The Oxford Set
“I don’t recognise you,” the woman at the ticket booth said, glaring at the young couple.
“Yeah, ‘course you do,” Dylan Jones, said, grinning like mad whilst jigging up and down. “We live on the crescent over there.”
Dylan gestured towards the curved row of ornate Georgian townhouses on the other side of the green, burning a deep golden brown underneath the setting sun.
The ticket seller grimaced at Dylan. “I’m sorry, we don’t favour residents here. You’ll need to pay like everyone else.”
Dylan lowered his head and hunched over. “Oh,” he said.
Scarlett, his glamorous wife, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just buy the tickets, Dyl. It’s not as if we’re struggling.”
Dylan stared at his feet and emitted a long, low sigh. “Fine,” he said.
He fumbled in his pocket and whipped a ten-pound note out of his wallet.
“There, not so hard now, was it,” the ticket seller said, exchanging the note for two tickets to the fair.
”In you go,” the ticket seller said, gesturing towards the fair’s entrance. “Enjoy.”
Dylan frowned at the woman. “Thanks,” he said, before lumbering over to the entrance.
The ticket seller whipped out her phone and began prodding at the screen. “Don’t visit Dr Astralis if you don’t want to know your future. He predicted my relationship would end badly, so I’m ending it now to be on the safe side.”
Scarlett grimaced at the woman as she typed away on her phone.
She locked eyes with her husband. “She’s not even gonna try to fix it?”
Dylan gaped at her and shrugged, before making his way into the way.
Scarlett watched the woman one final time before entering herself.
First, the Joneses took a reconnaissance stroll around the whole fair before deciding to visit a particular attraction.
Eventually, Dylan stopped like a car breaking harshly, and gazed into a tent next to him.
An elegantly painted sign above the entrance read “shop of the macabre.”
”Psst, Scarl,” Dylan said, calling his wife, who was marching ahead. “Let’s go in here.”
Scarlett turned round just in time to see Dylan disappear into the tent.
She trotted over to the tent and examined it.
Scarlett swallowed, a lump visibly travelling down her neck before disappearing.
“Are you sure we should go in here, Dyl,” Scarlett said, pulling her head back and pushing her shoulders forward. “It looks kinda creepy.”
Dylan poked his head around the side of the tent opening with a huge grin. In his hand, he held a severed monkey paw.
”Yeah, it’s fine,” Dylan said, waving the paw aloft. “Absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Scarlett grimaced at the paw. “I don’t know,” she said, pointing at the artefact. “Isn’t there some sort of story warning about those things?”
“Now that you mention it, I think so,” Dylan said, gazing at the simian limb. “But it’s just fiction, though, innit?”
Scarlett glanced around her surroundings. “I still think going in there is a bad idea.”
Dylan beamed and beckoned his wife to come inside. “Come on, it’s great. You’re going to love it.”
He disappeared behind one of the tent’s walls.
Scarlett hesitantly took a few steps forward and paused.
She sighed, clenched her fists, and marched into the strange shop.
Scarlett’s arms remained wrapped around her waist as she examined the items around the shop.
”We’re sure as hell not buying any of this stuff, ok?” Scarlett said. “I don’t want any of it lying around the house.”
”Relax, none of it interests me,” Dylan said, scrutinising a Viking helmet. “Most of it appears to be fakes.”
Scarlett inspected the vast array of strange items available for extortionate prices.
She found an empty bottle she recognised as once containing some mid-range wine she wouldn’t let others see her within a mile of.
Scarlett clutched the bottle anyway and turned towards the older woman operating the booth.
”Fifty pounds for an uninteresting bottle is a bit steep, don’t you think?” Scarlett said, glaring at the woman.
”That’s not any old bottle, love,” Maggie Lee, the shop owner, said, leaning over the table. “Nelson drank from that during Trafalgar.”
Scarlett grimaced at Maggie. “Yeah, sure he did,” she said, putting the bottle down.
Dylan picked up a small rattle and shook it. “There’s certainly some cool stuff in here, I gotta say.”
Maggie’s eyes bulged as she ran closer to Dylan, reaching a hand out.
”Be careful with that,” she said, taking a few steps back and composing herself. “A malevolent spirit haunts it.”
Scarlett scoffs. “A likely story.”
