Scots vocabulary
(old) Hen – Hen is a Glaswegian word for a woman of any age. Usually used in greeting, such as “Are you alright, hen?”, “What can I get you, hen?”. It’s mainly used by strangers to people they’re not that familiar with.
Decked/To deck – a Scottish slang word for a fall/to fall down. Example; “Did you see the way he decked it?”
Story
Despite encouragement from Reid, it took me a while to work up the courage to confront the monster that I’d created. I don’t mean that, Fionn isn’t a monster, but I certainly built him up to be one in my head. I hated that I was relieved he was spending more time in storage than the shop. When a situation or conversation promises to be hard; avoid, avoid, and avoid some more.
Despite his promise, Reid hadn’t been in since we’d had that conversation, but it’d only been a few days.
As I was trying to build a script in my head of what I’d say to Fionn when I did eventually grow enough of a spine to confront him, the bell above the door rang and a confused looking customer walked in, white business card nestled in their fingers. I expected to see the usual glance of wonder, the slight glistening of doubt. This customer’s eyebrows were drawn into a very bemused frown, almost like they thought they were in the wrong place.
This small shift in facial expression threw me for a few seconds. Chronos, lolling on the glass counter attempting to paw something off onto the floor, even perked up at this unusual reaction.
Disoriented, the customer wobbled their way to the counter, glancing down at the card in their hands every few seconds like it’d change or disappear. They smile at me, unsure, before placing the business card on the glass counter. I’ve seen so many of these over the years that even before it snaps onto the scratched glass, I know something’s off about this card. There’s too much writing, too much detail. The font is wrong, the colour of the text. Christ, even the paper it’s printed on is cheap and already beginning to curl at the edges. I may have seen too many of the Madam’s business cards.
Before Chronos can swipe it away like it’s an errant mouse I pick it up to inspect. Although the word Madam is mentioned on the original cards, that’s it, there’s nothing else. The one the customer had brought in had an address, one that was on the other side of the city and not the street which the shop occupied. If it hadn’t been for the “Madam Norna” at the top I’d have thought this person was meant to turn up at the hovel Madam Anora dwells in.
I don’t really know what else to do, and Chronos is unhelpfully quiet. The customer has come to see a Madam in an antique shop, and by the stiff smile plastered on their face I don’t think I can just turn them away. So, I take them upstairs to see my boss. They’re just like any other customer, a weird problem that has an even weirder solution. They leave with thanks, hopefully never to return.
After they’ve gone, I dig out the card they’d brought in and show Madam Norna, wondering if she has any clues. Even if she does her facial expression, as ever, remains stoic. It’s not like she’d tell me anyway. She says she doesn’t know who or what it is and tells me Chronos and I should go and investigate.
Chronos…can leave the shop?
I hesitated for a few moments, staring intently into her eyes, waiting for the punchline. I should know by now that it never comes. For the first time, Chronos and I were going on an adventure.
I went downstairs to get the wee shite and tell him what the rest of his day was shaping up to be. He wasn’t too happy when I suggested we buy a harness for him at the pet shop across the street so we could go walkies. I wasn’t too happy when he smugly explained to me that he’d be carried when necessary. Wee fucker.
Walking down the street with a cat at my side doesn’t feel like the weirdest thing I’d done, but it probably is. Rather than take a few buses, it was decided, by the wee shite, that we’d take the train instead. This was the portion where he demanded carrying and we both sat being shaken by the train whilst I swatted away curious passengers before Chronos could do it, drawing blood in the process. I was quite glad he was black; a lot of the older passengers gave us both a wide berth. I even heard some old hen fret over where she’d put her lucky ring.
Eventually it’s our stop, and being carried like he’s an emperor, Chronos and I exit the station and eventually find our way to the address listed on the business card the customer left. I couldn’t tell if Chronos was as surprised as I was by the place actually being an antique shop. A real one. Maybe not real, but normal. I bet the things inside wouldn’t kill someone if they bought them.
I was a bit disoriented, like the wind had been taken out my sails. I’d expected this to be a shady wee shop, with a shady Madam imposter, who the real Madam Norna would sort out in what way she wished. There was a bloody café next door to this quaint looking antique shop. I dare not say it was nicer on the outside than the actual shop, even though it’s true.
