Page 23 of Box of Frogs
Oh, he was in for it now. ‘Playground? That suggests you’ve been to school when clearly you’re not burdened by an abundance of education.’
Something passed across Morgan’s face, a shadow that hinted at wistfulness or even longing. I watched him carefully. Nah. I had to be imagining it. His head curved down towards mine until our noses were almost touching. My heart rate picked up and I swear he knew it.
He smiled faintly then stepped back. ‘You seriously expect me to believe that you think you’re a superhero?’ A tiny crease formed in his brow. ‘Is that why you came to my pub dressed in a damned cape and mask?’
‘No,’ I began. Then I grimaced. ‘Okay, yes.’
‘Rather belabouring the amnesia bit, aren’t you?’ he commented. He obviously still believed I was faking my condition. ‘And what’s that about being Tasered anyway?’ His eyes hardened to flinty green chips.
‘Gasbudlikins!’ I exploded. ‘How many ways am I supposed to say the same thing? I’m not lying. I really do have amnesia. And if we’re not freaking superheroes, then what are we?’
Morgan merely looked at me with a deadpan expression. ‘Say that again.’
I screwed up my face and beat the base of my palms against my temples. ‘I’ve got amnesia!’ I yelled in his face. ‘I don’t remember anything!’
He didn’t flinch. ‘Not that part. The first thing you said. The first word.’
‘Huh?’ My anger was still rising and he wasn’t helping it abate in the slightest.
‘First word, Maddy, what was it?’
‘I…’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. Gasbudli—’
Morgan snapped his fingers. ‘There you go. What does that mean?’
I stared at him. ‘What do you think it means? Bloody hell. Shit. Crap. Gadzooks. Fucking…’
‘Enough.’ He watched me. ‘How many other people have you heard say that word?’
‘Gasbudlikins? I don’t know.’ I tried to think past my annoyance. ‘No one. So what?’
‘Humans don’t use that word. It’s ridiculously old-fashioned. Even most of us, at least on this side, don’t use it any more. You always did.’ A fleeting, sad expression crossed his face. ‘Even when you were a kid.’
I scratched my head. ‘I don’t understand anything you’re saying.’
Morgan laughed humourlessly. ‘I have to hand it to you, Madrona. When you choose to create a fiction, you really go all in, don’t you? You cover every single detail. Even this one.’
I’d just about had enough. Yes, the vexing man had provided me with a few answers but no one should have to put with this kind of prevarication. I was ready to throw in the towel and abandon him right there when he twisted and began heading in the opposite direction. ‘You win,’ he said. ‘Again. We’ll go to Castlefield and I’ll show you everything. Where all this,’ he waved expansively, including both of us in the movement, ‘began.’ He reached into his pocket and drew out a sleek phone. ‘It’s me,’ he said tersely into the receiver. ‘I need a car.’
I watched him, my brow still furrowed. My better nature was telling me to skedaddle – and quickly. Even if it seemed that Morgan harboured some buried feelings for me, it was clear that the better part of him hated me. For all I knew, he’d been behind the golf-course attack. And yet, I didn’t think he meant me any real harm.
I had no clue what he was alluding to or what going to Castlefield entailed but I couldn’t back away. I had to know everything.
***
‘You didn’t answer my question, you know,’ I said, when Morgan’s taciturn driver dropped us off next to an old railway bridge. It had several odd structures in front of it and expanse of green. ‘Do we all have green eyes?’
Morgan adjusted his cuffs and murmured something to the driver. ‘We do.’
I pumped the air triumphantly. Observation was probably one of my superpowers.
‘We are not, however, superheroes,’ he added caustically.
‘I slowed down time,’ I said importantly.
‘Which is forbidden.’
I growled impatiently. ‘By whom exactly? And why?’
