by Martyn Ford
In our third session, Dr Vladovski had asked me why the universe is beautiful. When I shrugged, he whispered, ‘The universe is beautiful because we can see it.’
I think I get what he meant now.
Amy went to the front door and posted the book through the letter box, then she strolled back down the path and stood next to the tree again.
‘I believe you to be, as you claim, Chester Parsons,’ Cold Rain said through her mouth. ‘You have a gift to which I must show respect, a talent of wonder and art. But even those as skilled as us should not linger away from ourselves too long.’
Tito’s heart was pumping – we were scared. I’d put all my hope in finding my body here. Now it felt like I was lost, like I was back to square one.
‘Wheergh is hee?’ I asked.
‘I do not know where Wise Earth is. Nor would I tell you if I did. And do not underestimate his ability to hide – he moves by shadow, he sings by silence, he swims by the stars in our night.’
I rolled my eyes.
‘Although, I shall say this. If he lives to this day and you do meet with him, I suspect you will find answers too. Endless wisdom awaits those who ask the right questions.’
Grunting again, I closed my eyes. I wish these people could just speak normally.
‘I hold the journal in anticipation, in whispered hope that he will keep his word and return,’ she said. ‘But perhaps I dare dream too far. Maybe he is truly gone.’
A plan came to me. An idea.
‘Wheregh did he live?’ I said. ‘Afteeerh he left staarrh swimmerghs?’
Cold Rain wasn’t going to help me, that was obvious, but if I could get him to at least think about Wise Earth, Amy might see it too. That’s the thing with consciousness. Thoughts come into your mind – they just appear, as if from nowhere. But you can affect it with words, sounds, pictures. We can’t help ourselves. If someone says, ‘Imagine the smell of warm popcorn,’ it’s quite likely you will. Vladovski even said, ‘You stand a better chance of authoring the thoughts of another than you do your own.’
So perhaps I couldn’t control what appeared in my mind, but maybe I could control what appeared in Amy’s. I sensed Cold Rain in there, behind her eyes, staring at me. And I could see it working.
‘The sand falls fast, the sun draws long, the clock spins and spins,’ she whispered, blinking as though she was tired. ‘Tick … tock … Tick … tock … Be kind to your sister, Chester. I can feel she loves you very much.’
And with that, Cold Rain looked up at the pigeon in the tree above. Amy gasped and grabbed her forehead as he left. The bird shuffled, leapt from the branch and flew straight back up to the Whispered Manor, beneath the stars.
*
‘Wot’s going on then?’ Detective Pepper asked. ‘Eh?’
‘Shush,’ Amy snapped. ‘Just be quiet.’
She was sitting on the bonnet of the car. We had parked in a lay-by about a mile away, on a winding road that zigzagged up the side of a hill. From here, through the trees, across the horizon, I saw the Whispered Manor below. At this distance you could never guess what went on inside that place.
‘Nice view,’ Detective Pepper said.
My plan worked – kind of.
‘I … I heard him … I felt him thinking in my mind,’ Amy had said. ‘I … I saw a place. It’s hazy … I … Wise Earth and Cold Rain. They were there together. They were arguing. Fighting about something.’
The image she had was clear – she described the place we needed to go. But she couldn’t tell us where it actually was. Now Amy was desperately trying to remember. Trying to remember someone else’s memories.
‘They used to be friends,’ she whispered. ‘Aw, it’s right there, like a name you know but can’t recall. They were … they were having dinner. I …’ She wrapped her arms around her head and scrunched her eyes.
‘Hang about, I got an idea,’ Detective Pepper said.
‘Will you please be quiet.’
‘Nah, listen. He pictured something using your noggin, right? What if there’s more information in there. Like a’ internet cookie on a computer – remembers ya password and that. What if you trigger something. Specific like.’
The gravel on the ground crunched under my fist as I came closer, behind the car and on to the edge of the road. ‘What are you saying?’ I typed.
‘Lemme tell ya a story.’ Detective Pepper turned to me, Amy and Silent Cameraman, making sure we were all paying attention. ‘It’s my fourth birthday. We got cake. Jam. Buttercream. Very nice. Very nice indeed. But we also got a big bowl o’ jelly. Lemon flavour. Yella.’
‘This better be going somewhere,’ Amy said.
