Sunday, 4 January 2009

Chapter Two: What, No Marmalade Sandwiches?

His mother was surprised and delighted that he’d acquired an interview so fast, and insisted on driving him to the station herself, although she made it abundantly clear that she thought it a silly place to hold a meeting.
“I mean, a busy station? Does he want you to get a train somewhere? If he does, do remember to call me on your mobile, won’t you? And don’t go anywhere if you don’t trust the man. I know you’re nineteen and not a child, but the idea of not getting into anyone’s car holds true even now…”
“Yes mum,” Theo said obediently, privately resolving to get into as many strangers’ cars as humanly possible.
And it wasn’t until he’d jumped out of the car, hastily agreeing to her sensible suggestions of times and places to meet him, and walked as fast as he could into the building that he realised that he’d never arranged to actually meet anyone.
The man on the phone had said someone would meet him, hadn’t he? Yes, but how would this mysterious person know who Theodore Hunt was, exactly? He was just a voice on the telephone. And, a glance outside the door confirmed, his mother had driven away, and would have been none-too-pleased to find out anyway.
“Sonofabitch,” he said under his breath. “I’m such an idiot.”
He stood irresolute in the middle of the floor as passengers hurried past him; not many, it wasn’t rush hour yet, but increasing and certainly enough to get annoyed at someone dithering in their way.
“Watch where you’re standing,” snapped a man with an American accent, bustling past with several suitcases. Theo skipped out of the way, catching a sharp blow to the shins nevertheless, and directed a scowl at the man’s blue-suited back.
“Same to you,” he mumbled for no real reason, and wondered vaguely if he was supposed to ask someone where the MyHunt Society was located. Perhaps there’d be a password or a sort of secret handshake…
“Can I help you, son?”
A large man with the uniform of a station employee had materialised behind him and was regarding him with the look of ingrained suspicion always worn by those in authority when presented with teenage males in jeans and hooded sweatshirts. Slightly startled, Theo turned and put on his best, most politest smile.
“Um…yes. Could you tell me how to get to the MyHunt Society HQ?”
The man’s look of suspicion sharpened and he shook his head.
“I’ve never heard of it. Are you waiting for someone?”
“Uhm…yes.”
“Then can I please ask you to sit down and wait? You’re providing an obstruction.”
Theo agreed hastily, rather embarrassed, and installed himself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches along the walls.
Various station employees then appeared from the woodwork to ensure that while he was loitering it was with entirely innocent intent.
Theo sat.
And sat.
And looked at his watch, and started swearing under his breath.
“This is stupid,” he grumbled, getting to his feet and stretching. “Probably some sort of dumb practical joke…bet there isn’t even such a thing as the MyHunt Society. Should have cottoned on when they told me to go to a station for an interv-”
“Excuse me, are you Theodore Hunt?”
It was a chirpy, enquiring voice which subsequently proved to belong to a chirpy, enquiring young woman, standing behind him and tilting her chin to look up at him. She barely came up to his chest, but stood in a way that defied anyone to mention her lack of stature. Her gaze was direct and curious, and she was wearing green eyeshadow.
Slightly disconcerted, Theo nodded.
“Um…yes.”
The young woman subjected him to a piercing stare that took in his entire appearance, and snorted.
“Not much of a Hunt,” she said cryptically, and shrugged. “Come on then.”
She turned and began to walk away. Realising he wasn’t following, she turned and beckoned.
“Theodore Hunt, right? Come to join the MyHunt Society? Follow me and I’ll take you there.”
“Oh! Oh. Right,” Theo spluttered, rushing to catch up with her. She gave him a grin that, while friendly, didn’t have much of an opinion of his intelligence and strode off confidently through the growing rush-hour crowds, Theo trailing in her wake.
They fetched up by a nondescript door that wore a vaguely threatening sign refusing to allow access to anyone not a railway employee. The young woman, with complete unconcern, pulled a key out of her pocket and fitted it in the lock. Theodore blinked.
“Uhm, miss, um…”
“Rowena,” she supplied, pushing open the door. “And don’t fuss about the door sign. Just go in.”
Theo went in.
It was a broom cupboard.
Rowena nipped in after him and shut the door, turning the light on. The low-watt bulb flickered unhappily; there wasn’t much room in the tiny space, especially with all the buckets, brooms and mops stacked about, and the pair of them were standing uncomfortably close.
There was a pause, and Theo cleared his throat.
“So why are we in a cleaning cupboard?”
“Isn’t a cleaning cupboard,” Rowena said succinctly. “It’s a lift.”
“…A lift? Where’s your base, in a nuclear bunker?”
Rowena rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a secret society; it doesn’t have big headquarters with a neon sign outside.”
“But it does take out full-page ads in newspapers?”
“Vague ads. And we don’t let just anyone in.”
The conversation lapsed, leaving Theo to wonder why they’d been so agreeable about letting him in. He was hardly secret society material.
Not long after, a faint purring that Theodore hadn’t been hearing stopped, and became much more noticeable for it.
“We’re here,” Rowena announced, and pushed the door open. Relieved to be leaving the cramped, rather stuffy cleaning cupboard (it had begun to be insidiously filled with the scent of Rowena’s strong perfume, which had overwhelmed even the lingering smell of bleach and was working rather efficiently as a sinus cleaner), Theo stumbled out after her…
And walked into what he could have sworn was a Greek temple.
He couldn’t help gawping. There were pillars, Greek-style carvings, tasteful nudey statues…only the fact that it was a substantial way below ground and presumably several millennia younger made it different from the best-preserved Greek temples in, well, actual Greece.
“Sonofabitch,” he said in wonder. “How the hell is this place even possible?!”
Rowena grinned.
“Welcome to the MyHunt Society. Everyone says that.”

2 comments:

  1. It's interesting, I'll give you that.

    I'm eager to see the next chapter, although I'm a bit curious how large a character Rowena will be.

    When they met, I was beginning to get a feeling like the MyHunt society knew Ted's family. Or was this something of a pun about how she had to go looking for him but found him really easily?

    I'm eager to read about the MyHunt society, so please, write more lest I dissolve into a steamy puddle of want due to severe deprivation.

    Okay, so that probably won't happen. I don't melt. I crumble.

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  2. WTF? I'm going to really meet up with a person without finding out about what I'm signing up for. If you're really going to an interview you at least know the basics (what they're known for, where their headquarters is, ect.) just so you can impress/shown you're interested in the job position.

    Yeah, secret society with ads in the paper. I'm not sure about secret societies but I'm pretty sure they, you know, keep secret.

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