Scots terms
Roaster – idiot, ne’er do well.
Baws – Balls/bollocks.
To get tae (t-ay) – Probably a Glaswegian saying that is means to go to hell.
Da – Dad
Script
I’ve not mentioned anything normal in a while, have I? The life that used to be my everything before coming into the shop. Clubs, pubs, pals, lectures, and deadlines. They all fade into white noise, the kind you listen to as you’re trying to go to sleep. But in between all of these tales of mine, all of these adventures, I have to clean the flat, go to lectures, and most appropriately just now, study for exams.
I was hoping that working in the shop made me braver, less susceptible to tense and anxious atmospheres. Nope, it hasn’t. It’s like a miasma has settled over the campus. More students have congregated in the last few weeks of study time than the entire semester put together. Every floor in the library is crammed, all the desks and study rooms are booked unless you feel like going in the middle of the night, which you can since the university have been enabling enough to keep the library open for 24 hours. The student union is arguably worse as by the time people get there, they’ve usually stalked furiously around the library for best part of half an hour looking for a desk. You get two kinds of people in the union. The ones who go to the café, order the cheapest thing, and sit all day scribbling or typing away in the hopes it’ll save them from the dreaded fail. The second are the ones at the bar at noon ordering drinks, playing snooker or table tennis, claiming they don’t need to revise as they’re so fucking clever they just remember it all. I hope karma hears them.
And the worst place of all. The flat. The one where no one’s cleaning because none of us have time. The pizza boxes and curry trays are piling up dangerously. I suppose I can kiss our deposit goodbye. Everyone keeps to their rooms like caged birds, only coming out for food or water. And when they do emerge, they look like they’ve clawed their way out of a swamp or were rejected extras on the Walking Dead.
This leaves the antique shop as the only possible place to study. It’s relatively quiet these days, or so I thought, and hardly any interruptions. I’ve set up a wee desk for myself in one of the back corners of the cavern, unable to see the door so I don’t get distracted as easily. Turns out the door isn’t the biggest problem. I must’ve looked through hundreds of photo albums, cigarette cards, and sewing patterns by now. And none of them will be in my exam. In between, I’m highlighting lines of lecture notes that I don’t even remember getting let alone listening when they were explained to me. Concepts are being referred to like I know what they mean, which I don’t, so I have to dig out another set of notes to find what it all means. It’s a nightmare, and I only have myself to blame.
Every so often it gets too much, and I let my head hit the table in the hopes that the damage will make my memory better somehow or give me the ability to go back in time and stop myself from being such a roaster and pay attention in lectures. Occasionally, Chronos will be lounging beside me, curled up with not a care in the world. In the last few days I’ve often wished I could find something in the shop that would allow me to swap places with him.
One time after hearing the thud on my desk Fionn decided he was going to pop his head around the corner, and I don’t really think he realises how lucky he is to still have it attached. Helpful as usual, he began to muse that he didn’t understand why I was bothering with uni, it’s not as if I was ever going to use it. I snapped back that he wasn’t helping. He came closer, inspected the ring binders and notepads scribbled on with notes and questions, and then repeated his misgivings, pointing out that I was choosing to stress myself out this much. I told him where to go.
He, of course, had a point. It was just one I didn’t want to think about. Not then, at least.
Fionn and I had settled into a weird kind of relationship. Weird in that it wasn’t any different to what it’d been before I had the wyvern ring on my finger. I don’t really like it that much, but I think that’s because it’s on the same finger as my last one. It feels strange to look down at my pinky and see the deep green eyes of a wyvern, which looks an awful lot like a dragon, staring back at me instead of a fox. I haven’t heard from Reid since he left – since I told him to go. He’s not been far from my thoughts either.
I find it hard to believe that the charming Fionn is a dragon-like creature. I mean, how big are we talking? I found it easier to believe a fox could take a human form, but a huge mythical creature shrinking down to something so small in comparison? It also left the question of what he could do? It’d never seemed to me that Reid had any powers, so to speak, but was it different for Fionn? He tried to be all arrogant about it once he’d told me and I’d voiced my disbelief. Chronos was quick to put him down, mentioning that Wyverns were distinctly less formidable than dragons due to having less limbs, and generally being smaller. Waspishly, Fionn warned Chronos that even with two less legs he was still better than a shop cat.
