[CLICK]
GERTRUDE
You’re certain you don’t mind?
WALTER
Not at all. Honestly, when you said you would come to me rather than have me come to you, I assumed this wasn’t going to be…official.
GERTRUDE
Yes, well.
People don’t often send messages ahead of time. They simply…come to give their statements. I admit I was intrigued.
WALTER
I’m here most of the hours the Institute is open. Simple as that.
GERTRUDE
Still. I have a…feeling, shall we say, that your statement doesn’t need to be available for research.
WALTER
I don’t think you’re wrong about that.
Are you ready?
GERTRUDE
One moment.
Statement of Walter Sims, regarding—how would you term it?
WALTER
Let’s just say “a list.”
GERTRUDE
Recorded direct from subject, twenty-sixth of January, 1990.
Whenever you’re ready.
WALTER (Statement)
I’ve worked here for almost three years now—ever since we found out we were going to be parents. My mother made it clear that she was not going to make herself responsible for what she termed “my careless mistakes,” and Sarah’s only family is a sister over in America with a family of her own. My choices were to drop out of school and get a job or let us both starve. Put like that, it’s no choice at all, really.
I’d thought to go to sea. My best mate and I always talked about it, and he had a job on a commercial deep-sea fishing vessel, so I asked him about getting a job. He talked me out of it, though. The captain’s a bit…odd, he says. He knew his father-in-law was looking for a handyman and suggested I apply. The old man and I suited each other well enough, and he hired me on the spot.
The work isn’t hard. I’m a general man about the place. I do repairs, painting, gardening, a bit of housework. He buys the groceries, but I put them away. Sometimes I do a bit of cooking for him. He’s not infirm or an invalid—well, obviously—but he can’t climb ladders or do a lot of bending over, so anything regarding hard labor, I handle for him. (heh) My biggest job these days is keeping next door’s grandson from getting at the entire cherry crop in the summer. They hang pretty near the property line, and the lad’s learned to climb pretty well these last couple years.
It’s nice for a lot of reasons, probably the biggest of which is that I can bring my boy with me sometimes. Sarah’s trying to finish her degree, at least part time, so on days she has classes, I bring him to work. He adores the old man—it’s the closest he’s got to a grandfather—and my best mate’s boy is only a bit older than him, so they play together. Can’t separate them with a pry bar. They’re good lads, both of them.
Neither one was here the first day I saw it.
It was just after the first of the year. The couple next door must have had some sort of party; there were paper streamers and fragments of fireworks all over this side of the fence. I was picking up all the bits when I saw a figure standing by the house.
He wore a suit, a three-piece suit. All of it was black as night, except for his tie, which was pure white—or so I thought at the time. His hands and face were white as snow, too. No, more than that. He was colorless. Completely devoid of any color. He was staring up at the house. When I got a little closer, I realized he was staring up at the old man’s bedroom window. He had a clipboard in one hand—black, like his suit—and a pen in the other. It was the only splash of real color about him, and it was gold, very pale gold. Like a shaft of light.
I saw him write something down on the clipboard. I called out to him, just like I did when you came up—told him this was private property. There’s a place down the road with an orchard open to the public, and the numbers are reversed, so sometimes we get people coming here by mistake. It’s not usually a big deal.
But this one…he looked at me. He didn’t have any eyebrows, or, well, they were so pale they didn’t show up, but I thought he looked…surprised. Like he hadn’t expected anyone to be there. I asked him again if I could help him, but he just—he vanished. It was like he’d never been there at all.
It gave me a bit of a turn, I won’t deny it, but for the most part, I shrugged it off. Either I was having a hallucination, or he’d just moved very quickly. I wouldn’t ever have thought of it again, except that a couple of days later, I saw him again.
He was in the same place, just underneath one of the cherry trees. Matter of fact, I’d seen the branches rattling and thought it was next door’s grandson again, climbing up. (soft laugh) Obviously there aren’t any cherries this time of year; the trees are bare as bones. But we’d had something of a freeze the night before, and the branches were slick with ice. I was worried he might slip and hurt himself, so I went over to get him down. But when I got closer, I saw the same man again.