I decided to go inside and held the door open for Chronos to follow me. There was no sign saying dogs, or animals, weren’t allowed, and even if there was, good luck arguing with the wee shite.
Sterile was the word that came to mind. A place cleaned so often that its soul has been swept up with the dust and dirt. Everything had a place; everything had an order. There was space to move, sections that were labelled and signposted. Floors that were clean, corners free of spiderwebs. There were no nooks to hide away in, no items that’d catch your eye because they were out of place, nothing that would beckon or call. I expected to feel magic, to feel the pull of something I couldn’t explain, the echoes of history, time, and memories. I could feel nothing but the boredom that echoed around me off the clean floors, pristine mirrors, and polished glass. This was the shop with no one to make it messy.
The one similarity between this shop and the real one was the door labelled private that was visible behind the wooden counter. There had been no bell on the door, but a few minutes after we’d entered this door opened and a woman, dressed as a tribute act to Madam Norna, appeared and beamed at me when her eyes found me amidst the order of this shop.
She greeted me cheerfully, not realising that Chronos was on the floor at my side, and introduced herself as Madam Norna, before asking me what she could help me with. Chronos nearly had to pick my jaw up. What the fuck was this woman doing?
Assuming my silence was the overwhelmed kind, the kind some of the customers to the real shop experienced, she assured me that no problem was too weird, no situation too unusual, she had a remedy for them all. Did she? Because I was finding that hard to believe.
The more I began to connect the dots, the more sinister this entire thing was. Why can nothing ever be funny? Were customers coming here with their real problems, and she was giving them fake remedies? Was this allowed? Wasn’t she interfering with their fates if she did that? Who had she inadvertently harmed with this charade?
Fake Madam Norna began to look concerned when I still hadn’t said anything, and taking his cue, Chronos decided to join in by jumping onto the counter, and I saw the flash of recognition in her eyes as soon as she saw his black tail swishing back and forth.
The concern evaporated from her expression, and she stared at me with fear screaming from the depths of her mind.
She immediately claimed she didn’t mean it, that it was a joke, a prank, no harm done, please don’t sue her. Christ, that was going to be the least of her worries. I questioned why she was pretending to be the Madam, what good was coming from this pretence?
There wasn’t much money in the antique business, according to the fake Madam. People had less money to spend, people weren’t coming as much, and the few clients she arranged special sales for were dwindling. The business was struggling to stay afloat, so she’d had to do something. When one of her pals began having a strange problem the real Madam’s card had come into this pal’s possession, and they’d gone to the real shop together. Whilst waiting for her pal to finish with my boss the fake Madam had soaked everything about the real shop in, noticed the customers buying things, and noticing how her pal came out burden free, with her prescribed solution working a treat.
Assuming it was all a scam and that my boss had just been lucky with her solution, or it was some sort of coincidence or placebo effect on her pal, the fake Madam put her plan into action. She’d printed out similar looking business cards with her shop’s address and made sure they were in circulation. Soon enough people began to arrive at her shop wanting her help with strange problems, and she was more than willing to give them the same service she assumed we had. A forgery. Business had been looking up ever since.
Before I could launch into a tirade about how she didn’t understand what she was messing with, how she was hurting people more than she appreciated, or to forget all of that and encourage her to stop, I felt a gentle breeze on the back of my neck as the door opened behind me.
I briefly glanced around to see an older woman in such a bad state I couldn’t help but pat my pockets for my phone, assuming we’d be needing an ambulance. There was no blood or anything, but her eyes were bloodshot, her fingertips red raw where she had been picking or biting them. She appeared manic, unhinged, so I took a few steps away. Even Chronos got up, his fur standing on end, mirroring the tension in the shop.
Taking the words right out of my mouth, this older woman accused the fake Madam of being a liar and that her “help” had only made things worse. There were a few seconds where I thought I might have conjured this woman, and honestly, I’m still not completely convinced I didn’t.
The fake Madam began to stutter out an apology, but this either wasn’t quick enough or wasn’t good enough to this disgruntled customer as she began charging towards where the fake Madam stood. I didn’t know if she had a weapon on her, and I didn’t want to find out because Chronos and I were standing around. It was only the shallowest thought, the stupid inappropriate kind you get when you’re in a serious situation but your brain doesn’t want to process.