Even I don’t believe that’s what Chronos is, not really. Nothing is as it appears; not Fionn, not Reid, not most of the customers. Why should the wee shite be any different? After that, Fionn transformed into grandpa mode, informing me about the good old days when wyverns were feared and revered.
As interesting as it was at the time, now I was baws deep revising subjects that made no mention of dragons, wyverns or shop cats, I had no time for Fionn and his difficult questions.
Despite the notes, flashcards, highlighted lines, and desperate cramming the night before and morning of, my first few exams went tits up. If only they did give you a mark for putting your name on the front. The gruelling exam timetable carried on, like sand down an hourglass, and with each passing one I began to feel worse. Hopelessness set in, and the last ounce of rage that I had wasn’t far behind it.
How was I this shite at everything? I was out of my depth in the shop, and now I was out of my depth with uni’, with the part of my life that was normal, the part that’d been my anchor, a source of stability. Was this how it was for people who dipped their toes into the shop side of the world? They thought they knew what was what, how things worked, only to be told different. Yet, no matter how long they’re exposed, or how hard they try to understand or learn, the confusion seeps into everything. I used to feel like I belonged in my life, that was where I was meant to be. But lately it feels like I don’t. And it’s not like I feel any more at home in the shop and the world surrounding it.
I’ve turned into an outlier, not sure where they’re supposed to be, which side of the line they’re meant to be on. Trudging through no man’s land hoping not to step in something that’ll kill them. These doubts weighed me down, invaded my dreams, kept me up the nights before exams. When I did go to the shop and desperately try to revise Fionn would be there, asking questions I didn’t want to answer. Everything in my life was flowing through my hands like water, and I was desperately trying to scoop it back up.
Then came my penultimate exam. Another in a perpetual string of shite papers. The torture had finished before midday, and I contemplated going to the student’s union and opening a tab so I could drink myself to oblivion, before realising I could do it much cheaper if I got the booze from the shop and did it at home instead. Despair swirled in my head as I made the journey to the nearest shop, and then something caught my eye.
It’s only bad things that catch my eyes these days and I struggled with my brain trying to stop it from looking. But I did and saw a creature I hadn’t seen since the blissful ignorance of my first few months in the shop. A wee brown rabbit perched on the edge of the pavement on the opposite side of the road. Its nose twitched, whiskers moving up and down as it smelled the air. It sat there, staring at me. I’d stopped abruptly, forcing the woman behind me to swerve to avoid a collision. She muttered something pretty appropriate, but not very nice, at me as she stalked off. The last time I’d seen that wee thing I’d met Fionn, and we’d met one of a string of loose cannons who wanted to hurt people. Despite its button nose, cotton tail, and unassuming appearance, that creature meant trouble. And that was the last thing I needed.
I took a few shaky steps forwards, almost able to see the glowing sign of the shop where they kept the booze. Another few paces staring determinedly forwards. I wasn’t looking. It could get tae. A few more steps. I could see the aisle in my mind, the cheapest of cheap wine in my hand at the checkout. Then my mind began to wander. Back to that night in the alleyway with Fionn and the strange man. The mostly unconscious lassie who’d been his sacrificial lamb. If I’d never followed the rabbit then what would’ve happened to her? What if it was a similar situation now?
I could live with it. After all of the shite that’d gone on in the last few weeks, I was due some time off. Just this one time.
I think we all fucking know what happened. I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I’d walked away. I’d have been living in torture wondering if I’d left someone to die. With an infantile huff I crossed the road and followed the sodding rabbit, wandering if rabbit pie was hard to make.
It wasn’t a short walk either, not like the last time. This was quite a way out from the campus, in an area that’d been cleared by the council in the last few years. It was a place on the outskirts of an industrial area where factories and warehouses were. They’d been council houses until recently, but since the expansion of the area into industry everyone had been moved elsewhere and the houses were left abandoned until the site was bought by a developer. On inspecting them I hoped they hadn’t looked as bad when people had been living in them.
