The Spell by Arthur Gordon

Page 1 (Introduction to Literature)
The Spell by Arthur Gordon

Excuse me, sir, I see that you are smoking – could you possibly spare a cigarette? We are not allowed to have them here. A wise rule, no doubt, in the majority of cases. Lunatics should never be trusted with fire.

But believe me, sir, I don’t belong in this place with all these crazy people. Really, I don’t! I’m as sane as anyone, as sane as you are. But there you sit in your parked car, free to come and go as you please. And here am I behind these bars…


Oh, please don’t go away! Don’t drive off just because I am talking to you. I won’t cause you any embarrassment. Not the slightest. I won’t even ask you again for a cigarette.

I suppose you’re waiting for someone. Your wife? A friend, perhaps? One of the doctors who work here in the asylum? It doesn’t matter. If I see anyone coming, I’ll stop talking. I’ll go away from the window. But until then, please stay. You don’t know what it means to be able to talk to somebody on the outside. Somebody who will listen, somebody who might even believe…

No, that’s too much to expect, of course. But tell me, sir, do I sound like a madman? My mind is as good as it ever was; truly, it is. I can solve a problem in trigonometry for you or recite one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. But when I try to tell the truth, they won’t believe me.

Sir, you’re a gentleman, that’s obvious. You have the sympathy and the tolerance, the willingness to hear a man out. I can recognize those qualities for a very good reason. You see, I’m a gentleman myself.

Oh, you wouldn’t think so from looking at me, I know. And you wouldn’t think so if you read my medical file. It says that I am David Greenlea, merchant seaman, a hopeless paranoiac suffering from insane delusions. But, sir, I swear to you I’m not David Greenlea and I’m not insane!

Page 2 (Introduction to Literature)

Let me tell you, sir, just how it happened. And let me beg of you not to judge me by the way I look. This broken nose, these gnarled hands – they’re not mine, I tell you, they’re not mine! They belong to David Greenlea, that’s true. But I’m not David Greenlea, I’m not. I’m not.

I’m Edgar Greenlea, vice-president of the Overseas Shipping Company, with a house on Edgewater Drive and a wife and two fine children… oh, you must believe me!

But wait. I’m going too fast. I can see the disbelief in your eyes. And the pity. Yes, the pity. I don’t blame you, sir, really I don’t. But hear me out. I beg of you. I will only take a minute or two. And it will cost you nothing. Just a cigarette, perhaps, if you’re so inclined.

It happened almost a year ago. I was in my office, as usual. I was in my own body, too, not this tattooed monstrosity that you’re looking at. Oh, I know that does sound insane, but let me explain, please! Just listen…

One of our ships, the Eastern Star, had docked only that morning. About noon they brought me word that David Greenlea had come ashore, was drinking himself blind in a water-front tavern. David Greenlea, my first cousin, a wretched ne’er-do-well, always drunk or fighting, always in trouble. I had got him his berth on the Eastern Star. Without my influence he would have lost it a dozen times. But there was no gratitude on his part, sir. None at all. Indeed, he hated me because I was successful, respected, everything he wanted to be – and was not.

Malevolent as he was, I felt responsible for him as a member of the family. And so I went down to that tavern. I found him, drunk and disgusting. I took him into a backroom and ordered coffee. We were alone there…

Sir, could you possibly let me have a cigarette? Look, I’ll stretch my arm through the bars as far as it will go. If you could just put one in my fingers, I’d be so grateful. Really, you don’t know how agonizing it is to watch another man smoke when you… oh, thank you, sir, you are most kind!


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So I made David drink the coffee. I got him fairly sober, but he kept reviling me. He accused me of secretly loathing him, despising him. I said that I didn’t despise him, I only pitied him. When I said that, he gave me a strange look, half drunken and half cunning. Then he smiled. I tell you, sir, I have seen that smile a thousand times since in my dreams.

“Let me show you a trick, Cousin Edgar”, he said, “a trick I learned from a singsong girl in Hong Kong. A little magic, black or white, depending on where you sit.”

He took something out of his pocket and put it on the table, and I saw that if was a cone of cheap incense. “First there must be pity”, he said, smiling that evil smile, “if the spell is to work. Then there must be a burnt offering, and finally there must be the words.”
I thought he was raving, but I decided to humor him So I … pardon me, sir, could a trouble you for a light? You needn’t give me a match, just hold the flame where I can reach it with the tip of the cigarette. Thank you, sir. Ah, that’s good…

So I said tomy cousin David, “What words?”

He had the incense lighted now, and the smoke was rising. He looked at me through it, just as I am looking at you. The he said the words. Come closer. I’ll whisper them to you. Just a little closer. There!

It works! It works! the ancient and terrible gods, the spell still works! I thought it would, I hoped it would!Oh, I am sorry, sir, to leave you in there.
But I had to get out, I had to! And this was only way. I had to change places with you, don’t you see? I had to exchange bodieswith you, just the way David did with me!

Oh, please don’t scream like that and शकेthe bars. The attendants will come and put you in a straitjacket. Because to them you’ll just be David Greenlea, merchant seaman, hopeless paranoiac. And no matter what you say, they don’t believe you. You’ll have to bide your time, just as I did. You’ll have to wait until someone pities you, and then there must be a burnt offering, remember, and the words. Don’t forget the words.


Page 4 (Introduction to Literature)

Now I must be going, for I have much to do. Ah,yes, much to do. My cousin David will not be expecting me, not looking like this. What a surprise for David!

I’ll take your car, sir, because you won’t be needing it any more.Thank you for everything, especially the burnt offering – I mean, the cigarette. Good-by,sir, Good-by.