The Mascot

"Morning, Mr. Humphries," Paul shouted as Mr. Humphries headed out. Paul knew a secret about Mr. Humphries but he would never tell anyone. Not because Mr. Humphries had told him not to, because Mr. Humphries didn't know he knew, but because he, Paul, wanted to keep it to himself. He was young, but he sensed that Mr. Humphries would not want others to know. He felt like it would bring trouble to Mr. Humphries so he kept quiet.

His mum didn't like him, Mr. Humphries. She thought there was something weird about him because he was quiet and kept himself to himself but always nodded and smiled at the children in the street. She called him something, "a peedo" but Paul didn't know what that meant. She just always got angry with him, Paul, when he said "Hello" to him. All of the kids liked Mr. Humphries. He never offered them sweets or anything sus.

He was just a bloke that lived on Paul's street.

None of his friends had a bad word to say about him. No-one was scared of him.

Except adults.

Mr. Humphries nodded at him and went into his house. Mr. Humphries had never spoken to him but he always nodded and smiled. He used to live with his mum and "doted" on her, so Paul's mum said. Paul didn't know what that meant but thought it meant that he looked after her, which he did. Mrs. Humphries was nice but she was dead now so Mr. Humphries lived on his own.

He heard his mum talking, saying "How could he afford it when he didn't have a job?" but he did have a job. Paul knew.

Every Saturday, Mr. Humphries would jump in his car and head out. Paul knew where some weeks because his team was at home.

He'd seen the costume when he'd gone to get his football from Mr. Humphries' garden. It was on a chair in the back room. He'd been frightened at first because he thought Mr. Humphries had stolen it.

But he knew. When his dad took him over for a fist bump and the mascot ruffled his hair, he knew.

Mr. Humphries was inside.

***

366 words

Inspired by a football match I went to, I started to speculate on the people who bring the mascots alive. There's a sort of Boo Radley feel to this too, about the assumptions we make about the people who don't conform to the lifestyle that we expect of them. Just because they don't fit the mould, does that make them odd?

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

81/366