The Cult of Following, Book Two

by Barbara Jaques

  *

  ‘Oh God.’ It was long slow groan.

  ‘Percy?’

  ‘Just walk straight past him, Joyann. Don’t say a word, not even hello. It only encourages the little bastard.’

  Percy strode on, two cups of tea in hand. Ahead, near the pool, the boy neighbour was sitting with Kojak and a small pile of plastic animals.

  ‘Do you mean the boy?’

  ‘Yes, the bloody boy. I am not in the mood. And if he’s crapped near one of the pool drains again that guard will be blaming me.’

  ‘The boy would do that?’

  ‘No! That bloody rodent. Fires them out its arse like a living machine gun.’

  ‘Why would the guard blame you, Percy?’

  ‘Because he blames me for everything. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he has “it was Mister Field’s fault” written on his headstone. Which could be true of course, if he keeps on going the way he is.’

  ‘I wonder why the boy isn’t in school?’

  ‘Do not ask him, Joyann. Please.’

  ‘Hello Uncle Percy,’ the boy said, brightly, looking up from the spot he had made his own, with a large arrangement of animals. ‘I’ve had the runs.’

  ‘Brilliant. There’s your answer,’ Percy said to Joyann, without looking at the boy. ‘He’s got diarrhoea, and thought, I know, I’ll go and hang out at the nearest communal water source.’

  ‘It was yesterday, Uncle Percy. I’m okay now, thanks for asking. But I am not allowed in school yet.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Joyann, sympathetically. ‘I hope you are feeling much better today, though?’

  The boy shrugged, unwilling to admit anything.

  ‘What game are you playing?’ she asked.

  Percy sighed and resigned himself to conversation.

  ‘Safari,’ the boy said, before explaining in detail which animals were in which enclosure and why.

  ‘And what about this one… it’s a guinea pig, isn’t it? The one Uncle gave to you?’

  ‘Steady Joyann.’

  ‘What?’

  Percy realised she had used the word Uncle as any Singaporean might. He let it drop.

  Joyann returned her attention to the boy, bending over him a little. ‘So?’

  ‘This is Kojak. He’s a keeper.’

  ‘Ah, of course.’ Joyann laughed, lightly. ‘Very good. Enjoy your game. My son also loves animals. I think he is a little older than you.’ She took her tea from Percy, and moved towards a seat. ‘Did you know I had a son, Percy?’

  ‘I knew,’ he insisted. ‘How could I not?’ he rolled his eyes, as if he were being victimised.

  ‘It is very peaceful here. No road noise. Not too many people. It is nice.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Percy said. ‘Here’s someone you might know.’ He gestured to the figure of Amanda walking along with her young child, large bag brimming with towels and other pool necessities.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘The Discussion Group. The early days, I think, but maybe now, too.’

  ‘Hmm. No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Kiwi. Amanda. Brought a friend along to a meeting, apparently; Kristen.’ Percy could think of nothing else to add to his list of prompts.

  As she drew closer so Joyann exclaimed, ‘Ah yes. Of course. Yes, I recognise her now. The book I told you to read. Her friend wrote it. Is that correct? I think I am right in saying that.’

  ‘Uh yes. That is correct.’ Percy felt a little extra warmth rising in his cheeks.

  Amanda greeted Joyann without hesitation, and smiled at Percy. Her child went straight to the water, sitting down on a step in the shallow end, before ripping off and tossing aside a broad brimmed hat shaped like a duck.

  ‘I wouldn’t let it near that one,’ Percy pointed to his boy neighbour, who was still engrossed in his game, head tilted low and sideways as he slowly manoeuvred a rhino.

  ‘It?’ Amanda asked, jamming the now soggy duck back onto her child’s head.

  ‘Your kid.’

  The young child was singing, hands splashing the water roughly in time with an unrecognisable melody. Amanda smiled. ‘Oh. Why?’

  ‘He’s got the shits.’

  She screwed up her nose. ‘Yuk! I won’t. Thanks for sharing.’