They had the essence of abandonment. Windows and doors were boarded up with metal sheets to stop vagrants and squatters from getting in, locked with padlocks so heavy it would’ve taken two of the strongest people in the country just to get them on. What small gardens had been attached were overgrown with weeds, dandelions, and the occasional rogue daisy. There were no cars on the street, and no one walking past. I started to feel like following had been a mistake. I’d seen too many horror films to think this was going to end well for me.
Sure enough, the rabbit disappeared from the pavement and made its way into one of these buildings. When my gaze followed it I saw that this particular house didn’t have a padlock on the front door, and the metal board used to block it up was lying discarded in the front garden. Anybody else would’ve turned around. But that was too sensible for me.
I approached the door, which was ajar and wide enough for me to squeeze through and regret the two sausage rolls I’d had for breakfast. As soon as I’d finished brushing off the dust and grime from my jacket I looked up. The rabbit was gone.
I was in a club. Not unlike the one I’d been in the first time I’d seen the rabbit. People were dancing around me, jumping up and down to music I couldn’t hear. It wasn’t packed, and there were few enough people for me to wind my way in and out of them, but I moved slowly, as if wading through water. I eventually saw a familiar face. My own. Surrounded by my pals with their drinks in their hands, not caring who or what they spilled them on. We were having a great time. We always did on nights out. But they’d been rarer to come by recently, and it wasn’t just because of exams. I’d just not felt like it. I’d made excuses, or I’d been working late in the shop and by the time I got back they’d already left.
I looked happy. Happier than I was now, and I hated that. I moved on past the group towards a doorway that was lit up, not dissimilar to a fire exit. The bar across the door gave way when I pushed it and I emerged into the bright sunlight of a summer’s day. There are people around me dressed in black robes, multicoloured hoods draped over their shoulders, or hanging off them. Everyone’s dressed smartly, high heels, fancy dresses, suits, and ties. There’re cameras everywhere, from the professional to the one on people’s phones, and most people are posing, grinning and smiling widely as the flashes go off. This is graduation. I scan the crowd, and eventually I find myself, dressed like everyone else in my Sunday best. There’s a professional photographer with his camera strap around his neck, aiming the lens straight at me and my Da, who stands as proud as he is awkward. He puts his arm around me and squeezes, and I can see his beaming grin from where I’m standing.
Then there’s one flash too many as the scene changes again. This time I’m in a fancy reception area of a building. Marble floor, pretentious art on the walls, and uncomfortable sofas in the waiting area. In what is a recurring theme I’m sitting on one of the chairs, pretending to look through a woman’s health magazine, even though my eyes are darting everywhere but at the page. I’m dressed up again in a suit that I don’t even own, wearing shoes that look so new I can feel my feet cry out with agony. Eventually someone approaches me and shakes my hand, telling me to follow them and I do, looking like a shark’s just invited me over to dinner. I notice the company name on the reception desk and realise this is the place where most graduates from my degree get jobs afterwards.
The final scene I’m shown is the most bizarre. It’s a café, the one that does the best coffee in my opinion, and suitably beyond a student’s budget. The seats are empty, save for one table. I’m there again, but someone’s sitting opposite me. A someone I’ve not seen in weeks. Reid. We each have a mug, Reid has a slice of their dark chocolate cake, and he’s talking in-between mouthfuls, telling me something that I laugh at or agree with. There’s nothing special here, this is a normal conversation. It looks so easy, so why did we never do it?
The café fades, all of the scenes fade, and I’m left in the empty front room of the ruined house. The walls are covered with mould, the bare floorboards are covered with scratches and marks, some coming loose in places. It should be dark, pitch black, but the window at the back of the room has been uncovered and lets just enough light in that I can see the dilapidation. I’m facing that window and can see the forest the back garden has become sway in the steady breeze. The rabbit hasn’t reappeared, and I’m left there wondering what this was all about.
I didn’t need to wonder long, as when I turned around to go over to the front door and leave, a figure was blocking my path. I inhaled sharply through my teeth when I saw her, looking even more intimidating in this setting than in the shop.
Madam Anora.
Since she’d been the last thing I was expecting, it took me a few minutes to gather my thoughts. No one of them was coherent. Like my Madam, Anora didn’t need me to voice my queries. She informed me, in her harsh tone, that she was here to help.
