Magnus Mills - Three to See the King

‘Oh well,’ I said. ‘Good job I’m a fast learner.’

Steve nodded his head solemnly.

‘Do you have any spare pieces of tin on the premises?’ asked Philip.

‘No, sorry, I don’t.’

He looked genuinely surprised. ‘What, none at all?’

‘No.’

‘But what if a stranger came by and asked for some?’ said Simon. ‘What would you do then?’

‘Don’t know,’ I replied.

‘Has it never happened?’

‘No, actually, it hasn’t!’

Mary Petrie must have realized that this line of talk was beginning to nettle me, because she suddenly rose from her seat and said, ‘I don’t suppose any of you have eaten?’

‘Not for some hours,’ said Steve.

‘Alright,’ she announced. ‘I’ll prepare something.’

‘You’re so kind,’ remarked Simon. ‘Thank you.’

The previous atmosphere of conviviality quickly returned to the table, and for the time being they stopped interrogating me about whether I had any spare pieces of tin. Then I remembered a question of my own.

‘By the way, Simon,’ I said. ‘How did you get along when it came to putting your house back together again?’

This caused all three of them to look at each other and smile. It seemed my enquiry had triggered off some happy collective memory.

‘Oh, quite a disaster really,’ Simon replied. ‘None of the parts would fit properly.’

‘My fault, of course,’ added Steve. ‘We couldn’t tell the roof from the walls, the back from the front, or anything. It was like a pig’s ear when we’d finished.’

He had now turned slightly pink and sat there with a bashful grin on his face, as if joyfully recalling some past foolishness. This was a complete change from the assertive confidence he’d shown a few moments earlier, and I was at a loss to explain why. Meanwhile, the other two appeared equally delighted that things had gone so wrong with Simon’s house.

They exchanged further smiles, then Philip said, ‘Fortunately for us, Michael Hawkins had the solution.’

A murmur of assent arose from his companions, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Mary Petrie glance at me.

‘Really?’ I managed to say.

‘Oh yes,’ declared Simon in an eager voice. ‘Michael built his own house of tin, you see, so he knew what had to be done. With his guidance we simply took mine to pieces and made it whole again.’

That was lucky,’ I said.

‘Oh, it was more than luck,’ said Steve. ‘There’s so much that Michael has learned, because he’s lived out there so long. He’s studied the lie of the land, and he knows which way the wind blows, and when the sun will rise and set. He showed us the best place to build our houses.’

‘So that’s where you’ve all moved to, is it?’

‘Us and many others.’

‘Just to be near this Michael Hawkins?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And we’d like you to join us.’

‘Me?’

‘Well, both of you really.’ Steve now included Mary Petrie in his gaze. ‘Michael has requested it especially.’ ‘Well, why didn’t he come and ask us himself?’ ‘Because he’s far too busy.’ ‘What with?’ ‘He’s creating a canyon for us all to live in.’

All at once I felt as if someone had pulled a hidden lever and caused a trapdoor to open beneath me. Only Mary Petrie knew of my abandoned desire to live in a canyon, and I trusted her with the secret. Yet here was this upstart, this Michael Hawkins, taunting me from beyond the horizon by means of his three messengers. What, I asked myself, was so special about him that they flocked to be at his side? After all, he only dwelt in a house of tin, same as I did. Just because he’d learnt a trick or two about predicting the weather, and knew how to assemble a few composite parts, they spoke of him in hushed tones as if he held some great gift for them. Now, I gathered, his boundless abilities even encompassed the creation of a canyon!

‘What, on his own?’ I asked.

‘Oh, no,’ replied Steve. ‘It’s going to need many hands to undertake such a work.’

‘That’s what I’d have thought.’

‘So you’ll come will you?’ he asked.

‘Well, I—’

‘Michael can achieve great things with friends like us to help him!’ declared Simon, before I could even speak. There’s a space already set aside for your house, if you’re interested, and many people are looking forward to meeting you.’

While all this talk was going on, Mary Petrie had remained silent. Even so, I knew from the occasional looks she cast in my direction that she was listening to every word. Now, as Simon, Steve and Philip sat and waited like supplicants for an answer, she spoke directly to me.

‘Won’t it be a bit of a palaver moving everything?’ she asked.

That was all she said, but I sensed instantly that the verdict had already been reached.

As I looked at her pictures on the walls, her china in the kitchen, and her carefully arranged vases of dried grass, I realized I would never get her to move an inch, let alone to some vague destination in an incomplete canyon.

She then offered refreshments to our guests, while I explained that we had to decline their invitation for reasons they would surely understand. Steve answered that he spoke for all in saying how disappointed he was that we wouldn’t be coming. Nonetheless, he said, it was our decision, and if we ever changed our minds we only had to head west and we would easily find the way.

They left some time later, each of them calling their goodbyes to Mary Petrie, who had by now retired upstairs for the evening.

I watched as they set off into the darkness, and pondered whether I should have offered beds for the night instead of just allowing them to leave. In truth, however, I knew it was quite unnecessary. All they wanted to do was hurry back into the presence of Michael Hawkins, even though they were returning empty-handed. They clearly believed he was central to their existence.

Well, they were welcome to him as far as I was concerned! I had no intention of living in thrall to someone else, even if he was building a canyon! And, indeed, the more I thought about that, the more absurd it sounded. Who did he think he was, exactly, setting himself such a task?

Clearly, it couldn’t be done.

‘He would need hundreds, maybe thousands, of people,’ I explained to Mary Petrie a few days later. ‘All properly directed, and sharing the same sense of purpose. How’s he going to do that? It’s impossible.’

‘Really?’ she said.

‘Oh yes,’ I replied. ‘There’s a limit to what any one man can achieve, and I’m afraid our friend Michael Hawkins has overreached himself.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘Certain.’

To my surprise, Mary Petrie rose to her feet and walked to the door.

‘Well,’ she announced. ‘I’ve decided I was wrong.’

‘Wrong?’ I asked. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I was wrong to discourage you,’ she answered. ‘You’ll have to go to this canyon after all.’

‘But I thought you didn’t want to move,’ I said. ‘That was why I sent Steve and the others away.’

‘No, I don’t want to move, I’m quite settled here. That doesn’t mean you can’t go and have a look, though.’

‘Oh, it’s alright. I’m not really interested.’

‘So how come you keep going on about it day and night?’

‘I didn’t know I did.’

‘Well you do!’ she snapped. ‘As a matter of fact, you’ve spoken of nothing else since those three left! You even talk about it in your sleep, and if you don’t know the reason I’ll tell you! It’s because you once had great aspirations! Remember? You were going to search the world for an immense red canyon, remote and empty, where you’d live in a house built entirely from tin. You told me this in all its detail. No other life would do, you said, yet somehow you wound up stuck on a flat and featureless plain! Now you’ve heard about a man creating the very place you were talking about, and as long as you know it’s there you’ll never be satisfied!’