“Hi, Nicky,” says Kennet.
Nicky stops and looks at him with an expression of terror. There is a blob of saliva at both corners of his mouth. “Not allowed,” he says, slowly and uncertainly.
“Sure you are. My name is Kennet, and I’m a police officer. Or, to be more accurate, I’m getting on a bit now and I’ve retired, but that doesn’t change anything, I’m still a police officer.”
The boy smiles in surprise. “Have you got a gun, then?”
Kennet shakes his head. “No,” he lies. “And I haven’t got a police car either.”
The boy’s expression grows serious. “Did they take it away when you got old?”
Kennet nods. “Yep.”
“Are you here to catch the thiefs?” asks Nicky.
“What thieves?”
Nicky tugs at the zip of his jacket. “Sometimes they take things from me,” he says, kicking at the ground.
“Who does?”
Nicky looks at him impatiently. “The thiefs.”
“Right.”
“My hat, my watch, my special stone with the glittery edge.”
“Are you scared of anyone?”
He shakes his head.
“Everybody here is pretty nice, huh?” Kennet asks hesitantly.
The boy puffs out his cheeks, hums, and gazes after Aida.
“My sister is searching for the worst monster.”
Kennet nods in the direction of the newspaper kiosk by the underground station. “Would you like a Coke?”
The boy walks alongside him, chatting away. “I work in the library on Saturdays. I take people’s coats and hang them up in the cloakroom, and they get a ticket with a number on it, thousands of different numbers.”
“Good for you,” says Kennet. He buys two bottles of Coca-Cola.
Nicky looks pleased and asks for an extra straw. Then he drinks, burps, drinks, and burps again.
“What did you mean when you mentioned your sister and a monster?” Kennet asks casually.
Nicky frowns. “It’s that boy. Aida’s boyfriend. Benjamin. She hasn’t seen him today. But before he was really mad, really really mad. Aida cried.”
“Why was Benjamin angry?”
Nicky looks at Kennet in surprise. “Benjamin isn’t angry, he’s nice. He makes Aida happy and she laughs.”
Kennet looks at the tall boy. “So who was angry, Nicky? Who was it that was angry?”
Nicky suddenly looks uneasy. He stares at his drink, searching for something. “I’m not allowed to accept things from—”
“This is different, remember? I’m a policeman. It’ll be fine this time, I promise,” says Kennet. “Who was angry, Nicky?”
Nicky scratches his throat and wipes the foam from the corners of his mouth. “It’s Wailord—his mouth is this big.” He demonstrates with his arms.
“Wailord?”
“He’s evil.”
“Where’s Aida gone, Nicky?”
The boy’s cheeks quiver as he replies. “She can’t find Benjamin; it’s not good.”
“But where did she go just now?”
Nicky looks as if he’s about to burst into tears as he shakes his head. “No, no, no, I’m not allowed to talk to men I don’t know.”
“Of course you’re not. But, look, Nicky, I’m no ordinary man,” says Kennet, taking out his wallet and finding a photograph of himself in his police uniform.
Nicky looks closely at the picture. Then he says seriously, “Aida is going to see Wailord. She’s afraid he’s bitten Benjamin. Wailord opens his mouth this wide.”
Nicky demonstrates with his arms again, and Kennet tries to keep his voice completely calm as he says, “Do you know where Wailord lives?”
“At the sea.”
“The sea. And how do you get there?”
“I’m not allowed to go to the sea, not even close.”
“I understand that, Nicky. But I can go. How do you get there?”
“On the bus.”
58
sunday, december 13 (feast of st lucia): afternoon
Nicky fishes for something in his pocket, whispering to himself, then looks up at Kennet. “Wailord played a trick on me once when I had to pay,” he says, trying to smile. “He was just joking. They tricked me into eating something you’re not supposed to eat.”
Kennet waits. Nicky blushes and fiddles with his zipper. His fingernails are dirty.
“What did you eat?” asks Kennet.
The boy’s cheeks quiver violently again. “I didn’t want to,” he replies, and a few tears trickle down his face.
Kennet pats Nicky on the shoulder and tries to keep his voice calm and steady. “You know what it sounds like? It sounds like Wailord is really stupid.”
“Stupid.”
Kennet wonders what Nicky keeps fiddling with in his pocket. “I’m a police officer, you know that, and I say that nobody is allowed to do stupid things to you.”
“You’re too old.”
“But I’m strong.”
Nicky looks more cheerful. “Can I have another Coke?”
“If you want.”
“Yes, please.”
“What have you got in your pocket?” asks Kennet, feigning indifference.
Nicky smiles. “It’s a secret.”
“I see,” says Kennet, and refrains from asking any further.
Nicky takes the bait. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“Oh, no. I understand secrets. You couldn’t be a policeman for as long as I have without being able to keep a secret. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Nicky.”
“You’ll never guess what it is.”
“I’m sure I couldn’t.”
Nicky takes his hand out of his pocket. “I’ll tell you what it is.” He opens his fist. “It’s my power.”
In Nicky’s hand lies a small lump of soil. Kennet looks inquiringly at the boy who simply smiles.
“I am a ground-type Pokémon,” he says contentedly.
“A ground-type Pokémon,” Kennet repeats.
Nicky closes his fist and pushes it back in his pocket. “Do you know what my powers are?”
Kennet shakes his head. Across the street, a man with a pointed head slowly passes the dark, damp façades of the buildings. He seems to be searching for something; he has a cane in his hand and is poking at the ground with it. Kennet automatically thinks that the man is trying to look in through the windows on the ground floor. He thinks he ought to go over and ask him what he’s doing.