‘I’m sitting at the table, mouth fulla jelly. Havin’ a lovely time. My brother, now he was a naughty little scamp. Mean. I tell ya. Used to throw rocks at me. Once he stole my pencil case and replaced all the pens with worms. Cold wet worms. I open it up in class – teacher sees, shows everyone. From that day on they called me The Worminator.’
‘What’s the point of this story?!’
‘Hang about, we’re getting there. Back to the birthday. I’m eating jelly. And my brother, he gets one of the candles, lights it, then … cor … then he comes over and drips hot wax down the back of my neck. I’m screaming, I’m crying. It hurts. Parents, well, they was proper angry … tea party was ruined. Now, to this day, if I see lemon jelly, if I smell it, even if I think about the stuff, I remember that moment vividly. Just sails me back there, every time. Connected, ya know, been conditioned to associate lemon jelly with pain.’
Amy was nodding.
‘Now.’ Detective Pepper faced her. ‘You said Wise matey and Rainy chops were eating dinner together. What were they havin’?’
‘Um …’ She closed her eyes. ‘Italian food …’
‘Gotta be specific.’
‘Uh … there was spaghetti and …’ She looked up. ‘Olives. They were eating olives.’
‘Right. Oi.’ Detective Pepper clicked his fingers at Silent Cameraman. ‘Gimme some olives.’
Silent Cameraman just shrugged.
‘We’ll go buy some.’
‘It’s the middle of the night,’ Amy said. ‘Shops are closed.’
‘I know – we’ll get Brian on the blower.’ Detective Pepper took his phone from his pocket, went to his contacts and pressed call. ‘Tell him we need some olives, pronto.’ He held the mobile to his ear.
While we waited on the side of the road, I sat in the lay-by and let Carlos crawl up and down my arm. When he arrived at my hand, I threw him into the air and he landed on my head. Squeaking, he nodded for me to do it again. Teaching my new pet rat tricks would, normally, be fun – Carlos was certainly enjoying it. But my thoughts kept drifting. I would be worrying about my body, about finding Wise Earth, about getting answers, and then I’d start daydreaming about food and the jungle. I’d flinch and then realise where I was – stay focused, I thought. Don’t get lost.
Also we checked the news and the zoo people had sent out an emergency response team. Which was bad. As far as they were concerned, they had a missing gorilla. I don’t know much about running a zoo but I bet losing a dangerous animal is one of the worst things that can happen. Obviously I would have returned Tito but I needed a mind for my consciousness to live in – no way would Amy let me shack up with her until I found my body. And being in Detective Pepper’s brain? No thank you.
Some time later a car came up the road, its headlights stinging my eyes.
Brian pulled into the lay-by with new batteries for the camera and a bag of snacks.
‘I had black olives in the fridge and found this jar of green ones in the back of the cupboard,’ he said, closing the driver’s door.
‘Aw, chief, you are a diamond.’ Detective Pepper lifted out a couple of plastic pots. ‘Amy, throw a few of these down ya shouter. Give ’em a sniff. If they don’t trigger something then nothing will. Taste ’n smell – early senses, ya know, get bonded right tight to memories. Top job, Brian, top
job.’
He was right, Brian was brilliant. We didn’t even have to explain why we needed the olives. Once he understood that it was important, he drove out here to help us – no questions asked. Still, we explained everything to him and he seemed even more concerned than before.
‘Chest-o,’ he said, sitting carefully on the ground by my side, putting his arm round my hairy shoulder. ‘It’s going to be OK, yah? You hang in there, all right?’
I grunted.
Amy took the small olive pots and sat on a tree stump in the entrance to the woods, where it was a little quieter.
‘Red Rose Pictures,’ Brian added, shaking his head and looking across the road. ‘They’re furious with me. All I wanted to do was make them … make them proud. Make splendid television. A second series that’d win awards. A second series that’d get viewing figures that meant something.’ He sighed. ‘All my life I’ve tried my best. I just … I’ve produced more than fifty TV shows.’ Brian laughed a sad laugh, his shoulders hunched over. ‘The critics hate them all. They call my work contrived – so I make it natural. Then they call it boring. I can’t win. It hurts to pour your heart and soul into a project and get ridiculed. Laughed at. Considered a joke. Maybe my best just isn’t good enough.’
