The Demon Boy

Day One - Midday

     The driver hoarsely half-yells they've arrived at their destination. He interrupts the toff mid-sentence. That shuts him up. Sort of. He grumbles complaints of riffraff this and that under his breath, as if the old man weren't deaf after all and was merely pretending the whole time.

     They get out, toff stumbling through the entryway first. The boy follows him and stretches the kinks from a half day's worth of travel out of his back. He looks around and sees what a new beginning means.

     It means curious faces, smiling ones. People here are friendly. They don't have the 'shove off' attitude of city dwellers.

     A group of country boys crowds him. They're bigger than him, all of them, grown fat on the cream of the country as opposed to the crumbs of the city gutters. They're here to mug him for his shoes; they're the only thing of value he's got. What else could they be here for? But the big boys have no interest in what he's got on his feet. They're interested in him of all things. It's a cacophony of "Hey there!" and "Hallo!" The boy struggles to keep up with too many voices and far too many questions in too short a time.

     "What's your name?"

     "Where'd you come from?"

     "Are you new here?"

     *Smack.*

     "Oww! What was that for?"

     "For being an idiot is what it was. Course he's new here, we never seen him before."

     "Who's the toff?"

     "'The toff', as you boys so politely put it, is here to escort this young man to his uncle." The toff doesn't wait a moment to let the boy socialize as he pulls him away by the arm. "Come along. Don't you dally. The road back is long and the sooner I get you settled, the sooner I depart."

     The boy looks back at the group. They're still waving to him.

     "We'll see you around, alright?"

     "Bye now!"

     The boy waves back, or tries to. It's a hard thing to manage with the toff pulling him. He doesn't squeak so much as a word before the toff drags him into the nearest shop. As it turns out, the nearest shop is a general goods store managed by a pleasantly smiling housewife.

     Everyone smiles out here. Amazingly, those smiles are heartfelt, honest. Nobody smiles like that back home.

     The boy blinks. No, nobody smiles like that back in the city. This is home now. It'll take some getting used to, calling this place home, but it'll be worth it.

    The lady smiles at the strange duo. The boy smiles back. The toff doesn't waste his breath on niceties. "I'm looking for this boy's uncle." He yanks the boy upward by the arm, as if he'd be invisible otherwise.

     The lady frowns at the toff. "Well, I might be able to help, but you'll have to tell me a name first." There's the barest edge of chiding in her voice. It's like she's scolding the toff for being a twat, which he is. The boy likes her. Hopefully she's family. An aunt perhaps? There must be some relation.

     "Ah, right, that." The toff starts and stops as he digs around in the many pockets that line his fancy coat. "I- ahem- if you'll be so kind as to give me a moment, I know I, ah (no, not there either), I have the name on my person. Somewhere..."

     The lady waits on the toff for a minute or two, plenty of time to realize he shan't be finding that name soon.

     "I am so sorry Madam; this will only take a moment." The lie is so obvious, it's painful.