‘We must make it right?’ Horris’s lip twitched.

‘The Shadow Man’s guarding the Deli door,’ Slugga replied, his voice quivering. ‘His spooky eyes may not see us, but he has ears like a Bat. A nose like a hound dog. He’ll hear my squeaky shoes a mile off.’

‘And smell your horrible breath. We’ll cut across the park.’

‘But the prickles.’

Prickles, sharper than toothpicks, plagued the dry park. Horris studied Slugga’s size seven shoes. He had more rubber on his bands than what lingered on the soles of those shoes.

‘Will go round.’

They tiptoed along the dirt road. Slugga jumped higher than a diver on a three-metre springboard and danced around like a flamingo on one leg whenever he stepped on a stray prickle. Horris’s eyes darted toward the Shadow Man. His head was tilted to the side, and his ears were pricked.

‘Pipe down, would ya?

Horris froze.

‘Watch out, Shadow Man,’ A boy across the road yelled towards the Deli, ‘Those rotten kids are coming to blindside you again.’

Horris’s eyes rose past his fringe. His fists clenched. Blood boiling. ‘Pongo.’

‘That little -‘ Slugga stamped his foot in disgust.

Squeak! The Shadow Man spun his head from the voice to the noise. Tap! Scrape! The hunched, dark figure moved towards them.

Fear and adrenaline ran through Horris as he and Slugga sprinted for the door. Whoosh! The Shadow Man swung his stick so hard his body spun in circles.

They ducked under the stick, opened the door, and dashed inside the Deli.

‘Now, where did that rotten snitch take it from?’ Slugga said, searching the store.

Ding! Ding! The doorbell rang. The door closed shut. Squeaky footsteps dashed from Horris and disappeared along an aisle. Horris froze. The Shadow Man slid past him. His walking stick almost poked his foot as the store owner as he pursued the squeaking shoes. He stopped and sniffed the air. Horris fled, heading straight for the counter.

Tap! Scrape! The Shadow Man resumed his original pursuit. Slugga’s head bobbed above the shelves as he raced down the aisles, the Shadow Man on his heels.

‘Horris, above you. On the counter!’

Horris stood up. He was about to reach into his pocket when – WHACK! A thick black cane whooshed past his left shoulder and slammed onto the counter. The Shadow Man stood over Horris, his creepy, murky olive eyes glaring down at him. Horris pulled the matchbox car from his pocket. One that his brother, Pongo, had stolen the day before. His hand shook as he placed it with the others.

The Shadow Man listened intently. He felt around the bench and found the collection of matchbox cars. One by one, he counted them.

Horris watched him, his heart in his mouth. A tear splashed onto the counter. The weathered face of the Shadow Man turned and smiled in Horris’s direction. Gifting him a nod of appreciation. Tears glistened from his eyes.