I patted his thigh – probably too hard, but he appreciated the gesture.
‘And now this … Now …’ He stared down into his lap and picked at his fingernail. Brian had bags under his eyes – he was clearly exhausted. And his fake tan made him look worse. All his wrinkles and creases were dark, all his enthusiasm had drained away. ‘If anything happens to you, kid … it’s … it’s all over.’
I could tell, even though Silent Cameraman was filming this, Brian was being himself. For the first time, I truly wanted to make Amy and Chester a success. I decided right there and then that when I found myself, I would try harder – I wouldn’t complain, I wouldn’t moan. We’d finish the show. And it would be good.
‘Brian,’ I typed into my machine. ‘I know what it feels like to fail. The only people who think I’m a serious actor are my mum and Amy. To everyone else I’m just the kid who can control animals.’
‘No, no, don’t be silly.’ Brian smiled. ‘You’ll always be the Puff Puff Wheat Puffs kid.’
‘Harr … harr.’ I faked a laugh.
Sitting on my foot, Carlos began humming the jingle. I grumbled and flicked him off – he rolled across the ground and squeaked to silence.
‘But you’re so young, Chest-o – so talented, so much potential,’ Brian said. ‘You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Me? I’m in my fifties. I work in TV. Who even watches TV nowadays? Who sits down, flicks on the telly and sees what’s on? Nobody, that’s who. Those days are long gone. Now, kids, they just stream the best thing, they just log on and enjoy their favourite YouTubers.’ He waved towards Amy but she wasn’t listening. ‘No offence to her, of course, you know I love her work. Oh, I’m an old man in a young man’s game. This series … it’s the last chance I’m going to get.’
‘Oi, that’ll do, all right, rein it in a bit yeah?’ Detective Pepper said. ‘Ya being a right soppy sausage, banging on about ya career. Monkey chops ain’t even got a body. He’s playin’ a game of musical chairs and there ain’t no chairs left, ya know. Music’s gone. Nowhere to sit.’
‘Yah, yah, yes, yes you’re right. Of course. This is not about me.’ Brian stood and composed himself. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.’
Detective Pepper’s headlights were sending white beams into the woods ahead and the hazard lights clunked on then off, on then off, a yellow glow warming up the darkness. Amy was still on the tree stump at the edge of the road. I watched her as she sniffed olives and wrestled with her memories. This was especially nice of her as I knew she absolutely hated olives – she once described them as disgusting salt grapes that taste like coins combined with seawater. I don’t mind them but I see what she means.
Amy was sitting perfectly still and every time the hazard lights flashed, she appeared in the yellow light, then disappeared into darkness again. Clunk-clunk, clunk-clunk, clunk-clunk. Amy sitting, pitch-black, Amy sitting, pitch-black, Amy sitting, pitch-black, Amy standing up, pitch-black, Amy turning, pitch-black and then, finally, Amy smiling.
‘I know where we need to go,’ she whispered from the trees. ‘I know where Wise Earth lived.’
‘Hey guys,’ Amy said as she drove Detective Pepper’s car. She was back to her old self. Or her new self. This was Loser Amy speaking to the audience, via Silent Cameraman, who was filming her from the passenger seat. ‘So total cray-cray night. In terms of progress it’s a five. But if I was scoring it on strangeness … defo the big ten. Let’s run from the top. Number one, Chester’s body is not, I repeat not, at the Whispered Manor. I know, right?’ She made an explosion noise. ‘Bombshell. Number two, the rat on Tito’s shoulder …’
Silent Cameraman swung round to film me. Carlos stood up on his hind legs and bowed.
‘That’s actually one of the star swimmers. As a punishment they made him live in a rat’s body. Like, forever.’
We drove along a main road. I watched the street lights flow past, the car flashed orange, then dark, orange, then dark, specks of rain glowing on the window. I wanted to smash those street lights, every last one, but I didn’t know why.
I was worrying more and more about my memories. What else couldn’t I remember? There was no way to tell. It is literally impossible to make a list of things you have forgotten because, well, you’ve forgotten them. How long did I have left? This was uncharted territory. Like swimming really far out to sea – there will be a point when you don’t have enough energy to get back.
And that’s the end of you.
How long before I drown in Tito’s mind? Drown like Carlos in this rat?
