Finding The Boy

Evening fell, as the butcher drove with Cin in his car. She had her face stuck to her window by the time they reached the old man's place. He had somehow managed a villa's manager to give him the keys to the place and not bother him for the duration of his stay. The butcher didn't ask questions because he had seen the old man do some weird things. He was in handcuffs in a police cell when the old man had magicked him to the bar somewhere and given him beer and a cigar. He was devoted to the old man's will. No questions asked. 

The butcher stopped the car at  the entrance, got out and pulled Cin out of the car too. He half dragged, half carried her out of the car to the patio where the old man was sitting. Cin was pushed into a chair.

"She was drinking," the butcher said.

The old man kept looking at the sun setting through the clouds. He picked a glass of water from the table in front of him and offered it to Cin.

"Have some water, my dear."

Groggy and half drunk, Cin took the glass of water and drank it. She knew she was in a jam but she didn't know how deep the jam went.

"I have no idea what you guys want from me." she said after a while. "I just want to go back to my hotel and sleep."

The old man smiled at her. "Sure, you can leave, but first I've to tell you something about your dreams."

The last fumes of hangover left Cin's head when she heard that. "What about the dreams?"

"The dreams of a tower, and perhaps a boy who plays really bad music."

Cin stared at the old man. "It's not that bad. Just heavy, with a lot of bass."

"Ah, my dear, this is where you're mistaken. The music that the boy plays comes from the mouth of machines and it has no soul. The real music, is of wood and string and soul and poetry."

He patted his guitar to emphasize his point. 

"I need to find the boy. I need his music. I have certain projects that can only succeed with that kind of music."

"It will only lead to pain and suffering."

"I don't mind as long as I don't have to suffer."

The old man looked at her, turned his head a bit, and smiled.

"I like that. I like that a lot. So here's what I'm gonna do. I'll give you some free advice."

"I'm listening."

"This guy here," he pointed at the butcher, "killed his wife, his neighbors and most of his colleagues some days back."

"Shit happens."

"Right, so this fellow is going to find the boy before you. And when he finds the boy, he is going to snap his head off his neck and eat his brains."

It was Cin's turn to look at  the old man whose hands were shaking and his hair was slowly coming apart in disarray.

"Race you to him," Cin said and got up to leave the villa. 

No one stopped her.