Page 69 of The Society of Unknowable Objects
“The box ishere,” she said, frowning. Fingers of unease crawled over her scalp. “In town.”
Does that mean Owen is here? What if he’s waiting, watching?
Forus.
James and Henry crowded around Magda and three of them inspected the map.
The box was just beyond the far end of town, a few minutes’ walk away.
“He’s close,” Magda said.
“Take my hands, both of you,” Henry instructed, holding out a hand to Magda and James. Magda stared at it, not understanding. “I’m not feeling soppy,” Henry explained. “I can ghost us. If that man is here, he won’t be able to do anything to us. It’s just a precaution.”
“Ghost?” James asked.
“Like when she walked through the wall,” Magda explained, and James nodded his understanding.
Magda took hold of Henry’s hand and immediately a queer sensation passed over her, like the draught from a window in an otherwise warm house, a chill scuttling down her spine. A moment later James took hold of Henry’s other hand.
“Let’s go see,” Henry said, and three of them stepped up onto the pavement in front of the tall, white church and made their way north along the road, hand in hand.
“If anyone sees us we’re going to look a bit strange,” James commented. “Can’t we be invisible as well?” He laughed at his own comment, but it sounded nervous to Magda, rather than amused.
“Sadly not,” Henry murmured. “Intangibility is the only service I offer.”
Beyond the redbrick buildings that gathered around the crossroads they found themselves passing clapboard houses behind chain-link fences, some with lights on behind net curtains and blinds. A dog barked in the distance and in the other direction Magda heard the strangled sound of music, like someone was listening to a car radio with the windows down, but otherwise the town was quiet.
They passed beyond the comforting glow of the streetlights, and the dark woodland ahead of them seemed to grow denser and more foreboding as they neared. The pavement ended, and the last building in the town was an abandoned gas station on the left side of the road. It was just two old pumps and a wooden store. Some of the planks of wood on the front of the building had split, and others had come away from the nails holding them in place. The windows of the store were boarded up from the inside.
“‘Haston Gas and Go,’” Magda murmured, reading the faded sign above the door. A large painted mural on the end of the building facing the woodland announcedIce Cold Coca-Cola Here!That made Magda think of Frank, and she wondered how he was doing back in London.
They stepped down onto the road and came to halt at the very end of town, just beyond the Gas and Go, where the woodland butted up against civilisation.
“Nothing,” James said. He turned his head from side to side, as if scanning the woods. The only sound was the busy insects and the call of a bird somewhere nearby in the woods—like two notes on a clarinet, Magda thought:hoo-woo.
Magda checked the map again, flicking it out with her free hand to inspect. The Impossible Box was right ahead of them, off to the side of the road. “It’s here,” she said, nodding to herself. She raised her voice and called into the trees, “I know you’re here. You might as well come out.”
They waited, and time stretched out. The bird called again, and the insects buzzed incessantly. Magda began to wonder if the map was wrong, or maybe Owen had dropped the Impossible Box.
That would be nice. Maybe he droppeditand we can just pick it up and go home.
Then something emerged from the tree line on the left side of the road a little ways ahead of them. A figure. A man.
It’s him!
But Magda knew almost immediately that this figurewasn’tOwen Maddox. This figure didn’t move like Owen, and although it was dark and this man’s features were obscured, the shape wasn’t Owen’s shape.
“Hello?” Henry called. “Hey, you there! Hello?”
The bird called again, as if answering Henry:hoo-woo.
Magda risked a glance at the map. The Impossible Box was now on the road directly ahead of them.
“He has it,” she murmured to Henry. “The Impossible Box is with that man.”
The figure didn’t move for a moment, just a silhouette on the road between the trees. Then he walked forward, using a cautious, sideways sort of step, like a man approaching a wild animal. As he neared his features shed shadows in the faint glow from the streetlights behind them down the street.
There was nothing spectacular about this man, Magda thought; he looked ordinary and forgettable, with brown hair and tanned skin. He was wearing a long brown coat over jeans and a flannel shirt, clothes for much colder weather. As he approached, Magda felt a prickle of unease that seemed to appear unprompted. Her mind wanted to pull her eyesaway, her body wanted to turn around, and she had no explanation for these odd sensations.
