickly tidied a spot in his room as they shoved it in though the doorway and over into the corner.

‘Thank you, Kans,’ Mr Kelvin puffed, wiping his brow.

Kans turned and walked out wordlessly, not looking very happy at all.

‘Now, you can put your writing things on here and have somewhere proper to work,’ Mr Kelvin explained.

Samuel did so and by then, Kans had reappeared with a small chair. After pushing it beneath the desk, he again stalked away, grumbling loudly so as to be well heard.

‘How did you fare last night?’ Mr Kelvin asked.

‘Not too bad, I suppose,’ Samuel answered and unfolded the papers for Mr Kelvin’s nodding inspection.

‘You supposed correctly, Samuel. They are not too bad at all. Did you read the book?’

Samuel nodded. ‘I can manage up to twenty…almost.’

‘Show me,’ Mr Kelvin requested.

Samuel began rattling off numbers one by one until he reached sixteen. After that, he had to think a little bit before the next came to him. He knew he had done it correctly when there was nothing left but twenty to say.

‘Twenty!’ he said with glee.

‘Very good, Samuel,’ Mr Kelvin said. ‘But what about thirteen?’

Samuel froze. Had he forgotten thirteen? He must have. He had ignored it in his haste. ‘Oh,’ he said with shame.

‘Don’t worry. You did very well. You have nearly mastered counting.’

‘Aren’t there a lot more numbers, Mr Kelvin?’

Mr Kelvin laughed aloud. ‘Of course, but you don’t need to say them all one by one to know them. It’s all very repetitive. After tonight, you will see. I have the next book.’ He patted his pocket. ‘Now, I would like you to write up to twenty for me. Take your time. I will help you.’

Samuel prepared his quill and then began to write. He was amazed when his very first number, one, was straight and true.

‘I couldn’t do it that well last night,’ Samuel noted.

‘Practice,’ Mr Kelvin repeated, echoing his words from the night before. ‘Practice is certainly important but, once you become tired, it no longer serves its purpose. Every stroke you made last night would have been better than the last, but the fact that your mind and body were both tiring made them appear even worse. Now that you are no longer tired, you can do it with ease. Now, keep going.’

Samuel continued writing and was happy to finally reach twenty. Mr Kelvin had to coach him at a few points, but he finally had it right.