47

“What kind of question is that, boy? Jesus!” The neighbour reproached the lad then, looking at him, wondering what sort of sick mind he had. Until he recalled the very reason the boy had plucked up the courage to come to his antechamber in the first place - “why would you ask me that?”

“Well,” he huffed uncomfortably. He stood up then, as though he too needed a lectern to deliver the message. “Well,” he didn’t want to say why he’d asked, saying made it so. The neighbours' eyes were glistening in a way they hadn’t before. “Well -”

“Go on, lad, out with it,” said the man, looking him steadily in the eye for the first time.

“Well, that’s how we found my Dad, you see, and -”. He was out of breath now; he could feel his blood rushing out from his heart and into his hands, down into his legs. His chest was emptying again. The neighbour was veiling his pleasure poorly. Calum suddenly had a desire to run north. Far north. As far as, as far as wherever it is that the sun never sets in summer. They call it the midnight sun.

Much later, his remaining words arrived - “and, it’s not normal, sir, to be found like that.”

“It certainly isn’t.”

“I should really be going, but thank you for your help, sir, very insightful, sir.”

Calum’s etiquette was embedded so deeply that he couldn’t withdraw his outstretched hand as it moved away ahead of him towards the neighbour. The boy was tall for his age, and as he approached, he peered at the case that sat atop the lectern, which was like a half-pillar. It reminded him of the type of thing you might see propping up a bird bath in Mrs Careen’s garden. The case was beautiful, oak perhaps, gold etchings on the corners. The lid was open, and the glass lay hanging over the back of the lectern. He watched the man stop running his narrow fingers over the bezels, lugs and clasps of the eight beautiful watches and stretch out his hand in kind. Calum didn’t notice; he was taken in by the stunning watch nearest him. It struck him in its perfect simplicity. The strap was rich, dark leather - he could smell it - even as it contended with the rest of the house's aromas, trying desperately to penetrate the four walls of the antechamber. The face was ivory, and the dials in the lower segment of the watch showed something he couldn’t quite make out; he chose to assume it was lunar cycles, like the watch his Dad wore. Part of the face was open, and Calum could see a portion of the mechanism at work, silently spinning in the background. Parts that ran endlessly, forcing the second hand to tick slowly on. Next to it lay a plastic digital Casio. An odd collection. He noted the man pawing the empty ninth slot with his left hand before it reached forward and closed the lid.

Calum shook the cold hand.

“Very brave,” said the neighbour as he watched the boy turn around and head back out towards the jungle gym. They’re never as fun the second time.

The neighbour watched from the staircase window as the boy made his way back out and through his garden. This time, he decided not to crawl through the brambles back to the sister's field. He passed back through the hedge hole to his new guardian. The news of the demented manner of the boy’s father left his body quaking with excitement. The sheer fucking lunacy. He grabbed his eyelashes, pulled them forward, felt the globby pluck as the suction plucked his eyelids from his eyeballs, and then the stickiness as he dropped them back in place, felt how wet they were. Ran his hands through his thin hair, felt the wet grease. Again, this time running his sharp nails across his scalp, scraping hard until he felt it nick and a little pool of blood come up to meet his finger.

His mind changed clothes; this girl, Ella, had given the tormented license to torment. He decided it was time to visit the Hag.