”Ah,” Dylan said, dropping the rattle on the floor and shaking his hand.
Scarlett took a few steps forward, reaching a hand out, a frown on her face.
”You ok, babe,” she said.
”Yeah. It’s just the rattle burned red hot,” Dylan said, showing the burn to Scarlett. “It burned my hand, see?”
Scarlett stared at the burns on her husband’s hands, then at Maggie.
”If you thought that was strange, you should’ve seen the Genie’s lamp I had,” Maggie said, sighing. “But sadly someone’s nicked it.”
Scarlett tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “A Genie’s lamp?”
Maggie slowly nodded her head.
Dylan placed the haunted rattle back on the shelf and turned his attention to the strange woman. “When did you last see the lamp?” he asked.
”I can’t remember,” Maggie said. “A strange fella came in here, and ran off with it.”
”Perhaps we could help you find the lamp,” Scarlett said, eyeing Dylan.
”Yeah. Finding lost treasure is kinda my thing,” Dylan said. “If I can’t find it, no one can.”
The octogenarian smiled at her young customers. “I’d be very grateful if you could find it, or at least get the bugger who stole it to pay me what he owes me.”
Dylan nodded his head. “No problem, it’s all in a day’s work.”
A young woman in her early twenties rushed into the tent.
Maggie scowled at her. “Why are you so late?”
“I’m sorry, I got stuck in traffic,” the woman said, worming her way behind the table beside her superior. “It won’t happen again.”
Dylan and Scarlett laughed as Maggie’s young assistant tried to defend herself before bidding the owner goodbye and rushing out of the tent to find the lamp.
Scarlett and Dylan zoomed through the fairground like dogs following a scent.
Dylan found places he wanted to visit with Scarlett, but she wouldn’t stop.
Eventually, he ground to a halt and managed to break his wife’s motion by tugging on her sleeves.
”What?” She said, scowling at him.
“Look,” he said, gesturing towards a red tent next to him, with the sign “the Mystic Dr Astralis” on it.
Scarlett shook her head. “Uh uh, I don’t want my future predicted, if he’s even credible.”
”I think he might be relevant, babe,” Dylan said, turning towards the tent. “He might help us find the lamp.”
”You mean he stole it?” Scarlett said.
”Not exactly,” Dylan said. “I just think we need to go in here, that’s all.”
Before Scarlett could dissuade him, Dylan wandered into the murky depths of the tent.
Scarlett grunted before marching in after him. “I can’t take you anywhere!”
”Alright, mate,” Dylan said, rubbing his hands in front of a shining crystal ball. “What’s going on here, then?”
A tall, slender man in his early sixties raised his head, a goatee on his chin.
”Good afternoon,” Dr Astralis said. “Do you wish to know what lies in store?”
”Absolutely not,” Scarlett said, marching towards Dr Astralis and giving him an icy stare.
”Yeah, sure, why not?” Dylan said, grinning at Dr Astralis.
Dr Astralis snickered. “Very well, £5 for a thirty-minute session.”
Scarlett sighed and rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable.”
Dylan rummaged through his wallet, searching for some money, but all he could find was a crumpled movie ticket.
He laughed. “Sorry mate, do you take cards?”
”Why, of course,” Dr Astralis said, whipping out a card reader. “Tap on here.”
As Dylan made his purchase, Scarlett scanned the confines of the tent.
She espied an object in the back of the pavilion.
It was an oil lamp, possibly one of Middle Eastern origin, and most certainly the potential home of a genie.
She gazed at the lamp with a sudden focus, a smile building on her face.
So, the mystic Dr Astralis had done the deed, the question was how to get it off him.
Dr Astralis waved his calloused hands over the crystal ball, his eyes rolled inside his head.
His lips and chin began to tremble. He stared vacantly, right through Dylan.
He swallowed some saliva. ”There is a woman, trapped in an impossibly small space,” the medium said, blinking rapidly.
Dylan’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “We have to save her.”
Dr Astralis gazed up at the ceiling. “Yes, yes, I suppose you do, if you can find her.”
Scarlett tiptoed over to the lamp and picked it up.
”Where will I find the woman who needs saving?” Dylan said, staring at the crystal ball.
Dr Astralis gulped. “I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information.”
“Where did you find this?” Scarlett said, clutching the lamp.
