Scots terms
Randomer – I’m perhaps showing my age a bit here. It was a common Glaswegian phrase used to refer to a stranger. I suppose the literal translation would be “random person”.
Fiver – slang word for £5.
Auld wives’ tale – a tall tale, a superstitious story. More common in England as Old Wives’ tale.
Tattie bogle – scarecrow
Script
Episode 28 – The Cap
I triumphed over Fate today, again. I don’t understand what all the fuss was about before, all the dour warnings for my boss. The earth hasn’t stopped turning. The sun hasn’t stopped rising every morning and setting every evening. Nothing bad has happened even though I’ve “interfered with Fate”. I wouldn’t really call it interfering, more cutting it short.
All of us were in the shop this day. It was Fionn’s turn to entertain Chronos, and the two were in an intense miniature chess match that Reid and I’d become bored with very quickly. We were in the middle of a race to find this pen that Reid claimed wrote predictions about the future. We’d made a bet because I didn’t believe him, so he was determined to prove me wrong, and I made it a race because he crumbles under pressure and I was bored.
We never got to finish the race as when the bell echoed around the cavern, we had to stop our game and pretend like we were functional adults until the customer left. It was a lad that had come in, and from the way he ignored us and picked an aisle I knew he wasn’t a special customer.
I get this pit in my stomach these days when a customer like that comes in, a normal one, someone that buys something seemingly innocuous but could easily dismantle their lives in less than a week. It takes a lot of willpower not to follow them around the shop like a security guard after some teenagers, keeping an eye out for any item that may snag their attention. All I can do is wait at the counter until they’re finished, until after they’ve made a decision that could very well affect the rest of their lives.
This lad decided he was going to buy a flat cap. I hadn’t even realised we had one. You know the type, your Grandpa used to wear one. They look similar to the caps that paper boys used to wear at the beginning of the 20th century, but flatter as the name implies. A bit posh in my opinion, but each to their own. I admit, I relaxed a bit when I saw it was a piece of clothing. I don’t know why. Perhaps I just didn’t have the imagination to think it could do something sinister.
My hope was short lived when I caught a glimpse of Fionn’s face out the corner of my eye. His skin had gone a few shades paler, and he was looking at the cap in a similar way he’d looked at that brooch a few months back.
Apprehension.
Like a spark in a petrol station, this brief glance at my familiar caused my own anxiety to begin spiralling. What the hell did this hat do? Make you go bald, injure you in some way, attract bad people to you, cause you to be scammed and lose all your money? I couldn’t wait until the customer left so I could ask.
I pinned my dragon companion with a demanding stare, hoping not for the first time in my life that I could burn holes through him until he told me. Feeling, more than noticing, my eyes on him, he swallowed and began to explain.
He wouldn’t wish the cap on his worst enemy, he says. He’d known the original owner over a century ago, and things hadn’t ended well for him. The cap caused the wearer to hallucinate, although Fionn described it more like sleep paralysis, except the person was awake. They’d see things, nightmares, horrifying sights, and they wouldn’t be able to move until it was over. It could happen anywhere and at any time, whenever the cap felt like it. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what had happened to the original wearer, but to my disappointment Fionn was thorough.
An asylum. This might be the first time I’ve thought that death would’ve been kinder. Not because of the asylum, contrary to popular belief they weren’t actually as bad by the 20th century as people believe, with a few exceptions, but because of the losing your mind bit. Being so bad as to be confined to an asylum for the rest of your life. All because of a cap.
I really wonder who makes things like this. Where do these items come from? Why? What purpose is this serving? Surely the person who made it is already dead by now. So, you got your revenge, why do these things live on after the creator has gone? Presuming they are gone at all, perhaps the Madams and familiars aren’t the only ones with an unusual lifespan. Yet another thing I don’t want to think about.
I really did have the best of intentions with the cap and the customer. I wasn’t feeling great after what Fionn had told me it did, but the Madam’s warnings were still ringing in my ears. Don’t interfere with Fate. Don’t interfere. I know I had before, but that had only been a few times, and I’d made an exception. Maybe I’d just got lucky.
I tried to tell myself this for the rest of the day. I lost the race and the bet with Reid because I was so distracted. It turns out he was telling the truth, sort of. This pen did make predictions, it’s just that most were wrong, and the rest only really made sense in retrospect. More riddles than anything substantial.
The customer issue got even harder to ignore when the wee rabbit reappeared. You remember, the small brown one with white cotton tail that likes to try and get trampled at night clubs. This time it wasn’t moving much, but waiting by the door like a dog left outside of a shop whilst the owner gets their morning paper. I knew it wouldn’t go away until I acknowledged it, and I knew it wanted me to follow it.
