Chapter ten? How long has it been since I updated. Sorry, everyone.
Mark spent an uncomfortable hour in the shop, sitting in the vacant chair. Douglas McDonald, the shopkeeper, had popped in and out, checking on him, fidgeting the whole time. Mark kept a firm grip on the box, leaving little indents. It seemed to be the only thing that mattered.
After a long sixty minutes of squirming and peering, a bell rang and Uncle Claude entered the shop himself.
"Well, my boy. Have you found your wand yet?"
Douglas peered his head from around a corner. "First try." He said quietly and demurely.
Uncle Claude put on a contrived look of disbelief. "What?" He smiled. "Why, Douglas McDonald! The man famous for having inherited all of his father's talent in wandmaking, but none of his talent for finding the right wand for the right wizard. Wasn't it just last week that you tried every single wand in the shop for that poor little girl. It's always in the last place you look!"
Mark simply stared down at the dusty box in his hands. It felt warm and natural there, as though it belonged. His whole life had just drastically changed and he had no idea where he belonged in it, so the comfort of the box was well appreciated.
Uncle Claude placed some money on the counter, and they walked out.
Once they had left the shop, Uncle Claude placed a large hand on Mark's shoulder's.
"I'm sorry I left you for so long in there, Mark. Douglas McDonald really is famous for taking forever and a day to sell a wand, and I don't fit so well in there " He clapped his free hand to his large belly and chortled.
Noticing that Mark still seemed quiet, Uncle Claude turned to face him, placing both his hands upon his shoulders, and inclined his head slightly so there were staring eye to eye.
"Look, Mark," he started slowly, "I'm sorry. You have reason to be mad at me. But I want you to know you can trust me from here on in. You have my word of honour. Listen, what do you want to do next? Anything in the world."
Mark wasn't sure what he wanted. He felt as though he had lived several lifetimes in today alone.
"I am a little hungry," he said finally, though he said it slowly. "Could we have some lunch?"
"Of course, my boy!" Uncle Claude was suddenly beside him and back to his jovial self, pushing Mark along the street. "Where do you want to eat? It's your choice!"
Mark was getting dizzy. The bizzare street was even worse at high speeds, and Uncle Claude was only getting faster. He desperately pointed to his right and hoped he had pointed to a place that served food.
Uncle Claude didn't even miss a beat. He merely steered Mark inside at the same breakneck pace.
"Good choice! For a second I thought you had pointed to the bookstore next door, and then I realized what nonsense that was!"