She explained that what I’ve seen was the future, a possible future. A normal life with graduations, careers, pals, and family. A real friendship with Reid, not one that was tainted by an archaic and unfair bond. A life that was of my choosing.
Madam Anora offered to release me from my apprenticeship.
I haven’t uttered many words by this point, but I have learnt one thing being in the shop, watching as all of these desperate people come in and beg to be saved. There’s always a price. So what was it?
Och, no big deal, she says, just a wee bit of my life; so wee I’d hardly notice. Deep down I know what she means. She wanted years, my years. I don’t ask how many because I know she won’t give me an answer.
Also learning from the customers, I ask her how much time I have to make up my mind? The answer is immediately. She wouldn’t let me leave the house until I gave her an answer.
It was nice to think I could use the same power on her now as I did when she came into the shop, but I didn’t think I could do that again, not in that situation. My first thought was if she was telling the truth. Was releasing me even possible? What about Fate, destiny, and all of that shop shite? Did Madam Anora really have the power to sidestep all of that? But if she couldn’t, then why would she lie? Why would she go to all of this trouble to speak with me?
A thought that has occurred to me since is why was she offering me this? What did she have to gain from this deal? I still can’t figure that out.
I took some time, probably not as long as I should’ve. And now I’m home, without my wine, staring at my binders and lecture notes and flash cards.
I’ve made my decision. Now I just need to live with it, for however long that is.
Script – Scots
I’ve no mentioned anything normal in a while, have I? The life that used to be my everything before comin’ intae the shop. Clubs, pubs, pals, lectures, deadlines. They all fade intae white noise, the kind ye listen tae as you’re tryin tae go tae sleep. But in between all ae these tales ae mine, all ae these adventures, I have tae clean the flat, go tae lectures, and most appropriately just noo, study fae exams.
I was hopin’ that workin’ in the shop made me braver, less susceptible tae tense and anxious atmospheres. Nope, it hasnae. It’s like a miasma has settled over the campus. More students have congregated in the last few weeks ae study time than the entire semester put together. Every floor in the library is crammed, all the desks and study rooms are booked unless ye feel like goin’ in the middle ae the night, which you can since the university have been enabling enough tae keep the library open fae 24 hours. The student union is arguably worse as by the time people get there they’ve usually stalked furiously roond the library fae best part ae half an hour lookin fae a desk. Ye get two kinds ae people in the union. The ones who go tae the café, order the cheapest ‘hing, and sit all day scribblin or typin away in the hopes it’ll save them frae the dreaded fail. The second are the ones at the bar at noon orderin’ drinks, playin snooker or table tennis, claimin’ they dinnae need tae revise as they’re so fuckin’ clever they just remember it all. I hope karma hears them.
And the worst place of all. The flat. The one where no one’s cleanin’ ‘cause none ae us have time. The pizza boxes and curry trays are pilin’ up dangerously. I suppose I can kiss our deposit goodbye. Everyone keeps tae their rooms like caged birds, only comin’ oot fae food or water. And when they do emerge they look like they’ve clawed their way oot ae a swamp, or were rejected extras on the Walking Dead.
This leaves the antique shop as the only possible place tae study. It’s relatively quiet these days, or so I thought, and hardly any interruptions. I’ve set up a wee desk fae maself in one ae the back corners ae the cavern, unable tae see the door so I dinnae get distracted as easily. Turns oot the door isnae the biggest problem. I mustae looked through hundreds ae photo albums, cigarette cards, and sewing patterns by noo. And none ae them will be in ma exam. In between I’m highlighting lines ae lecture notes that I dinnae even remember gettin’ let alone listening when they were explained tae me. Concepts are being referred tae like I know whit they mean, which I dinnae, so I have tae dig oot another set ae notes tae find whit it all means. It’s a nightmare, and I only have maself tae blame.
Every so often it gets too much and I let ma heid hit the table in the hopes that the damage will make ma memory better somehow, or gee me the ability tae go back in time and stop maself frae bein such a roaster and pay attention in lectures. Occasionally Chronos will be loungin’ beside me, curled up wi’ no a care in the world. In the last few days I’ve often wished I could find something in the shop that would allow me tae swap places wi’ him.