If only there was a rug on the floor I could pull and trip this woman up.
There was a clatter of limbs on the wooden floor, the rattle of China plates in glass cabinets glancing off each other with the small earthquake caused by the woman’s fall. There was no rug, nothing sticking out or on the floor, nothing that could reasonably have decked this woman, but there she was, face first on the polished wood.
Seeing an opportunity, I went and helped pick the woman up off the floor, and after rummaging around in my pockets procured the real Madam’s minimalist business card and promised that if she went there, she’d get the help she needed. Disoriented and embarrassed after her fall, she nodded her head dazedly before leaving. Don’t ask where I got the card from, there’d been a lot of things appearing out of thin air that day.
I eventually turned to the fake Madam and warned her if she carried on there’d be more irate customers bent on revenge. The next time, I wouldn’t be around to help diffuse the situation. I didn’t mention Fate, or the dangerous consequences of interfering in its business, I think the disgruntled customer had made my point quite well.
She fell over herself reassuring me that she’d stop, swearing on her mother’s life she’d never be so stupid again. I couldn’t tell if that’d always be true, but at least she knew what the consequences would be if she carried on and if she was stupid enough to carry on, then that was on her.
Before Chronos and I left to return to the strangeness of the real shop, I checked this fake one for an owl, but only saw a stuffed one placed behind a glass cabinet. It’s glassy eyes too blank to be the ones I was looking for. This woman didn’t know how lucky she was.
On the way back to the real shop I began to wonder if the reason why Chronos had been sent with me and not Reid was because the Madam either knew or assumed I’d need a bit more muscle for protection. Was it the Madam who had set up the disgruntled customer? Things lined up a bit too nicely.
Upon arriving in the shop, I was greeted by the problem I had created for myself. Fionn. It would’ve been easy to walk past, to make a casual greeting and get on with my day, ignoring the problems that lurked in the unspoken words. But I’d just witnessed what happens when you let things go too far. Reid was right, we needed to talk.
Fionn and I sat in one of the many quiet nooks of the shop, the one I used to go to when things were bad, almost overwhelming. He was antsy, his eyes darted every which way, and his knee kept bobbing up and down like he wanted to get up and sprint. All this pent-up energy, like a dog who hasn’t been walked, seeped out in anyway it could.
I apologised to Fionn. I was sorry for what I’d done, for the deal I’d made. I confessed I hadn’t realised at the time how selfish it’d been, how much frustration and resentment it would cause. I’d wanted to keep him, I’d not wanted him to die, because that was all I had thought about. Me.
There was silence. His leg was still. Something prickled my eyes, but I blinked it back. This wasn’t about me.
He puts his head in his hands and takes a long, deep breath out, before looking at me straight in the eye and calling me an idiot. He’s not smiling but he’s not angry either. Fionn admits that things have been rough, that some days he’s frustrated and angry, trapped and suffocated. Those days he doesn’t like me very much, he blames me for his captivity, for his loss of freedom. The other days he’s glad to be alive and not food for the worms and maggots. He’s conflicted, pulled between hatred and anger, gratitude and being indebted that I saved his life. I begged Death themselves to save Fionn, stared one of the most powerful beings in existence in the face and begged for clemency, for Fionn. How could he ever repay that? He was never just angry at me, but at himself.
He reached out and took my hand, which I wish he hadn’t done because keeping those tears at bay was proven a task too difficult for me. He admitted thar despite his feelings, whichever end of the scale they were on, he was still my familiar, and still my pal. He needed more time to acclimatise, to sort himself out. Some days he’ll be fine, some days he’s going to be an arsehole, but he’ll be an arsehole who loves me, beneath it all.
I wish I could tell you that a weight was lifted off my shoulders, that I unloaded the burden of guilt. But that too, is going to take time. The air is cleared, for now.
Scots-ish language version
Despite encouragement fae Reid it took me a while tae work up the courage tae confront the monster that I’d created. I dinnae mean that, Fionn isnae a monster, but I certainly built him up tae be one in ma heid. I hated that I was relieved he was spendin’ more time in storage than the shop. When a situation or conversation promises tae be hard, avoid, avoid, and avoid some more.
Despite his promise, Reid hadnae been in since we’d had that conversation, but it’d only been a few days.
