Saturday closes the door to the little, white, adjacent room softly and locks it. He quickly looks around and accidentally knocks over a candle with his slate.
"Saturday?" Dr. Kinbott says with concern. "Is everything okay? You can't hide in there for the rest of the session." he says warningly.
"I'm all right." returns the cool but slightly panicked deep voice. "Just, preparing myself for our uncomfortable journey."
He taps his slate with his large left hand. "Nail file." he says softly to the black slate.
Thing pokes out and hands him what he wants.
Saturday uses the file to unlock the lock on the window. He opens the big white-paned window and steps out onto the flat roof.
He looks over the ledge and sees the people of Jericho going about their daily lives.
Saturday flips over the ledge and slides down the drainpipe.
He could just make out the faint deep, melodic, voice of Principal Weems, still in his silver car. "On Saturday, I can do in the afternoon, sometime around four o'clock?"
He crosses the street, not looking where he was going and crashes into a man holding a cart of apples. The apples roll to the ground as his head is pulled backwards, seemingly by a supernatural force and: he has another vision.
A vision of a man driving a truck, and looking at his cellphone. It was too late when he realized.
Carts of apples roll to the floor.
Another man, a tall black one, comes out of his truck, the truck that crashed into the man with the apples, looking concerned.
Saturday pulls his head back with great force, his floppy hair coming back into position.
"Who let you out?" asks the apple-man with disdain. "You goddamn weirdo."
Saturday quickly glances at Principal Weems' car, then goes on his way.
Principal Weems didn't see what the little maid saw. She saw her Master trying to run away! There's no time to tell him, she decides, he was still on the phone! She quickly slipped out of the car and shadowed her Master.
Inside a cafe, the espresso machine whirs, hisses and explodes a pile of steam into the ceiling.
The girl behind the counter with the light brown hair and mesmerising green eyes shudders. She desperately tries to fix the machine, which only exploded more smoke.
Then, when the smoke subsides, a pale skinned boy with floppy black hair, sunken black eyes and deliciously luscious lips was standing there, in front of her.
"Holy crap!" she exclaims in surprise and fear. "Do you make a habit of scaring the hell out of people?"
"It's more of a hobby." he returns nonchalantly in his delicious deep voice.
"You go to Nevermore." she says, clearly fazed. "Didn't realize they changed up the uniform."
"I need a quad over ice." he says cooly. "It's an emergency."
The pretty girl glances away, confused. "Ah-"
"It's four shots of espresso."
"Yeah, I...I know what a quad is, but, spoiler alert, the espresso machine's having a seizure, so all we have is drip." she glances to the side making the 'drip.'
"But drip is for people who hate themselves and know their lives have no real purpose or meaning." returns the boy sharply and cooly.
The pretty girl behind the counter quickly looks apologetically towards the man making his drip.
He leaves his drink and goes.
"What's wrong with your machine?" questions the boy emotionlessly.
"It's a temperamental beast with a mind of its own, and it doesn't help that the instructions are in Italian."
Saturday stalks behind the counter and takes the black book from the girl's petite hands.
"I need a tri-wing screwdriver and a four-millimetre Allen wrench." he says tartly.
"Wait, you read Italian?" asks the girl, confused.
"Of course." says the pale boy, looking down at her. "It's the native tongue of Machiavelli. Here's the deal. I'm going to fix your coffee machine, then you're going to make my coffee and call me a taxi."
"Uh, no taxis in Jericho. Try Uber?" she stammers as Saturday reaches a black sleeved arm over with a screwdriver.
"I don't have a phone. I refuse to be a slave to technology." he says coldly as he turns the black with a hint of red screwdriver on the espresso machine.
"Then you're out of luck." says the pretty girl in a defeated tone. "Where're you going anyway?" she asks.
"That's on a need-to-know basis. What about trains?" he glances down at her again.
"Nearest station is Burlington. It's half an hour away."
"You have a valve issue. I've seen it before."
"Where? You have one of these monsters at home?" she asks incredulously.
"Steam-powered guillotine. I built it when I was ten."
She gives him a look.
He looks back. "I wanted to decapitate my soldiers more efficiently."
She nods a little. "Sure. Grim Reaper Gentleman, makes perfect sense."
The steam vents, then subsides.