One time after hearin’ the thud on ma desk Fionn decided he was gonnae pop his heid roond the corner, and I dinnae really think he realises how lucky he is tae still have it attached. Helpful as usual, he began tae muse that he didnae understand why I was botherin’ wi’ uni, it’s no as if I was ever gonnae use it. I snapped back that he wasnae helpin’. He came closer, inspected the ring binders and notepads scribbled on wi notes and questions, and then repeated his misgivings, pointin’ oot that I was choosin’ tae stress maself oot this much. I told him where tae go.
He, of course, had a point. It was just one I didnae want tae ‘hink aboot. No then, at least.
Fionn and I had settled intae a weird kind ae relationship. Weird in that it wasnae any different tae what it’d been before I had the wyvern ring on ma finger. I dinnae really like it that much, but I think that’s because it’s on the same finger as ma last one. It feels strange tae look doon at my pinky and see the deep green eyes ae a wyvern, which looks an awful lot like a dragon, starin’ back at me instead ae a fox. I havenae heard frae Reid since he left, since I told him tae go. He’s no’ been far frae ma thoughts either.
I find it hard tae believe that the charmin’ Fionn is a dragon like creature. I mean how big are we talkin? I found it easier tae believe a fox could take a human form, but a huge mythical creature shrinkin’ doon tae somethin’ so small in comparison? It also left the question ae whit he could do. It’d never seemed tae me that Reid had any powers, so tae speak, but was it different fae Fionn? He tried tae be all arrogant aboot it once he’d told me and I’d voiced ma disbelief. Chronos was quick tae put him doon, mentionin’ that Wyverns were distinctly less formidable than dragons due to havin’ less limbs, and generally being smaller. Waspishly, Fionn warned Chronos that even wi’ two less legs he was still better than a shop cat.
Even I dinnae believe that’s what Chronos is, no really. Nothin’ is as it appears, no Fionn, no Reid, no most ae the customers. Why should the wee shite be any different? After that Fionn transformed intae grandpa mode, informin’ me aboot the good old days when wyverns were feared and revered.
As interestin’ as it was at the time, noo I was baws deep revisin’ subjects that made no mention ae dragons’ wyverns, or shop cats, I had no time fae Fionn and his difficult questions.
Despite the notes, flashcards, highlighted lines, and desperate cramming the night before and morning of, ma first few exams went tits up. If only they did gee ye a mark fae puttin’ your name on the front. The gruelling exam timetable carried on, like sand doon an hourglass, and wi’ each passin’ one I began tae feel worse. Hopelessness set in, and the last ounce ae rage that I had wasnae far behind it.
How was I this shite at everythin? I was oot ae ma depth in the shop, and noo I was oot ae ma depth wi’ uni’, wi’ the part ae ma life that was normal, the part that’d been ma anchor, a source ae stability. Was this how it was fae people who dipped their toes intae the shop side ae the world? They thought they knew whit was what, how ‘hings worked, only tae be told different. Yet no matter how long they’re exposed, or how hard they try tae understand or learn, the confusion seeps intae everythin’. I used tae feel like I belonged in ma life, that was where I was meant tae be. But lately, just sometimes, it feels like I dinnae. And it’s no’ like I feel any more at home in the shop and the world surroundin’ that.
I’ve turned intae an outlier, no really sure where they’re supposed tae be, which side ae the line they’re meant tae be on. Trudging through no man’s land hopin’ no tae step in somethin’ that’ll kill them. These doubts weighed me doon, invaded ma dreams, kept me up the nights before exams. When I did go tae the shop and desperately try tae revise Fionn would be there, askin questions I didnae want tae answer. Everythin’ in ma life was flowin’ through ma hands like water, and I was desperately tryin’ tae scoop it back up.
Then came ma penultimate exam. Another in a perpetual string ae shite papers. The torture had finished before midday, and I contemplated goin’ tae the student’s union and openin’ a tab so I could drink maself tae oblivion, before realisin’ I could do it much cheaper if I got the booze frae the shop and did it at home instead. Despair swirled in ma heid as I made the journey tae the nearest shop, and then somethin’ caught ma eye.
