I meet a hypnotist in a crowded restaurant. He is an older man of fifty with salt and pepper hair and an enigmatic, open visage that thinly veils his true identity. He is a schemer, bent on separating skeptic elders from their money. He seems not to care that I know his true mind, but dressed so richly, and surrounded by such lavish potted plants sporting heady blooms, he seems to take on the mystery of his trappings and nothing I could say, he is assured, would deter his . I find he is quite correct in his assumption, but I cannot shake the presence of something else in his pauses that eludes to mischief. True to my spidey-senses I caught him in the act a few hours later as he conducted a strange bit of witchcraft outside in a small trench next to a field. He dug a small pit and tossed in raven feathers, bright, red berries, a silver chain and wrapped the whole thing in a deer pelt before burying it and casting about furtively as I ducked unnoticed behind a shrubbery.
Curious as to his intent, but put off enough by his insidious manner to explore the field beyond, circling wide around the scene of his odd debauchery. Upon entering the field, which required a fair struggle over a stubborn barbed wire fence, I found that my father had caught up with me, and joined me in my adventure. We walked slowly through the field, one of green wheat to rival the most sappy of romantic slow motion run-to’s, the underlying vibe here was decidedly different. My eyes explored the soft, damp earth and I found within just a few minutes, a number of small electronic devices including a vintage video camera as well as a modern digital camera. Looking across to my father I could see he had an armful as well, he met my eyes then looked behind me and his face hardened from a conspiratorial countenance to one of concern. I followed his eyes until mine too rested on the disturbance. The hypnotist was standing completely still amongst the waist-high green, smiling at us with eyes rolled to the back of his head. Slowly, and in complete silence, a mass of old people with white hair and white gowns rose up around him.
They began to dance, then formed a line and marched in a trance towards us. Unnerved past curiosity, I began to fall away from the group, turning my back. One grandfather in particular took issue with me, I had no idea how he knew it, but he began to hobble after me and apart from the group yelling that I had taken what was not mine and that I had to return it at once. My father and I tried to bury our finds in the dirt, but it was too damp and we realized too late that we had ruined everything by shoving the electronics into a muddy hole. Abandoning what we had looted, we backed off to a safe distance until the man ran back to the odd group and they disappeared over the edge of a hill.