Dr Astralis spun round in his seat and shot up. “Put that down, only I can touch it.”
Scarlett pivoted on the spot, examining the object. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
Dylan observed the lamp. His mouth opened slightly.
Dr Astralis crept closer to Scarlett. “It was a gift from a client in Arabia.”
He reached out to grab the lamp, but Scarlett turned away.
”Oh, really, ‘cause we were visiting a lady working in a creepy shop and she said someone stole a lamp from her,” Scarlett said, beholding the lamp.
Dr Astralis ran in front of Scarlett and grabbed the lamp. “She must have been mistaken; this was a gift.”
Scarlett snatched the lamp from Dr Astralis, wagging a finger. “Nuh uh uh. Not too fast.”
”The lamp is mine, ma’am,” Dr Astralis said. “Only I can consult the genie.”
A sneer appeared on Scarlett’s face. “So there’s a genie in here?”
Dr Astralis tightened his posture and cleared his throat. “Yes. But it can only exit the lamp if I predict a genie granting you three wishes in your future, which costs you £5.”
Dylan rotated on the spot, holding his chin. “You said a woman was trapped in an impossibly small space, that we needed to rescue.”
”I did,” Dr Astralis said, before cackling manically. “But that woman could be anywhere. It certainly isn’t the genie. Genies aren’t female, are they?”
Scarlett spotted a small bottle of varnish and a rag on top of a small cabinet.
She sidled towards them, keeping eye contact with Dr Astralis.
“We don’t know what for sure, do we?” Scarlett said, reaching a hand out towards the items. “The idea that all genies are men could be unconscious bias.”
“Perhaps,” Dr Astralis said, locking eyes with Scarlett. “But I have personally conversed with the genie in there, and I can assure you that they’re male.”
Scarlett placed a dollop of varnish onto the rag.
”Oh?” She said, rubbing the rag on the lamp. “Let’s see, shall we?”
Dr Astralis’ eyes bulged, he reached out towards the lamp, lumbering towards her.
”No, no,” he said, trying to grasp the lamp. “Don’t you dare.”
Scarlett sneered as she rubbed the lamp.
A gust of wind erupted from the lamp, followed by a bright, blue light.
Dr Astralis could feel the lamp sucking him towards it.
He grabbed one of the poles holding the tent up, flailing in the wind, like a flag.
Dylan glanced around the tent, trying to ascertain what was happening.
”What’s going on?” Dylan said, ducking in the wind.
Scarlett crackled. “I don’t know,” she said, a toothy grin on her face.
The wind picked up, and the blue light grew in size.
Dr Astralis’ eyes inflated as he struggled to hold onto the pole.
One by one, his fingers left the pole.
”Quick,” he said. “Wish for this all to stop.”
”What if I don’t want to?” Scarlett said, gazing at the blue light slowly resembling a person. “What if I were for this to keep going. Perhaps even to speed up.”
“No, no,” Dr Astralis said as the wind became almost a hurricane.
”How come the lamp isn’t trying to suck us in?” Dylan said to Scarlett, blinking repeatedly.
”I don’t know,” Scarlett said, scanning the room around her. “Perhaps it’s so we’re not affected by what’s about to happen next.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “What is about to happen next?”
Dr Astralis was wincing with pain as he clung onto the pole for dear life with just one finger.
But it was no use, his finger gave way, and Dr Astralis screamed as the lamp sucked him inside it.
The lamp also vacuumed up the wind, leaving Scarlett, Dylan, and the Genie in an eerie calm.
The Genie, who now resembled a middle-aged Arabian woman in traditional clothing from the region, brushed herself off.
She hyperventilated, catching her breath.
The Genie glanced upwards, smiling at her rescuers.
“I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me,” she said, plonking herself onto the medium’s seat.
Dylan gaped at the genie, then at the lamp. “You swapped places? How?”
The Genie grinned at the treasure hunter. “I heard everything from the lamp. You knew you needed to rescue me, i.e, you mentally wished to free me.”
Dylan brushed the back of his head, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Scarlett paced around the room. “But someone had to be in the lamp, so you swapped places with your captor.”
The Genie smirked. “Correct, you got it in one.”
Dylan sauntered out of the tent, needing some fresh air.
Scarlett eased herself onto the seat opposite the genie.
