The Pickpocket

Chapter 2 - Ready, Aim... Dog Food?

When I got back home (after hanging around for Abbi to take me) I went straight to the lounge. Nicci flew towards me, landing on my shoulder and tugging my ear. Her way of saying ‘hi, glad you’re back!’

I let Rex out the back and turned on Smaug’s lamp. The gecko ran up the length of my arm and sat on my head. Nicci scampered to the floor and she and Rex started a game of tag. I sighed and stroked my Gargoyle gecko’s head softly.

“What do you make of this, Smaug?” I asked, showing him the pocket watch. Smaug tried to lick it but I pulled it away. He licked my ear and scuttled back into his tank, running down my sleeve.

Rex howled from outside and Nicci squealed in alarm. I skidded into the kitchen, grabbing my crossbow off the table. Loading it as I ran, I raised it to my shoulder and prepared to fire.

“Get your dog off of me!” a voice hollered. I recognised it as one of the boys from the local secondary school, the leader of a small gang. They took great delight in mocking me when in actual fact, I’m a hell of a lot smarter than they’ll ever be!

I lowered my crossbow. I was right. “Gerald,” I said calmly. The boy screamed and blood soaked through his trouser leg. I sighed and snapped my fingers. Rex let go immediately and bounded to my side. Nicci had already darted into the house.

“What are you doing in my back garden?” I asked as Gerald sobbed on the ground.

“I weren’t doin’ nothin’,” he choked out. I raised an eyebrow and Rex growled. Alarm blossomed in the boy’s eyes. “Alright. I were tryin’ to break yer windows. And nick anythin’ I could.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you’re the weirdo, ain’t ye?” Gerald sneered. He got to his feet, leaning his arm on a large stick that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

“Define ‘weirdo’.”  My tone was cold and my eyes colder still. Gerald lost his cocky look and gulped, glancing at the fence. That was all I needed. Tapping Rex lightly on the head, the dog jumped over the fence, snarling. I heard terrified screams from the rest of Gerald’s gang fade away into the distance. Gerald gulped again, his legs shaking.

“Y’know…” Gerald looked at the floor, unable to meet my eye. If he were looking up he would know that I’d raised my crossbow. “Ye don’t go to school, you ain’t got no-one lookin’ after you and you ‘ave to work. And yer dad’s a weirdo too.” Gerald looked up, smirking. “Where is yer dad? The great and powerful William Hatchett? I bet he’s-”

I coughed and changed the arrow in my crossbow for a piece of hard dog food I found in my pocket. I didn’t want to kill Gerald, just warn him not to come back. Gerald didn’t see me lower the crossbow and aim it at his groin.

“I mean, what’s ‘e do again?” Gerald continued, confidence growing. “‘E’s a… a… oh wait, does ‘e even have a job? Or is ‘e just like them women who need to earn a bit? What they called again?”

My eyes flashed with anger.

Gerald’s smile died.

I fired.

“OWWWWWWWW!!!!!!” Gerald screamed. He doubled over with pain and I gently kicked him over. He landed on the ground with a thud, sending up a spray of mud that hit me in the face. I wiped it away and by the time I could see again, Gerald had vanished. I could hear his wails all the way down the road. Rex jumped back over the fence, panting. I grinned. Rex was the fittest dog around, and if he was panting, that meant that he’d taken those boys for a very long run.  

 

*

 

Later that night, I was examining the pocket watch. The clockface flicked up to reveal a digital watch showing the twenty-four hour clock. I set the time  - 19:01 - and went to feed my pets for the final time. Rex ate his dog food before following me into the lounge. Nicci was curled up in her basket and Smaug was on the side of his tank, tongue flicking out. I put a pile of fruit next to Nicci and gave Smaug some fruit before turning on the TV. A familiar tune filled the room and Rex started to bark. He doesn’t like the Top Gear theme tune, but I do! He ended up being shut out of the room until the show had ended.

Halfway through the programme, my phone rang. I picked it up and answered.

“Hello?”

“Jamie!” a voice cried. I could hear traffic in the background and the voice was loud. “Long time no talking, buddy.”

“Dad, we spoke this morning,” I replied, putting the subtitles on the TV and muting it.

“Oh. What’re you watchin’?” Dad asked. I could tell that he was hastily changing the subject, but I wasn’t going to be deterred that easily!

“How could you forget? I call you every morning,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the TV. Something had just caught fire.

“Well, I…” Dad tailed off. “Work is busy, okay? Lotsa things to do.”

“Lotsa people to kill, you mean.”

“Jamie. Shut. Up. Not a secure line.”  I bit my lip and accidentally kicked the remote to the floor. It landed on Nicci, who squealed and jumped into Smaug’s tank. Smaug panicked and started jumping about all over the place. Rex started howling and I slipped onto the carpet whilst trying to retrieve the TV remote. Dad was laughing.

“What the hell have you done?” he chuckled. I swore and his laughter got louder.

“Don’t tell me,” Dad continued, “you knocked the remote off of the sofa which hit Nicci, Nicci disturbed Smaug, Rex started barking and you hit the carpet head-first. Am I right?”

I lay there, stunned. My stripy socks were still on the sofa and my right arm was stuck under said sofa. The remote had slid halfway across the room and Nicci had it, turning the volume up again and again. Rex was scratching at the door and Smaug had stolen all of Nicci’s fruit. I sighed.

“How did you know?” I asked eventually. Fortunately, the phone was less than an inch from my head.

“I’m standin’ right outside, kiddo,” came the reply.

“What?!”

 

*

 

Dad was sat on the sofa, legs crossed, one foot jigging up and down. Nicci was sat on his shoulder, tugging his blonde hair. His sunglasses were catching the light and reflecting onto the pocket watch. The time was still as I’d left it - 19:01. I sighed.

“That thing must be broken,” I muttered. Dad raised an eyebrow, brushing a piece of non-existent dirt from his immaculate leather jacket. I used to have one like it but Rex destroyed it and Nicci threw the pieces in the bin, the helpful monkey she is.

“Well, if it’s broken, why not throw it away?” Dad asked, his Texan drawl filling the room. I smiled to myself. His voice was so smooth it could probably melt chocolate, a voice that made you feel safe as soon as you heard it. It’s a shame he was a hitman - a trained assassin, the best of the best.

“I don’t know. It seems to radiate some sort of power,” I replied. Dad sighed, one eyebrow raised disbelievingly, and reached for the pocket watch. It slid across the table away from him.

“Jamie, are you-?”

“Nope.” The watch moved further across the table when I reached for it. Rex put his head on the table and his tongue shot out. The watch moved again, and again, and again...

“Okay, that thing is weird,” Dad said eventually, sitting back down. Nicci was cowering in one corner of the room. She’d pulled out a clump of Dad’s hair and he’d gone ballistic. Rex was lying at my feet and Smaug had fallen asleep.

“I mean, it might just be us, me with jet lag an’ all, an’ you bein’ tired after a day of work,” Dad continued, “but that thing definitely moved. More than once. Away from us. An’ I’m not crazy - well, I’m as not-crazy as a hitman can be - but that thing is dangerous, I know it.”

I nodded. The watch lid shut with a sharp snap and I jumped. “Agreed,” I said quickly, “and actually, you are crazy.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Grammar, Dad.”