This time, he was looking away from the house, towards the Stokers’ place. He was peering very intently over there, not moving except to make a note on his clipboard. I called out to him again, a little louder and a little less friendly this time, wanting to know what he was doing and where he came from.
He vanished again, but this time, just after he disappeared, the old man came out onto the porch here and wanted to know what was going on. I told him about the strange visitor, and the fact that he just kept…leaving so quickly.
To my surprise, the old man got pretty agitated. He wasn’t mad at me—wasn’t even mad, really. Just…agitated. He told me not to have anything to do with the man if he turned up again. I asked if he knew him, and he said no, not exactly, but that he’d been around enough to know something related to one of the Fourteen when he heard it.
We’ve talked, of course. I knew what he meant. He obviously couldn’t say which one it was, not without seeing it for himself, but he told me to keep away from him, not make eye contact, and hope he didn’t turn his attention to me. I asked if I should come talk to someone from your Institute, and he said no again. Said it was such a small thing, not worth bothering about. Nothing for you all to really sink your teeth into. And he said he didn’t want you lot touching me, either.
So I left it alone. Kept my head down and got back to work. Until yesterday.
Both the boys were here. I let them “help” me a bit, but, well, they’re two. Eventually I told them to go play on the porch while I cleaned out the gutters. I don’t want them running about under the ladders when I’m up high. It’s a good way for someone to get hurt.
I was just coming down when I saw him again. Standing behind the skeletal remains of the privet hedge, facing the house again. Facing the porch. He was watching the boys, just as intently as he’d looked at all the others, but this time he was watching the boys.
I didn’t call out to him this time. I jumped off the ladder and went for him. When I got close enough, I shouted, “Hey!” Just to get his attention, you know, before I grabbed him.
Well…it worked, insofar as it got his attention. He looked even more surprised than the first two times. This time, I was close enough to see the barely-there shape of his eyebrows, the thin lines of his mouth, the way light just slid off his suit, still solid black except for the tie. This time, though, I was close enough to see it wasn’t pure white. There were faint lines and whorls in it—like a feather from a gigantic wing. But when I grabbed at him, he vanished again.
This time, though…he dropped his clipboard.
I picked it up and studied it. I half expected it to be some oddity as well, like black paper written on in gold ink, but…no, it was perfectly ordinary stock, good quality paper, and it was neatly written in a deep black ink. The handwriting was clear as daylight, as were the contents of the note.
It was a list of names. Seven of them. With yours truly right at the top.
GERTRUDE
Do you still have the list?
WALTER
No. I was almost done reading it when it…disintegrated in my hand, I guess.
But I have it memorized. It burned itself into my mind. Not just the names, but each one had a pair of dates after it, separated by a single dash. Like a range.
GERTRUDE
Seven names, you say? And what were the dates?
WALTER
If you mean “what do they mean”…I’m not sure, but I have a guess. I know what the first date means, anyway, and I have my suspicions about the second. But the list itself…
GERTRUDE
Let’s record it. For posterity.
WALTER
(deep breath) Walter Sims, fourth July 1976 to seventh April 1990.
Alastair Koskiewicz, twenty-sixth January 1935 to eighteenth March 1997.
Daniel Stoker, first May 1990 to fourteenth August 2013.
Gertrude Robinson, seventeenth December 1934 to fifteenth May 2015.
[GERTRUDE INHALES SHARPLY]
WALTER
Timothy Stoker, thirteenth January 1985 to—and that’s when it started to dissolve.
It was like a drop of black ink on the page, obscuring the second half of the date, and then it just…spread. It absorbed the bottom three names and dates first. Then it burned all the way through the paper, and the clipboard, and just kept spreading until…until it was just dust in the wind.