Saturday removes his pale hand from the espresso machine.
"Wow." she says incredulously and looks up at him. "Thanks."
He returns her look, unblinking.
"I never met a Nevermore kid who got their hands dirty." she says as she replaces the metal cover.
"I'm Taylor, by the way. I didn't catch your name, or is that on a need-to-know basis too?" she asks playfully, scrunching her eyebrows at the tall lean boy.
He lowers his eyelids at her.
"Saturday." he says in his delicious deep voice.
She gives him a smile, showing off her perfect pearly teeth. "I'll tell you what, Saturday. To show my appreciation, how about I drive you to Burlington myself?"
"Perfect. Put that quad in a to-go cup." he returns tartly and coldly.
"Uh, but I don't get off for another hour." she furrows her brown brows.
Saturday holds up some bank notes between his long white fingers. "I'll sweeten the pot."
"Twenty whole dollars..." she trails off, confused but amused. She smiles. "Tempting, but no." she looks away.
"I'll make it 40." says Saturday coolly.
She smiles, looking down at the floor. "Uh...Listen, Saturday, one fun fact about me...I can't be bought, so either wait, or find someone else to drive you."
Saturday gives her a long look, then stalks away.
Taylor gives a wry chuckle.
Back in the car, Principal Weems was staring at his phone, not realising that the petite maid was gone...until he sees Dr. Kinbott coming outside.
He gives a gasp and steps out his silver car. The tall man steps up to the slightly shorter man.
"What happened?" he questions with concern.
Dr. Kinbott gives a sigh.
Outside the cafe, Misaki hides from her pale Master. She was behind a thin red brick wall, hidden from his view as he sits in a seat, patiently- or should one say, impatiently- waiting for Taylor's shift to end.
"Hey, boys, check it out." Saturday, who was now seated at a table next to one of the large rectangular windows, faintly hears the voices of a gang of three boys, two white boys- one thin and one round, and one black, dressed in black and white pilgrim outfits with black hats and white collars.
"Who's that?" They see the pale lean boy in his black uniform sitting inside the cafe but failed to notice the petite girl standing attentively outside it, her long black hair in two thick braids that went up to her waist and her dark eyes glowing gold with anticipation.
"Bro..."
"Come on."
The black pilgrim opens the door to the cafe, all three step inside, one after the other, and surround the pale, tall, lean boy.
"What's a Nevermore freak doing out in the wild?"
Saturday glances nonchalantly at the gang.
"This is our booth." taunts a boy, pointing a finger at him.
Saturday's shrewd obsidian eyes dart around and quickly scan the new company. "Why are you three dressed like religious fanatics?" he questions coolly.
"We're pilgrims."
"Potato, po-tah-to." returns Saturday coldly.
"We work at Pilgrim World." says the tall, stocky, black boy menacingly, flipping a flyer that lay flat on the table with his large black hand, revealing the large navy words: 𝐏𝚰𝐋𝐆𝐑𝚰𝐌 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 on the front with a picture of a pilgrim outline underneath it.
Saturday slides the flyer towards him with a white, long fingered, black nail polished hand, lowering his eyes to read the flyer.
"It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide." he concludes coolly.
"My dad owns Pilgrim World." says the black boy, sneering at the tall pale boy sitting in front of him. "Who you calling stupid?"
"If the buckled shoe fits." returns the pale boy.
Misaki observes the scene from outside and gives a little gasp.
"Guys, back off." came the voice of Taylor, the girl behind the counter. She puts a hand on one of the boy's shoulders and pushes him out of the way.
"Stay out of this, Galpin." threatens a boy.
"Yes, stay out of this." says Saturday as he gets up, black floppy hair flopping.
The black boy gasps inwardly. The ghostly pale boy was taller than himself by a head! And he was also so much taller than his mates!
"So tell me, freak...you ever been with a normie?" threatens the black boy.
"I've never found one that could handle me." says Saturday showing no emotion on his sharp features.
The stocky black boy furrows his eyebrows defiantly.
"Boo!" Saturday taunts down at him.
Scared, he jumps out of his way.
"Hey!" yells the other round, slightly shorter, white boy gang member as he grabs Saturday's shoulder, a vicious snarl on his pale face.
☟☟☟