It’s only bad ‘hings that catch ma eyes these days and I struggled wi’ ma brain tryin tae stop it frae lookin’. But I did and saw a creature I hadnae seen since the blissful ignorance ae ma first few months in the shop. A wee brown rabbit perched on the edge ae the pavement on the opposite side ae the road. Its nose twitched, whiskers moving up and doon as it smelled the air. It sat there, starin’ at me. I’d stopped abruptly, forcin’ the woman behind me tae swerve tae avoid a collision. She muttered somethin’ pretty appropriate, but no very nice, at me as she stalked aff. The last time I’d seen that wee ‘hing I’d met Fionn, and we’d met one ae a string ae loose cannons who wanted tae hurt people. Despite its button nose, cotton tail, and unassuming appearance, that creature meant trouble. And that was the last ‘hing I needed.
I took a few shaky steps forwards, almost able tae see the glowin’ sign ae the shop where they kept the booze. Another few paces starin’ determinedly forwards. I wasnae lookin’. It could get tae. A few more steps. I could see the aisle in ma mind, the cheapest ae cheap wine in ma hand at the checkout. Then ma mind began tae wander. Back tae that night in the alleyway wi Fionn and the strange man. The mostly unconscious lassie who’d been his sacrificial lamb. If I’d never followed the rabbit then whit wouldae happened tae her? Whit if it was a similar situation noo?
I could live wi’ it. After all ae the shite that’d gone on in the last few weeks, I was due some time aff. Just this one time.
I ‘hink we all fuckin’ know whit happened. I knew I couldnae live wi maself if I’d walked away. I’d ha been livin’ in torture wondering if I’d left someone tae die. Wi an infantile huff I crossed the road and followed the sodding rabbit, wanderin’ if rabbit pie was hard tae make.
It wasnae a short walk either, no like the last time. This was quite a ways oot frae the campus, in an area that’d been cleared by the council in the last few years. It was a place on the outskirts ae an industrial area where factories and warehouses were. They’d been council hooses until recently, but since the expansion ae the area intae industry everyone had been moved tae elsewhere and the hooses were left abandoned until the site was bought by a developer. On inspectin’ them I hoped they hadnae looked as bad when people had been livin’ in them.
They had the essence ae abandonment. Windoas and doors were boarded up wi’ metal sheets tae stop vagrants and squatters frae gettin’ in, locked wi’ padlocks so heavy it wouldae taken two ae the strongest people in the country just tae get them on. Whit small gardens had been attached were overgrown wi weeds, dandelions, and the occasional rogue daisy. There were no cars on the street, and no one walkin’ past. I started tae feel like followin’ had been a mistake. I’d seen too many horror films tae ‘hink this was gonnae end well fae me.
Sure enough the rabbit disappeared frae the pavement and made its way intae one ae these buildings. When ma gaze followed it I saw that this particular hoose didnae have a padlock on the front door, and the metal board used tae block it up was lying discarded in the front garden. Anybody else wouldae turned roond. But that was too sensible fae me.
I approached the door, which was ajar wide enough fae me tae squeeze through and regret the two sausage rolls I’d had fae breakfast. As soon as I’d finished brushin’ aff the dust and grime frae ma jacket I looked up. The rabbit was gone.
I was in a club. No unlike the one I’d been in the first time I’d seen the rabbit. people were dancin’ roond me, jumpin’ up and doon tae music I couldnae hear. It wasnae packed, and there were few enough people fae me tae wind ma way in and oot ae them, but I moved slowly, as if wadin’ through water. I eventually saw a familiar face. Ma own. Surrounded by ma pals wi their drinks in their hands, no carin’ who or whit they spilled them on. We were havin’ a great time. We always had on nights oot. But they’d been rarer tae come by recently, and it wasnae just because ae exams. I’d just no felt like it. I’d made excuses, or I’d been workin’ late in the shop and by the time I’d got back they’d already left.
I looked happy. Happier than I was noo, and I hated that. I moved on past the group towards a doorway that was lit up, no dissimilar tae a fire exit. The bar across the door gave way when I pushed it and I emerged intae the bright sunlight ae a summer’s day. There’s people roond me dressed in black robes, multicoloured hoods draped over their shoulders, or hangin’ aff them. Everyone’s dressed smartly, high heels, fancy dresses, suits and ties. There’re cameras everywhere, frae the professional tae the one on people’s phones, and most people are posin, grinning and smiling widely as the flashes go aff. This is graduation. I scan the crowd, and eventually I find masel’ dressed like everyone else in ma Sunday best. There’s a professional photographer wi his camera strap roond his neck, aimin’ the lens straight at me and ma Da, who stands as proud as he is awkward. He puts his arm roond me and squeezes, and I can see his beaming grin frae where I’m standin’.
