The Talk (a.k.a. Part Three of My 2020 Trilogy of Halloween Tales)

 

Two short taps and one scrape of a nail against the door.

            "Come in, Mr Almond," Peter says.

            A man with a green tinge to his skin enters. He clutches his thick hands together. "Hope you don't mind, Peter? I realise I haven't caught you at the best of times."

            Peter doesn't reply, just sits up and makes room at the foot of his bed. 

            Mr Almond perches on the spot, briefly entranced by October's gloom as framed by the boy's window. With a curt breath, he returns to the moment.

            "You remember the last time we hung out, Peter?"

            "At the park?"

            "Yes. We were talking and then you saw a couple of girls on the swings." Mr Almond offers a toothy smile. "You got lost there for a moment, didn't you?"

            Peter shrugged. "Kinda."

            "You said her name was Mona, the strawberry blonde. You seemed quite taken with her. Definitely her...developments." Seeing Peter's frown, Mr Almond sighs. "Her breasts, Peter."

            'You were looking?'

            "Not intentionally. I just followed your eyeline."

            Peter's posture stiffens. "What's wrong with Mona?" 

            Mr Almond catches his eye. "It's alright, Peter. I get it. I went through the exact same experience that you are now. It was a long, long time ago but essentially the same. New excitement. Girls changing shape. Impure thoughts. To be honest I saw it coming when you started spending more time with Mark and Adam. Which is also fine. You boys are facing the exact same discoveries. You need each other's support."

            "But..."

            Mr Almond raises the hand with the long black nails on it. "A moment, Peter. This is a tricky subject, yes? I have to remember how it was said to me before I can figure out how to say it to you." He shakes his head. "There were lots of restrictions back then. Times have very much changed."

            Mr Almond clutches his bony knees and exhales.

            "Look, you know I'm going to eat you next year. Your parents and I told you how it works: when you're of age, I'll need your virgin blood to stay alive. All of it. And that's just it: virgin." Mr Almond takes another curt breath, well-practised. "Now I don't want to be the bad guy here but I know there are certain pressures coming from Mark and Adam. Big talk about who has slept with who, eh? Still none of you have exactly fornicated, now have you?”

            Peter opens his mouth. Mr Almond gestures it closed.

            "But therein lies the danger, Peter. While you chaps keep egging each other on, someone's bound to slip up and lose that precious virginity. And I really don't want it to be you. I really don't want all the years of hard work your parents have put in to making you a fine, upstanding sacrifice to be wasted. I don't want any of you to be wasted. Because then I'll just be devouring three sexually-experienced men and that would taste disgusting." Mr Almond sticks out a forked tongue and grimaces. "Do you hear what I'm saying?"

            Peter nods. "I'll try."

            "I know you'll try," Mr Almond says, reaching for Peter's shoulder but remembering the germs. "But boys will be boys and I really don't want to have to devour Mona too. She seems nice and not a part of this at all. Don't you agree?"

            Peter nods again. "Yes, Mr Almond."

            "You just focus on your education and having good clean fun with Mark and Adam and all will be well. When the big day comes you might briefly regret not having sex but..." Mr Almond shrugs. "Then you're gone."

            "Gone," Peter replies robotically.

            "Quick and clean, I promise. And don't forget I'm here to talk if you ever need me." He rises to his looming height. "I may not be one of your mates but I'm not like your parents either. You can talk to me. Understood?"

            "Yes." Peter is already turning away.

            Mr Almond claps his hands together. "Okay, Peter. I'll say hello to Mark and Adam for you."

            Having closed the door, the green-tinged man produces a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his grey wide sleeve and wipes the darkening wrinkles of his palm. Floating downstairs, he passes Peter's mother.

            "Peter understands," he says as she holds the front door open for him. "I will return if he gets confused again. You know how it is. Sometimes a lad needs a special confidant to get through these complications."

            "You're sure?" Peter's mother asks. 

            Mr Almond winks both crimson eyes. "It'll only be for a couple more months.” He then drifts down the garden path.

            "Where are you going now?" Peter's mother asks as he rests a hand on the latch of the gate. A blast of chill wind catches Mr Almond naked throat where the skin is most tender. He reaches up to cover it.

            "To Adam and then Mark." He lets out a gasping laugh. "In situations like this, it's important to visit all the lambs as fast as you can." Then, with a sudden whirl of grey and green, Mr Almond joins with the night.

            Back up in his room, Peter neither weeps nor warns his friends. Instead he masturbates.