Luke’s Confession

Everything about Christmas was great, but to save blog space let’s skip the part where we open up Christmas stockings and get various gifts including an orange. Also: the part where we spend half an hour driving to church, only to catch the last ten minutes of the mass and then driving home again (which wasn’t particularly a bad thing, although it may have been if we weren’t all in high Christmas sprits.)
I could mention the big meatless lunch, but then you may question me on whether or not I’m a vegetarian and I’ll have to tell you that it’s only my parents who share this dietary desire. Then you’ll ask me what we had instead of meat and I’ll spend a while telling you about our Yorkshire pudding, presumably you won’t know what a Yorkshire pudding is and I’ll have to describe it’s bread like texture and stumble along until I find a suitable description for its taste.
I should move right along from explaining my second Christmas to you. The one that began with a three hour drive to my grandmas (at the beginning of which we stopped in at Watsonia so my dad could get a coffee and argue with the friendly woman for five minutes about the price of it. (“It’s not five dollars!” he demanded several times “yes, it is” the woman repeated as kindly and patiently as possible.)
I may as well completely avoid the third Christmas, which was hosted at our house for some reason (it always used to be at my Grandmas.) I should probably leave out the bit where I stay up until 1am making a calendar. Because most people don’t even think 1am is late and most people won’t understand the point in putting so much effort into my 2009 calendar (much like no one understands why I bothered to spend two days making my family Christmas cards.)
If I leave out all that stuff, then I should be able to hold your attention long enough for you to read the next instalment in The End of Time:

Luke and Annie continued to cautiously approach the veranda. Luke was well aware that Annie was beyond late for school already, but he felt an unbound trust towards the old man – despite the fact he had shot Annie, mere seconds ago. Luke looked at Annie, to make sure she too was in favour of going into the old man’s house, and she smiled slightly.
“Come along you two” sweetly ordered the man with one electric purple eye “the cookies are fresh out of the oven. Hurry along, they won’t stay warm forever” and with that, Luke and Annie obediently followed the man into his shabby mansion.
They walked into the entrance hall - Luke hoped they wouldn’t have to climb the broken stairs up to the next level. The man’s house was dark because all the drapes were closed shut. There was dust covering all open surfaces. Spider webs hung in every place a spider could possibly manage to weave one (the webs were dusty too and appeared to have been unoccupied for quite some time.) The old man’s house looked as though no one had lived in it for years, the grandfather clock had stopped ticking and rats seemed to own the place.
Luke and Annie silently followed the old man to the kitchen, which was equally as neglected as the entrance hall. “Please. Take a seat” the old man said, gesturing towards a couple of overly dusty wooden chairs. Luke didn’t particularly want dust all over his pants, but he also didn’t want to appear rude by dusting the chair off. So they sat down without a word.
The old man slid open a small curtain above the sink – which was filled with unwashed dishes- a burst of light sprung through the window, forcing Luke to squint a little. The old man’s electric purple eye glistened in the sun.

“What happened before?” demanded Luke, his newfound trust for the man didn’t provide an explanation for his sisters sudden reawakening from the dead.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about son” the old man said, but Luke wasn’t a fool and could tell that he knew perfectly well what had happened.
“You shot my sister!” Luke yelled “or was I just imagining that!?” he added sarcastically. The old man sighed an ‘ok, fine, you got me’ sigh and sat down opposite Luke and Annie.
“Do you believe in magic?” the old man asked, leaning forward. Luke blurted out “no” and Annie, just as hastily, said “yes.” Luke shot his sister a warning look, but she didn’t back out of her opinion.
“I don’t know exactly what happened” the man confessed honestly, trying to calm Luke down “but I do know that it was all in your imagination”
“What!?” Luke raged “I didn’t imagine that! I saw you shoot my sister! I saw the blood!”
“Calm down Luke” the man suggested warily. There was a silence as Luke analysed what the man had just said.
“...how... how did you know my name?” Luke questioned, lowering his voice from the previous outburst.
“How do you feel about your powers?” the man asked, then in an attempt to completely sway the conversation from Luke’s ‘how did you know my name’ question, the man stood up and abruptly served out cookies and tea for the three of them.
“The only power I have, is being able to tell who will win reality TV shows just from watching the first episode” Luke admitted, starting to wonder if the man was building up to saying ‘you’re a wizard, Luke’ but he doubted that he would be the next Harry Potter.
“I see. I see” the old man was completely satisfied that Luke had no real powers.

They ate and drank in silence because Luke knew the man wouldn’t give a straight answer to any of the questions swarming his mind.
“You’re sister has been very quiet” the man pointed out “is she ok?” Luke looked at Annie, she was timidly chewing on a biscuit.
“She’s fine” Luke ensured the man “she’s not usually shy. Only around people she thinks are better than her... and people she wants to like her” Luke was proud of himself for figuring his sister out in such a way.
“Ah” the man agreed in understanding, as if he knew several people with the same personality trait “my late wife was much the same. Whenever I was with her she was always very shy” Luke had to suppress a laugh, for the man’s dead wife was likely to have been shy all the time.

Once they had finished their snack, Luke pressed the man for further answers “what’s your name?” he insisted. But, just as Luke had asked his question, Annie fell from her seat to the floor “Annie!” cried Luke, and bent down beside her for the second time that day... or possibly the first (Luke wasn’t sure were reality began and imagination ended anymore.)
“Don’t panic Luke” the old man said calmly “she’s only sleeping”
“You drugged her food!?” Luke yelled, accusing the man of the first possibility that had come into his head.
“Yes” the man said simply “because I need to talk to you” Luke gave into the man’s plan, left his sister on the floor, and sat back in his seat.
“Who are you? Did you shoot my sister? Am I going crazy? Why did you ask me if I believed in magic? Are you a wizard? Am I a wizard? How did you know my name?....” the man interrupted Luke with polite assertiveness.
“You must have many questions” stated the man obviously “and all shall be answered in due time. But first, you must answer my question. Do you believe in magic?”
“I already told you” objected Luke impatiently “I don’t believe in magic”
“Then why did you suspect me to be a wizard?” the man observed sceptically, then added “until you admit your belief in magic, I cannot divulge any of my secrets” he leant back in his chair, apparently willing to wait for Luke to ‘admit his belief.’
“I believe something’s seriously fucked up” began Luke “whether it’s in my head, or yours.... or magic is the reason... I’m willing to hear any explanation.... even if it is magic.” Luke announced, hoping it would be enough to get an answer out of the old man.
“There’s a difference between being ‘willing to hear’ about magic.... and believing what you hear” Luke groaned at the crazy, electric purple eyed mans comment. There would be no way of getting any answers unless Luke confessed his belief in magic, a confession he hadn’t even accepted himself yet.

Luke became increasingly edgy and impatient as the silent minutes crept by. He looked to Annie, she hadn’t even stirred since her sudden collapse to the floor.
“She’s not dead is she?” asked Luke, even though he trusted her to be asleep.
“No, she’s not dead” the old man sighed “But, she will wake up soon. So if you want any answers you’d better hurry up”
Luke thought silently for a while. He weighed up all the reasons why he should and shouldn’t believe in magic.
“Alright” Luke decided to give in “I do believe in magic. I didn’t until today, but I can’t think of any explanation that can explain how my sister didn’t really get shot... the only explanations I can think up... are magical.”
As Luke spoke his words he began to believe in them, but he convinced the old man more than he convinced himself.
“In that case” rejoiced the man “it’s high time I did some explaining.”