The Disaster Was Upon Him

[Part 1: Mental Torment]

"Jack Martin, right? That's the name, isn't it?"

Sullivan murmured little Jack's real name.

"I only just heard that a hero like you had come to Three Sheep Town. I've never seen you around these past few months. Perhaps you've always been a well-behaved, good kid."

As he spoke, Mr. Sullivan fiddled with his knuckles, then clasped his hands together, fingers interlaced, and rested them on his knees. Every movement was proper and dignified—nothing about him suggested he was a cannibal.

But little Jack knew that the man standing before him right now was a robber and bandit from the Perfume Bottle Gang, with not a shred of "elegance" or "refinement" about him.

"How should I address you?" Jack forced down his overwhelming fear and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "I... I'm not ready yet. I... why did you suddenly come to my house..."

Sullivan didn't rush to answer. He took off his hat and hung it on the hook of a small cabinet.

To little Jack, even that short walk of a dozen or so steps, including Mr. Sullivan's act of taking off his hat, was enough to make his heart jump again and again. Only when Mr. Sullivan returned to his seat did he resume his relaxed, untroubled air.

The bandit was like an elder, a gentle and kind teacher, preparing to give his first lesson to little Jack, a somewhat disobedient bad student.

"My full name is Sullivan Okopela." As he spoke, Mr. Sullivan changed his gesture. Slowly and with a smooth, fluid motion, he moved his right hand through the air as if caressing a lover's delicate cheek.

When the gesture ended, the door to the hall behind little Jack closed.

It was as if an invisible hand had shut