He usually had mass hypnosis sessions making people embarrassed. He seemed to enjoy when he made respectful citizens, politicians, military men, or businessmen helpless and especially those who looked down at him helpless. Such people irritated him most of all.
Once during his anniversary performance the Seer asked a man sitting in the first prestigious seats and wearing an expensive suit to go up the stage. This man was eyeing externally non-representative Seer with scorn and grinned: the Seer was short, made fussy and nervous gestures, was always frowning, lame and wore old-fashion spectacles. A man, sitting in the first row, was unlucky to say unceremoniously, “Now, let’s see your tricks.”
The Seer’s eyes burning through flared with anger: most of all he could not stand when people took him for a manipulator, a trickster and did not believe in his abilities. He would never forgive that.
The manager standing near the stage perfectly knew what the Seer could do when he was enraged and literally took his head with his hands. That expensive-looking man was a district prosecutor who was known as a cruel, proud, and influential man. Without doubt, the Seer recognized him. Like a boa constrictor, he looked at the Prosecutor with an unblinking and paralyzing stare and crushed his will. At first, the hypnotist made up the image of a small dog. Fixing it in his head, he conveyed the dog image to the Prosecutor as if placing it image with a mouse click to the head and said firmly and clearly, “You are a dog.”
The Prosecutor’s eyes became meaningless and glazed. A respectful man went limp, became drawn, went down on his knees, stood on all fours and started to sniff something. His wife opened her mouth amazed and stared at the stage with horrified eyes. The Seer took a pen out of his pocket, threw it down, and ordered,
“Take it and bring it to me.”
Even when he was young and was in the service or military courses, the Prosecutor did not fulfill commanders’ orders so high-spiritedly as that one. On all fours, leaning on his knees and palms, he ran up to the pen lying on the floor, carefully fetched it with his teeth and brought to the Seer in the same manner.
“Good dog. Good dog,” he took the pen out of the Prosecutor’s mouth, wiped it fastidiously with his handkerchief and tenderly tousled a new dog at the back of his neck. The Prosecutor had never been happier in all his life as at that time. His eyes were shining and he even tried to lick the Seer’s hand, but the Seer removed it just on time.
The Prosecutor’s wife rushed to the stage.
“Stop this immediately!” she cried out. “I beg you! What are you doing?”
“Lady,” the Seer looked at her wanly, “it is a lesson for your husband.”
The performance was on live and the entire country was laughing at that respected man playing a dog. The prosecutor did not remember anything, but he saw the recording of his shame and could not live with that. It was especially hard after his court claim for harm to his honor and dignity was dismissed. He had
many friends and no one dared take legal action against the Seer. The prosecutor was a burnt card; he shrank into himself, retired. His kids were bullied at school and asked to bark. His wife was looked at scornfully or with sympathy which made the proud woman suffer. Soon the former prosecutor shot himself in his study.
The widow, having wept over her deceased husband, came to the Seer and he met her in cold blood. She jumped up to the host, bunching her fists, but did not dare strike her enemy,
“You have killed my husband! Broken the life of my family! He did not believe in your power! What of it? You have stomped him! And it is not only he who suffered, but our kids who are left without their good and caring father and breadwinner. Has the God bestowed power on you to take your bodily imperfections on successful and beautiful people? No! You do not act from the God! Priests are right in saying that you are a demon and spiteful sorcerer. What right have you had to destroy our world? Oh, if only I could destroy you!”
“The waiting list is too long, I’m afraid, you will have to wait long,” the Seer answered indifferently. “Do you want to hear a reason or have you come to shed your pain?”
“A reason? Can there be a reason?” the widow was indignant.
“There is always a reason, but we sometimes cannot see it. But you haven’t come to learn why; you have come to learn how you are going to live on. Death of your husband is a motive to approach me. Your spouse was a good father but he has never been faithful and do not raise your eyebrows, do not play with me. You must have heard about many broken lives of the people, whom your husband has sent to jail. And do not tell me that they are all criminals; some of them were absolutely innocent. Your husband made severe sentences disproportionate with crimes. Just hear the last one: a young man who was foolish enough to get into the house of a politician, stole some paper in the form of banknotes and several gold trinkets was sentenced to eight years of prison. Eight years!”
The Seer’s eyes flashed. He was silent for some time, then calmed down and spoke on, “your husband, an excellent speaker, convinced judges of the threat of home burglaries and they made a sentence without second thoughts. Eight years of torture, and a spot over the entire short life, and just to please a robbed politician the prosecutor was playing golf with. And the lad had a sick mother and two sisters he had to help. I visited them and I helped them, a spiteful sorcerer. There was almost no food in the house but the mother with tears in her eyes asked me to have tea with stale bread. She kissed my hands begging to help her poor son. She showed me his splendid pictures, touching childish stories written by that talented boy and I knew that every word of the mother was true. Your husband has maimed the whole family but I will correct that and make sure the boy is set free.”
“Do you mean we don’t have to punish criminals?” the guest was sincerely surprised.
“All have violated some laws, if not yours, then the law of equity. Most crimes do not deserve jail. Just do not create conditions for crimes. Go into the question and have a heart. Your husband made his career on criminals who had no money to pay for lawyer services. But I haven’t killed him. You could leave the country, but no, there has been no threat for you here,” the Seer started to nervously pace the room. There was a feeling of a growing danger.
“And what about shame?” the woman was speaking very softly.
“You can live with that. Those, who do not climb high, do not feel pain when they fall,” he recollected an old saying.
“And what about my children?” the widow asked that important question.
The Seer thought for a minute and answered,
“I can’t see anything wrong. You are not going to stay lonely, have no fear, next month you will meet a nice man and forget your hatred in his hands, and without voicing it, you will remember me with gratitude.”
“I will be interviewed by leading newspapers and TV,” she said timidly wanting to hear his opinion.
“Tell them whatever you want, I will forgive you, have no fear. Just do not insult my talent, you cannot judge that. All the best,” and the Seer made a gentlemanly gesture at the door.