The Archfornicator of Canterbury

60 Og comes clean

The house Og lived in would not be receiving prizes from home improvement magazines any time soon. It looked like it had last been given a new coat of paint when Moses was in diapers. The few gutters that the house still had looked like they would fall to the ground at the slightest sign of rain. The yard was littered with tractor parts and used tyres.

Og parked the car, pulled the tarp over it gently as if tucking it in for the night and locked the barn doors. Outside, the air was fresh and crisp. It was unusually cool for summer, even at that time of the night.

"It's starting to get a bit nippy. What do you say we go inside Jack."

"eeaaa"

"You probably wouldn't be too interested in a sandwich. How about a beer then."

"eeaaa"

Og went foraging in the kitchen while Jack sat on the couch. He could certainly use a bit of rest. First things first, though. Og returned carrying a bottle of Gainsbourg in each hand. He handed one to Jack, who was happy to notice that the bottle was freezing cold.

"Cheers."

"sheeesshh"

"Jack I have to confess something."

"uh huh"

"The rock in your pocket. The one I said I'd thrown away."

"uh huh"

"It didn't look like an ordinary rock. I figured I'd keep it as my reward for fishing you out of the river. You didn't look like you'd mind much. Not in your condition. Sorry for bullshitting you."

Og looked like a cat who had just been caught trawling in the fishbowl. Jack shrugged.

"noohh oorrriiieesshh"

"Sit tight. I'll go and get it for you."

Og disappeared upstairs and came back a moment later with the stone from Shannara in his hand. He placed it on the coffee table. This is turning out to be my day after all, Jack thought.

The Archfornicator of Canterbury by Olli-Pekka Rinta-Koski
is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Australia License.