Day Eight - Evening and Night

            Casper swats a stick at the weeds along the manor road. It’s not his stick, the one he abandoned when he jumped the fence to get away from that damned priest. He wishes he hadn’t left it behind. The new one is okay, but it’s not the same; there’s something about it that doesn’t fit in his hand the way it should. There’s no reason for this small discrepancy to bother him to such a degree, yet bother him it does.

            He breaks the stick over his knee and throws the pieces as far as he can into the bush. They land with an empty thud on the unseen forest floor. It doesn’t solve his problem, but it makes him feel better. (Sort of.)

            The sun’s coming down. Time’s running out and he doesn’t know how to broach the topic to Balor. It’s not exactly something that comes up in polite conversation, but then neither of them are polite company, now are they? How hard could it possibly be? He simply has to tell the only person who’s shown him kindness without ulterior motive or trickery that he wants to go far, far away to a place where he’ll never see him again.

            He’s a monster for even considering it. The old man’s going to miss him a lot (you got it backwards and you know it). He’s gonna cry for him. He knows he will. He feels like crying already, can’t stand to think of what’s to come. It’s hard to believe how attached you can get in one week. He can’t live here, but he doesn’t want to leave.

            How quickly the situation changes. How did it come to this?

            The house stoops before him much too soon. What is he to do? …Well, may as well stop milling about the front door like a coward and get this over with. It’s not like Balor is going to tear him a new one; that’s Myr’s job and he’s not around to do it. Casper steps through the threshold and immediately revises that assumption. One of the plants by the entryway has been toppled over and Myr can be heard yelling in the next room over, likely the study judging by the direction.

            “Damn yer excuses! I told you to keep an eye on the lil’ fooker an’ what do I find? The fink’s been snoopin’ about. God knows wha’ ‘e’s ben tellin’ people.” There’s a pause, the sound of liquid sloshing in a container, and the wet smacking of Myr’s lips. “Oughta cap ‘im. More trouble than ‘e’s worth and it dun ‘elp none tha’ you ain’t pullin’ yer weight.” More silence. “Well? Wot the ‘ell’re you starin’ at me for?”

            “I was under the impression that you would allow Casper to remain here in exchange for the stipend.”

            “So?”

            “There may be difficulties in receiving this stipend should Casper be… otherwise indisposed.”

            “The fook does tha’ mean?”

            “What if the messenger with the stipend in hand insists upon seeing Casper before he presents the sum?”

            “You kill ‘im. Easy.”

            “And what of the next time?”

            “Eh?”

            “You do recall that the stipend is a monthly sum; there will be a next time, should the messenger find nothing amiss.”

            Silence again.

            “You… I see wot yer tryin’ ta do ‘ere. Yer tryin’ ta cheat me outta my money!” *Clunk.* “But you ain’t gonna win. You know why? ‘Cause I’m smarter than you. The boy stays and that’s final. I’m not about to get tricked by the likes of you. Stupid idea, killin’ the runt when ‘e could be makin’ me money.”

            “…Would that be all?”

            “Yeah, yeah, wha’ever.”

            The sound of the study door closing reverberates throughout the halls. That’s Casper’s cue to make a discrete escape. No time to shut the front door; if what he doesn’t hear is any indication, it’s Balor who’s on the move and he gets around fast. Casper ducks around to the back of the house, then into the greenhouse. The air cools as night approaches and Casper begins to have second thoughts. He zips into the woods and, after tripping a few times in the dark, returns with his blanket around his shoulders. He sits against the side of a planter. And now… he waits.

            He’s close to dozing when Balor comes in.

            “Casper. There you are. I was not aware… How long have you been here?”

            “I heard Myr yellin’.”

            “Ah… Could you be more specific?”

            “’Bout…” Casper swallows hard. His throat feels tight, like Myr’s squeezing the life out of him all over again. “It was ‘bout when he was wantin’ to rub me out.”

            “Oh.” And don’t that just say it all?

            Casper wears a bitter smile and stares down at his feet. “It-it happens, you know?” His voice cracks. He’s a hair shy from hysteria. “Um. You know what you said ‘bout gettin’ me outta here if I asked?”

            “I do, yes.”

            “Well… Consider me askin’, ‘cause I’m damn sure I’ve over stayed my welcome.”

            Balor nods. “Very well.”

            Casper chooses to sleep in the greenhouse. Balor doesn’t question it, instead offering to find him a pillow or some extra blankets for him. He declines. He’s swiped everything usable in the downstairs area for his hidden den, which he’d rather stay hidden. If Balor looks around too hard or starts asking too much about where everything’s gone, he’s going to find things, and Casper can’t have that, now can he? As far as Casper’s concerned, shivering in the dirt with his one, thin blanket for one night is much more preferable.

END OF DAY EIGHT.

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