Friends, Small Talk, and a Gift

"Close your eyes," Hope said.

"What for?" Paul asked.

"You'll find out in a moment."

He placed one hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and the other on Paul's.

"You can open your eyes now," Hope said nervously.

They were in Old Williams's Rose Garden. The roses looked vivid in the morning light, but half of Old Williams's house had collapsed.

Elizabeth stared at the damaged part of the house in surprise. "How did this..."

"Why are we here?" Paul asked, looking at Hope.

"Just a little trick... Well, as a member of a cultist family, I do have a few special 'witchcraft' abilities."

Paul nodded, seemingly unconcerned. He showed little surprise. Maybe everything that had happened before had made him more accepting of the strange.

He glanced around. "Let me guess. Does this have something to do with you?"

"What makes you think that?" Hope asked curiously.

"Your face looks like the expression you'd make if the toilet in your room broke."

Hope exhaled and rubbed his forehead. "Don't bring up that toilet again."

Hope crouched down. He had carefully controlled the destination of his "uncertainty" teleportation, bringing the three of them to a spot beside the cellar. Now he opened it.

The creature's corpse came into view.

The Great Night Hawk had died on its back, its beak agape. Long suffering had left a trace of resentment in its eyes. Blood from its belly had stained some of its feathers and the entire cellar. Confined by the cellar's shape, it couldn't spread its wings fully, but they were still enormous and terrifying.

Elizabeth and Paul both took a step back.

"This is what did it," Hope said.

"It looks like... a night hawk," Paul said.

"It is a night hawk."

"But I never knew night hawks could get that big."

"I didn't know either before last night... Ah, well, actually, last night was my first time seeing a night hawk. Back then, they were just cute little things. Then the second one I saw was this."

"You got into a fight with it. Why?"

"I was about to tell you, Paul. You should watch out for night hawks from now on. Even just judging by the scales on your wrist, you can hardly call yourself normal. Night hawks are hostile toward people like us."

"Hostile... Will they attack me?"

"No, not usually. They're afraid to. You shouldn't attack them either; that would be a lot of trouble. But if you run into difficulties, they won't mind giving you a shove from behind."

Elizabeth spoke up. "Is it because of the Star Hemp?"

"Yeah. It wanted to trap me here."

"But you killed it instead. How?"

"With a shotgun... Old Williams's shotgun. I ran out of shells at first, but luckily, Old Williams had two guns. And just as luckily, you'd loaded both of them."

"That was badass, bro," Paul said. "You weren't this badass before."

"I know I'm badass. I knew it when I fired the gun yesterday," Hope said.

He scratched his head, licked his lips, and glanced awkwardly at Elizabeth. "About Old Williams's house..."

"It wasn't your fault," Elizabeth said.

"Either way, I was involved, so I'll do my best to pay for the damage... Just not right now. I don't have a penny to my name."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, Hope. If I hadn't gone to boil the Star Hemp, that night hawk wouldn't have been drawn here in the first place. Do you want me to compensate you? I still have some money."

Finding the person responsible amid a tangle of events was as difficult as sorting out a knotted ball of twine.

Tracing the chain of events back, Old Williams was partly to blame for leaving behind a recipe without writing down a warning. But he was already dead, and the two people most closely involved didn't want to hold each other responsible. That made for the best possible solution.

Hope shrugged. "Then let's pretend this never happened?"

"It never happened."

Paul waved. "I should get going, you two. I didn't tell my parents when I went to look for Hope. If I don't get back soon, they'll worry... Don't go saying behind my back that I'm a baby who can't leave his parents. They're just so good to me."

Was he worrying too much? Maybe someone had said it before—perhaps a few of his friends, but more likely young people he didn't get along with.

"No one would say that," Hope replied with a smile. "It's something to be proud of."

"Good." Paul patted Hope on the shoulder. "Hey... I know I wasn't much help, but if you need anything, I still hope you'll come to me. I feel a lot stronger now. I could take on two Colins."

The red-haired young man was named Colin.

"Colin might not agree, but you've already helped me plenty."

Paul walked farther and farther away.

"You didn't tell him what Old Whateley wanted to do?" Elizabeth asked.

"There was no need. He's going to college—North Oak University. Do you know it?"

"Of course. North Oak State borders Bay State—we're standing in Bay State right now—and the universities in the two states hold a sailing race every year. Last year, Miskatonic University came second, and North Oak University won."

"Sounds like a good university."

"It is. I should get going too. I came here to sort through the books my great-uncle left behind. I was supposed to leave last night, but by the time I'd finished sorting them, it was too late."

It turned out Elizabeth had driven herself there. Her car was parked in Old Williams's backyard. It was an old-fashioned van—though perhaps that was the newest model now. Its bright red paint made it look nothing like the worn-out cars in old photographs.

"This is Nancy's car. Nancy's my best friend," Elizabeth said. Suddenly, she pulled a gleaming silver object from inside her coat and pressed it into Hope's hand.

"You can borrow it. Give it back to me next time we meet."

Hope stared at it in surprise. It was a small silver pocket watch, just a little over an inch across, with a matching silver cover and almost no ornamentation. When he held it to his ear, he could hear the hands ticking.

"You don't even have anything in your room to tell the time," Elizabeth said.

"It's amazing, so beautiful," Hope said. "I have no reason to refuse your kindness."

The little red car drove away slowly, leaving Hope alone in the Rose Garden.

He breathed in a lungful of rose-scented air.

He knew he had to return to the Whateley House, but the helpless loneliness he'd felt yesterday when facing the Great Night Hawk had vanished without a trace. Whatever happened, in this unfamiliar world, he had two people he could trust.

Hope closed his eyes and pictured the small room in his mind. But he found he couldn't use "uncertainty."

No one was watching him, and there wasn't a second Great Night Hawk. Someone was watching the small room.