I tiredly began to walk toward the stairs.
“Wait,” the old man said. “Your birthday was… yesterday?”
I nodded. I’d never met the man before, but Ms. Fletcher has several assistants. I didn’t know them all.
“Rumbling Rowns!” then man exclaimed. “I’m late!”
“No,” I said, climbing the stairs. “Actually, you’re early. As I said, you’ll need to wait.”
The old man rushed up the stairs behind me.
I turned, frowning. “You can wait downstairs.”
“Quickly, boy!” the old man said. “I can’t wait. Soon you’ll be getting a package in the mail, and –“
“Stop. You know about the package?”
“Of course I do, of course I do. Don’t tell me it already came?”
I nodded.
“Blistering Brooks!” the old man exclaimed. “Where lad? Where is it?”
I frowned. “Did Ms. Fletcher send it?”
“Ms. Fletcher? Never heard of her. Your parents sent that box, my boy!”
He’s never heard of her? I thought, realizing that I’d never verified the man’s identity. Great. I’ve let a lunatic into the house.
“Oh, blast!” the old man said, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a pair of yellow-tinted glasses. He quickly exchanged the light red ones for these, then looked around. “There!” he said, rushing up the stairs, pushing past me.
“Hey!” I called, but he didn’t stop. I muttered quietly to myself, following. The old man was surprisingly spry for his age, and he reached the door to my room in just a few heartbeats.
“Is this your room, my boy?” the old man asked. “Lots of footprints leading here. What happened to the doorknob?”
“It fell off. My first night in the house.”
“How odd,” the old man said, pushing the door open. “Now, where’s that box…?”
“Look,” I said, pausing in the doorway. “You have to leave. If you don’t, I’m going to call the police.”
“The police? Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re in my house,” I said. “Well… my ex-house, at least.”
“But you let me in, lad,” the old man pointed out.
I paused. “Well, now I’m telling you to leave.”
“But why? Don’t you recognize me, my boy?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m your grandfather, lad! Grandpa Smedry! Leavenworth Smedry, Oculator Dramatus. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me – I was there when you were born!”
I blinked. Then frowned. Then cocked my head to the side. “You were there…?”
“Yes, yes,” the old man said. “Thirteen years ago! You haven’t seen me since, of course.”