It was easy for Sooty. All he had to do was wave his magic wand while Harry Corbett recited the words: \u201cIzzy wizzy, let\u2019s get busy\u201d. All kinds of shit would happen. A rabbit would pop out of a hat. An empty glass would fill up with lemonade. A brick would turn into a cream cake. Sweep would turn into Sue. It was all down to some trickery beneath the counter, but I loved it when I was four years-old, chuckled until I was seven or eight, and pretended through adolescent drinking binges that Sooty was an evil genius plotting to take over the world.<\/p>\n
I wish it was that easy for me. Fifty years later and two, or is it three more people sticking their hands up Sooty\u2019s arse, and I\u2019m face down in a bucketful of aggro. Trouble at work, undermined by Slimeball who\u2019s cosy with the managing director. Grief from the Ex, who won a court order that I should sell the house and give her, and her soon to be new husband, half of the money. A wannabe DJ across the road who plays crap music at maximum volume. And the bunch of muppets I\u2019ve supported since childhood heading for relegation. I wish I could just wave a wand, say \u201cIzzy wizzy\u201d and make it all go away.<\/p>\n
Not that I\u2019m thinking about that as I enter the charity shop. It was one of the scarves in the window that drew me in, a nice piece of coloured silk that might only cost a quid or two, but then I noticed the battered old box with the magic set. I open it to find bits missing, but there is a dog eared leaflet of instructions for tricks, a couple of plastic rings, small coloured balls, and a round black stick with a white tip. I pay the two pounds thinking of it as therapy, a magic wand to pretend for a moment that I have Sooty\u2019s power to make things easy. When I get home I glance at the leaflet, look at the rings and balls for ten seconds, then dump them with the box and leave the wand on the coffee table. Then comes a phone call, the Ex\u2019s solicitor and the question they\u2019ve asked twice already. \u201cIs the house on the market?\u201d I lie: \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
A few nights later Sooty comes to me in a dream. He\u2019s silent \u2013 always needed Harry, or Matthew or whoever to speak for him \u2013 but he moves towards me, eyes fixed on mine and paws around his magic wand, holding it across his chest. Then he places it before me and nods. My mind wriggles for a moment, wanting to understand, then realises it\u2019s a dream and slips back into sleep.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s strong enough for me to remember the next morning, and into the following day as I sit watching my team on TV. Fourth round of the FA Cup, live on BBC, two-one down on eighty-nine minutes and struggling to get the ball. I admit defeat, decide to console myself with a private joke and pick up the magic wand. \u201cTwo goals in two minutes \u2026. Izzy wizzy, let\u2019s get busy.\u201d Thirty seconds later there\u2019s a tackle in midfield, a long pass to the right, a couple of clever jinks, a cross to our striker\u2019s head and the ball\u2019s in the corner of the net. They\u2019ve nicked a replay. Then another minute, another tackle, a long ball that splits two defenders and sets the same striker clear for a low shot into the other corner. 2-1. I watch guys in blue shirts dive into an ecstatic pile and think \u201cBugger me!\u201d<\/p>\n
It’s an amusing coincidence. Over the following days I\u2019m pissed off at work by Slimeball, as he makes smartarse remarks about colleagues and nicks another slice of my budget through a sneaky word with the MD. The Ex calls, asking again if I\u2019ve placed the house on the market. I lie that the estate agent is coming to view on Friday evening. And the neighbour\u2019s playing the soundtrack for a prison riot. I fall asleep on the Friday thinking that the world\u2019s full of bastards, and find Sooty waiting for me. Again he looks me over, approaches, places the wand before me and nods. I remember when I wake up and wonder if I\u2019d drunk too much.<\/p>\n
By lunchtime the neighbour is winding me up again. House, garage, basement; I don\u2019t know what it is but it makes a misery of lunch and dinner. The wand is on the kitchen table \u2013 I can\u2019t remember placing it there \u2013 but I pick it up and think a wistful thought out loud: \u201cShut that bastard up.\u201d Then I wave the wand. \u201cIzzy wizzy, let\u2019s get busy.\u201d I forget about it, ignore the voicemails from the Ex, wind myself up with thoughts of Slimeball and turn up the TV to drown out the music.<\/p>\n
Late afternoon I go to the bathroom, return to thinking the TV sounds louder and realise the music from across the road has been replaced by whinging voices. I look through the window and see a handful of big men, all cropped hair and dark uniforms, carrying a sofa, a 60-inch TV and a fridge freezer towards a lorry. I read the sign on its side: something, something BAILIFFS. Then I see more men carrying turntable decks, a laptop and four big speakers across the road. The neighbour is pleading and his girlfriend is crying, but I can see the bailiffs are all avoiding eye contact. I have to stop myself from punching the air and back away from the window before I\u2019m seen. GET IN THERE!<\/p>\n
I spend a contented evening watching TV and telling myself that if the neighbour is in debt he probably can\u2019t pay the rent either, which means he\u2019ll soon be gone. I remember the magic wand, smile at the idea that it worked, then tell myself not to be so daft. Coincidence.<\/p>\n
But a few days later I dream of Sooty again: the look, the wand, the nod. I wake up, spend breakfast thinking over the dream, and can\u2019t help taking the wand to work. It\u2019s mid-morning when Slimeball walks over to my desk with a smug grin on his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI read your report,\u201d he says. \u201cGlad to see there are only three split infinitives this time.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell take three of these,\u201d I say. \u201cFuck off, fuck off, fuck off.\u201d<\/p>\n
He walks away still grinning. A couple of colleagues give me those looks, sympathetic but warning that I\u2019m stoking up trouble for myself. I decide that at least I might get a laugh from the situation. I take the magic wand from my bag.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright folks.\u201d I speak at a level that only those close to me can hear. \u201cLet\u2019s cast a spell. Please let Slimeball fuck up and get sacked. Izzy wizzy, let\u2019s get busy.\u201d<\/p>\n
