The Doorman

On the twelfth night of every month,
The members arrive.

Not together,
But at measured intervals,
As though each has mastered
The art of arriving unnoticed.

Some remain only briefly,
Exchanging a book,
A letter,
A whispered confidence,

Before disappearing once more
Into the sleeping city.
Others stay until dawn.

Nocturna asks very little of its patrons,

Yet its two rules
Are absolute.

The first,

Within these walls,
No member shall ever speak
Another member’s true name.

Only the names
Chosen for Nocturna
May be used.

The second,

Nothing spoken
Within Nocturna

May ever pass beyond
Its walls.
Secrets belong
To those who entrust them.

The club door
Remains permanently locked.
Admission is granted
Only by invitation,
And by the judgement
Of its custodian.

His name is Hargraves.
Daniel Hargraves.

He occupies
A velvet-curtained alcove
Beside the entrance,
Where little escapes
His attention.

A man of imposing stature,
His broad shoulders
Nearly fill the doorway itself.

His head is clean shaven.
His beard,
Thick and black,
Frames a face
Marked by a single pale scar,

Beginning above the left eyebrow
And descending quietly
To the middle of his cheek.

His eyes are dark,
Alert,
And endlessly observant.
Few visitors
Forget meeting them.

His demeanour,
However,
Is one of quiet precision.
Measured.
Courteous.
Almost scholarly.

He greets every member
With the same calm respect,
Whether they are a first-time visitor

Or one who has crossed
Nocturna’s threshold
For decades.

Should a disagreement arise,
It seldom lasts long.
Hargraves possesses
The rare ability
To end unpleasantness
Without raising his voice.

Those few
Who have mistaken
His kindness for weakness
Rarely make
The same mistake twice.

He stands
As the silent boundary
Between the sanctuary within
And the disorder beyond.

Guardian.
Usher.
Custodian.
Protector.

When the heavy black door
Finally opens,
His deep, polished voice
Greets every arrival alike.

“Welcome to Nocturna.
May your stay
Be a pleasant one.”

Only then
Does he step aside,
Allowing another keeper of secrets
To enter the night.