Young Writers Society

~1005 words

Grey

They all watched Tommy’s form disappear behind the door. There was a beat of silence before Ivy whirled on Grey. “Who was that?” she demanded.

Grey shrugged uncomfortably. “Just a friend, I guess.”

“Why are you friends with him? He’s a jerk!”

Grey shrugged again. How could he tell Ivy that Tommy had been his only friend his age for years now? Then, the door opened again. Grey half-expected that Tommy had decided he wasn’t finished harassing Nikki and had come back, but it was just potential new recruits. They looked around the room with curious, wide eyes. Grey felt bad for them: they had no idea what they were in for. The room was filled with its usual awkward silence, and because Grey still needed to ask Jack for something, he couldn’t sneak away. Instead, he sank onto the pew next to Jack and braced himself for the coming torrent of doomsday talk from Alder. Ivy and Nikki followed suit and sat on the other side of Jack. Ivy appeared to be consoling Nikki, who still looked a little shaken.

Alder cleared his throat and began with a strong, “There is a darkness roiling beneath the Earth! Soon, it will cover the sky!”

Grey felt Jack relax next to him. When he glanced over, Jack had leaned back in his seat and closed is eyes. How that man is able to relax when Alder’s up there yelling is beyond me, Grey thought. The apocalyptic warnings always set him on edge. When he looked over at Ivy and Nikki, they appeared to be trying to understand what the old man was blabbering on about. Their eyebrows were furrowed in concentration on his words. Good luck, Grey thought. I’ve been listening to this for years and I still don’t understand it.

Not too far into Alder’s rantings, the first people in the audience started to leave, one by one. They trickled out, some shaking their heads, some casting pitying looks at Alder, and some looking embarrassed to have even been seen in the room. The last one to go was an old man who had been sitting in the front. He stood up with a grunt and a shake of his bald head. When he turned around to go, he was surprised to find that the room was nearly empty. He quickly popped on his tatty bowler hat and rushed out the door with a limp. A few seconds after the door had shut, Alder trailed off. He squinted down at the back pew and asked, “Is it just you all left then?”

“I’m afraid so,” Jack called back, seemingly woken from his half-sleep.

“Drat,” spat Alder. He crossed to his office door and shut himself in.

Jack stretched leisurely and said, “And with that, I must be off.” He began to stand up, but Grey pulled on his arm.

“Actually, Jack, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” said Jack, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Grey glanced meaningfully at the girls, but they didn’t seem to take the hint.

Ivy turned to Grey and said, conversationally, “Alder’s quite a character, isn’t he? I wonder why we don’t see more of him in the workshop.”

“He used to be there more, but I suppose being absolutely bonkers takes up most of his time now,” Grey responded dryly.

“Maybe we could discuss it in the entry room, then?” Jack suggested, jerking his head toward the door.

“All right.”

“After you,” Jack said with a sweeping gesture.

Just as Jack closed the door behind him, Alder poked his head out of his office. “Nikki? Ivy? Can you come here? I’d like to talk with you.”

Grey was curious what Alder wanted with the girls, but he had more important business to attend to than eavesdropping. 

“So? What do you want?”

“Well,” Grey started, not sure how to begin, “you are involved in the acquisition of… curious items, right?”

“Perhaps,” Jack said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“I was hoping you would be able to find me a particular item that is not normally sold in public shops.”

“Be more specific, boy. I don’t have all day for you to dance around the subject like a ballerina.”

“A scrying sphere,” Grey blurted. “Can you get me one?”

“Oh just a scrying sphere. Yeah, I can do that for you. Though what a boy like you would want with something like that is beyond me.”

“I didn’t come here to be questioned.” Grey tried to sound indignant and unconcerned.

“Right, well, it’s gonna cost you.”

“How much?”

“Two pounds.”

Grey’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Jack looked amused. “You’re dealing with the black market here, and not just any black market. It’s he magic black market. A scrying sphere is a cheap little bauble compared to what most people hire me to buy for them. Normally I’d turn down such a piddling offer, but because I consider you a friend,” he paused to give Grey a significant look, “I’ll do this for you.”

Grey grumbled, but Jack had a point. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’d lower the price for me, since I’m your friend?” His voice didn’t hold much hope.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Lennox Grey,” Jack said in the resonant tones of a pious philosopher.

“Yeah, yeah.” Grey dug around in the pockets of his coat, pulling out pennies and shillings, and a single golden pound coin. He’d brought a lot of money with him, just in case the scrying sphere ended up more expensive than he expected. He’d never thought it would cost a full two pounds though. He only hoped he had enough.

Jack counted through the coins. When he’d finished, he pushed three pence back at Grey and pocketed the rest. “I’ll get that scrying sphere to you as soon as I can. Pleasure doing business with you.” Jack tipped his hat and left.

“Yeah, you too,” Grey said sarcastically after he’d gone. His coat felt uncomfortably light now that the heavy coins were gone. No matter, he thought, I’ll make all that back and more once I have the sphere.