  Percy settled himself in a chair, and quietly thought about other things while Joyann and Amanda politely chatted. While the two mothers instinctively watched the children, Percy closed his eyes.

  He reflected on how quiet things were becoming. Kristen was gone, so there was no chance of bumping into her delightful body; The Discussion Group was poisonous: Norm was off limits due to insanity and Percy’s guilt regarding Vee; Phrike seemed incapable of existing outside of his home without the company of Meera; Joyann was going to be busy for a while. Amanda was nice, but Percy couldn’t envisage filling his time sitting by the pool with her, using rice cakes to scoop round balls of human excrement from the water.

  His musings were interrupted by laughter. Joyann was hysterical.

  Percy opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. They were looking at him.

  He was brought up to speed. ‘I was just telling Joyann about Kristen,’ Amanda said. ‘You know. The party? When you told her how crap her book was?’

  Joyann found her breath. ‘Oh my goodness. Is she okay?’

  ‘She’s fine. She knows what Percy is like. She’ll be right.’

  Joyann turned to Percy. ‘I thought you would like the book. I thought reading about foreigners abroad would amuse you.’

  He sniffed. ‘Too much romance.’

  ‘There was no romance,’ Joyann and Amanda said, in unison.

  ‘Okay. Too many words. “The sky became a spectral blue once the rainbow had died.”’ He shook his head, disparagingly.

  ‘Does it say that?’ Joyann said. ‘I don’t think it says anything like that.’

  ‘It doesn’t,’ Amanda said. ‘That’s not how Kristen writes.’

  Percy submitted. ‘Fine. I just didn’t like it.’

  ‘No real harm done,’ Amanda said, as she began emptying her bag onto a table.

  Percy watched, thinking it must be magic. Doctor Who’s Tardis, perhaps, but bag-shaped.

  ‘You need a thick skin to write,’ Amanda continued, as she took out three sharks and a whale, ‘and hers is like a rhino.’

  As if on cue, the boy neighbour moved from his isolated spot to the edge of the pool, still holding the grey plastic animal he’d been using. But his attention had shifted. He was looking longingly at the toys Amanda had produced.

  ‘Are you crook?’ she asked him, hands on her hips.

  ‘No. Yesterday.’

  ‘Okay. I reckon you should play over there, where you were, just for today. Tomorrow, you can play over here, with us. Okay?’ She nodded to her own child. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘I’m at school tomorrow.’

  ‘When you get home. I’ll be here,’ she brightened her face, ‘with the toys!’

  After the boy had shrugged and reluctantly returned to quarantine, Joyann remarked that she thought Amanda had dealt with it well.

  ‘Thanks. He’s a nice lad,’ Amanda replied, cheerfully.

  Percy looked at him, watching as the boy resumed his lonely game, seeming to accept his lot. At his hand, the rhino charged down an arrangement of other animals, always retreating to the centre before repeating the move until no other toy was left standing.

  28. ART’S SISTER

  In typical fashion, the moment Percy’s life filled with company he longed to be alone. Art’s sister and niece had arrived from England, staying with him for three days, en route to New Zealand. His niece wanted to visit all the animal attractions available, which meant at the very least the zoo, night safari, water safari and the bird park. Her mother said that, speaking for herself, she wanted just one day shopping on Orchard Road, if that wasn’t too much to ask since she was paying for it all. They argued in Percy’s house. Percy removed himself to the s
tep outside, bottle of beer in hand.

  The boy neighbour was sitting on his own step, and moved away when he saw Percy.

  ‘Hey. What’s up?’ Percy said, feeling that in the face of war the boy was his ally.

  ‘I’ve got a cold. You don’t like me when I’m ill.’

  Percy couldn’t argue with this. ‘First your runny arse and now a runny nose? What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘The shits and a cold, I guess.’

  ‘Don’t say shits.’ Percy was feeling more accommodating than usual. This kid, compared to the one inside, who was currently bursting from childhood with a bang, was half decent. ‘At least come back and sit on your own step. It’s fine.’

