Page 71 of Goldilocks
“No.” Sam could make out the icon for the call button just fine and pressed it. He held it to his ear, listening to the tone ringing out. And despite the fact that Fionn had stepped in, clearly well aware that Sam’s eyes were, as he said yesterday, fucked, Sam was grateful. Grateful that Fionn was here. Because his instincts were telling him that if Fionn wasn’t, he’d have gone into the house and not come out. Not beenableto come out.
“What are you up to?”Mary answered, not even saying hi.
“Can I ask a favour?”
“If the favour is me not minding your dad next week, no. Anything else, yes.”
“Could you make space at your place for him? Just for a few days?” Sam knew it was an inconvenience; Mary didn’t have the space at their house. It meant someone would have to sleep on the couch in the living room.
“I’m sure I can. Did something happen?”
Gravel crunched. Sam twisted to watch a squad car pull into the short driveway. “There was a break-in. The guards are here now, so I’m going to talk to them, and I’ll bring him by afterwards.” Sam hung up and approached the guards. He explained what happened, and the two officers first walked around the house, then went inside.
They left the front door open so Sam could watch their progress. He stood, tensed up, as they reached the door at the end of the hall. One man went in while the other waited in the hall, but as the minutes crawled by, neither man sounded any alarm. They moved on from the room and came out to Sam.
“We didn’t see anyone,” the tallest of the guards said. “But come in and have a look. Tell me if this is the usual state things are left in.”
Sam had to force his legs to move. When he heard the stones displacing behind him, he stopped and turned to Fionn, who was following. “Can you wait here? Keep an eye on my dad?”
“Alright. I’ll put that in your car.” Fionn took the bag he’d forced on Sam earlier from his hands. Sam hadn’t realised he was still holding it.
“Thanks.” Sam continued into the house, every hair standing up as he followed the guard down the hall. He struggled to keep a hold of his bravery when they reached the doorway. It took a few moments for Sam to comprehend what he was looking at.
Books littered the floor. Loose pages, ripped from copies and textbooks, were scattered everywhere. Clothes were strewn about, sheets were torn. Sam’s bed was cracked down the middle, the sturdy oak frame shattered in two. The mattress was torn, springs ripped from the inside. His dresser was knocked onto its side, all the shelves in different parts of the room.
“Is this the state the room was left in?”
Sam shot the guard a scathing look. He caught himself before he could snap ‘I didn’t leave my room like this’. His heart raced the longer he looked at the carnage. Finally, as he heard the click of the officer taking a picture, he found his voice. “What the fuck?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“It was totally trashed,” Sam ranted as he paced the deck of his boat. “Everything was destroyed. All my books, all my clothes, all my furniture! Who would do that?” Sam spoke forcefully, feeding his outrage rather than the fear. He’d stopped thinking about the fact that he’d seen that shadow. That they’d all been in the house together. “Half those books are from the library. I’m going to have to get a hold of the report and hope the guards find something because otherwise I’m going to be stuck paying for them and I can’t afford that.”
Mary had picked up Oisín from the house with her mom, and Sam had gone to the guard station to make an official report. After he’d stepped out, he’d come to the pier on autopilot and only belatedly remembered that he’d promised Goldilocks he’d come straight back after feeding his dad. His merman was waiting for him, and Sam had driven them out far enough that he could perch on the railing without anyone noticing.
Goldilocks flexed his tail, the finned tip splashing in the waves. “I can provide suitable payment for the ruined books,” he reassured. “And provide a guard for your sire’s property.”
Sam stopped his pacing. “It was my things that were destroyed, not my dad’s. And the house is inland, with no ocean access.”
“I shall hire a guard suited to land.”
Sam thought about that further. “Like the guard with the tail? Jasper?”
“You may have him if you wish.” Goldilocks nodded. “Jasper is skilled with a sword, more so than his siblings.”
Sam wondered what his dad would think if he suddenly had a long-tailed, sword-wielding nurse. The thought was absurd and amusing enough to cut through his black mood. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m staying well clear of that house.” Sam approached Goldilocks, leaning against the railing next to him. “I don’t want my dad left there alone. If someone” – and Sam wondered about how his mouth wanted to say something– “that destructive and violent is around, I can’t leave him there. Have I ever told you about him?” Aside from talking about taking care of him, Sam didn’t think so. “He’s unwell. He’s usually pretty coherent, but there are bouts of confusion and fear. He’s happy so long as he’s with the birds in the garden, but taking him out can be tough. He struggles to follow what’s happening. Half the time, I think he just doesn’t have the energy for it. He’ll be able to focus on his surroundings for maybe five, ten minutes, and then the focus is gone, and in another five minutes, he’s terrified because he doesn’t know where he is.”
Goldilocks tilted his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Then we shall bring him to Vi’s nest. I will hire suitable nurses to tend to him. There are many houses that would be willing to send companions until we find one that your sire likes.”
Sam snorted.
Goldilocks’s eyes narrowed, and Sam reached out, touching his wrist lightly.
“I’m not laughing at you. It’s a sweet suggestion, but I’m not sure my dad would take suddenly being in another world all that well.”
“If he enjoys birds and gardens,” Goldilocks said, “then I believe he would find Vi’s nest agreeable.”
Sam thought of where they’d had breakfast. The overgrown garden, lush and bursting. The songbirds singing around them. And like a black mark on his brain, an image of his house was thrown up next. His house in disrepair, so bad that Sam knew there had to be mould inside. Damp and disrepair to match the outside. Thing was, aside from the state of his room, Sam couldn’t even remember what the inside looked like. He tried, doing his best to pull up an image of the last time he’d been in there, but there was nothing. A blank void, paired with a headache.