“Yep, sorry, boyo,” Jason said. “I got you. Ring-ring. Ring-ring.”
“The sound of the ringing phone startled me from my thoughts,” Dirk Dasher said, sitting back up. “It’d been three days since she darkened my doorway, and I was no closer to solving the crime. I needed a break in the case.” He brought his hand up to his head, thumb and pinky extended. “Dirk Dasher.”
“Mr. Dasher!” Jacqueline cried from the other end of the line. “The Beast, it’s here! Eek, save me! Eeeeeeek!”
Given the severity of the situation and the art of telling a good story, Arthur was unsurprised when the necessary racing-against-the-clock montage lasted a further ten minutes. David (Dirk) then froze when he stumbled upon a most horrifying sight: the body of Jacqueline St. Bartholomew, a victim of the Beast.
Dirk raised his fists to the sky and shouted, “Nooooo!”
Jason rattled the doorknob.
Dirk’s head jerked toward the closet, eyes narrowed under his fedora. “Someone’s here. Is it the Beast?” He stood upright, crooked fangs bared. “Face me, Beast! I’ll make you pay for what you did to Agatha and Jacqueline!”
David rushed to the closet, pulling off the hat and trench coat. A moment later, a doll slid out dressed in Dirk Dasher’s clothes. Jason picked it up and set it in the middle of the room. Arthur raised an eyebrow when Jason came back to them.
Jason shrugged. “It’s an independent production.”
“There I stood,” David called from the closet as Dirk. “Ready to face the monster who had stolen so much from me. My lady. My sobriety. My purpose. It was either going to be him or me. One of us wouldn’t be walking out of here. Alive.”
And then David burst from the closet. He wasn’t wearing anything now, his thick hair bouncing around him as he stomped into the room, claws on display, growling ferociously. “Dirk Dasher,” he growled, spittle coating his lips. “I knew you’d come here. We all have monsters inside of us. The difference between us is that I let mine come out to play.”
Arthur frowned slightly, cocking his head to the side.
David pounced on the doll, claws out and shredding the coat. He reared his head back, teeth bared, before he bit down on the fedora, jerking it off and furiously shaking his head. The doll fell over with David on top of it. The mauling of Dirk Dasher was a sight to behold, and by the time the yeti was finished, Dirk’s head had been flung across the room, his body falling to the floor.
David stood slowly, standing in the middle of the spotlight. “The monster,” he whispered, “is me. Fin.”
He bowed.
Jason clapped hard. Arthur followed suit, Linus joining in. It was then that Arthur noticed a change come over David. As the sound of applause went on, he slumped in on himself, brushing the thick hair off his forehead so it wouldn’t cover his eyes. He didn’t meet their gazes, fidgeting from one foot to the other.
“Fair play, lad,” Jason said, going over to him and clapping him on the shoulder. “Best performance yet.”
David shrugged, surreptitiously glancing at Arthur and Linus before looking away. “Messed up a couple of times,” he muttered.
“Didn’t even notice,” Jason assured him. “And even if you did, what do we say?”
David rolled his eyes in a way that reminded Arthur of Phee. “As long as I did my best, the rest doesn’t matter.”
“Exactly,” Jason said, beaming down at him. “Gotta admit, the dress was a nice touch. B get that for you?”
David nodded. “Said a dame like Jacqueline needed a killer dress.” He tugged on Jason’s hand, pulling him down. Jason leaned over, and David whispered in his ear.
Jason nodded along. “Right. Right. You don’t say. Interesting. Well, I suppose you should ask him that, yeah? Don’t think he’d mind in the slightest.”
David looked panicked, shaking his head furiously.
Jason said, “Hey. You got this, okay?” He stood upright. “David, this is Arthur Parnassus. Other one is Linus Baker. Go ahead, boyo. Mind your manners, but always, always ask questions if you have them. Good people don’t mind questions.”
David sighed, still holding on to Jason’s hand. He stared down at his feet. He mumbled something that Arthur couldn’t make out.
“Could you repeat that, please?” Linus asked gently. “I’m afraid my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”
David scowled at the floor. “I said, was that good enough to get into your school? I know it’s not … normal, but I worked really hard on it.”
Linus frowned as Arthur cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”
Jason laid a hand on David’s shoulder. “Boyo here got it into his head that he needed to perform for admission into your school. Thought you would need to see how talented he is before you’d consider him.” His tone suggested that anything other than effusive praise wouldn’t be tolerated.
Arthur rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m afraid we’ve gone about this all wrong.”
David’s head shot up, his anxiety clear. “I’m sorry! I can do something different to—”
Arthur smiled. “No, David. You don’t have a single thing to apologize for. It is I who should be apologizing to you.”
David blinked, glancing up at Jason before looking at Arthur again. “Um. O … kay?”
Arthur nodded. “You see, I think there might have been some miscommunication. We are not here to have you perform for us, though I adored every single second of it. No, we’re here for something else entirely: to make our case as to why we’d like for you to choose us.”
David’s mouth dropped open. It closed a moment later with an audible click. Then, sounding baffled, he said, “I get to choose?”
“Yes,” Linus said. “You get to choose. Think of this not as us interviewing you, but rather you interviewing us. Ask us whatever questions you wish. If we can answer, we will.” As Linus spoke, Arthur moved through the room, stopping in front of the desk. He turned the chair, sat down on it, and folded one leg over the other. Linus joined him after a moment, hand on his shoulder.
David eyed them with suspicion, Jason still standing guard above him. “What time would I have to go to bed?”
“Nine,” Arthur said. “Growing boys need rest.”
“Will I have homework?”