”So, what’s next for you?” Scarlett said. I would offer you some wine if I had any, but sadly, I don’t.”
The Genie smiled. “It’s fine.”
She gazed at the shining evening sun outside. “As for what’s next, I suppose I’ll find my way back home to Arabia.”
Scarlett giggled. “You’ve got a long way to go,” she said. “It’s pretty much 4,000 miles from here.”
The Genie got up and wandered over to the tent entrance. “I’m sure I’ll find my way back somehow.”
Dylan examined the tent’s exterior. He read the sign and stood thinking.
”What are we going to do about this place?” he said, scratching his head.
The Genie pushed her way past Dylan and wandered further into the crowd. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
She waved goodbye to her rescuers.
Dylan gave a quick wave with his hand, whilst Scarlett gave a slower wave with her whole arm.
Scarlett felt a lump in her throat as the genie vanished into the crowd. Seeing someone she had set free start their long journey home made her feel emotional.
”Let’s leave it to the fairground owners, shall we?” Scarlett said, shuffling over to the lamp to collect it.
“For the moment,” she said, gazing at the lamp, “I think we’ve got a debt to repay.”
“Is this really Excalibur?” Dylan said, inspecting a sword hanging on a wall in the Shop of the Macabre.
”Yeah, of course,” Maggie Lee said, crossing her arms as she eyed the sword. “Salvaged from the Atlantic at Tintagel.”
Dylan examined the sword and nodded. “Cool,” he said.
Scarlett crossed her arms and glared at him. “We’re still not buying it, ok?”
”Fine, fine,” Dylan said, wandering away from the sword to browse what else was available.
After a while, he sat by the fireplace (a small brazier in the corner of the tent).
”You don’t need to buy it if you want it,” Maggie said. “Anything you want, just go ahead and take it. It’s the least I can offer for you finding my lamp again.”
Scarlett scanned the shop, grimacing at the strange items on sale. “Nothing takes my fancy.”
”Go on,” Maggie said, smiling warmly at Scarlett. “What are you afraid of?”
”I’m not sure,” Scarlett said, tentatively stroking one of the tables. “I’m just worried something bad’s gonna happen if we have any of this stuff in our house.”
She espied a dusty old book on one of the shelves.
Her posture immediately perked up. “Hello,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
Scarlett stepped over to the tome and picked it up, brushing some dust off the top.
Maggie waddled over to her, chuckling to herself. “That is a grimoire. Sixteenth century.”
She turned the pages and perused their contents. “You mean, like, witch’s spells and things?”
”Pretty much, yeah,” Maggie said. “They might just work if you give them a go.”
”No, I think it’s best if I enjoy its contents,” Scarlett said, sliding the large volume into her bag. “It will keep me busy for a while.”
Dylan examined the haunted baby rattle he had found the first time he entered the shop.
He placed it to his ear and rattled it.
Dylan gazed up and gaped at Maggie. “There’s no sound,” Dylan said.
Maggie glanced at Dylan.
“This rattle, it doesn’t make a noise,” Dylan said, shaking it in his ear. “Nothing.”
Without even a slight movement from Dylan, the rattle made a noise and then burned red hot, causing Dylan to drop it.
”Ow,” Dylan said, shaking his hand. “It burned my hand again.”
Maggie and Scarlett filled the Shop of the Macabre with laughter at Dylan’s misfortune.
”That is why you mustn’t tempt the wrath of the dead,” Maggie said, placing the rattle back on the shelf.
“A ghost living in it doesn’t change the fact that it’s broken,” Dylan said, stroking his burnt hand. “If someone buys it, they’ll be expecting a sound.”
“I wouldn’t recommend anybody buying it for their children,” Maggie said. “It’s for display only.”
“I guess,” Dylan said, brushing a hand through his hair.
Scarlett smiled and traipsed towards the entrance. “Come, it’s getting late. I think we’re done here.”
”Ok,” Dylan said, giving Maggie a big bear hug and bounding towards his wife.
The Jones bid Maggie and her assistant goodbye before vacating the fair and returning to their flat in the crescent.
Unbeknownst to Scarlett or Maggie Lee, Dylan swiped the rattle and took it in his satchel.
It now sits in his office, on his desk, waiting in the shadows to strike again with its sting.
The Robinsonverse 