The Crowmaster

I hadn’t noticed anyone standing in the little alcove where the exit door was, and my shock must’ve been visible on my face when I whipped round. The ticket collector gave a self-satisfied smirk, as if he’d been deliberately trying to surprise me.

‘You, actually,’ I said, recovering quickly.

He nodded and pushed back his hat, revealing a head that was almost – but not quite – as bald as the man-baby’s. ‘Well, you found me.’

The ticket collector was short and a little on the podgy side. He looked to be around sixty, but stood with the type of slouch usually reserved for teenagers. It rumpled his uniform and made it look two sizes too big. He smoothed the edges of his thick, bushy moustache while he waited for my reply.

‘Who are you?’ I asked, unable to come up with a less obvious question.

‘Ticket collector,’ he said with a smile. ‘Tickets, please. See?’

‘Who are you really?’

‘I told you, I’m a ticket collector,’ he insisted. ‘Always have been.’ I opened my mouth to argue, but he kept talking. ‘Just like I’m a policeman and always have been. And just like I will for ever be standing behind the curtain in your school canteen, waiting to untie you.’

I blinked slowly. ‘Nope,’ I said. ‘You’ve lost me.’

‘It’s OK,’ he chuckled, ‘it’s not easy to understand. It’ll be years before you figure it out. Forty-four, to be exact.’

My brow was knotted into a frown. I’d come looking for answers, but all I was getting was gobbledegook. ‘Right,’ I stumbled. ‘So… who are you?’

‘The ticket—’

‘What’s your name?’ I sighed, growing tired of this. The man across from me, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying every second.

‘I’ve got lots of names.’

I glared at him. ‘Pick one.’

He thought for a moment. ‘Kyle Alexander.’

‘That’s my name,’ I said.

‘Oh yes,’ he said with a wink. ‘So it is. How about… Joseph?’

‘Joseph. Joseph what?’

‘Just Joseph will do for now,’ he smiled.

The door next to me slid open and a woman came through. She was about my mum’s age, and looked almost as strung-out as Mum had looked as she’d waved me goodbye. A boy of around three was in the woman’s arms. He fiddled with her long hair, not paying us the slightest bit of attention.

The woman gave us a faintly embarrassed smile as she made for the toilet door.

‘Out of order, love,’ Joseph announced. ‘Sorry. The one further along’s fine, though.’

A flicker of irritation flashed on the woman’s face, but she thanked him and carried on along the train.

‘Why did you tell her it’s out of order?’ I asked.

‘Because it will be in a minute,’ Joseph answered. I assumed he was anticipating a big clean-up job when the mega-baby finally emerged. ‘Now I need to get back to work,’ he told me. ‘Lots of tickets needing to be collected today. Was there anything else?’

I had too many questions to ask. They buzzed like a swarm of bees inside my head – one big collective noise that was almost impossible to break down into its component parts.

I fumbled for words. ‘Just… just… everything. What’s happening to me? What’s going on?’

‘Wow, straight for the biggies then,’ Joseph said, sucking in his cheeks. ‘What do you think is happening?’

‘I don’t know!’ I cried, launching into a full-scale rant. ‘That’s why I’m asking you. First my imaginary friend comes back and tries to kill me, then someone else’s appears and tries to do pretty much the exact same thing. I find out my dad’s actually my mum’s imaginary friend, and, I mean, I don’t even want to begin to think about how that’s even biologically possible. I’ve suddenly got these… these… powers, and now it’s like either they’re going crazy or I am, because everywhere I look I’m seeing Mr Mumbles or Caddie or… or…’

‘Or me?’

‘Right,’ I said, my tirade running out of steam. ‘Exactly. Or you.’

Joseph nodded thoughtfully, his eyes studying the smooth lines of the train’s ceiling. He gave a final nod and turned back to me.

‘Yep,’ he said.

I waited expectantly for him to continue. ‘Yep what?’

‘Yep,’ Joseph said, ‘that’s pretty much what’s happening to you. Couldn’t have put it better myself. You hit the nail right on the head.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me—’

‘What, that’s it?’ I spat. ‘You’re not going to tell me anything else?’

‘I think you’ll do a fine job of figuring it out all by yourself.’

He tipped his hat towards me and made for the door that led to the next carriage. I watched him, dumbstruck.

‘I thought you could help me,’ I told him. ‘I thought that was why you were here.’

He paused at the door. For a long moment there was no sound but the clackety-clack of the train on the track. When Joseph finally spoke, the lightness was gone from his voice.

‘I am helping you, Kyle,’ he said. ‘I’m doing everything I can.’

‘Not from where I’m standing.’

He turned round and straightened from his slouch. There was an intensity to his expression that seemed to change the entire shape of his face.

‘You think so?’ he asked, his voice flat and emotionless. He nodded towards the door to the toilet cubicle. ‘Look in there.’

‘What?’ I gasped. ‘No way! There’s someone in there.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yes! I saw him go in. Couldn’t exactly miss him.’

‘There’s a window,’ Joseph said.

I snorted. ‘What, are you saying he’s climbed out? That guy?’