It gets a laugh and someone asks if I can pull a rabbit from a hat. I manage to concentrate on work, until late afternoon when the MD appears and leads Slimeball towards one of the conference rooms, and we all notice that the HR manager follows. Five minutes later a security man appears, and two minutes after that Slimeball is escorted back to his desk with a cardboard box. He says nothing, fills the box and leaves the building. Ten minutes later we get the email including the words \u201cinappropriate behaviour\u201d and \u201cdismissed\u201d. At the end of the day the need for gossip takes a bunch of us, including the guy who worked most closely with Slimeball, to the pub. It seems he had made a sexist crack about the MD\u2019s wife in the kitchen, not knowing he was by the door. Crash and burn. Nobody seems sad to see the back of him, and one mentions my words with the magic wand. I laugh it off, saying it was a coincidence, while thinking to myself: \u201cOh fuck! It really works!\u201d<\/p>\n
I get home to a letter from the Ex\u2019s lawyer. It translates into \u201cSell the house or else!\u201d That\u2019s after I had spent sixteen years paying off most of the mortgage. After she had spent almost as long moaning that I didn\u2019t earn half as much as her sister\u2019s husband. After she had left me for a bloke from her pilates class. Why should I put up with that any longer? I take the magic wand from my bag, place it on the kitchen table, and decide on the next spell. \u201cMake her die … quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n
Two weeks pass and I can\u2019t find Sooty in my dreams. There are days when I pick up the magic wand and give it a wave but always stop short of saying the words. It needs Sooty to come to me first. Then I receive the letter from the divorce court: if I don\u2019t provide proof that the house is on the market within a week I\u2019ll be in contempt, threatened by a fine, even a couple of weeks behind bars. Her again. I pray, not to God but Sooty, to come to me \u2026 that night \u2026 please.<\/p>\n
Once in bed I toss and turn, look at the clock every twenty minutes, and around four-thirty give up on sleeping for the night. And that\u2019s when I fall asleep, and finally Sooty appears. I smile, feeling pleased to see him. He stares at me. I wait for him to give me the wand but he\u2019s still, as if in thought, picking over the events that had brought us together. I speak his name. He doesn\u2019t answer. I hold out my hand. He squeezes the wand a little closer to his chest. I move towards him. He backs away. I plead gently.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease Sooty.\u201d<\/p>\n
I extend my hand but he backs off further. I don\u2019t get it.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on Sooty,\u201d I say. \u201cI have to get free of that bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n
He gives one shake of his head, then waves the wand. Now I hear a quiet male voice in a soft northern accent.<\/p>\n
\u201cIzzy wizzy, let\u2019s get busy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then I\u2019m awake, but not in a darkened bedroom. I look up at a strip light and a white ceiling. Two faces take shape – a black guy with dreadlocks, a white man with grimy teeth \u2013 both perched on white tunics. Dreadlocks looks familiar; I\u2019m not sure. Same for the woman in a white coat who comes into view.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you feel?\u201d she asks.<\/p>\n
\u201cWuh!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve been very restless.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to Sooty?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t know,\u201d says Dreadlocks. \u201cYou kept calling his name.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiles, just short of a laugh. I move my arms and wriggle a little, realising there are leather straps hanging at my side. I remember the wand, the magic words, saving me from the grief that had been spoiling my life. Except for the Ex.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not finished,\u201d I say. \u201cOne more.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you mean that \u2026 What was it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grimy Teeth grins.<\/p>\n
\u201cIzzy Wizzy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne more!\u201d I shout. \u201cI\u2019ve just got to get that bitch!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease!\u201d<\/p>\n
The doctor takes my arm and the two men press my shoulders to the bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer again?\u201d says Dreadlocks. \u201cYou wanna let that go man. It\u2019s got you into enough trouble already.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is she?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSafe, well out of your way.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I didn\u2019t get the chance.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment I\u2019m quiet, trying to make sense of it all, but Sooty takes over, waving his magic wand.<\/p>\n
\u201cSooooty! What have you fucking done to me!\u201d<\/p>\n
I push myself upwards, free of the two men for seconds, try to jump up but feel their arms wrap around mine, their weight flattening me on the bed. Then the leather straps are whipped and tightened over my chest, thighs and shins. I\u2019m powerless, tortured, angry.<\/p>\n
\u201cSooooty! You bastard!\u201d<\/p>\n
They back away from me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWoh!\u201d says Dreadlocks. \u201cHas he really woken up?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s the nature of his psychosis,\u201d says the doctor. \u201cNo line between dreams and reality.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPsychosis? Not me. Never. I\u2019ve been stitched up by a glove puppet with a magic wand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you going to sedate him again,\u201d asks Grimy Teeth.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d says the doctor. \u201cHe\u2019s had enough of that. He needs to stay conscious.\u201d<\/p>\n
I strain against the straps for one, two, ten minutes, cursing and crying, then let it go. I flop backwards, close my eyes, and try to unravel the mess in my brain. But all that falls out is the memory of Sooty waving his wand and those words.<\/p>\n
\u201cIzzy wizzy, let\u2019s get busy.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"