  The boy did as Percy suggested.

  ‘So, young man, where’s your piggy mate?’

  ‘Dead.’

  Percy nearly dropped his bottle.

  ‘Not really. He’s inside. He’s got a skin infection.’

  ‘Nice. Runny arse, runny nose, runny skin. Looking good at your place.’

  ‘I’m run down.’

  Percy did a double take. Surely the boy had not just made a joke?

  ‘That’s what Dad says. What are you doing?’ the boy enquired. ‘Who are the people shouting?’

  ‘Don’t ask. And don’t let people you don’t know stay in your house. Make it a life rule. Bloody nightmare.’

  Percy noticed the boy’s line of sight rising, and turned. ‘Finished?’ he asked the woman now standing directly behind him. He hadn’t realised she was there, but nor did he care very much.

  As well as being considerably smaller, Art’s sister did not especially resemble Art. She was a nondescript person, even featured with unremarkable colouring; a face considered either attractive or forgettable but never striking. In some ways, she and Percy shared this characteristic. As he returned his focus to the bottle, Percy had already forgotten what she looked like; he might have turned again and found a different person standing there and never known the difference. Twice, he and Art’s sister had walked past each other in the airport, after Percy started thinking that he’d lost her to the lavatory.

  ‘I am very sorry about this, Percy.’ She sounded sincere. ‘That one in there can be quite a diva. We’ve settled on the zoo followed by the night safari, Universal Studios, then shopping on Orchard Road the day we fly out.’

  Suspicions roused by the level of detail this stranger seemed compelled to share, Percy said, ‘Good. I am sure the two of you will have fun.’

  ‘You’re not coming?’

  He again looked at her. ‘You don’t want me along,’ he said, hopefully.

  She smiled, ‘Of course we do! I insist.’

  Percy’s attempt to firmly excuse himself hung from his open mouth, words dangling unspoken, while Art’s sister kept on.

  ‘Art told me that you’d be backward about coming forwards. He said to make sure you come out with us each day. He said we should absolutely insist on it. So you’re coming, mister, and that’s that. No need to be bashful around me.’

  The skin on Percy’s back crawled. Mister? Was he twelve? Had all those birthdays been nothing more than one long shitty dream? His eyes met those of the boy, who, Percy noticed, was laughing behind his hand.

  ‘The diva is freshening up. I thought we’d head off in around half an hour, if that suits? Goodness, do you always drink beer at half past ten in the morning?’

  He fiddled with the bottle, as if confirming it was indeed beer. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘No wonder you and Art get along so well. Right…’ Art’s sister walked away, back into the house, the word right not a preamble for anything other than going inside.

  The boy was still laughing behind his hand, though he now looked very much as if he were pretending. ‘She’s bossy,’ he said, before sneezing.

  Percy agreed and swigged his beer. There was nothing he needed to do before going out, and the email to Art could wait until later. With a sharp smack, Percy swatted a mosquito that had landed on his knee, the more accessible part of his leg in terms of hair. He’d splat Art at some point, too, he knew.

  ‘That’s a girl one,’ the boy mumbled through his hand, which was still covering his mouth and nose.

  ‘The mozzie?’

  ‘Yeah. The males feed on nectar and stuff. Only girls drink blood.’

  ‘That would be about right. Something up with your face? Why have you got your hand like that?’

  The boy removed it and grinned. His mouth was covered in thick mucus. The sneeze had proved plentiful. ‘I need a tissue.’

  Unable to hide his revulsion, Percy scrambled to his feet. ‘That is disgusting. Go on,’ he gestured for the boy to go and sort himself out. Percy’s stomach turned a little; the mucus was green. ‘You better not have given it to me.’

  The boy walked towards Percy, rather than away, grinning, his lips strung with slime.

  Percy backed off, and shut the wooden gate. The child, meanwhile, had begun sneezing again, and through the wooden slats Percy could see the lad was now wrestling with great armfuls of snot. Percy grimaced and retched before going indoors.