on the Saturday.
But what happened after that no one could have imagined—not even
me, and, trust me, I have a pretty good imagination.
CHAPTER 6
Dial S for Steiner
We arrived back at school around 2:45pm. In the end, I only spent a
couple of hundred—two new playstation games, a couple of DVD’s
and some clothes. I actually don’t like shopping.
That’s not quite true, because I really do like shopping.
I would look forward to it, but once in a shop, I could never make
up my mind. I would get fustered and then angry. I always relied on
my mother or staff to help me choose my clothes. Denise from school
came with me, but I squandered the time in indecision and her shift
ended at 3pm. (I am an expert at dawdling, dragging my heals and
time-wasting. Of course, when others don’t perform to my schedule, I
quickly loose my tempter.)
Scott arrived for his shift at school the same time as us. (He was al-
ways 15 minutes early.) I showed him the spoils of my adventure.
Denise rolled her eyes and Scott gave her a knowing look. Yes, he had
been shopping with me before.
We barely strolled through the door, before some of the boys clam-
oured around to see what I had bought. It was just the same gear as
they were wearing. They were just checking to make sure I hadn’t got
anything more expensive than they had.
The kitchen phone rang. I barely heard it ring through the commo-
tion of the boys rifing through my bags, but I heard Staff Member
Laura shout through to the hallway,
“Scott, that’s a David Noble on the phone. He says wants to talk to
Steiner about the snooker.”
“Eh, whit’s that all aboot?” Scott shouted back.
“I dunno, but he says he’s in the village just now, like, and he wants a
18
Dial S For Steiner 19
wee chat wi’ Steiner.”
“Well, I tell you now, I’m not giving him the cash back,” I said in a
high-pitched, shallow voice. Not even my famous ‘Stubborn Head’
act could mask my growing anxiety. I had already spent almost half
of it and intended to spend the rest.
“I’ll take it,” Scott announced not fooled by my act. “And don’t you
worry Steiner, Son. You won that cash fair and square, like.”
In the hallway, almost frozen to the spot, I tried to catch the gist of
the conversation. All I could make out, though, were a few “Uh, hu’s,”
and “Mm, mm’s.”
Then Scott called me through to the kitchen.
“Right, listen Steiner. He’s in the village the now, like, and he says he’s
no wantin’ the cash back. He says he’s wantin’ to make you a proposi-
tion.”
“A proposition—what’s that?”
“An offer ... a deal ... about snooker. He says he can teach you how to
become a champ.”
CHAPTER 7
The Boy-Noble Strikes Back
Denise extended her shift to cover for Scott. Without further ado, we
headed into the village, to the Aberdour Hotel.
Aberdour is a great little village, with a fantastic beach. Every year it
attracts thousands of visitors from home and abroad. The problem ist
once in Aberdour, there’s not exactly a lot of amenities on offer. The
Hotel was pretty much the only place we could meet. True, there are
some coffee shops, but they are all so small that everyone can hear
your business. Most of them have bizarre and irregular opening times.
The History teacher joked a couple of times and said that Aberdour
reminded her of the village in The Wickerman (the ‘original flm’, she
always added, not the ‘terrible remake’). To this day, I have never
seen the original nor the terrible remake; so, I don’t know what she
was getting at.
Dave Noble was sat in a corner table, tapping something on his phone,
as if his life depended on it. Ten seconds passed before he acknowl-
edged our presence.
We sat down and David Noble started some small talk to put us at ease.
The Clint Eastwood act had been dropped, along with the spangley
waistcoat. In its place was a grey, v-necked sweater, and an unassum-
ing, rational man. David Noble was clearly a man of many faces. He
seemed a bit podgy in his sweater— the waistcoat obviously doubled
as body shaper. His attention strayed from time-to-time, as he looked
at his phone, expecting a life changing text at any second.
It never came.
Now, bear with me, Reader. There’s a bit of speech coming up. I could
have shortened it, but it is so important to the story that I will repeat
the most of it.
20
The Boy-Noble Strikes Back 21
“Look!” he said. “I’ve never been beaten like that before, and I’ve
played some top boys in my time. I Think you’ve got what it takes to
be a champ.”
“What do you mean champ?” I asked bewildered.
“I mean World Champ.”
“What Steiner? World Champ?” Scott barked out, almost choking on
his coffee as he did. “Obviously he’s got a bit of form at the moment,
like, but … are you havin’ a laugh? He’s no played in any proper
competitions.”
“You need to believe in the boy,” David went on. “Scotland’s always
produced great champions and he’s going to be one of them. Yes, sure,
were rubbish at team sports. No one’s felt good about football since
1978, and the rugby team’s got more wooden spoons than Ma Broon’s
Kitchen. We can’t even win at curling anymore. But as individuals
we’re great. David Wilkie …”
“Aye, I suppose,” Scott said to himself, his mind’s eye reeling of the
Scottish list of honour.
