The Demon Boy

Day Twenty-Four - Midday and Afternoon

     Casper wanders the streets of Glenholm more or less aimlessly, turning one corner and the next, no real direction in mind, the only purpose being to waste time. Doesn't feel right to sit down, to stay still for a single minute. He can't settle, as unsettled as he is. Being in one place, much less out in the open, for too long makes him exposed. He knows it isn't rational, he knows he isn't making sense, but he can't help the way he feels. The curious glances he's getting from behind curtains isn't doing him any favours. He winds up avoiding the larger roads almost entirely, simply because there are more windows facing out along them. The center of his corkscrewing route, however, always remains the same: the post office.

     Obsessively, compulsively, inevitably, he'll circle back around from wherever his meanderings have taken him and find himself somewhere within the vicinity the post. If that delivery comes today, he can't afford to miss it. And if it doesn't, if it's delayed again, or it's come and gone already, or it isn't coming at all, well...

     There's another one of those things he doesn't want to think about.

     When the hours tick by and he spirals back again, and again, and three more times for good luck, his doubts start circling like vultures. Even the most willfully ignorant buffoon couldn't ignore them. What he needs is a distraction. Something to keep him from loosing his head. The town pub, conveniently located in plain sight from where Casper's skulking, offers to be a promising candidate.

     Opening is still an hour off, which is just as well. He has yesterday's buns still tucked away in his pockets. He's not here for the food for once. He just wants a little chat. Make up with Alicia, if at all possible; if she's come to his senses and isn't going to jump down his throat again.

     The front door's locked. Odd. Never been locked before, even when he first made a habit of coming in before hours. Another symptom of the unease left by Smith's men, or is it because of Casper?

     He knocks instead of strolling in like he'd prefer to. It takes a long time for someone to get the door. Casper knocks anew, more urgently this time. Standing out here is giving him hives.

     When Alicia finally gets around to answering him, she isn't happy to see him. "Are you here to say you're sorry?" She asks.

     No, Casper is not. He is feeling singularly unapologetic, in fact.

     Everything goes downhill from there.

     One thing leads to another, things better left unspoken are said. The situation devolves particularly swiftly when Casper accuses Alicia being 'hy-sterry-cal', ending not long after with Alicia giving him an earful about treating people with the respect they deserve, then slamming the door in his face. It's starting to become regular occurrence between them.

     Casper stands there, stupefied. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to say something clever and charming and completely ingenuine that would've pleased her, but no. He just couldn't suck it up and get it over with, now could he?

     He hasn't even used up all his tab yet.

     Casper starts pounding on the door again. "Hey! Open up!" When that doesn't avail him of anything, he adds, "you still owe me money, you hear?" Someone's hearing him alright, but for all purposes, he may as well be falling on deaf ears. "I want my refund!" He screams.

     "Go sod off already!" Alicia screams back, her voice somewhat muffled by the thick door, but her ill will is plain to see.

     Casper kicks the door, as if that'll do anything. It doesn't budge and stubs his toes something awful. He's lost, and with it goes half his meals on any given day.