A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—— ee “few stories about the mirror magic of the Riff women, who believe that at certain times and under certain conditions they : can catch the reflections of those they love or hate in their mirrors and so have power thereafter over their souls. The City News man said that if he could get the Riff women to teach him that trick, he could lift all the mirror- makers in America to riches. The other two morosely agreed that they knew some editors whose reflections they’d like to catch. I laughed and said it would be easier to bring over a good old-fashioned Bulgarian mason or two. Then all they need do was to get the mason a job, decoy the editor to the place and have the mason measure his shadow with a string. After that, the mason would put the string in a box and build the box in the wall. In forty days the editor would be dead and his soul be sitting in the box beside the string. One of the afternoon men glumly said that forty days would be too long to wait for the. ones he had in mind.. But the others ‘asked, with disarming naiveté, whether I believed such a thing possible, I answered that if a man were strongly enough convinced he would die on a cer- tain day, he would die on that day. Not because his shadow had been measured and the string buried, but because he be- lieved that this was going to kill him. It was purely a matter of suggestion—of autohypnosis. Like the praying to death practiced by the kahunas, the warlocks, of the South Seas, of the results of which there was no doubt whatever. Always providing, of course, that the victim knew the kahuna was praying his death—and the exact time his death was to occur. I ought to have known better. The morning papers carried only a few lines to the effect that I had talked to the po- lice and had been.unable to throw any light on the Ralston suicide. But the early editions of the naive reporter’s paper fea- tured a special article. “Want to get rid of your enemies? Get a Riff gal’s magic mirror—or bring in a Bulgarian mason. Dr. Alan Caranac, noted explorer, tells how to separate your- Self safely from those you don’t want ok the catch is that first you ve to make ’em believe you can do it,” ee a” ee < -— » 7 — a = - ~~ A. MERRITT’S FANTASY 7 ran the story quoting the tale I related. It was a good story, even if it did make me swear in spots. I read it over again and laughed. After all, I’d brought it on myself. The phone rang, and Bill was on | the line. He asked abruptly: “What put it in your head to talk to that reporter about shadows?” He sounded jumpy. I said: “Nothing. Why shouldn’t I have talked to him about shadows?” He didn’t answer for a moment. Then he asked: “Nothing happened to direct your mind to that subject? Nobody suggested it?” “You're getting curiouser and_ curi- ouser, as Alice puts it. But no, Bill, I brought the matter up all by myself, And no shadow fell upon me whispering in my ear—”’ He interrupted, harshly: “Don’t talk like that!” And now I was truly surprised, for there was panic in Bill’s voice. = “There really wasn’t any reason. It just happened,” I repeated. “What’s it all about, Bill?” “Never mind now.” I wondered even more at the relief in his voice. He swiftly | changed the subject: “Dick’s funeral is tomorrow. I’ll see you there.” Now the one thing I won't be coerced or persuaded into doing is to go to the” funeral of a friend. Unless there are inter- | esting and familiar rites connected with it, it’s senseless. I want to remember friends as they were—alive, alert, capable, eager. The coffin picture superimposes itself, and I lose my friends. The animals order things much better, to my\way of think- ing. They hide themselves and die. Bill knew how I felt, so I said: “You'll not see me there.” To shut off any discussion, I asked: “Had any nibble at your witch bait?” “Yes and no. Not the real strike I’m | hoping for, but attention from unexpected quarters. Dick’s lawyers called me up after I’d left you and asked what he had told me about those cash withdrawals. They said they’d been trying to find out — what he had done with the money, but couldn’t. They wouldn’t believe me, of course, when I said I knew absolutely nothing ; that I had only vague suspicions — I don’t — and had tried a shot in the dark. SS een mea 2. wy . ° Pg a