Steiner and the Hypnotic Cue

Chapter 2 The Lady Vanishes

Given the ‘all-clear’ and out of the hospital, the first thing I did was to check my room again. There was no trace of anything, I could not even find the piece of chalk I had ‘borrowed’. 

My mind was racing, trying to work it all out. It all seemed like a dream. Perhaps I really did have a mental breakdown.

I received little comfort in my Religious Studies and Philosophy lesson.  The books were in the same place as I had lifted them (the teacher rarely tidied his desk. Books sat there for weeks on end).

It was time to play detective.

The lesson ended with the afternoon break. I dawdled leaving the room. This was my usual manner and went unnoticed. When the class emptied, I started a fake conversation with the Religious Studies Teacher. I quickly changed subject, asking him to replay the videos on magic, hoping to discover what I did wrong.

He looked a little puzzled, and did as people do when puzzled—he asked some questions. I mumbled a few answers that made little sense. Tempted as he was to ask more questions, he didn’t, agreeing to look instead, as I had ‘shown interest’.

Showing interest was a great trick. We used it all the time to get teachers and staff to do our bidding. It worked, just like magic every time. I don’t know why I bothered with the Key of Solomon, I had all the magic tricks I needed up my sleeve.

He looked at me blankly, and claimed the videos did not ring a bell. I insisted, even supplying the girl’s name, Akasha. He then  swore blind he had never heard that name before. Likewise, he denied watching the Goetia video.  For a second, I couldn’t decide who was going mad, or whether it was all down to this guy’s memory. He was always losing things—keys, exercise books, worksheets, student documents and teacher planners.

Undeterred, I  pestered him some more.  His patience was evaporating quickly,  but in one last attempt to get rid of me, he called up  his  YOUTUBE history and playlists. We checked it very carefully.

Nothing—they just were not there. Akasha had simply vanished. Had he deleted them, or was I going nuts?

With beads of sweat forming on his forehead, he ushered me out of the room, and rushed down the corridor to get a cup of coffee from the staff room. It was probably about his tenth of the day. Why did he need so much?  Perhaps it was to help with his memory.

Meanwhile, I was left alone with my thoughts.

In one of those thoughts, getting those sessions with the school psychologist started to look good.  Perhaps I could drop a few hints, instead of asking my staff directly.

‘Embarrassment is a villain to be crushed,’ 

Was my motto. Well, one of them anyway. This one had cost me £7. I had learned it from that book I borrowed. 

But then a most peculiar thing happened.

I bumped into the yoga teacher. She had just arrived for her  yoga classes.  Having seen me week before, she asked me if I wanted to re-join the group. I made some pathetic excuses, claiming I was too busy (it’s a great excuse for getting out of things, isn’t it?). Then she said, “Well, I expect you are busy with all those books you are reading.”

“What books?” I asked, startled.

“Those books I saw you pick up from the table.”