The Stranger - Max Frei [137]
“I’ve just started, but it will be enough for me just to see Sir Maba. His face is the most effective tranquilizer I know.”
“You’re right about that, lad. Although this is, of course, an illusion. In fact, I don’t know a more dangerous creature; or a more peaceable one,” Juffin mused, leaving me completely confounded.
It didn’t take as long for us to find Sir Maba Kalox’s house as it had the first time. The living room was empty, but the master of the house came out to greet us in a few minutes.
In his hands, Sir Maba held an enormous tray that he was examining curiously.
“I wanted to surprise you with something tasty, but this seems to be quite inedible.” He hurled away the tray, and I shrank back, anticipating a thundering crash. But the tray disappeared before it reached the floor.
“I know you don’t like repetition, Maba, but we would be thrilled to be offered some of that red potion you treated us to last time,” Juffin suggested hopefully.
“Well, by all means—if you are such dullards that you spurn new sensations.” Sir Maba crawled under the table and drew out a pitcher and three small, delicate cups. They looked familiar.
“You haven’t caught on yet, Max? Maba has compassionately stuck his nose into your own past,” Juffin said laughing.
“Of course! Sinning Magicians, these are the cups from Mom’s best tea set! I’ll tell you a secret, Sir Maba: I hated it! And the rolls you served us last time—they sold them in the greasy spoon across the street from the editorial office where I used to work! Gosh, I’m slow.”
“Probably just not very observant. Besides, you weren’t expecting evidence of things from your world. A person usually sees only what he is expecting to see beforehand. Remember that for the future!” With these words he pulled a pie out from under the table.
“My grandmother’s!” I exclaimed with absolute certainty. “My grandmother’s apple pie! Sir Juffin, now you’ll understand that my homeland isn’t all that bad!”
“No, Max,” Sir Maba said, surprising me yet again. “Not your grandmother’s, but her friend’s. The one who gave your grandmother the recipe. I thought the original would be better than the imitation. Now then, as you have already understood, boys, I solved the riddle. Congratulations, Max. You have created a Tipfinger! Which is quite extraordinary for a novice in our profession. For that matter, is quite extraordinary any way you look at it.”
“What have I created? What’s a Tipfinger? How could I have created something when I have no clue what it is?”
“That’s how it usually works,” Juffin observed. “I don’t think the creator of the universe had any clue what a ‘universe’ was, either.”
“I hate giving lectures, but for the sake of such a promising student, I am willing to abandon my scruples,” Sir Maba said with a sigh. “Everything boils down to this—that in the World there are many ineffable creatures. Among them are Tipfingers. It isn’t that they are so terribly hostile to human beings; but we are too different to arrive at a mutual understanding. Tipfingers come out of nowhere and feed on our fears, anxieties, and forebodings. Occasionally they take on the appearance of a particular person and visit his acquaintances, scaring them with the most uncharacteristic capers, or simply with a look. I can tell you whose appearance you unwittingly gave to the Tipfinger you created. You saw his face only once, on the street, when you were a small child. The face scared you and you began to howl. Then you forgot it, until it came time to open the Door between Worlds. You were well-prepared for this event—you lost no time or energy on unnecessary doubts. I think you both simply chose an opportune moment, Juffin. My congratulations—that took real skill. In fact, Max, you not only opened the Door, you also planted this uncanny creature there, so you would have something