[ WP ] A kid doodling in a math class accidentally creates the world 's first functional magic circle in centuries .

Once upon a time magic was an art. The great magicians of the time would take on apprentices who would train for a decade or more, slaving under their tutelage for the hope of one day being the next great magician. They were free from the bonds of apprenticeship only once they had made the perfect magic circle. Only then could they harness the power of the mages and go off on their own. But times changed, magicians were persecuted, and few longed to toil away for the long years of study necessary. In the course of a century, magic became extinct. 
 
 Until Lucy, age 4, brought it back into the world. Lucy was neither particularly bright nor particularly artistic. But Lucy LOVED to draw circles. And the perfect magic circle was not a perfect circle. It wasn ’ t even a circle, technically. The loops and lines involved were complex, which is why it took so long to learn how to make one. 
 
 They say that, given a typewriter and enough time, a monkey could write Shakespeare on accident, just from randomly hitting the keys. I scoffed at this idea until my preschool classroom was transported from dreary, gray Seattle to sub-Saharan Africa. 
 
 How did I know it was Lucy ’ s fault? How does a mother know which of her children broke her favorite lamp? It ’ s always the quiet ones that you have to worry about. When we heard the roar of a lion instead of the piercing tone of the recess bell, Lucy was the only one who stayed at her desk. Have you ever seen a four-year-old? Four-year-olds do not sit at desks. They stand at desks and work, flinging color around, and occasionally hitting the paper. They wiggle. They hum. They never sit quietly. Unless they ’ ve done something wrong and are playing the part of a good student. 
 
 Do I sound calm about this? Preschool is a war zone. If Timmy hasn ’ t peed his pants yet today and Jordan hasn ’ t punched someone, it must only be 9:30. Rachel eats glue if you don ’ t watch her closely enough, but I have 30 kids, what do you honestly expect me to do? Seeing a lion outside my classroom should scare me, I know that deep inside me. But what goes on outside my classroom if all of my kids are inside… 
 
 Oh. Shit. 
 
 I run to the window, remembering that I let Jaquin take the bathroom pass and if there really is a lion ouside the window and Jaquin took the long way to the bathroom, going outside and picking a few flowers like Jaquin always does, then that lion could very seriously have just eaten poor Jaquin and of course it was the only black kid. I ’ m going to get sued for only caring about the white kids. Oh my God, poor Jaquin, I could just imagine his cute little body torn open, his insides gone and only his gap-toothed, smiling face left to show me just how big of a failure I was. 
 
 “ Go back to your seats, class, ” I said calmly as I approached the window, hoping none of them had seen Jaquin ’ s mangled body, “ it will be our turn to see the lion later. ” A promise I couldn ’ t keep. I was stalling. Never make a promise to a four-year-old that you can ’ t keep. They will never forget and they will never trust you again. They will forever remember about the time I lied about the lion. 
 
 “ But I want to see big kitty now! ” Jordan screamed, taking off towards the door that led out to the courtyard. 
 
 “ JORDAN STOP RIGHT NOW! ” I had nothing to do, I raced after him but he was only three feet from the door to start with and I was across the room and had 27 kids to trip over between me and him. 
 
 “ YOU CAN ’ T MAKE ME! ” he yelled back. I wasn ’ t going to make it. 
 
 Dear God, please let the lion kill me quickly. And then be so full he can ’ t eat the children. Maybe they can escape. Or the lion can take pity on them and raise them as his own. Is it only wolves that will do that? And will they only raise infants? 
 
 Jordan opened the door and ran outside. I heard one of the kids giggle. I was just a step behind him, perhaps I could push him out of the way and let the lion devour me instead. 
 
 “ Big kitty? BIG KITTY!!! ” Jordan was screaming. I could hear the children through the door that I had left open. The lion would eat them all. I caught Jordan at last, grabbed him by the arm ( something else I would get sued for ) and pulled him in close, wrapping my body around him and facing away from the lion at the classroom window, awaiting the blow that would end my life. 
 
 It never came. I waited. 
 
 “ You ’ re crushing me, ” Jordan whined in my arms. 
 
 “ Ms. C? ” I heard another Margaret ’ s voice. Margaret was out here too. I opened my eyes and saw her curly red-hair and freckled face. 
 
 “ Go inside and close the door, ” I said forcefully. Maybe I could save the others. Although the lion didn ’ t seem very hungry. He still hadn ’ t attacked me. Maybe Joaquin had been enough. 
 
 “ Ok Ms. C, ” she said meekly. Sweet, chubbly, little Margaret would save my class, “ but it ’ s recess time, ” she added, closing the door behind her. 
 
 I looked around. Some of my kids still had their faces pressed against the window, but they were looking at me and Jordan. I turned around carefully, but I didn ’ t see a lion anywhere. I saw the normal courtyard of our normal school where I spent every day of my life with my preschool class. I relaxed, and let Jordan go. I stretched a little, to ease the tension building in my shoulders. I had hallucinated a lion today. Tonight: less wine, more sleep I promised myself. 
 
 “ Where big kitty go? ” Jordan asked me angrily, as though this was a trick I had played especially on him. 
 
 Ok, my whole class had hallucinated a lion. And I swear the view from my classroom had been Africa. Our school grass wasn ’ t nearly that long. Or brown. And our sun wasn ’ t that bright. 
 
 “ Let ’ s get the class ready for recess, ” I sighed, looking up at the familiar, cloudy Seattle sky. At least it was raining now, the kids need to go to recess. I need them to go to recess. 
 
 I looked back down and watched my classroom disappear. 

