Give him a chance
“But, what, you…” you mumble, now confused more than ever.
“Ah, questions later. I’m gonna take ya home with me, and me wife’l
fix ya up a nice bowl a soup,” he announced. Not really thinking
straight, you decide to go home with him. After all, he can’t be that
bad if he’s married, can he?
Inside the man’s house, who you still don’t know the name of, you feel
unbelievably safe and secure. His wife brings you, as promised, a
steaming bowl of steaming, thick pumpkin soup.
“Mmmm, smells delicious. Thankyou very much, ummm…” You say, sounding
quite vague.
“Mrs Flicks. You can call me Mrs Flicks,” She replies kindly.
You can’t remember about the world that you live in, but you guess
that you are in paradise. Kind hospitality, roaring open fire, lovely
thick soup and a strange crystal that looks extremely valuable. It
finally dawns upon you since you met who you believe is Mr Flicks
neither you , no him, have paid any attention to the crystal tied
around your neck on a flimsy piece of string. Mr Flicks sees you
staring at the crystal in awe and breaks the serenity saying, “The
Crystal if Jebediah! I never thought I’d see you again little baby!”
“What, you know about this crystal?” I ask arrogantly.
“Huh, I know about it, I used to own it! I reckon it’s the rarest and
most precious stone on the planet. Back in the ‘60s, when I was quite
the spring chicken,” He goes on, with Mrs Flicks chuckling to herself
in the kitchen, “I was one of eight men, elite we were, chosen to go
to the Temples of Jebadiah, in Southern Egypt. Our quest was to
recover the rare Crystal of Jebadiah. It was once thought to be the
eye of Egypt, all-seeing, all-knowing. Basically, to cut a long story
short, we successfully recovered it, but were intercepted in northern
Iran on the return journey by militia. We believe it was then sold on
the black market for a seven figure price.”
“This is all very well,” You say in a confused voice, “but where do I
fit into this?”
“I’m not exactly sure, boy, but I can guess that your parents bought
it, realized what it was and panicked. If they sold it back, they’d
have got busted, so what better place to hide it away, than to give it
to their baby, which was you,” He replies.
This gives you the biggest feeling of guilt imaginable. “I, but,
they,” You stutter.
“It’s OK, boy, it’s not your fault,” He reassures you.
As you are bleeding, bruised and unable to remember your own name or
anything about yourself, you decide you have absolutely nothing to
lose by talking to this strange, filthy man. The silence and confusion
was broken momentarily when he speaks again. “Strong silent type are
we,” he says in a rather unwelcoming way. You stare at him blankly.
“Don’t worry, I’m just fooling with ya. Disregard me appearance,
really, I won’t hurt ya.”
