The Clock read five minutes till twelve.
"Are you sure they're here Tintin my lad?"
"Um…well they said they would be here Captain. Maybe they're stuck in traffic?"
The 'tuft of ginger,' as he was so often referred to, paced outside the old-fashioned teashop, his little white dog yapping and chasing him at his heels. The young man's best friend sat in the corner, his face blocked by the shadows, a glow of embers and thick smoke shinning from his pipe. The young man was muttering under his breath, his friend half smiling, half rolling his eyes at the lad.
Little did they know, but the quiet scene before them was going to quickly change.
"Tintin, would you sit down? You're making me nervous just watching you."
Tintin glared at him, but he sat in his abandoned chair anyway. He angrily crossed his legs and swiftly opened the unread newspaper in front of him and read the first line of the first article repeatedly, his thoughts racing.
After a while, the captain got up from his chair and went up to the counter to order more tea and crumpets for the two of them. With a huff and a few choice words for the uncooperative waiter though, he returned to his seat empty handed.
"Tintin? What do these guys look like again?"
Tintin raised his eyebrow over his newspaper. "I don't exactly know Captain. They never showed themselves, only asked me to meet them here on this day and hour, unarmed, and they'd tell me all I wanted to know."
The captain's eyes widened. "So you're telling me that they could be here right now—could have been here for hours—and we'd never know because you never thought to ask them what they looked like?"
"Well, yeah, Captain. I don't exactly go around asking random strangers—who offered to give us help, mind you—what they look like. I am just happy to finally be getting somewhere with this case. Besides, you were there too Captain, you could have asked. It's not like it's my responsibility to remember everything." He said defensively, a rare outburst brought on by frustration on the current situation.
"I was too busy covering your back for intruders to pay attention to your conversation, so pardon me. Blistering Barnacles!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, face red.
Tintin opened his mouth to retort, but Snowy gave a sharp bark that clearly said, 'Not Now!' Tintin blinked in surprise, finally realizing that he and the captain were arguing. Captain had the same look on his face and they both sighed, gave a shake of their heads, and went about business as if the conversation never happened, both too proud to apologize.
It was then they heard shouting coming from inside the teashop. Snowy gave a warning bark, Captain Haddock and Tintin standing hesitantly. The crashing of glasses sounded, a scream of a woman, and out of the swinging doors, a man in black tore out. Out in front him in his clenched hand, he held a .44.
It was a reflex to pull the trigger, he'd later testify, never was it his aim to harm anybody.
But he truthfully, undeniably did.
The bullet was headed toward the young reporter, his pale face shades whiter, his mouth open in a silent scream.
It was Haddock who reacted first. He threw the boy to the ground, his body a shield to his friend. He laid there, a hand thrown up in an arc over their heads.
It lasted only five seconds, but five seconds can mean the world to a person.
The gunman was gone, but there they still lay. Snowy pawed at his master and Tintin opened his clenched eyes. He expected to feel the burn of the shot any second, but he felt nothing but the pressure of his friend's body. 'But it will come,' he told himself, 'once the adrenalin has worn off.'
"Captain?" He said, pushing at the body on top of him. "Captain, you're squishing me."
The captain didn't move.
"Captain, please, people are going to talk," he said jokingly, noticing the way his friend was laying on top of him.
Still he didn't move.
Tintin started to become concerned then.
"Captain?"
Suddenly and savagely fear took over Tintin and he heaved Haddock off of himself and sat up.
His friend lay limply where he fell.
"CAPTAIN!"
Tintin rushed to his friend's side, Snowy whimpering pitifully beside him.
"Captain, oh God Captain…" Tintin placed shaky fingers on Haddock's neck.
Nothing.
"Captain…"
A hand on his shoulder shocks him slightly.
"Sir? Sir, paramedics are on their way." It was then Tintin realized the crowd around him.
"He's dead."
"What sir?"
"Call them off. He's dead. It won't matter."
Tintin felt oddly detached as the kind man gaped at him and he got up and walked away. Snowy looked from his master to his master's friend, wondering why Tintin was leaving. Then he followed.
Anger took over Tintin's being when he stopped, looking back at his best friend eagle-sprawled in the open streets, mouth open slightly and eyes cast up unseeingly. They would never again look into Tintin's own.
Tintin turned to the wall beside him, punched it with all his might, then rested his aching head, pounding his fist against it.
He felt that hand on his arm again, pulling him away.
"NO! Leave me be!"
"Sir, sir you need medical attention."
Tintin turned then and got in the man's face.
"How dare you! It was me that argued with him, accused him! Oh God…It's the last thing I said to him. He'll never know how much I love…loved him…And it's all my fault!" He turned and ran from the man, turned and ran from the body of his best friend.
It was then the chiming of the church bells signaling that it was one O'clock could be heard.
-
It took only five seconds, five seconds that meant the world to someone. Five seconds in which the world was changed for one person and ended for another.
Five seconds…
It's such a long time, huh?