“… Jackie Stewart, Archie Gemmill, Alan Wells, Jockie Wilson and
let’s not forget about the most important of all—Stephen Hendry!”
“Andrew Murray?” I added feeling clever about my contribution.
Silence.
“So, listen … I’m wanting to coach and train the boy—become his
manager, so to speak. With my help the boy could become the youngest
World Champ ever.”
“Younger than Hendry?” Scott asked, doubtfully.
“Far younger than Hendry.”
“The summer holidays are almost here. We can train him up over the
summer and get him into competition. Get some attention and then go
for one of the big ones.”
“So, what, you’re saying is that me and you can train Steiner in just
22 Steiner and the Hypnotic Cue
a few weeks to be champ?” Scott wasn’t buying it and made ready to
leave.
“Well, more me and someone else rather than you, to be honest,” Da-
vid seeped out, almost apologetically—almost.
“Who’s this someone else?” I asked, saying something at last.
“You might not believe this, but none other than Hendry himself.”
Silence.
“He’s agreed to give up a couple of weeks to help train you. He says
he’d like to give more help, but he’s got to spend time with his family,
now he’s retired.”
Silence.
/>
“We’re old pals. I’ve played a number of games against the boy,” he
added.
Silence … then.
“I don’t remember your name coming up against Hendry at anytime at
all,” Scott added, shifting in his chair.
“True,” he admitted. “I’ve never played in a televised competition,
but I’ve played him in a number of ‘friendly games’.”
“… So, are you in or not?”
“Well, yes … if it’s true,” I replied.
“Let’s have a chat about this, Steiner,” Scott cautioned as he gave me
the look to leave.
“No!” I said. “I think I’ll go for it. Nothing to lose. I’ll be sixteen soon.
I can do what I want.”
“Right,” David concluded. “I’ll get you some new kit and we’ll start
as soon as.”
“What do you mean, new kit?” I gasped.
“You know … cues, etc.—professional grade,” he answered with a
The Boy-Noble Strikes Back 23
puzzled look on his face, as if it was obvious. “You can’t play with that
cue you had. It’s just a cheap and nasty toy. You can’t play with that!”
“Yes, I can.”
“If you’re going to go for this, Steiner,” Scott said, “then you might as
well let the man buy you some decent equipment.”
“NO!” I almost shouted. “I’ll play with this cue or not at all. You know
me Scott, I’m a bit OCD at times.”
Scott didn’t really know this at all, but he had seen my obsessing over
organising and lists; so, he probably guessed it.
But, speculation or not, it didn’t matter. I had got them. I had used the
‘OCD’ buzzword, and no one could argue with a buzzword.
“The tool for the control of reality is the control of words.
If you can control the meaning of words,
you can control the people who must use the words.”
Was another quote we had to copy down in RMPE as our teacher
droned on endlessly about the power or words. I acted bored in that
lesson, but, the truth is, I secretly listened to every word that was said.
The gist was this: in the past, magicians and priests used secret and
sacred words to bend the universe to their will, or failing that just
people. In the modern world, people constantly invent new words,
or manipulate old ones to control the thoughts and actions of others.
This immediately clicked with me, because I had used these tactics, and had
seen others doing likewise.
Next, we explored how everyone was playing the same game. Politi-
cians, scientists, lawyers, activists, educators ….
Then we brainstormed some lists in our books of all the words used
in school. There were plenty: OCD, ADD, ODD, ADHD, APD, BPD,
AFL, PBSU, CAPD, GATE, Tourettes, dyslexia, dyspraxia, dyscalcu-
lia, ….
“New Words for Old Things.”
24 Steiner and the Hypnotic Cue
One boy shouted out. It was his way of refecting back the teacher’s
learning intent. To acknowledge his genius, the teacher promised the
student he could display it on the wall as a slogan.
During the lesson summary, we worked out that despite the variety of
words and the range of groups using them, the intention was always
the same: to control others, especially adults.
As a class, we summarised it, and the teacher wrote it on the board:
‘Block them in their thinking;
Bend them to our will;
Blind them to our behaviour.’
Another boy asked to make that into a slogan, but was knocked back.
The excuse: it could be misunderstood by those of ‘Lower Cognitive
Ability’. (LCA–oh yes, another buzzword.) Words, he said, are also
used to educate, enlighten and edify.
Boring!
I liked the manipulation part better, because as students, it meant we
could act without consequence and get what we wanted. The same
with politicians, I guess.
Anyway, back to the story. True to form, the word worked its charm.
“I guess the lad’s got a point,” Scott said resignedly.
“Well, if your a bit fxated, just keep it then, Steiner. We can sort it out
later.”
Over the next few weeks there would be many things sorted out, over
lots of phone calls. David Noble was a genius at organising things. I
admired that a lot.
But in the meantime, I cast my gaze outside. Directly opposite the
hotel stood the witch’s shop.
