CHAPTER 6: IN WHICH A CONFESSION IS MADE
He stood outside her gate, staring at the dilapidated house. There were shingles missing from the roof, and a window on the east side had been broken and covered over with cardboard. The garden though was well tended, and was still a riot of colour this late in summer.
‘So are you just going to stand there admiring the scenery or are you going in?’ he asked himself grimly.
‘Stand here?’ he answered himself snarkily. He sighed in resignation. You knew things were really bad when you stood about in witches’ gateways having sarcastic conversations with yourself...Seeing as there was no further excuse for delay, Leo swung the tiny gate open and stepped into the path that led to her patio. His foot had no sooner touched the ground than a pain exploded in his head. It felt like someone had hit him really hard on the back of the head with a baseball bat. He sank silently to the ground, in too much agony even to cry out.
He wondered if he was having a stroke, but figured he should be unconscious by now if he was. His vision was blurry but he rolled over on the ground to try to see if anyone was around so he could ask for help. There was a figure on the porch, standing and seemingly staring at him. The figure was holding something that looked like a shotgun! He blinked a few times to clear his vision, but the pain was still blinding.“What the hell do you want?” Mya asked. He recognised her voice and knew that it was her on the porch.
“Help...me” he tried to say, but he could hardly form the words. She was coming toward him, still pointing the shotgun-looking thing at him. Here he was, dying on her footpath and she was threatening him with a firearm? As she came nearer, the pain in his head intensified and, thankfully, he blacked out.
He came to lying on the grass at the other side of the road from her gate. She was leaning on her gatepost, gun still in hand, and still pointed at him. He sat up cautiously, trying not to make any sudden moves. The look on her face told him that if he so much as twitched...he was dead meat.“W-What happened?” he asked her for lack of anyone else who seemed to know.
“I spelled my gate,” she calmly said “To hit you with a concussion spell if ever you came back”.
“So....that stroke thing I just went through, you did that?” he said getting up.
“Yes” she replied, raising the shotgun to stay level with his face.
“That is some serious magic” he cautiously took a step toward her to see if he could walk, “How did I get to this side of the road?”She quickly took a step back, moving behind her gate, “I dragged you there. If you try to step across the gateway it will hit you again” she said quickly.
He put up both hands and smiled, “I come in peace”.“Well go come somewhere else, no-one is interested here”, she replied.
“Witty” his smile widened as he took another step closer, “but I’m serious. I just came to talk. What happened the other day was totally out of line”
“Out of line?” she whispered, disbelief written all over her face. Her mouth was hanging open and she stared at him like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“It was wrong, totally wrong. What do you want me to say?” he asked in tones of injured resignation, “I got a little carried away, and things got out of hand. But I’m here to make amends so tell me; what can I do?”She continued to stare at him like he was a particular unlikely extraterrestrial that had wandered across her path. He wondered if he dared take a step closer or if he was risking having his ear blown off. He took another cautious step forward with no ominous movement on the trigger finger, though the shotgun stayed level with his face and so did her light brown eyes.“I’m sorry Mya” he said in his most contrite voice, “look, how about I repair that window for you? The one covered in cardboard?”
“Oh” she said in that dangerous sounding whisper “, take virginity, repair window. Sounds fair”.
“Look-“he begun before being interrupted.
“In fact, no. Take virginity, come back, force self on girl, then repair her window. Sounds very fair” she said, her voice getting louder with each word, “ Very, very, very fair!” she shouted, “ Isn’t it?” the voice went back to that whisper.
“Do you know how to use that thing?” he pointed with his chin at the shotgun She looked momentarily confused like she didn’t know what he was on about.“Because I think you should put it down. That might be best” he said in the most placating tone he could find.
“And why should I care what you think?” she asked, voice abruptly calm and cold and eyes suddenly almost as grey-looking as his own in their fury. Her fingers tightened on the weapon. He was afraid if he didn’t find a way to defuse the situation, someone was going to get hurt. And he was not about that life. She had said that if he stepped over the gateway, his head would explode again. But the barrel of the shotgun was long and he did not need to step over the gate to reach it...there was a reason his nickname was ‘Bolt’; he had the fastest reflexes of anyone he had ever seen, met or heard of. Before she knew what had happened, he stepped forward, grabbed the gun barrel, pulled the gun out of her hand, and threw it behind him. It happened so fast she was still standing there, hands frozen in position, holding thin air when he turned back around to her. Her expression was priceless; he almost wished he had a camera.
“Now” he said in tones of satisfaction, “Let’s start this again shall we?”