He looked harmless enough. He was no more than six inches taller than Harvey, his frame scrawny, his skin distinctly yellowish in color. He was wearing a fancy suit, a pair of spectacles and a lavish smile.
“Who are you?” Harvey demanded, wondering how he could get past this interloper to the door.
“Don’t be nervous,” the man replied, teasing off one of his suede gloves, taking Harvey’s hand and shaking it. “My name’s Rictus. You are Harvey Swick, aren’t you?”
” Yes…”
“I thought for a moment I’d got the wrong house”
Harvey couldn’t take his eyes off Rictus’s grin. It was wide enough to shame a shark, with two perfect rows of gleaming teeth.
Rictus took off his spectacles, pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his waterlogged jacket, then started to mop off the raindrops. Either he or the handkerchief gave off an odor that was far from fragrant. The smell, in truth, was flatulent.
“You’ve got questions, I can see that,” Rictus said to Harvey.
“Yeah.”
“Ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Well, how did you get in, for one thing?”
“Through the window, of course.”
“It’s a long way up from the street”
“Not if you’re flying.”
“Flying?”
“Of course. How else was I going to get around on a foul night like this? It was either that or a rowboat. We short folk gotta watch out when it’s raining this hard. One wrong step and you’re swimming.” He peered at Harvey quizzically. “Do you swim?”
“In the summer, sometimes,” Harvey replied, wanting to get back to the business of flying.
But Rictus took the conversation in another direction entirely. “On nights like this,” he said, “doesn’t it seem like there’ll never be another summer?”
“It sure does” said Harvey.
“You know I heard you sighing a mile off, and I said to myself `There’s a kid who needs a vacation.'” He consulted his watch. “If you’ve got the time, that is.”
“The time?”
“For a trip, boy, for a trip! You need an adventure, young Swick. Somewhere…out of this world.”
“How’d you hear me sighing when you were a mile away?” Harvey wanted to know.
“Why should you care? I heard you. That’s all that matters.”
“Is it magic of some kind?”
“Maybe.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
Rictus gave Harvey a beady stare. “I think you’re too inquisitive for your own good, that’s why,” he said, his smile decaying a little. “If you don’t want help, that’s fine by me.”
He made a move toward the window. The wind was still gusting against the glass, as though eager to come back in and carry its passenger away.
“Wait,” Harvey said.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry. I won’t ask any more questions.”
Rictus halted, his hand on the latch. “No more questions, eh?”
“I promise,” said Harvey. “I told you: I’m sorry.”
“So you did. So you did.” Rictus peered out at the rain. “I know a place where the days are always sunny,” he said, “and the nights are full of wonders.”
“Could you take me there?”
“We said no questions, boy. We agreed.”
“Oh. Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Being a forgiving sort, I’ll forget you spoke, and I’ll tell you this: If you want me to inquire on your behalf, I’ll see if they’ve got room for another guest.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’m not guaranteeing anything,” Rictus said, opening the latch.
“I understand.”
The wind gusted suddenly, and blew the window wide. The light began to swing wildly.
“Watch for me,” Rictus yelled above the din of rain and wind.
Harvey started to ask him if he’d be coming back soon, but stopped himself in the nick of time.
“No questions, boy!” Rictus said, and as he spoke the wind seemed to fill up his coat. It rose around him like a black balloon, and he was suddenly swept out over the windowsill.
“Questions Trot the mind!” he hollered as he went. “Keep your mouth shut and we’ll see what comes your way!”
And with that the wind carried him off, the balloon of his coat rising like a black moon against the rainy sky.
II
The Hidden Way
Harvey said nothing about his peculiar visitor to either his mom or his dad, in case they put locks on the windows to stop Rictus returning to the house. But the trouble with keeping the visit a secret was that after a few days Harvey began to wonder if he’d imagined the whole thing. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep at the window, he thought, and Rictus had simply been a dream.