CHAPTER 8
The Witch’s Shoppe
We said goodbye to David Noble. One quick excuse to Scott, about
wanting to buy chocolate and juice from the newsagents, saw us part-
ing company at the shop. Being pushed for time, he raced back to
school to let Denise go home.
This was exactly what I had counted on. I am so clever sometimes.
Out of sight, I crossed the road and meandered back towards Green
Witch & Mystic Moments, as the witch’s shop is called.
Here I was at last. This scenario had played out many times in my
mind; imagination had become reality. I hesitated and pretending I
was interested in the artefacts, gazed blankly into the window display.
The couple in the shop left while I was looking in. It was empty.
Time to consult the expert. I mustered up the courage, and walked
inside.
Just as I entered the shop, the witch left, and went through the back,
leaving a young girl at the counter. She wasn’t much older than me.
The girl had dyed black hair. I could tell it was dyed because she had
ginger roots poking through; she had a few piercings in her face and
ears, and wore a black T-shirt and black jeans. Even her boots were
black. The T-shirt had an Eye of Horus on it and the word ILLUMI-
NATI emblazoned underneath. In class, we had learned that the Eye
is actually called a Widjut, after the Egyptian snake goddess (Ha! I
bet she didn’t know that), and we also learned the Modern Illuminati
were an imaginary group. How could an ‘expert’ believe in the Illu-
minati? It was made illegal as far back as 1777, and once something
is made illegal, it ceases to exist. Doesn’t it?
So when she asked if she could help me, I said I wanted The Witch.
25
26 Steiner and the Hypnotic Cue
“But I’m a witch too, you know,” she protested. “I can cast spells; read
the Tarot; do psychic predictions; heal; I’m in the biggest coven in
Dunfermline.”
No chance!
I was here to talk to the Expert; so, I repeated that I wanted to talk
to The Witch.
“Ok.,” she conceded. Turning around, she shouted into the back shop.
“Chris! There’s a boy here says he needs to talk to you.”
On the back of her T-shirt was the sign of the Freemasons: a com-
pass, a set-square with a big G in the middle. G.A.O.T.U. was written
underneath, and underneath that, Jahbulon. We had learned a little
about Masons in RMPE, because their symbols appeared in loads
of music videos and flms. In case you don’t know about them, they
referee all the football matches in Scotland. No matter how hard you
try, Masons will not shut-up about
some guy called Hiram Abiff, who
had a friend called Tubal Cain. Apparently, Tubal spoke with a lisp
termed a Shibboleth. Huh? What’s so special about that? My old Sci-
ence Teacher spoke with a lisp, but no one wanted to make a video
about him. So, why would every pop-star make music videos about
Freemasons?
Chris reentered the shop. She looked nothing like the girl, or like
witches you see in flms. She had bobbed, ‘blonde’ hair, and was
dressed just like a teacher.
“How can I help? … You’re from The School, aren’t you?”
She talked just like a teacher too.
“Yes,” I replied. “I need to talk to you.”
“Alright … I’m a bit busy … em … but ok.” For a second I thought
she was going to give me the old ‘brush off’ after using the dreaded
‘busy’ word.
She pointed to the two chairs she has in the main shop area and we
The Witch’s Shoppe 27
sat down. She asked the ‘Illuminati’ girl to put the closed sign in the
window. The girl locked the door, put up the sign and got on with her
business.
“I can see that something is troubling you—a personal problem per-
haps. It might even have something to do with magic,” she said calmly.
“How do you know that?”
“I know many things, but it’s better if you tell me in your own words,
eh … what’s your name.”
“Steiner.”
“Steiner … right … well, nice to meet you my name is Christine, but
you can call me Chris. Do they call you Stein?
“No, they call me Steiner.”
“Alright, then … tell me your story, Steiner!”
I told her everything that had happened.
When I fnished, she said, “So, Steiner you’re worried about whether
it’s your imagination and if something bad happening to you. I think
you are also worried about losing that pool cue.”
“Yes, that’s it. But also, lots of good things have happened. Everything
I have wished for seems to have come true. I got money and every-
thing.”
“That’s great! It seems like you performed the ceremony correctly, or
correctly enough for the Magic to work. Not every part of a spell has
to be perfect, you know. The books vanished because you wished it.
The teacher’s memory failed because you wanted your magic to be
secret from those who don’t understand.”
“Are you sure? Well I hope it’s like that. I certainly don’t want anyone
to know, but ...” I paused
“What is it, Steiner?”
28 Steiner and the Hypnotic Cue
Well, in RMPE we heard it said that you can get bad karma through
witchcraft. The teacher said that Christians believe God will send you
to Hell for doing magic.”
“Oh, that’s just nonsense. As long as you use magic for good … you’re
not putting curses on anyone are you?”
“No, No! I would never do that.”
“Good, and don’t use Magic to put curses on people. It will come back