Free The Gargoyle Overhead by Philippa Dowding Page B

too late and tired to do anything but eat and go straight to bed. He had no way to communicate with Cassandra, and he found her great height and clumsiness oddly upsetting. One night, he heard a great crash below him and hurried down the steep stairs to see what had happened. He was in such a hurry that he tumbled down the last few stairs and landed heavily on his back. He grunted and struggled to right himself, only to find Cassandra fussing over him, completely unhurt herself. She had dropped something and had come to no harm. Gargoth was the one who was hurt.
    So he remained steadfastly on the roof after that, no matter what noises came from down below. Cassandra had put a small tent on the roof for him to sleep in. She called it a “pup tent”, which made him feel uncomfortably like a dog, but he didn’t complain. It was dry and cozy enough with his cushion in there to sleep on.
    In the daytime, people would come and go in the store below, announcing themselves with a little tinkle of the doorbell as they entered. Cassandra would see to them, sell them a scented candle or a crystal ball or a book about something called “yoga”, then a little while later they would let themselves out the door, which would tinkle again. Gargoth got used to the comings and goings down below him and ignored most of what happened there.
    Near the end of their week together, however, Gargoth was lying on his cushion, not paying much attention to the shop below, when he heard the sound of angry voices. He sat up and listened carefully.
    A man’s voice was raised loudly. “I know that you have something of mine. You ought to give it back. You are stealing from me! It’s my property!”
    Cassandra’s voice shot back, “I have no idea what you are talking about. We don’t have any here, can’t you see? Now you should really leave, or I’ll phone the police!” Gargoth couldn’t see her, but he felt sure that Cassandra was standing at her full height, over six feet, and looking very fierce.
    For a moment Gargoth was filled with gratitude for Cassandra. He had no idea what was going on, but he was very happy that she was courageous and strong. He heard the bell over the door tinkle furiously, and a second later the door slammed hard. The man had left. He heard Cassandra walk across the store and lock the door.
    Gargoth descended a few steps and peered over the edge of the stairway to the shop below. Cassandra was standing beneath him, clutching the store counter with one hand, pushing her curly red hair back from her face with the other. She looked very flustered.
    “Cassandra?” Gargoth said.
    Cassandra looked up at the sound of his whispery voice. “Oh, Gargoth. Did you hear that?” She waved her hand toward the door.
    He nodded.
    “Oh.” She thought for a minute. “Gargoth, you can understand me, correct?”
    He nodded again, more slowly this time.
    “Okay. Can you nod or shake your head for me, yes or no?”
    Another nod.
    “Is someone looking for you?”
    A shrug.
    “Okay, then, let me be more exact. Is it possible that someone is looking for you?”
    Gargoth looked at his scaly feet for a moment and shrugged again. But he also slowly nodded.
    “Would it be an old man?”
    A faint nod.
    “Does he wear a white straw hat, a big baggy brown jacket and thick glasses?” Cassandra said this with a chill in her voice, but she was silenced by Gargoth’s response.
    The little gargoyle started making a terrible noise, which could not be mistaken as anything but a heart-broken howl. Cassandra ran up the stairs and stood over him, unsure what to do.
    Gargoth was shrieking and sobbing with terror, his entire body curled in fear. Cassandra sat on the stair beside him with a very worried look on her face. Gargoth turned and suddenly buried his little face in her shoulder, scalding her with hot gargoyle tears. She held him tightly while he wept.
    It didn’t matter whether they understood each other or not; anyone watching would have