In a Time Far Away

In a Time Far Away Part 5

Non-elfish strangers in camp were rare, so­ dozens of curious elves gathered. Joan introduced Tim the wood sprite. Astonished conversations immediately buzzed through the small gathering. Seeing sprites happened occasionally, but nobody had ever survived an encounter with one.

"Joan," said her uncle. "I'm not sure your father will be happy about this. Sprites are unpredictable. They have dangerous magic."

They looked over at Tim who seemed fascinated with the camp. Joan didn't think him dangerous at all, but her experience with Tim could have gone very badly; it had almost turned into a disaster. Could having him in camp be a mistake? But she wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Tim.

"Show us some magic," said one of the elves to the wood spite. Joan and Uncle Ned held their breaths. Would this be the moment Uncle Ned's fears came true? Other elves added their voices in support of seeing a magical display.

Tim looked around at them. "That looks like magic right there," he said, pointing at the wood carver. He hurried over for a closer look. "What are you doing?" Tim asked him.

"I'm making a spoon," the wood smith replied.

"But how?"

Suspecting a trick question or a riddle, the elf answered carefully. "Out of wood."

"Wow," Tim uttered in astonishment. "You can turn wood into a spoon. That's like magic."

Running from one spot to another, Tim expressed equal amazement at the metal smith who could turn iron into swords, and at the cooks who could turn a rabbit and vegetables into stew.

"This place is magic!" yelled Tim.

The elves looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and scratched their heads.

"Are you sure he's a wood sprite?" asked Uncle Ned, his fear dissolving into bewilderment. "He doesn't seem very magical."

"Joan!" exclaimed Tim. "This place is amazing."

Joan wasn't sure what to say. "What we do is not magical. It's just..." she searched for words to explain. "...common... everyday stuff. We use things..."

"Use things," uttered Tim. "Wow."

How could Tim mistake elf handiwork for magic? It did not compare to what a wood sprite could do. Joan wanted the elves to understand what he was capable of, but he was too distracted to focus.

"Tim," she interrupted his excited exclamations about something the candle maker was doing. "Can you show us what you do? How you make things appear?"

He didn't understand why anyone would want to watch him create anything when there were so many amazing marvels to see already. He glanced quizzically at her and shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose," Tim said, pulling out his wand. "What do you want?"

"What a strange stick," said the carpenter.

"It's called a pencil," Tim announced.

"Make an apple pie," chirped an elf boy, unable to contain his enthusiasm. It wasn't the season for apples, but that never stopped a child from wanting apple pie. The youngster held out his hands, imagining the pie in his mind. Tim waved sparks from the wand, and a pie appeared in the boy's hands. Cheers erupted, and the children scrambled after the young elf with his prize.

"Can you make a wood spoon?" asked the carver.

Tim waved the wand and spoons piled up on the carver's bench and spilled onto the ground. When the metal smith asked him to make a sword, Tim waved his wand and a sword appeared in the smith's arms. As the elf admired the gleaming blade, another appeared and then three dozen more until he was buried under a mound of sharpened steel.

"Ouch," said the metal smith.