I talked to Kier—my best mate—when he turned up to get his son, while the old man was helping them (slight laugh) conspire to let them spend the night. Gave him the whole rundown. I think it would have stopped there, except that while I was telling him, I suddenly remembered that, right before the paper started dissolving, when it was still just the ink blot—for just a moment, where the dates at the bottom would have been, it coalesced into a drawing of an eye.
And I swear it blinked.
That’s when we sent the note round. I’m sorry to make you come all the way out here. I’d have been perfectly willing to come to you if you’d been willing to work with me.
GERTRUDE
I don’t know that this would keep.
Did you see any of the dates on the last two?
WALTER
No. Didn’t need to, really. Saw the names, which means I know the first dates, and—oh, hang on.
[FAINT SINGING CAN BE HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND, INDISTINCT AT FIRST BUT GRADUALLY LOUDER UNTIL THE WORDS TO “FISH OF THE SEA” CAN BE MADE OUT]
[A SUDDEN PATTER OF RUNNING FOOTSTEPS]
YOUNG JON
Papa!
WALTER
Hey, there’s my boy.
[RUSTLE OF FABRIC]
All right there, Kier?
KEEPER
All right there, Walt.
Ma’am.
WALTER
This is Gertrude Robinson. The Archivist at the Magnus Institute. Ms. Robinson, this is Kieran Blackwood, my best mate, and this is my boy.
Go on, say hello.
YOUNG JON
Hello! I’m Jonny. I’m two and one-quarter.
GERTRUDE
A pleasure to meet you both. And who is this?
KEEPER
(gently) It’s all right, Wickie. Tell her your name.
YOUNG MARTIN
(mumbled) Martin.
YOUNG JON
He’s my very best friend in the whole wide world. And that’s a very wide place. Uncle Kier told me that, and he’s almost the smartest man there is, so he should know.
[WALTER AND THE KEEPER BOTH LAUGH]
GERTRUDE
Yes, well…that’s wonderful.
WALTER
Tell you what. Ms. Robinson’s never seen how fast you can run. Why don’t you two race to see who can be the first one to run all the way around the house and get back?
YOUNG JON
We can do that! Come on, Martin!
YOUNG MARTIN
Ready, steady, go!
[POUNDING FOOTSTEPS AND CHILDISH GIGGLING RECEDE INTO THE BACKGROUND]
GERTRUDE
Hmm. How long do you estimate this will take?
KEEPER
As long as we need. They’ll probably race around to the far side of the house, slow down, and sing a few rousing choruses of the song I taught them a couple months ago.
It’s the one that goes, “La la la, la la la la la, the grown-ups are talking.”
WALTER
They’re two, not stupid.
GERTRUDE
…Right.
KEEPER
You’ve told her, then?
WALTER
Aye. We just finished up.
KEEPER
Terminus?
GERTRUDE
…How do you know about the Fourteen?
WALTER
…Ma’am, you do know I work for Alastair Koskiewicz, right?
GERTRUDE
Yes, I…oh.
Oh, I see.
He told you?
WALTER
In bits and bobs. Enough to avoid them, anyway. Or at least I think that was his intention. Doesn’t always work.
KEEPER
Obviously.
GERTRUDE
Of course.
…
(sigh) Yes. I believe you’re correct. The person you saw was likely an agent of Terminus.
WALTER
Thought as much.
Well. Suppose I’d best let the old man know. Seventh of April, that’s…what, three weeks before you leave on your next run?
KEEPER
More or less. Depends on the tides, really.
WALTER
Well, I should be able to get supplies ordered in, at least, but that’s a bit early to have the garden laid out. He’ll need to get someone else for that.
GERTRUDE
I must say, you’re taking this remarkably well.
WALTER
What do you expect me to do? Start crying? Curl up in a ball in a dark room and mourn?
At least I know. And I’m not ill or anything—not that I know of, anyway—so it’s going to be an accident. It’ll be sudden. Which means that, if I hadn’t seen this list, it would catch us all off-guard. Now I’ve got time to put things in order. I can make arrangements to make sure Sarah and Jonny will be taken care of. I can get whatever work around here needs to be done finished, or at least started.
