Tell Me a Story

Toilet Break

Martin had become lost in his story; his eyes clouding over and his mind taken completely by Adam and Mary and the beating drums to the point that, if Jake had wanted to get away, he could probably have nicked the key for the door and legged it without Martin ever coming around.

But, as Martin paused for breath and allowed himself to be taken out of the story, just as Adam was falling down into the well, he saw Jake again, sitting on the floor, as he had been before Martin had become lost in his own little world. The only difference was that now Jake was squirming uncomfortably, as if a nasty creepy crawly was moving around inside his trousers.

“Feeling alright, kid?” Martin asked with a nasty smile, “I’ve not even got to the scary part yet. Would you like me to stop?” He laughed a little and leant even further forward, looking into the boy’s eyes – searching for the fear.

“I’m not scared,” Jake said with a rough shake of his head, “I just need a wee is all. Can I go?”

It seemed true enough. The boy’s eyes certainly didn’t seem to be too full of fear. That irritated Martin more than it probably should have and for a few moments he considered not letting him go piss as some sort of punishment. Of course it he did wet himself, Martin would suffer almost as greatly and he didn’t want to live in a pissy flat – it was bad enough already.

Instead he nodded his head towards the loo: “be quick,” he muttered in a fast, low voice that Jake had trouble making out. He watched the kid scurry off quick to the toilet and decided it could be taken as a compliment that he had waited so long to ask to go to the toilet, rather than interrupt the story. If Martin hadn’t allowed himself back into the real world then Jake may well have wet himself, right on the floor.

But he wasn’t scared, and that irked Martin. Nothing particularly scary had happened yet, he supposed, but still the thought of those drums… they always freaked him out. This kid was obviously made of sturdier stuff than he had initially thought and he would probably have to amp up the finale if he was going to get the sort of response he wanted.

But why did scaring the boy matter so much? He was a means to an end, and hopefully would be gone within the next few hours, so why go to the trouble of terrifying him?

Martin swatted his hand in the air, as though it was an invisible man asking the awkward questions, not his own mind. The truth of it was he didn’t know why he was so intent on scaring the boy. Maybe it was because he had expected to have complete power over a terrified little boy, and he currently didn’t feel like that was happening. In fact the relationship felt quite balanced and that made Martin feel incredibly uneasy. He needed to gain some sort of power over the boy and the best way to do that was to scare him.

And if the story doesn’t work, you can always use your fists, right?

Now it was Martin who shifted uneasily on the edge of the bed. The boy meant nothing to him – just s damn kid – and if he had to get a little heavy handed to show who was in charge then why not? It was no more than the arrogant little brat deserved, he was sure.

But still it didn’t sit right, and he could only hope that the end of his story had the desired effect on the boy, or he would have to consider resorting to methods that he would rather avoid.

The toilet door opened, then, and Martin was pulled away from his thoughts and the troublesome devil’s advocate that seemed to live in his head at all time. He took a deep breath and tried to arrange his thoughts and get back into the story, so he would be ready to kick off as soon as possible.

“Thank you,” Jake said, politely as you like, sitting down on the floor again and straightening up his trousers which were not quite sitting right on his hips as they had been before.

“Whatever,” Martin muttered, not wanting to show he was touched by the boys innocent politeness, even if it was, as they said, common courtesy. He cleared his throat and tried to put on a scary face that in no way succeeded. He leant forward again and spoke quietly: “Are you ready for the scary part?”

Jake nodded eagerly, and Martin was given confidence again that, if he could really draw the boy into the story, then he could give him a right good scare.

“So down the well little Adam fell,” Martin continued, “and then, where he thought he might fall forever, he found ground and he landed with a sickening and heart stopping crack…”