(Recap, chapters one and two: Nick, on his way to work at the Mill, has a violent encounter with some Tin Men. Later, his Dad informs him that there’s been a terrible accident. Nick heads to The Tinker’s cottage to confront him).

The whole morning could be seen as a trial. Yet another test. First, the Tin Men. Why were they so close-in, far from their usual literal stomping grounds? And the Tin Man that rescued him without a word – that was Mr. Tony. Former best friend of his father. Smashed the Haunted Tree limbs without a word. Acted like he didn’t even recognize Nick. The whole thing was eerie, the entirety of it, every element of it.

Would’ve sent his dad, if he’d shared it with him, into…not sure what. Some kind of tailspin. It’s been a long time since Nick has confided in his dad – it usually goes the other way. Nick doesn’t really feel a lack because of it, a need to have that kind of a dad. No good really would’ve come from sharing it. Maybe he’ll tell Amee. Then again, she might turn that into another conversation about leaving. As some sign of danger simmering. A reason to leave The Forest. They will leave. This might be the right time. Amee’s point, which is hard to argue against, is that there will never be a right time. Nick wants what Amee wants, but if Nick’s mom and dad seemed like they could weather him leaving it would be so much easier. His mom, honestly, might barely notice.

A delayed reaction, time eroded, she looks out the window at the dark trees, something pulling at her memory, a moment trying to explain itself. She’ll stand as still as the night air, the blankness of her life surrounds her silently, watching. Some VILE stares at her from the counter in the kitchen. A thought, some thought, some thought nags at her. She can’t place it. It’s like a memory that is just out of reach. Just slightly outside of cognition. It absolutely drags her down though. Out of reach, but still crushing, heavy. The fact that it is not even full formed, this thought, makes it much much worse. It causes her to be separated from her life, from herself, and she doesn’t even know what it is. Like she can vaguely discern a different life, a different Anna, a suggestion of other memories connected. But nothing ever lands. Nothing she can hang on to. Her husband – Nick’s father – has come to think that she just doesn’t love him anymore, and Nick used to be so confused by her detached wandering through each day. But what she feels detached from is this other memory -this other suggestion of a memory, of a life. She isn’t angry. Mostly blank. Sometimes she drinks in the afternoon when Nick and Mr. Nick are gone. Every now and then this makes her feel as if she will someday know what this missing memory is.

One day as she stared out at the trees, she felt this rush of understanding that seemed like it was a force pulling her towards even more understanding. She started to cry and simultaneously laugh. Like madness or true epiphany, so similar sometimes. At the very apex of the feeling, like her brain was absolutely going to bestow that elusive thought, she suddenly had an equally overwhelming craving for VILE.

A craving she’d never felt so powerfully before. She didn’t even like the feeling VILE gave her. But this was an unstoppable craving, it took over her mind, and then her body, completely. She had to have it, she had to have it right now. She grabbed some out of a drawer in her bedroom, she took some, and the craving was satisfied, the craving was gone. But so was the epiphany, whatever it was. And it never came again. And that, of course, was far worse than never having had that feeling at all.

The run-in with the Tin Men, and Mr. Tony, his Dad coming in to tell him about the accident, but not wanting to follow through with the Tinker, all his has sent his day into an unplanned trajectory. He must put it all behind him when he sees Amee. He would love to talk things over with his Dad; what would leaving The Forest mean, how would they and he deal with it, what good advice might his Dad have for him, but that’s not what that conversation, when he finally has it, will be like. Nick will tell his Dad that he and Amee are leaving, that it’s what they want, that it’s for the best – and then Nick will likely spend the rest of the time, not just this conversation, but the rest of the time he has in The Forest, making his Dad feel OK about it.

Just ahead, finally, the cottage, the destination his Dad couldn’t deal with, that Nick is not thrilled to arrive at, but time to take care of all this.

Nick walks up to a cottage. Outside, it appears to be just like all the other cottages in The Forest – homey. Homely. Its own little nook in the woods. Nick knows better of course, and the big sign hanging by the front stoop announces it: it says “The Tinker”.

Just that sign says a lot about The Tinker. It’s dramatic, uncalled for, ostentatious, confident to the point of arrogance. Also – beautifully rendered. The lettering itself a work of art. And how it appears to hang, somehow, separately from the stoop? Held in place by some invisible force, some inscrutable logic? Or come to think of it – is it even really there? Oh, now Nick’s starting to twist his mind around trying to reason out if it’s an illusion – this is a typical state when confronted with anything Tinker related. He’s been here many times, never invited, never welcome. The sign is always there, both warning and greeting. It’s real, Nick decides.

He pauses, takes a deep breath to steel himself and knocks. Nothing. Knocks again. Nothing. Nick steps to his left, looks in the window, and there, seated at his workbench, staring directly at Nick with a creepy little smile on his face, is The Tinker. Nick shakes his head in exasperation and opens the door.

Well, well. Nick. Handsome, smart Nick.

The Tinker remains seated, but rather than continue to stare at Nick, as he speaks his attention is back to whatever project he has going. The interior of the cottage is nothing like the interior of any other cottage is The Forest, that is certain. Rather than, say, regular furniture, or a hearth, or a well-used kitchen, it is, definitively, A Laboratory. The entire interior is painted antiseptic white, the only thing adorning any wall in here is a giant stuffed head of a Kalidah. How that could possibly be – who could be powerful enough to slay a Kalidah, and who would be insane enough to stuff it and mount it on their wall – explains the mystery of The Tinker rather tidily. You will find very few that have ever seen him anywhere but here, and no one who has had a conversation with him didn’t leave them feeling like they’d crossed paths with a brilliant demon of sorts. An evil obscured by the glare of genius.

Mr. Sam is over at the hospital, he’s —

I know.

Nick might be uncomfortable around The Tinker, anyone would be, but they do seem to have arrived, over many years, at something of a truce, an unspoken agreement that they are both just doing what they do, at root two players on stage performing their already written roles.

OK, then why aren’t you over there.

Nick needs to be forthright without this tipping over into acrimony and taunts. That is a frequent outcome of Tinker interactions as well. The Tinker, of course, revels in the taunts.

To shed some poor, poor worker tears, hm?

Nick’s already feels his hackles rising. Staying calm, however, is the only correct play when The Tinker starts in.

Can you just–

Tinker lifts up what he’s been working on this whole time – a tin arm with hydraulic pistons. Gripped in one hand, he shakes it impatiently – vaguely threateningly – at Nick.

These are custom-made, boy. I can’t make ‘em in advance, now can I.

He holds it aloft, and his voice is a sneer. His contempt rather majestic.

I know what to make for everyone, Nick, yes? Right? How to size it properly, all the details, just so. Just can’t make it in advance, that’d be bad business.

Ok, ok. I just wanted to make sure you —

— though I do even have you all sized up.

Tinker is trying to rattle him. They both know it won’t really work, but Tinker can’t resist.

Where’s your Dad? It’s usually him, isn’t it.

Yeah. Well, you might be dealing with me now.

The Tinker gets back to his work, about to forget that Nick is even there.

Long as I get paid, handsome boy.

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