There’s always more work to do, I suppose. Always one more job. But at least I won’t have to worry that I didn’t do all I could.
KEEPER
He says, as though he had ever, in his life, put forth less than one hundred percent effort into anything he did.
[WALTER LAUGHS]
WALTER
That’s as may be. But still.
I’m sorry I won’t get to see my boy grow up. I can’t imagine what he and Martin will be like when they’re our age, or when they’re thirty, or when they’re old men.
You, I can easily imagine as an old man. Some grizzled old lighthouse keeper with a weatherbeaten face and snow-white hair, staring out over the storm-tossed ocean and longing…
KEEPER
Blackwoods don’t go white. We go silver.
You know I’ll look out for them for you, right?
WALTER
I thought that went without saying. But…thank you.
[SOUNDS OF CAR TIRES ON GRAVEL DRIVE]
KEEPER
Incoming.
WALTER
(sigh) Damn. Hoped we could get you out of here before he got back.
[CAR DOOR SHUTS]
[FOOTSTEPS, PUNCTUATED BY THE REGULAR THUNK OF A CANE]
ALASTAIR
Trudy.
GERTRUDE
Alastair.
ALASTAIR
And what brings you out to the haunts of coot and hearn?
WALTER
She came to get my statement about the man I saw.
ALASTAIR
(gruffly) Told you to have nothing to do with him. Or the Institute. You want them to mark you?
WALTER
I think it’s a bit late for that. He showed up yesterday and was watching the boys, and—well, he dropped his clipboard. List of names and dates.
ALASTAIR
…
(more gently) How long have you got?
WALTER
Ten weeks, give or take. Enough time to finish the painting. Patch the roof over the dormer. I might even be able to get that shed built for you. I can definitely get the ground prepped, but I think you’ll need to get someone else to do the planting this year.
ALASTAIR
How can you think of that at a time like this, what?
WALTER
Like I told Ms. Robinson here, what else am I supposed to do? Spend the rest of my life mourning that I won’t have more time? That just wastes the time I do have.
ALASTAIR
You’re facing down the End—
WALTER
I’m facing death.
GERTRUDE
It is the same thing.
WALTER
I can see how they’d get lumped together, but they’re really not. Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.
[A BRIEF SILENCE]
[RUNNING FOOTSTEPS]
WALTER
(audibly grinning) Look out, here comes trouble.
YOUNG MARTIN
Granddad! Granddad!
ALASTAIR
All right, come here, you rips. What have you been up to?
YOUNG JON
We were just racing around the house and then we saw a skylark, honest we did, and Martin told me the poem about it, and—
YOUNG MARTIN
And then it flew away and, and we heard your car and came to see you, and here you are!
YOUNG JON
(whispering loudly) Papa, is Mr. K’s surprise ready?
WALTER
(matching his volume) Just about.
ALASTAIR
(also whispering loudly) I’m not deaf, laddie buck.
WALTER
Why don’t you two go wash your hands and set the table for tea? I trust you to be careful.
YOUNG MARTIN/YOUNG JON
Yes, sir!
[RUNNING FEET, A SCREEN DOOR BANGING SHUT]
GERTRUDE
Well. I won’t take up any more of your time. I suppose I’d best be getting back to the Institute.
ALASTAIR
Oh, hang the Institute, Trudy. Surely your assistants can spare you for the afternoon. I’m sure Mendelson won’t mind, what?
GERTRUDE
Mendelson retired more than fifteen years ago. James Wright is the current head of the Institute.
ALASTAIR
Wright? That little dog’s todger?
GERTRUDE
He does well. It surprised me, too.
I—I shouldn’t.
KEEPER
You’re not even a little curious to see what those two little nippers have conjured up as a surprise for Alastair’s birthday?
GERTRUDE
Speaking of those two, I am curious why Jonny calls you “Mr. K”.
ALASTAIR
“Koskiewicz” is a bit of a mouthful for a two-year-old.
WALTER/KEEPER
(simultaneously and accurately mimicking Jon’s tones) Two and a quarter.