It didn’t take me long after its appearance to build up my courage to act. True, I may have got lucky with Marion, but what if I got lucky this time too? I mean there was always the possibility the Madam was exaggerating about Fate. Surely, it’s not so petty as to give a shite about some randomer buying a cap?
I took Reid aside, ignoring his gloating face as he twiddled my fiver between his fingers, and told him what I wanted to do. It didn’t fill me with confidence when the smugness drained from his face, replaced by the crease of his heavy brow that told me he was unsure. I whisper my reasoning, not that I think I really had to. Fionn and Chronos were still so deep in their chess match I’m not sure they heard anything but the scrape of the wood as the pieces were moved across the board.
Reid only looks partially convinced, but he can tell I’ve made up my mind. I’m going after the customer with or without him, and he decided he’s going to have to keep me out of trouble.
Before he changes his mind, I drag him over to the counter to interrupt the match, although I predictably fail. I tell Fionn and Chronos that Reid and I are going to get a coffee and ask if they want anything. Fionn flails his hand lethargically as he shakes his head and tells us he hopes there isn’t a queue at the post office.
Realising he must not really have heard me I steer Reid out of the shop, the brown rabbit the first one to hop out of the open door. Once we’re free, Reid asks how we’re going to find this customer. I smile and point to the rabbit a few feet ahead of us. He glances in that direction. His frown deepens, bemused, before transforming into a concerned scowl as he turns back to me. I can tell he doesn’t really know what to say, whether to confront it or pretend like I’m not crazy. It confirmed to me that I’m the only one who can see the rabbit.
After telling him it didn’t matter, I began to follow the rabbit as it hopped down the street, past the shops and in between the pedestrians. Gingerly, Reid walked at my side, still contemplating whether to interfere. The customer can’t have got that far from the shop, and after five minutes of walking, trying not to lose sight of my guide whilst avoiding bumping into people, I see him in the distance.
He’s put the tweed cap on, and he’s waiting at a bus stop with a few other people. They’re all looking at their phones, scrolling through their feeds or swiping on stranger’s pictures. But the customer is staring off into space, a glassy eyed look engulfing his features. The closer we get the more jarring it becomes. The world is moving, the cars honk at each other, the cyclists whizz by in their designated lane, others are manoeuvring round the people waiting for the bus, but this customer looks as though someone’s pressed pause. If someone took a picture, he’d be the only one in focus.
The closer Reid and I get the less glassy his features look. Rather than vacancy its terror, as though there’s a horrific crime happening wherever his eyes are looking. There’s a bank across the road, in the direction of his petrified stare, but everything’s normal. No robberies, no assaults, no murder, or car accident. I remember what Fionn said, about the waking night terrors, and wish he hadn’t decided to put the cap on.
The rabbit disappears once we’ve reached the customer. Reid stays back cautiously whilst I approach, touching the lad lightly on the shoulder. He blinks, the focus returns to his eyes, and he’s looking around as if expecting whatever he was seeing to still be there. His body slackens, and after a few moments I see the tremors of terror shaking his hands and arms.
His eyes are watery, brows drawn together in bewilderment, either at me being there, or at whatever nightmare he was seeing.
“That’s going to get worse”, I explained.
I’ve never told a customer what the item they bought did. The few times I’ve ever been entangled with a customer and the item they bought I’ve always lied because I didn’t think they’d believe me. I lied to the woman in the station last year with the bracelet and I stole back the truth telling brooch that Marion purchased. This case was different. He’d had a taster of things to come if he kept wearing that cap.
Granted, I could’ve still lied, made up something about it being reserved for someone else, but I felt like I didn’t really need to do that this time. I offered to take it away and refund his money. Thankfully it hadn’t been that expensive or I probably would’ve lied.
He tore the cap from his head and practically threw it at me, like it’d burned him when he touched it. Eager for me to have it, he began to take a few steps back now that it was in my possession, as if proximity to it was the main cause of the issue. Mumbling his thanks, or an apology I wasn’t sure which, he began to walk quickly down the street away for us, turning around in terror every so often as if to check we weren’t following.
Triumphant, and a wee bit guilty, Reid and I walked back to the shop. During the short walk Reid finally mustered up the courage to say something to me, only it wasn’t about the rabbit. As gently as he was able with his gruff voice, he expressed his unease at me interfering with customers. Reid was raised to fear two things: the Madams, and Fate. If anyone interfered with Fate, then it would take its revenge.