Then there’s one flash too many as the scene changes again. This time I’m in a fancy reception area ae a building. Marble floor, pretentious art on the walls, and uncomfortable sofas in the waiting area. In whit is a recurring theme I’m sittin on one ae the chairs, pretendin’ tae look through a woman’s health magazine, even though ma eyes are dartin’ everywhere but at the page. I’m dressed up again in a suit that I dinnae even own, wearin’ shoes that look so new I can feel ma feet cry out wi’ agony. Eventually someone approaches me and shakes ma hand, tellin’ me tae follow them and I do, lookin’ like a shark’s just invited me over tae dinner. I notice the company name on the reception desk and realise this is the place where most graduates frae ma degree get jobs afterwards.
The final scene I’m shown is the most bizarre. It’s a café, the one that does the best coffee in ma opinion, and suitably beyond a student’s budget. The seats are empty, save fae one table. I’m there again, but someone’s sittin’ opposite me. A someone I’ve no seen in weeks. Reid. We each have a mug, Reid has a slice ae their dark chocolate cake, and he’s talkin’ in between mouthfuls, tellin’ me something that I laugh at or agree wi’. There’s nothin’ special here, this is a normal conversation. It looks so easy, so why did we never do it?
The café fades, all ae the scenes fade, and I’m left in the empty front room ae the ruined hoose. The walls are covered wi mould, the bare floorboards are covered wi scratches and marks, some comin’ loose in places. It should be dark, pitch black, but the windae at the back ae the room has been uncovered and lets just enough light in that I can see the dilapidation. I’m facin that windae, can see the forest the back garden has become sway in the steady breeze. The rabbit hasnae reappeared, and I’m left there wonderin’ whit this was all aboot.
I didnae need tae wonder long, as when I turned roond tae go over tae the front door and leave, a figure was blockin’ ma path. I inhaled sharply through ma teeth when I saw her, lookin’ even more intimidating in this setting than in the shop. Madam Anora.
Since she’d been the last ‘hing I was expectin’ it took me a few minutes tae gather ma thoughts. No one ae them was coherent. Like my Madam, Anora didnae need me tae voice ma queries. She informed me, in her harsh tone, that she was here tae help.
She explained that whit I’ve seen was the future, a possible future. A normal life wi’ graduations, careers, pals, and family. A real friendship wi’ Reid, no one that was tainted by an archaic and unfair bond. A life that was ae ma choosin’.
Madam Anora offered tae release me frae ma apprenticeship.
I havnae uttered many words by this point, but I have learnt one ‘hing bein in the shop, watchin’ as all ae these desperate people come in and beg tae be saved. There’s always a price. So whit was it?
Och, no big deal, she says, just a wee bit ae ma life, so wee I’d hardly notice. Deep doon I know whit she means. She wanted years, ma years. I dinnae ask how many because I know she won’t gee me an answer.
Also learnin’ frae the customers, I ask her how much time I have tae make up ma mind? The answer is immediately. She wouldnae let me leave the hoose until I gave her an answer.
It was nice tae ‘hink I could use the same power on her noo as I did when she came intae the shop, but I didnae ‘hink I could do that again, no in that situation. Ma first thought was if she was tellin’ the truth. Was releasin’ me even possible? Whit aboot fate, destiny, and all ae that shop shite? Did Madam Anora really have the power tae sidestep all ae that? But if she couldnae, then why would she lie? Why would she go tae all ae this trouble tae speak wi me?
A thought that has occurred tae me since is why was she offerin’ me this? Whit did she have tae gain frae this deal? I still cannae figure that oot.
I took some time, probably no as long as I shouldae. And noo I’m home, withoot ma wine, starin’ at ma binders and lecture notes and flash cards. I’ve made my decision. Noo I just need tae live wi’ it, fae however long that is.