Page 40 of The Society of Unknowable Objects
He’s not going to answer, is he? He’s avoiding the question.
“Frank,” Magda persisted, tapping the table until he looked at her. “You have to answer questions now. It’s just you and me here. I don’t know about Will, but Henrietta stopped coming because you would never answer her questions.”
Frank took a big, shuddering breath and then let it all out as a sigh. “Yes.”
“Yes what, Frank?”
“I’m sorry about this afternoon, in the park.” Magda watched hismouth turn downwards quickly, almost like a pained flinch at the memory of what he had done. “I’m sorry I used the item. So stupid of me.” He snuck a quick glance at her, eyes flicking up and then away again. “I’m sorry we were at such odds with each other, I really don’t like it being like that.”
“Nor me,” Magda admitted, her voice quiet.
Frank glugged another mouthful of Coke and then placed the bottle on the table.
“It seems like I’ve lost the people closest to me,” he reflected, his voice quiet. He turned his head to glance towards the door again. “Henrietta, and now Will. Your mother before that.”
Magda didn’t like how maudlin he suddenly seemed. It was so unlike Frank. She knew him to be grumpy or almost childishly excitable, but never self-pitying. When he looked at her again, she thought his eyes were damp. “I don’t want to lose you too, Magda.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m not going anywhere, that’s not what this is about.”
“And I know you want to know things,” he continued, looking away as if the tears in his eyes were embarrassing to him. “I want you to know them. But one at a time, okay? I have to do this slowly.” He sniffed heavily, and then lifted a hand, clenching it into a fist. “I’ve been holding secrets for so long it’s like my fist is turned to stone. It’ll take a while to uncurl the fingers.”
“Okay,” she said. “One at a time, then. Let’s start with where the collection is.” She nodded across the table towards the bookcase, the Clockwork Cabinet showing its face to the light. “Was Henrietta right when she told me it’s empty?”
Frank pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose, then spent a moment staring at the Coke bottle with glassy eyes, his thoughts elsewhere. “Okay,” he said finally, the word a sigh of defeat.
He pushed his chair back with a scrape and walked over to a bookcase near the door to the stairs. “The Clockwork Cabinet is beautiful,” he said over his shoulder, as he reached for something on the shelf. Magda heard a click, a latch released. “But a good, solid safe is much better for keeping things out of harm’s way.” As Magda watched, a horizontalsegment of the bookshelf pulled out on a hinge like a door, revealing a safe embedded in the wall.
“You have another secret compartment down here?” she asked in disbelief.
Frank didn’t answer. He spun the dial a few times and then the safe clunked, unlocking. Frank opened the door, which emitted a harsh screech that made Magda wince.
“Needs oiling,” he muttered.
He removed an item, closed the safe, and then pushed the segment of bookshelf over it once again.
“Here we go,” he said, returning to the table. Magda studied the item in Frank’s hands—a small wooden box, about the size of a jewellery box. It appeared to have a seam around the edge, and a pair of brass hinges on one side, as if the box opened like a book.
“What’s that?” Magda asked.
“It’s the Society collection,” he said, frowning. “I thought that was clear from all the buildup and theatrics with the safe and whatnot.”
“In there?” she asked. “So we really don’t have many things, then?”
“This is not an ordinary box, Magda,” Frank explained, positioning the box directly in front of him, next to the chess piece. “Do you remember the story about the Society and how it came to be?”
Magda thought for a moment and made connections. “The Impossible Box?” she asked, her voice louder than she had intended, excitement vibrating through her.
Frank nodded.
Magda stared, her eyes fixed on the box. Another magical item. Despite all that had happened, the same thrill was still there, the same raw buzz of exhilaration when a new magical item was shared with her. “It’s smaller than I imagined.”
“Henrietta might think the Society doesn’t have a collection,” Frank said. “But that’s not true. She just didn’t understand the truth.” He leaned a little closer, fixing Magda with a stern look that made her feel scrutinised, judged, even. “I know Henrietta has been filling your head with the idea that I only tell lies, but there is always truth at the heart of everything, even if it is dressed up in different clothes.”
Magda nodded, enjoying his choice of words as much as she didn’t enjoy the look he had given her.
“This is the Impossible Box,” Frank said, hands resting on either side of it. “You can put anything in here, of any size. Not just things that look like they would fit. Anything. You just push it in, and the box will grab it and hold it. And if you want to take it out again, you just have to remember the item, and you reach in, and it will be in your hand. You can’t take something out unless you know it’s in there. That is why it is much safer for the collection to be in here than in the cabinet.”
“How do things bigger than the box fit inside?” Magda asked.
