Lost Marbles
The door to the shop opened and sent dust flying into the air. Minty stuck her head out from behind a stack of books to see a young man fidgeting in the doorway. He was wearing a tatty jumper despite the summer sun and he was compulsively tapping the bridge of his thin-framed glasses. He was odd, Minty had to give him that, but by far one of the most normal customers she had ever received. She stared at him a little longer, searching for pointy ears or a tattoo that moved beneath his clothes but found nothing. He was human.
She adjusted her hair, removed the more suspicious looking earrings, placed them in her pocket and made herself visible. Upon seeing her, the boy jumped, his face draining of colour. At first, Minty wondered if she had missed one of the earrings, but then the boy started to speak. He had a soft voice, and he was so nervous that his words all mushed together. All Minty heard was 'sorry' and 'lost'.
"Are you lost?" She asked, gently, as if she were speaking to a frightened kitten rather than a teenager. The boy blushed furiously, and he ducked his head. He mumbled to his feet.
"I'm sorry. I can't hear you. I've got bad ears, you see." That was a lie, but the boy already looked to be on the verge of tears.
"I'm looking for something lost."
She smiled at him, as he raised his head, " Then you've come to the right place. This shop is full of lost things. Buttons, bracelets, slippers, knitting needles. Is there anything, in particular, you are looking for?"
The boy didn't speak for a moment, and Minty wondered if there was something wrong with him. He still looked like he would start crying at any second. "Lost..." his voice was hushed, "lost marbles." For the first time, he looked Minty straight in the eyes. Despite his fidgeting and mumbling, his eyes were alight with determination.
Minty's smiles faltered. "I'm sorry. I don't have any marbles at the moment. I'm sure you could find some elsewhere."
"No! Please." The boy's voice was desperate now, and his hand flung out towards her. "I know. I know about witches and demons and stuff. I know about the marbles."
"Then you should know that I can't talk to you about them. Please leave, unless you want anything normal." Minty turned away, but the boy grabbed her sleeve.
"Please." He stressed. "They're my sister's."
Minty stopped. She could feel her heart break a little. "I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm afraid I can't help you."
"But I already know about magic. That means you don't have to hide anything from me."
Minty refused to look at him.
"Please." He said a final time. "She's only eight."
At this, Minty's resolve broke. She gently removed his hand from her shoulder, noticing how much it shook, and turned to face him.
"Okay." She said. He started to cry, sobbing so violently that he had to sit down in the middle of the shop floor. She called an old blue armchair out of the stacks and manoeuvred him onto it. Once he calmed down a bit more, she grabbed a packet of tissues and a cup of tea. He took them with shaky hands, refusing to look at her due to embarrassment but thankful none the less.
As he sipped his tea, Minty went back into the stacks, moving between the piles of books and shelves stuffed full of odd bits and bobs until she came to the ones at the very back of the shop. Unlike the rest of them, these shelves were neat and dust free with hundreds of jars neatly labelled and as regimented as soldiers. Despite their differences, no customer ever saw them. Minty moved the ladder across the shelves and climbed up it until she was nearly touching the ceiling. With one hand she grabbed a jar labelled, 'Marbles'. It was full to the brim with little glass balls of all different colours and sizes. Carefully, she made her way back down and returned to the boy in the armchair.
She called another chair and a table to join them, a matching set from the Victorian era. She placed the jar on the table and sat, looking carefully at the boy. "You do understand that if your sister has lost her marbles, she is not meant to get them back." The boy nodded. "And you do understand, that to get them back to her, you need to give me something to replace them." He nodded again.
Minty removed the lid of the jar. "What's her name?"
"Kia Penn."
Minty closed her eyes and moved her hand to hover above the jar. The marbles inside began to jostle and roll. A few spilt out over the lip of the jar but disappeared before they hit the table. Eventually, two small marbles, pale pink in colour, rose from the masses and settled into Minty's palm. She opened her eyes. The marbles stopped. They both stared at the two balls in her hand.
"It's a cruel phrase; losing your marbles," Minty said as she replaced the lid of the jar. "It makes fun of the pain we go through and yet, it couldn't be more accurate."
The boy didn't say anything. He just sat and stared at the swirling pink clouds on the marbles' surface. Minty wondered how he was dealing with the fact that Kia's sanity lay in her hands, literally.
"I can't give these to you until you replace them with something else." The boy's face changed rapidly from mesmerised to sad. He slowly reached into his jeans pocket and removed a small vial. Minty took it, lifting it to the light. She smiled sadly. "This will do the trick."
She curled her fingers of the hand that held the marbles. They turned to dust. The boy's face looked alarmed. "It's okay." She reassured. She got up, walked over to the door and opened it. She took a moment to enjoy the beautiful summer sun and the sound of children laughing in the distance. It was a perfect day. She hoped Kia would enjoy it. With an outstretched arm, she unfurled her palm and let the dust fly away on the breeze.
"It's done. You can go and see your sister now."
The boy was crying again but in a happy way. "Thank you." He said, his voice soft but grateful as he left his chair and joined her at the door. For a moment he looked awkward, but then he hugged her.
"It's okay," she whispered, "I'll look after it well." And with that, he left.
Minty watched him go and as he disappeared around the corner, she turned and made her way to the jars at the back of the shop. She didn't use the ladder this time but took a jar from the third shelf up. Gently, she placed the boy's vial in it, the magnitude of his sacrifice bringing tears to her own eyes. At least it would be safe here, among all the other lost things.
