Monty's Master – Part 6
"So who's your guy?" Monty asked as they passed a lamp post.
"Is he one of those lousy bartenders who eavesdrop all day on the shady dudes who come by?"
Perry didn't answer but continued to walk beside him with his hands tucked in his pockets.
"Oh! Or maybe an occult artifact shop owner who knows a bunch of weird hibbie jibbies!"
Perry stopped next to a set of mirrors leaning against a wall.
"Or maybe... wait, where's your hat?" Monty asked just as the door opened with the crisp tinkle of a bell.
"Hi, Dad!"
A man in a polo shirt and glasses was leaning over a low table, polishing what appeared to be a very large Viking war horn.
"Oh, hello son," he said, jovially waving the hand in which he held the cloth. "And who's this fine fellow?"
"Uh..."
"Ah, right. Dad, this is Monty, he's a freshman in my major," Perry said with no hesitation, glancing at Monty out of the corner of his eye and giving him a small nod.
"Uh, yeah," Monty said, stepping forward and holding out his hand, "nice to meet you, Mr..."
"Fletcher, Lawrence Fletcher, welcome to the Flynn-Fletcher Antiques, what can I do you for?" he said, frivolously shaking his hand.
A slow tune made Monty glance up at a tall shelf where an old gramophone sat flanked by several snow globes. It may not have been filled with magical amulets or talking skulls, but the shop still had quite a few interesting things to offer, such as a fur-covered native spear or the jade monkey by the wardrobe.
Perry, too, took a quick look around the room, "Quiet day?" he asked.
"Well, yes, you can't expect too many customers now that summer's ended, but I was going to tidy up a bit anyway. We just received a collection of Gothic gargoyles this morning and I have to make some room," said Mr. Fletcher pointing to a hand puppet theater that took up most of the floor.
"Oh, I really wish I could help you with that," Perry said, shuffling a little, before turning to Monty, "but I'm afraid we don't have much time."
"Yes, Mom told me you were taking care of the first-graders today."
Monty gave him a surprised and somewhat indignant look, but Perry seemed to know what he was doing.
"Yeah, about that… So I was just reading them the Panchatantra, when I came across this weird legend. They seemed pretty invested and you know how hard is to get their attention. It's just that there was only one reference in the book, and I thought maybe you knew more about it. Have you ever heard of the Snake King?"
"Ah! Of course, Nagaraj, what a classic!" said Mr. Fletcher, and disappeared behind a door, returning in the twinkling of an eye with an old book, about the size of a tombstone, which he began to leaf over the counter.
"Ah yes, here it is, the Serpent King, and his most trusted servant, Shahab."
Monty and Perry inched closer and glanced over a page with colorful illustrations and many embellishments depicting two men, one holding a scepter and the other surrounded by snakes.
"The legend tells of a king who was believed to have a magical staff with which he could tame the snakes inhibiting the valley, until one night his most loyal servant, and also closest friend, decided to steal it from him."
"Pained beyond measure by his betrayal, the old king fell ill and passed away just before Shahab invaded the palace with his army of snakes."
"Fortunately though, the king's daughter had also inherited his magical powers, playing a song only she knew and thus gaining control over the snakes."
Mr. Fletcher turned the page to a picture of a young woman with wind-blown hair, playing a white flute.
"Shahab had been exiled and as punishment, the princess forced the snakes to guard her father's tomb, sealing them away forever."
"A fascinating story indeed, but I'm not quite sure if it's appropriate for such young minds," he said, closing the book with a big thud.
"Yeah, maybe you're right," Perry said. "I think I'll just read them The Lion and the Hare, it used to be Baljeet's favorite."
"Ah, yes, you do that," said Mr. Fletcher. "Then I'll see you tonight. I was tasked with the music, brilliant isn't it?"
"Um..." Perry hesitated, glancing at the gramophone which began to screech, holding for far too long a very low note.
"You know, I think I'll bring one of my old Love Händel CDs. Four-graders like Love Händel, don't they?"
"Sure," Perry said with a smile that Monty couldn't tell for sure whether it was real or fake. "Okay, see you at dinner! Come on Monty, we don't want to keep the kids waiting!"
And he slowly pushed him towards the door.
"Bye Mr. Fletcher, love what you've done with the place!" Monty managed to say before the door closed behind them with another jingle.
"Ah, what a lad," muttered Mr. Fletcher.
"Wow, your adoptive dad sure seems nice," Monty said once they were outside.
"Stepdad, actually," Perry said as he typed on his phone. "I haven't seen my adoptive father in about ten years."
"Oh. Then your first dad…"
"Bitten by a snake and died when I was three, I don't really remember him," Perry said, matter-of-factly.
"Uh-oh! Does this mean you have some sort of deep unresolved snake-related childhood trauma that caused you ophidiophobia? Because this just might be a problem!"
"Nah, I'm good."
"Oh, okay then, if you say so."
"Say, you don't turn eighteen till November, right? Because you might need a parental consent form for this... Oh, never mind, we'll just use fake IDs."
"Wait, are you buying plane tickets?" Monty asked, trying to peek over Perry's shoulder.
"Yeah, you might wanna pack some sunscreen because it's gonna be pretty hot where we're going."