Aye, and I bet if you didn’t eat your greens then the Madam would come and get you. What shite. I told him as much and pointed out that I’d interfered before and nothing bad had happened. It was an auld wives’ tale, something to keep children in line, like a tattie bogle. I’m also supposed to be the next Madam. Fate may not like normal people interfering with fate, but surely I get a pass? Apparently I do, because the sky is still up and the ground still beneath us.
A peculiar expression moved over his face, a tug of doubt and a flash of dread. He wasn’t convinced by my arguments, but what do you expect? He doesn’t know any better. He’s been told to fear the Madams and everything to do with them, including the shop and the remedies given out there. For him, the Madams are a last resort. Of course he’s going to think messing with things is bad.
When we returned to the shop the chess match was still ongoing, and neither Reid nor I received an acknowledgment that we’d returned. I was quite glad because it gave me an opportunity to squirrel into the shop and find a hiding spot for the cap of doom. Whether or not the things I hide in the shop actually stay hidden will be found out in time.
After stuffing it in a set of drawers so far back from the main pathway I was convinced no one would bother to clamber over the rest of the clutter to get to it, my job was done, and I allowed myself to feel smug, triumphant.
I’ve won. Again. I stopped terrible things happening to someone. It’s been a few days since I confiscated and hid the cap, and guess what? Nothing’s happened. The customer hasn’t returned to the shop, the world hasn’t started crumbling, rain still falls down and not up. I don’t understand what all the fuss was about, all of this “Fate is bad”, “you can’t interfere with Fate”, “Fate corrects itself” shite. I expected better from the Madam than just following orders blindly. I’ve managed to do what she never has, at least to my knowledge. I’ve saved people, whilst all she does is put these awful items out in the shop for the hapless to buy. I can start correcting her mistakes now, and when I’m Madam I can put a stop to them altogether.
Script – Scots
I triumphed over fate today, again. I dinnae understand what all the fuss was aboot before, all ae the dour warnings fae ma boss. The earth hasnae stopped turnin’, and the sun hasnse stopped rising every morning and setting every evening. Nothin bad has happened, even though I’ve “interfered wi’ fate”. I wouldnae really call it interferin, more cuttin’ it short.
All ae us were in the shop this day. It was Fionn’s turn tae entertain Chronos, and the two were in an intense miniature chess match that Reid and I’d become bored wi’ very quickly. We were in the middle ae a race tae find this pen that Reid claimed wrote predictions aboot the future. We’d made a bet because I didnae believe him so he was determined tae prove me wrong, and I made it a race because he crumbles under pressure and I was bored.
We never got tae finish the race as when the bell echoed roond the cavern we had tae stop our game and pretend like we were functional adults until the customer left. It was a lad that had come in, and frae the way he ignored us and picked an aisle I knew he wasnae a special customer.
I get this pit in ma stomach these days when a customer like that comes in, a normal one, someone that buys something seemingly innocuous but could easily dismantle their lives in less than a week. It takes a lot ae willpower no tae follow them roond the shop like a security guard after some teenagers, keepin’ an eye oot fae any item that may snag their attention. All I can do is wait at the counter until they’re finished, until after they’ve made a decision that could very well affect the rest ae their lives.
This lad decided he was gonnae buy a flat cap. I hadnae even realised we had one. Ye know the type, your grandpa used tae wear one. They look similar tae the caps that paper boys used tae wear at the beginnin’ ae the 20th century, but flatter, as the name implies. A bit posh in ma opinion, but each tae their own. I admit, I relaxed a bit when I saw it was a piece ae clothing. I dinnae know why. Perhaps I just didnae have the imagination tae think it could do something sinister.
Ma hope was short lived when I caught a glimpse ae Fionn’s face oot the corner ae ma eye. His skin had gone a few shades paler, and he was lookin’ at the cap in a similar way he’d looked at that brooch a few months back.
Apprehension.
Like a spark in a petrol station, this brief glance at ma familiar caused ma own anxiety tae begin spirallin’. What the hell did this hat do? Make ye go bald, injure ye in some way, attract bad people tae ye, cause ye tae be scammed and lose all ae your money? I couldnae wait until the customer left so I could ask.
I pinned ma dragon companion wi’ a demandin’ stare, hopin’ no fae the first time in ma life that I could burn holes through him until he told me. Feelin’, more than noticing ma eyes on him, he swallowed and began tae explain.
