The Witches, the Watchers and Henry
Henry didn’t look back to see if Mr. Currey was watching to be sure he left, or if Mrs. Currey or that crazy prayer team were watching him from the kitchen; he knew they were still there. He could hear the chanting, even though it was muted by closed doors, “Away, sodomite! Abomination! Get thee, hence, Satan.” He knew Jamey wasn’t watching or chanting; they were hiding him, trying to him back into a “normal” person.
Henry growled and snarled as the points of his ears stretched.
When he got to the wall, he made himself look back but saw no faces in the window. He scrambled up and over the wall, using a grey chimenea as a leg up. He heard the freestanding ceramic outdoor fireplace fall and break behind him. He didn’t care. He dropped into a scraggly fl
