The little boy was staring up at me and it was really starting to get unnerving. So, I tried to ignore him and focus on stacking terracotta pots. I had finished that and moved on to the stack of lobster traps and old wooden buoys when I heard the determined voice behind me from above 3-feet above the floor.
“Where’s your boss?”
Turning, I looked down at him. He was a scrawny thing with fierce eyes that seemed to dominate his small face. Clutching something tight to his chest, he glared up at me.
“She’s not in. Can I help you?”
He looked me over, frown deepening.
“No. No, you can’t.” He leaned in, speaking in that over-loud whisper that children have. “I know what this place is, you know, and I want your boss. She’s the only one that can help me.”
Well, that set me back on my heels. I gave him another look over and nodded.
“Tell me what you need. I’m her apprentice.”
He held out something brightly red with what looked like a dog bone hanging from it. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at. It was an absolutely tiny dog collar.
“I want Buddy back. I know she took him and I want him back.”

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