He wouldnae wish the cap on his worst enemy, he says. He’d known the original owner, over a century ago, and things hadnae ended well fae him. The cap caused the wearer tae hallucinate, although Fionn described it more like sleep paralysis, except the person was awake. They’d see things, nightmares, horrifying sights, and they wouldnae be able tae move until it was over. It could happen anywhere and at any time, whenever the cap felt like it. I wasnae sure if I wanted tae know whit had happened tae the original wearer, and tae ma disappointment Fionn was thorough.
An asylum. This might be the first time I’ve thought that death wouldae been kinder. No because ae the asylum, contrary tae popular belief they werenae actually as bad by the 20th century as people believe, wi’ a few exceptions, but because ae the losin’ your mind bit. Bein’ so bad as tae be confined tae an asylum fae the rest ae your life. All because ae a cap.
I really wonder who makes things like this. Where do these items come from? Why? Whit purpose is this servin? Surely the person who made it is already deid by now. So ye got your revenge, why do these things live on after the creator has gone? Presumin’ they are gone at all, perhaps the Madams and familiars arenae the only ones with an unusual lifespan. Yet another ‘hing I dinnae want tae hink aboot.
I really did have the best ae intentions wi’ the cap and the customer. I wasnae feelin’ great after whit Fionn had told me it did, but the Madam’s warnings were still ringin’ in ma ears. Dinnae interfere wi’ fate. Dinnae interfere. I know I had before, but that had only been a few times, and I’d made an exception. Maybe I’d just got lucky.
I tried tae tell maself this fae the rest ae the day. I lost the race and the bet wi’ Reid because I was so distracted. It turns oot he was tellin’ the truth, sort of. This pen did make predictions, it’s just that most were wrong, and the rest only really made sense in retrospect. More riddles than anything substantial.
The customer issue got even harder tae ignore when the wee rabbit reappeared. Ye remember, the small brown one wi’ white cotton tail that likes tae try and get trampled at night clubs. This time it wasnae movin’ much, but waitin’ by the door like a dog left ootside ae a shop whilst the owner gets their mornin’ paper. I knew it wouldnae go away until I acknowledged it, and I knew it wanted me tae follow it.
It didnae take me long after its appearance tae build up ma courage tae act. True, I may have got lucky wi’ Rowan, but whit if I got lucky this time too? I mean there was always the possibility the Madam was exaggeratin’ aboot fate, surely it’s no so petty as tae gee’ a shite aboot some randomer buyin a cap?
I took Reid aside, ignorin’ his gloatin’ face as he twiddled ma fiver between his fingers, and told him whit I wanted tae do. It didnae fill me wi’ confidence when the smugness drained frae his face, replaced by the crease ae his heavy brow that told me he was unsure. I whisper ma reasoning, no’ that I think I really had tae. Fionn and Chronos were still so deep in their chess match I’m no sure they heard anythin’ but the scrape ae the wood as the pieces were moved across the board.
Reid only looks partially convinced, but he can tell I’ve made up ma mind. I’m goin’ after the customer with or withoot him, and he decided he’s gonnae have tae keep me oot ae trouble.
Before he changes his mind, I drag him over tae the counter tae interrupt the match, although I predictably fail. I tell Fionn and Chronos that Reid and I are goin’ tae get a coffee, and ask if they want anythin’. Fionn flails his hand lethargically as he shakes his heid and tells us he hopes there isnae a queue at the post office.
Realisin’ he must no really have heard me I steer Reid oot ae the shop, the brown rabbit the first one tae hop oot ae the open door. Once we’re free, Reid asks how we’re going tae find this customer. I smile and point tae the rabbit a few feet ahead ae us. He glances in that direction. His frown deepens, bemused, before transforming intae a concerned scowl as he turns back tae me. I can tell he doesnae really know whit tae say, whether tae confront it or pretend like I’m no crazy. It confirmed tae me that I’m the only one who can see the rabbit.
After tellin’ him it didnae matter, I began tae follow the rabbit as it hopped doon the street, past the shops and in between the pedestrians. Gingerly Reid walked at ma side, still contemplatin’ whether tae interfere. The customer cannae have got that far frae the shop, and after five minutes ae walkin’, trying no tae lose sight ae ma guide whilst avoidin bumpin intae people, I see him in the distance.
He’s put the tweed cap on, and he’s waitin’ at a bus stop wi a few other people. They’re all lookin’ at their phones, scrollin’ through their feeds or swipin’ on stranger’s pictures. But the customer is starin’ aff intae space, a glassy eyed look engulfin’ his features. The closer we get the more jarrin’ it becomes. The world is movin’, the cars honk at each other, the cyclists whizz by in their designated lane, others are manoeuvring round the people waitin’ fae the bus, but this customer looks as though someone’s pressed pause. If someone took a picture, he’d be the only one in focus.