‘That is a bit strong innit,’ Detective Pepper said. He was sitting in the back with me. ‘Now if I had to be an animal for the rest of my life – tough one that – I guess I’d be a … a cat maybe? Have a right good snuggle in the sunshine. Terrorise a goldfish and— Nah, nah, nah, hang about, scratch that one – I’d be a cam-o DOUGH dragon. Done. Sign me up.’
There was a long pause and, when we realised he meant ‘Komodo dragon’, we all laughed.
‘Wot? That’s a top choice. You can pipe down ’n all, Carlos, you’re a rat, mate.’
‘How far away is until we arrive?’ I typed into my talky machine thing.
‘Doesn’t really make sense,’ Amy said. ‘But I know what you mean. Not long now.’
‘I love this motor but sitting in the back ain’t my cuppa tea,’ Detective Pepper said, shuffling around, his leather jacket squeaking on the leather seats.
‘Yeah, well, I need to present the update and I know the way, so you’ll have to make do,’ Amy said. ‘Where was I?’ She turned to the camera. ‘So, guys, a man called Wise Earth founded the star swimmers like a thousand years ago – and now we’re heading to his last known location. Maybe he—’
‘I can do all that,’ Detective Pepper said. ‘Oi, chief, swing that rand this way.’ Silent Cameraman pointed the camera into the back of the car. ‘That’s it. Right—’
‘No, I’m doing it,’ Amy said.
‘Nah, I’ve got this one, buttercup.’ He grabbed the camera so it stayed locked on him. ‘You just concentrate on the road. Right, so we’re off to this gaff which, according to Amy’s nut, is where this wise geezer used to live – he’s been missing for ages. Now I’ve had some cases in my day, but this one is, well, I tell ya … We’ve got an ancient order that eats babies, right, a bad bunch—’
‘Nurgh,’ I said.
‘Wot?’
Then I typed: ‘No, they don’t eat babies, they steal babies. They mind jump into them. When that body gets old they just go down the hospital and get another one – so they can kind of live forever.’
Carlos nodded.
‘All right, whatever,’ Detective Pepper said. ‘I knew a bloke back in th
e eighties. He had a baby. Full head of hair from day one. Looked like a furry football. Little Darren Baxter. Grew up to be trouble ’n all. That barnet though. Haunts me.’
‘See?’ Amy said. ‘That’s why you can’t do a piece to camera – you ramble on about nothing.’
‘Nah, nah, I was getting to it.’
‘Anyway,’ she continued, Silent Cameraman focusing on her again, ‘with luck we’ll find Wise Earth and he’ll know something about Chester’s body.’
‘Wise Earth,’ Detective Pepper said. ‘Wise. Earth. Mr Earth. Hey, Wise, how was ya weekend? Establish any wonky mystic cults? Hack into any babies? Wise Earth. Who’d call themselves that, eh?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I typed. ‘All we need to do is find him. He’s at the centre of this. He’s the key.’
‘Oi, back here,’ Detective Pepper said. Silent Cameraman turned again. ‘I’m feelin’ sidelined if I’m honest. Monkey chops – top lad, can’t fault him. But sometimes that Amy girl is quite spikey. I think she might be jealous. She’s threatened by me. She wants the show to be all about her – ya notice how she took all the credit for the olive idea? Gone to her head innit. Bit of a diva, ya know?’
‘I can hear you,’ Amy said.
‘Yeah but they’ll just edit it later – little talking-head thing. Cut to me having a chinwag. Cut back to you. Maybe we should play on this rivalry? Get a bit of a feud goin’, just bants though, above the belt, ya-know-what-I-mean?’
‘I think you might be a fruitloop, Mr Pepper,’ Amy said. ‘Like legit crazy.’
‘Nah, I think you might be.’
‘Hmm, I think you are.’
‘Thing is though, Amy, you.’
‘You.’
‘Nah you.’
I grunted. There was a long silence.
‘Your sister, she’s hard work ain’t she?’ Detective Pepper whispered, leaning over to me. ‘Looks sweet but give it a poke and it’ll get punchy. Like a kangaroo. Never poke a kangaroo. One of the first things they teach ya in the army. You ever controlled a kangaroo?’
I wasn’t paying attention – I just stared out of the window.