As I was tryin’ tae build a script in ma heid ae whit I’d say tae Fionn when I did eventually grow enough ae a spine tae confront him, the bell above the door rang and a confused lookin’ customer walked in, white business card nestled in their fingers. I expected tae see the usual glance ae wonder, the slight glistenin’ ae doubt. This customer’s eyebrows were drawn intae a very bemused frown, almost like they thought they were in the wrong place.
This small shift in facial expression threw me fae a few seconds. Chronos, lolling on the glass counter attemptin’ tae paw somethin’ aff ontae the floor, even perked up at this unusual reaction.
Disoriented, the customer wobbled their way tae the counter, glancin’ doon at the card in their hands every few seconds like it’d change or disappear. They smile at me, unsure, before placing the white business card on the glass counter. I’ve seen so many ae these over the years that even before it snaps ontae the scratched glass I know somethin’s aff aboot this card. There’s too much writing, too much detail. The font is wrong, the colour ae the text. Christ, even the paper it’s printed on is cheap and already beginnin’ tae curl at the edges. I may have seen too many ae the Madam’s business cards.
Before Chronos can swipe it away like it’s an errant mouse I pick it up tae inspect. Although the word Madam is mentioned on the original cards, that’s it, there’s nothin’ else. The one the customer had brought in had an address, one that was on the other side ae the city and not the street which the shop occupied. If it hadnae been for the “Madam Norna” at the top I’d have thought this person was meant tae turn up at the hovel Madam Anora dwells in.
I dinnae really know whit else tae do, and Chronos is unhelpfully quiet. The customer has come tae see a Madam in an antique shop, and by the stiff smile plastered on their face I dinnae think I can just turn them away. So, I take them upstairs tae see ma boss. They’re just like any other customer, a weird problem that has an even weirder solution. They leave with thanks, hopefully never tae return.
After they’ve gone I dig oot the card they’d brought in and show Madam Norna, wonderin’ if she has any clues. Even if she does her facial expression, as ever, remains stoic. It’s no’ like she’d tell me anyway. She says she doesnae know who or whit it is, and tells me Chronos and I should go and investigate.
Chronos…can leave the shop?
I hesitated fae a few moments, starin’ intently intae her eyes, waitin’ fae the punchline. I should know by noo that it never comes. Fae the first time, Chronos and I were goin’ on an adventure.
I went doonstairs tae get the wee shite and tell him whit the rest ae his day was shapin’ up tae be. He wasnae too happy when I suggested we buy a harness fae him at the pet shop across the street so we could go walkies. I wasnae too happy when he smugly explained tae me that he’d be carried when necessary. Wee fucker.
Walkin’ doon the street wi’ a cat at ma side doesnae feel like the weirdest ‘hing I’d done, but it probably is. Rather than take a few buses, it was decided, by the wee shite, that we’d take the train instead. This was the portion where he demanded carrying and we both sat being shaken’ by the train whilst I swatted away curious passengers before Chronos could do it, drawin’ blood in the process. I was quite glad he was black, a lot ae the older passengers gave us both a wide berth. I even heard some old hen fret over where she’d put her lucky ring.
Eventually it’s our stop, and bein carried like he’s an emperor, Chronos and I exit the station and eventually find our way to the address listed on the business card the customer left. I couldnae tell if Chronos was as surprised as I was by the place actually bein’ an antique shop. A real one. Maybe no’ real, but normal. I bet the things inside wouldnae kill someone if they bought it.
I was a bit disoriented, like the wind had been taken oot ma sails. I’d expected this tae be a shady wee shop, wi a shady Madam imposter, who the real Madam Norna would sort oot in whitever way she wished. There was a bloody café next door tae this quaint lookin’ antique shop. I dare no say it was nicer on the ootside than the actual shop, even though it’s true.
I decided tae go inside and held the door open fae Chronos tae follow me. There was no sign sayin’ dogs, or animals, werenae allowed, and even if there was, good luck arguin’ wi’ the wee shite.