GERTRUDE
So why don’t they both call you “Granddad?”
WALTER
We used to refer to him that way for both, but once Jonny started talking, he decided that if Martin can’t call my mother “Grandmother,” he wasn’t going to steal Martin’s grandfather. He wanted Martin to have someone of his very own.
ALASTAIR
Gertrude, he’s Lily’s boy.
GERTRUDE
(softly) My God.
WALTER
I did tell you Kier got me a job with his father-in-law. Did you just not make the connection?
GERTRUDE
No, I—I didn’t.
How is Lily these days?
[ALASTAIR MAKES A NOISE BETWEEN A SPUTTER AND A GROWL]
KEEPER
Lily’s…fine, ma’am.
ALASTAIR
Should’ve stayed at the Institute and left her to be raised by wolves. Would’ve solved a lot of problems.
KEEPER
Aye, but then we wouldn’t have our Wickie. And I wouldn’t trade him for a king’s ransom.
ALASTAIR
Hmm, yes, yes. Thank God he takes after his father, what?
GERTRUDE
…I take it she hasn’t improved with maturity, then.
ALASTAIR
Let’s just say there’s a reason Martin spends most of his days here when Kieran’s away for work.
[DOOR CREAKS OPEN]
YOUNG MARTIN
U-um, ‘scuse me. Are—are you going to stay for tea, Ms. Robinson?
GERTRUDE
I really shouldn’t.
ALASTAIR
Come on, Trudy. Just an hour or two.
I have missed you, what?
Say you’ll join us.
YOUNG MARTIN
Please?
[A SHORT PAUSE]
GERTRUDE
Since you ask so politely…I’d be delighted.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
GERTRUDE
Final notes.
I…I really don’t quite know what to say here. The statement itself is…fairly straightforward. Obviously those dates bear watching, but I suppose I can’t be certain of them. Of all the abilities I seem to have developed in the last twenty-five years, the ability to Know the future is not one of them.
Still, I suppose finding a way to warn the Stokers would not go amiss. Mr. Sims did give me a bit more to go on there.
I am not made of stone. I do feel very keenly for that young father and his…situation. He did finally get the chance to give me the last two names on the list, and I suppose it’s no surprise that they belonged to his son and his godson. (heh) They’re quite a pair, those two. I admit that I’m somewhat relieved the dates on their names were obscured before he could see them. No parent should have to know when their child is going to die.
And he has given me much to think about. I have a date. If his statement is accurate, I have a little over twenty-five years to accomplish all I need to accomplish. Of course, it’s entirely possible that those dates are the absolute limit, not the concrete end—that I will live no longer than that—but…well. That should give me time, if I work hard at it.
He’s right. There will always be more to do. (heh) Unless I fail, and it all ends. Perhaps that’s why the last three dates are—no. No, I have to believe that these rituals can be stopped, will be stopped. And now I have even more of a reason to work at them than before.
Honestly, I’m not sure what about this whole experience has shaken me more. Finding out the date of my own death…(voice hitches) or meeting my grandson.
I don’t think I’ll make a file in the Archives for this one.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[LONG, HEAVILY CHARGED SILENCE]
MELANIE
What. The. Fuck.
PAST ARCHIVIST
(softly) Oh, God.
SASHA
Gertrude Robinson was your grandmother?
PAST MARTIN
I—I didn’t know…
MARTIN
Neither did I. I don’t—
It kind of explains a lot.
ARCHIVIST
Like what?
MARTIN
Like why she avoided me? Like why errands to the Archives were the only ones Diana never sent me on?
PAST MARTIN
A-and it’s—when, when Elias—when Jonah made me experience her death. I-it was—you said it wasn’t usually that intense.
Was that why? I could f-feel her thoughts and emotions because we’re not just connected by the Eye, we’re—related.
ARCHIVIST
I—
[STATIC BEGINS, SOFTLY AT FIRST BUT GRADUALLY BUILDING]
Yes.