The closer Reid and I get the less glassy his features look. Rather than vacancy its terror, as though there’s a horrific crime happening wherever his eyes are looking. There’s a bank across the road, in the direction ae his petrified stare, but everythin’s normal. No robberies, no assaults, no murder or car accident. I remember what Fionn said, aboot the waking night terrors, and wish he hadnae decided tae put the cap on.
The rabbit disappears once we’ve reached the customer. Reid stays back cautiously whilst I approach, touching the lad lightly on the shoulder. He blinks, the focus returns tae his eyes, and he’s lookin’ roond as if expectin’ whitever he was seein’ tae still be there. His body slackens, and after a few moments I see the tremors ae terror shakin’ his hands and arms.
His eyes are watery, brows drawn together in bewilderment, either at me bein’ there, or at whitever nightmare he was seein’.
“That’s gonnae get worse”, I explained.
I’ve never told a customer whit the item they bought did. The few times I’ve ever been entangled wi’ a customer and the item they bought I’ve always lied because I didnae ‘hink they’d believe me. I lied tae the woman in the station last year wi’ the bracelet and I stole back the truth tellin’ brooch that Rowan purchased. This case was different. He’d had a taster ae things tae come if he kept wearin’ that cap.
Granted, I couldae still lied, made up somethin’ aboot it bein’ reserved fae someone else, but I felt like I didnae really need tae do that this time. I offered tae take it away and refund his money. Thankfully it hadnae been that expensive or I probably wouldae lied.
He tore the cap frae his heid and practically threw it at me, like it’d burned him when he touched it. Eager fae me tae have it, he began tae take a few steps back noo that it was in ma possession, as if proximity tae it was the main cause ae the issue. Mumblin’ his thanks, or an apology I wasnae sure which, he began tae walk quickly doon the street away fae us, turnin’ roond in terror every so often as if tae check we werenae followin’.
Triumphant, and a wee bit guilty, Reid and I walked back tae the shop. Durin’ the short walk Reid finally mustered up the courage tae say somethin’ tae me, only it wasnae aboot the rabbit. As gently as he was able wi’ his gruff voice, he expressed his unease at me interferin’ wi’ customers. Reid was raised tae fear two things; the Madams, and Fate. If anyone interfered wi’ Fate, then it would take its revenge.
Aye, and I bet if ye didnae eat your greens then the Madam would come and get ye. What shite. I told him as much, and pointed oot that I’d interfered before and nothin’ bad had happened. It was an auld wives tale, somethin’ tae keep children in line, like a tattie bogle. I’m also supposed tae be the next Madam. Fate may no like normal people interferin’ wi fate, but surely I get a pass? Apparently I do because the sky is still up, and the ground still beneath us.
A peculiar expression moved over his face, a tug ae doubt and a flash ae dread. He wasne convinced by ma arguments, but whit do ye expect? He doesnae know any better. He’s been told tae fear the Madams and everythin’ tae do wi’ them, includin’ the shop and the remedies given oot there. Fae him, the Madams are a last resort. Of course he’s gonnae ‘hink messin’ wi things is bad.
When we returned tae the shop the chess match was still ongoing, and neither Reid nor I received an acknowledgment that we’d returned. I was quite glad because it gave me an opportunity tae squirrel intae the shop and find a hidin’ spot fae the cap ae doom. Whether or no’ the things I hide in the shop actually stay hidden will be found oot in time.
After stuffin’ it in a set ae drawers so far back frae the main pathway I was convinced no one would bother tae clamber over the rest ae the clutter tae get tae it, ma job was done, and I allowed maself tae feel smug, triumphant.
I’ve won. Again. I stopped terrible things happenin’ tae someone. It’s been a few days since I confiscated and hid the cap, and guess whit? Nothin’s happened. The customer hasnae returned tae the shop, the world hasnae started crumbling, rain still falls doon and no up. I dinnae understand whit all the fuss was aboot, all ae this “Fate is bad”, “ye cannae interfere wi’ Fate”, “fate corrects itself” shite. I expected better frae the Madam than just followin’ orders blindly. I’ve managed tae do whit she never has, at least tae ma knowledge. I’ve saved people, whilst all she does is put these awful items oot in the shop fae the hapless tae buy. I can start correctin’ her mistakes noo, and when I’m Madam I can put a stop tae them altogether.