Hogfather

‘No. Have you any idea how hard it is to be normal? The things you have to remember? How to go to sleep? How to forget things? What doorknobs are for?’

Why ask him, she thought, as she looked at his shocked face. All that’s normal for him is remembering to throw up what someone else drank.

‘Oh, come on,’ she said, and hurried towards the stairs.

It was so easy to slip into immortality, to ride the horse, to know everything. And every time you did, it brought closer the day when you could never get off and never forget.

Death was hereditary.

You got it from your ancestors.

‘Where are we going now?’ said the oh god.

‘Down to the YMPA,’ said Susan.

The old man in the hovel looked uncertainly at the feast spread in front of him.^{67} He sat on his stool as curled up on himself as a spider in a flame.

‘I’d got a bit of a mess of beans cooking,’ he mumbled, looking at his visitors through filmy eyes.

‘Good heavens, you can’t eat beans at Hogswatch,’ said the king, smiling hugely. ‘That’s terribly unlucky, eating beans at Hogswatch. My word, yes!’

‘Di’nt know that,’ the old man said, looking down desperately at his lap.

‘We’ve brought you this magnificent spread. Don’t you think so?’

‘I bet you’re incredibly grateful for it, too,’ said the page, sharply.

‘Yes, well, o’ course, it’s very kind of you gennelmen,’ said the old man, in a voice the size of a mouse. He blinked, uncertain of what to do next.

‘The turkey’s hardly been touched, still plenty of meat on it,’ said the king. ‘And do have some of this cracking good widgeon stuffed with swan’s liver.’

‘—only I’m partial to a bowl of beans and I’ve never been beholden to no one nor nobody,’ the old man said, still staring at his lap.

‘Good heavens, man, you don’t need to worry about that,’ said the king heartily. ‘It’s Hogswatch! I was only just now looking out of the window and I saw you plodding through the snow and I said to young Jermain here, I said, “Who’s that chappie?” and he said, “Oh, he’s some peasant fellow who lives up by the forest,” and I said, “Well, I couldn’t eat another thing and it’s Hogswatch, after all,” and so we just bundled everything up and here we are!’

‘And I expect you’re pathetically thankful,’ said the page. ‘I expect we’ve brought a ray of light into your dark tunnel of a life, hmm?’

‘—yes, well, o’ course, only I’d been savin’ ’em for weeks, see, and there’s some bakin’ potatoes under the fire, I found ’em in the cellar ’n’ the mice’d hardly touched ’em.’ The old man never raised his eyes from knee level. ‘’n’ our dad brought me up never to ask for—’

‘Listen,’ said the king, raising his voice a little, ‘I’ve walked miles tonight and I bet you’ve never seen food like this in your whole life, eh?’

Tears of humiliated embarrassment were rolling down the old man’s face.

‘—well, I’m sure it’s very kind of you fine gennelmen but I ain’t sure I knows how to eat swans and suchlike, but if you want a bit o’ my beans you’ve only got to say—’

‘Let me make myself absolutely clear,’ said the king sharply. ‘This is some genuine Hogswatch charity, d’you understand? And we’re going to sit here and watch the smile on your grubby but honest face, is that understood?’

‘And what do you say to the good king?’ the page prompted.

The peasant hung his head.

‘’nk you.’

‘Right,’ said the king, sitting back. ‘Now, pick up your fork—’

The door burst open. An indistinct figure strode into the room, snow swirling around it in a cloud.

WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?

The page started to stand up, drawing his sword. He never worked out how the other figure could have got behind him, but there it was, pressing him gently down again.

‘Hello, son, my name is Albert,’ said a voice by his ear. ‘Why don’t you put that sword back very slowly? People might get hurt.’

A finger prodded the king, who had been too shocked to move.

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, SIRE?

The king tried to focus on the figure. There was an impression of red and white, but black, too.

To Albert’s secret amazement, the man managed to get to his feet and draw himself up as regally as he could.

‘What is going on here, whoever you are, is some fine old Hogswatch charity! And who—’

NO, IT’S NOT.

‘What? How dare you—’

WERE YOU HERE LAST MONTH? WILL YOU BE HERE NEXT WEEK? NO. BUT TONIGHT YOU WANTED TO FEEL ALL WARM INSIDE. TONIGHT YOU WILL WANT THEM TO SAY: WHAT A GOOD KING HE IS.

‘Oh, no, he’s going too far again—’ muttered Albert under his breath. He pushed the page down again. ‘No, you stay still, sonny. Else you’ll just be a paragraph.’

‘Whatever it is, it’s more than he’s got!’ snapped the king. ‘And all we’ve had from him is ingratitude—’

YES, THAT DOES SPOIL IT, DOESN’T IT? Death leaned forward, GO AWAY.

To the king’s own surprise his body took over and marched him out of the door.

Albert patted the page on the shoulder. ‘And you can run along too,’ he said.