No one ever knew. No one apart from Alastair Koskiewicz, and Liliana herself, ever knew that Gertrude gave birth shortly before being appointed Archivist. The baby was placed with Alastair’s parents, for a while anyway, but they were quite elderly and died within a few months of each other four years later, at which time Alastair resigned his position in Research to raise her. Gertrude always made absolutely sure that nobody knew about Liliana. The one and only time she ever tried to reach out to her, Liliana made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with the woman who had given her life and nothing else, as far as she was concerned.
Gertrude didn’t know about you until that day, but afterward, you became the single driving force behind her war against the Fears. She worried that the appearance of the eye on the list might mean that the Ceaseless Watcher had taken an interest in you, and she became ruthless in her zeal to keep it away from you. She spoke with you only twice after that day, taking care to be in disguise and using a false name, just in case.
When she found out you had joined the Institute, she was devastated and terrified in equal measures. It was only when Elias Bouchard did not come down to the Archives to casually mention that he had hired Alastair Koskiewicz’s grandson that she realized her steps to protect you had been, in some small way, successful, and Jonah Magnus had no idea of the connection between her and you. Still, she redoubled her efforts, becoming ever more ruthless in her determination to stop the rituals, to make the world—
MARTIN
J-Jon. Jon!
[STATIC ABRUPTLY STOPS]
ARCHIVIST
Wh—(realizes) Oh, God. Martin, I’m sorry, I—
MARTIN
It’s okay. It’s okay. Just—settle down, okay?
ARCHIVIST
Okay.
Okay, I—
(sighs) Are you three all right?
MELANIE
Do you all need a minute?
PAST MARTIN
Yeah. Thanks, Melanie.
MELANIE
Sure.
[CHAIRS CREAKING AND SCRAPING]
SASHA
We’ll probably be down in the tunnels. Whenever you’re ready.
[FOOTSTEPS, DOOR CLOSING]
[SILENCE, EXCEPT FOR SLIGHTLY RAGGED BREATHING]
TIM
(softly) They moved.
Grandmother and Grandfather, they—just before Danny was born. They’d always lived on this little farm, but they abruptly decided they wanted something smaller and moved to a flat not far from where we were living at the time. We moved a few months later. I never knew why, but…
PAST ARCHIVIST
Y-you think it was because Gertrude…found them. Tried to, to warn them. About Danny, about you.
PAST MARTIN
Oh, Tim.
[FABRIC RUSTLES, SOME MINOR SCRAPING SOUNDS; IT’S PRETTY OBVIOUS THERE’S A GROUP HUG GOING ON]
TIM
It’s okay. It’s okay.
It’s going to be okay.
PAST MARTIN
Sure.
PAST ARCHIVIST
We can get through this.
Together.
PAST MARTIN
I like the sound of that.
Jon, I—I’m sorry your dad didn’t get to see the man you’ve become. I think he’d be proud of you.
TIM
Sounds like your grandfather would have been proud of you both.
PAST MARTIN
He’d have been proud of you, too. I-if he’d had the chance to—I think you would have liked him.
I know he would have liked you.
TIM
…Thanks, Martin.
[A COUPLE OF HEAVY SIGHS]
PAST MARTIN
So—so now what? We go…up to Hainault, find the storage unit, figure out what it is—what’s up there?
PAST ARCHIVIST
…
No.
No, not—not now. I-I need the weekend. I’ve…it’s been one thing after another for so long. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s not time-sensitive, not really, and…I’m tired.
Let’s just…not think about it for a couple of days. Let’s close down the Archives early and, I don’t know, go meet Charlie when he gets home from school and take him out for ice cream. Something like that. Let me have a couple of days to enjoy being home and with you again and—a-and we can worry about it on Monday.
We won’t talk about it. We won’t think about it. We’ll just…take a break. I think we all deserve it.
PAST MARTIN
…Okay. Okay, that—that sounds good.
Tim?
TIM
(deep sigh) Sure. Sounds great.
PAST ARCHIVIST
All right then. Let’s go.
[CLICK]