Sterile was the word that came tae mind. A place cleaned so often that its soul has been swept up wi’ the dust and dirt. Everythin’ had a place, everythin’ had an order. There was space tae move, sections that were labelled and signposted. Floors that were clean, corners free ae spiderwebs. There were no nooks tae hide away in, no items that’d catch your eye because they were oot ae place, nothin’ that would beckon or call. I expected tae feel magic, tae feel the pull ae somethin’ I couldnae explain, the echoes ae history, time, memories. I could feel nothin’ but the boredom that echoed aroond me aff the clean floors, pristine mirrors, and polished glass. This was the shop wi’ no one tae make it messy.
The one similarity between this shop and the real one was the door labelled private that was visible behind the wooden counter. There had been no bell on the door, but a few minutes after we’d entered this door opened and a woman, dressed as a tribute act tae Madam Norna, appeared and beamed at me when her eyes found me amidst the order ae this shop.
She greeted me cheerfully, no realisin that Chronos was on the floor at ma side, and introduced herself as Madam Norna, before askin’ me what she could help me wi’. Chronos nearly had tae pick ma jaw up. Whit the fuck was this woman doin’?
Assumin’ ma silence was the overwhelmed kind, the kind some ae the customers tae the real shop experienced, she assured me that no problem was too weird, no situation too unusual, she had a remedy fae them all. Did she, because I was findin’ that hard tae believe.
The more I began tae connect the dots, the more sinister this entire thing was. Why can nothin’ ever be funny? Were customers comin’ here wi’ their real problems, and she was givin’ them fake remedies? Was this allowed? Wasnae she interferin’ wi’ their fates if she did that? Who had she inadvertently harmed wi’ this charade?
Fake Madam norna began tae look concerned when I still hadnae said anything, and takin his cue, Chronos decided tae join in by jumpin’ ontae the counter, and I saw the flash ae recognition in her eyes as soon as she saw his black tail swishin’ back and forth.
The concern evaporated fae her expression, and she stared at me wi’ fear screamin’ fae the depths ae her mind.
She immediately claimed she didnae mean it, that it was a joke, a prank, no harm done, please dinnae sue her. Christ, that was gonnae be the least ae her worries. I questioned why she was pretendin’ tae be the Madam, whit good was comin’ fae this pretence?
There wasnae much money in the antique business, accordin’ tae the fake Madam. People had less money tae spend, people werenae comin’ as much, and the few clients she arranged special sales for were dwindlin’. The business was strugglin’ tae stay afloat, so she’d had tae do somethin’. When one ae her pals began havin’ a strange problem, the real Madam’s card had come intae this pal’s possession, and they’d gone tae the real shop together. Whilst waitin’ fae her pal tae finish wi’ ma boss the fake Madam had soaked everythin aboot’ the real shop in, noticed the customers buyin’ things, and noticing how her pal came oot burden free, wi her prescribed solution workin’ a treat.
Assumin’ it was all a scam and that ma boss had just been lucky wi her solution, or it was some sort ae coincidence or placebo effect on her pal, the fake Madam put her plan intae action. She’d printed oot similar lookin’ business cards wi her shop’s address and made sure they were in circulation. Soon enough people began tae arrive at her shop wantin’ her help wi’ strange problems, and she was more than willing tae give them the same service she assumed we had. A forgery. Business had been lookin’ up ever since.
Before I could launch intae a tirade aboot how she didnae understand what she was messin’ wi’, how she was hurtin’ people more than she appreciated, or tae forget all ae that and encourage her tae stop, I felt a gentle breeze on the back ae ma neck as the door opened behind me.
I briefly glanced aroond tae see an older woman in such a bad state I couldnae help but pat ma pockets fae ma phone, assumin’ we’d be needin’ an ambulance. There was no blood or anythin’, but her eyes were bloodshot, her fingertips red raw where she had been pickin’ or bitin’ them. She appeared manic, unhinged, so I took a few steps away. Even Chronos got up, his fur standin’ on end, mirrorin’ the tension in the shop.
Takin’ the words right oot ae ma mouth, this older woman accused the fake Madam ae bein’ a liar, and that her “help” had only made things worse. There were a few seconds where I thought I might have conjured this woman, and honestly I’m still no completely convinced I didnae.
The fake Madam began tae stutter oot an apology, but this either wasnae quick enough or wasnase good enough tae this disgruntled customer as she began chargin’ towards where the fake Madam stood. I didnae know if she had a weapon on her, and I didnae want tae find oot because Chronos and I were standin’ aroond. It was only the shallowest thought, the stupid inappropriate kind ye get when you’re in a serious situation but your brain doesnae want tae process.
If only there was a rug on the floor I could pull and trip this woman up.
There was a clatter ae limbs on the wooden floor, the rattle ae china plates in glass cabinets glancin’ aff each other wi’ the small earthquake caused by the woman’s fall. There was no rug, nothin’ stickin’ oot or on the floor, nothin’ that could reasonably have decked this woman, but there she was, face first on the polished wood.
Seein’ an opportunity, I went and helped pick the woman up aff the floor, and after rummagin’ aroond in ma pockets procured the real Madam’s minimalist business card, and promised that if she went there, she’d get the help she needed. Disoriented and embarrassed after her fall, she nodded her heid dazedly before leavin’. Dinnae ask where I got the card fae, there’d been a lot ae things appearin’ oot ae thin air that day.
I eventually turned tae the fake Madam and warned her if she carried on there’d be more irate customers bent on revenge. The next time, I wouldnae be aroond tae help diffuse the situation. I didnae mention Fate, or the dangerous consequences ae interferin’ in its business, I think the disgruntled customer had made ma point quite well.
She fell over herself reassurin’ me that she’d stop, swearin’ on her mother’s life she’d never be so stupid again. I couldnae tell if that’d always be true, but at least she knew whit the consequences would be if she carried on and if she was stupid enough tae carry on, then that was on her.
Before Chronos and I left tae return tae the strangeness ae the real shop, I checked this fake one fae an owl, but only saw a stuffed one placed behind a glass cabinet. It’s glassy eyes too blank tae be the ones I was lookin’ fae. This woman didnae know how lucky she was.
On the way back tae the real shop I began tae wonder if the reason why Chronos had been sent wi’ me and no Reid was because the Madam either knew or assumed I’d need a bit more muscle fae protection. Was it the Madam who had set up the disgruntled customer? Things lined up a bit too nicely.
Upon arrivin’ in the shop I was greeted by the problem I had created fae maself. Fionn. It wouldae been easy tae walk past, tae make a casual greetin’ and get on wi’ ma day, ignorin’ the problems that lurked in the unspoken words. But I’d just witnessed whit happens when ye let things go too far. Reid was right, we needed tae talk.
Fionn and I sat in one ae the many quiet nooks ae the shop, the one I used tae go to when things were bad, almost overwhelming. He was antsy, his eyes darted every which way, and his knee kept bobbing up and doon like he wanted tae get up and sprint. All this pent up energy, like a dog who hasnae been walked, seeped oot in anyway it could.
I apologised tae Fionn. I was sorry for whit I’d done, fae the deal I’d made. I confessed I hadnae realised at the time how selfish it’d been, how much frustration and resentment it would cause. I’d wanted tae keep him, I’d no’ wanted him tae die, because that was all I had thought about. Me.
There was silence. His leg was still. Somethin’ prickled ma eyes but I blinked it back. This wasnae aboot me.
He puts his heid in his hands and takes a long, deep breath oot, before lookin’ at me straight in the eye and callin’ me an ijit. He’s no smilin’ but he’s no angry either. Fionn admits that things have been rough, that some days he’s frustrated and angry, trapped and suffocated. Those days he doesnae like me very much, he blames me fae his captivity, fae his loss ae freedom. The other days he’s glad tae be alive and no food fae the worms and maggots. He’s conflicted, pulled between hatred and anger, gratitude and bein’ indebted that I saved his life. I begged Death themselves tae save Fionn, stared one ae the most powerful beings in existence in the face and begged fae clemency, fae Fionn. How could he ever repay that? He was never just angry at me, but at himself.
He reached oot and took ma hand, which I wish he hadnae done because keepin’ those tears at bay was provin’ a task too difficult fae me. he admitted thar despite his feelings, whichever end ae the scale they were on, he was still ma familiar, and still ma pal. He needed more time tae acclimatise, tae sort himself oot. Some days he’ll be fine, some days he’s gonnae be an arsehole, but he’ll be an arsehole who loves me, beneath it all.
I wish I could tell you that a weight was lifted aff ma shoulders, that I unloaded the burden ae guilt. But that too, is gonnae take time. The air is cleared, fae now.