by Jon Jacks
‘The Rye Man? You’ve seen him?’
Abruptly, he’s terrified once more. He’s trembling so much I’m worried he’s so unsteady on his feet he’s going to topple over. He glances anxiously about us, as if expecting the Wry Man to appear out of nowhere alongside us. Which, I now realise, isn’t impossible.
‘What did you do? What did he say?’
He’s so unnerved you’d think that I was the one paying for him to be killed.
Tell him the Wry Man’s so angry that he’s been short changed, he’s going to cut him to pieces!
‘He’s so angry...he said you’d paid him to have us killed.’
‘Look, look – I’m so, so sorry!’
He hangs his head in his hands and wails like he’s the one with the death sentence hanging over him.
‘He wasn’t supposed to kill you! I just wanted you to pay for always making fun of me!’
‘So how were we supposed to pay?’
‘I don’t know! I thought, you know, he’d just spoil your looks! Something like that!’
That would be worse than death.
Yeah, thank God he decided to kill us instead!
‘He said you hadn’t paid enough to have all three of us killed. So you won’t be making any more payments, right?’
‘Ah, well, er...’
He’s shying away, too ashamed to answer.
If I ever loose my looks; just kill me, please.
Bit late for that.
Oh, right; just doesn’t feel that way, strangely.
Shut up you two!
‘You’re scared, is that it?’ I ask Graham.
‘Of course I’m scared! Wouldn’t you be?’
‘Isn’t that what I am supposed to be? Scared?’
‘I don’t want to pay him! I wish I hadn’t paid him! I never hated you all that much!’
‘Glad to hear it! How much do you owe him?’
Don’t tell me you’re going to loan him the money!
‘How do you pay him?’ I continue, ignoring Pearl.
‘It’s nothing really; I just have to take pictures of kids on my phone. Send them to him, read out a little incantation while I–’
‘Incantation?’
‘You know, words that–’
‘I know what an incantation is? I mean doesn’t that strike you as a bit suspicious? That you have to read out an incantation as you send of pictures of kids into the ether?’
Oh, good word; ether!
WhiteWraithes vol two.
‘Surely you can’t believe in witch–’
‘This from a guy who believed in the Slender Man?’
‘I didn’t believe in him! I just wished there were someone like him who could punish those–’
‘Yes, yes; I get it! This incantation – what is it? What are the words?’
‘Into the…into the ether I do send...’
Hey, he’s read WhiteWraithes too!
‘...all this life for you to rend.’
Who gets to write his incantations? A greeting card writer?
Jeez, I’d hate to get a greeting card from you!
You did: you always demanded one.
‘And you didn’t think it at all suspicious that you were reading that out as you sent these photos?’
‘Well, he told me I should wipe out the photos as soon as I’d–’
‘What if he’s been stealing their souls? Or their essences, maybe?’
Hey, I thought you hadn’t read vol three?
*
Chapter 12
Just as I’m trying to work out how I could save the souls of all the kids Graham has sold to this Devil-like Wry Man, the bell for class rings.
Oh well, doesn’t it always happen that way?
Just as it was getting interesting.
Seeing the urgent clanging of the bell as an opportunity to close the conversation, Graham spins away, heading off towards his own class. I reach out to grab his arm, moving far swifter than even I expected,
Gripping him tightly on his forearm, I wrench my arm back, dragging him round to face me once more. I pull harder than I intended and he almost topples over.
He looks surprised, even scared.
‘What’s he done to you? How’d you do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘Come on; you must realise how strong you suddenly are! That hurt, the way you grabbed me!’
Don’t go getting all excited, Amina; anything would hurt Graham!
Unless, you know – she’s suddenly got the strength of three girls!
Three pretty girls. So that’s like the strength of two babies.
‘How did you contact this Rye Man?’ I ask, ignoring the girls once again. ‘How did you know how to find him?’
‘I didn’t! I didn’t even know he really existed; I just wanted him to exist. As I said, I needed someone all-powerful who could address the wrongs of the world. Once you’ve called him up the once though – I just whispered for help: like a prayer I sort of let drift on the wind – you can’t get rid of him! If you just think of him, he’s there. If you fear him, he’s there. And so if you try not to think of him, he’s there!’
*
We’re not going into class; we need to find Adam!
Yaaay! We’re playing hooky! What next – mugging old ladies?
Yaaay! And we’re going straight to the police station, to turn ourselves in!
No, I’m going to contact him using ye modern-day dark powers: behold, ye mysterious powers of ye cellphones!
Oh yeah; I’d forgotten all about them, weirdly.
*
Just hearing my voice on the phone, Adam can tell I’m worried.
He makes an excuse to leave his team for an hour or so, meets up with me.
It’s so good to just hold him in my arms, to feel his arms wrapped around me.
We just stay like that for a minute. Not talking. Just my head resting against his chest.
My breathing heavy, anxious.
‘What is it? What’s worrying you like this?’ he asks, concerned, tenderly stroking my head, my hair.
I could stay like this for days.
‘It’s hard to explain, I...’
It’s not hard to explain; it’s impossible!
I’m being chased by this Devil-like guy who devours the spirits of kids whose pictures are sent by cellphone.
Yeah, that should do it; should get Adam to at best dump me straight away. At worst, to have me committed to some hospital hidden far far away in the countryside.
So where do I start?
Should I start?
Should I just forget it all?
‘I think I might know what’s wrong...’ Adam says unsurely.
I jerk my head back excitedly.
‘You do?’
‘You’ve just lost your very closest friends–’
‘Oh no no, Adam! You don’t know!’
I hug him tighter, rest my head on his chest once more.
‘Please Amina; hear me out. I do know what I’m taking about!’
‘Oh, so what I’m suffering comes under maintenance, does it?’ I sort of both snap angrily and wail tearfully.
I jerk my head back once again.
‘Wait: how did you know I’d lost my friends?’
‘I’ve worked at your school, remember? There was hardly anyone I passed who didn’t mention it at some point.’
‘Is that why you’re with me? Because you feel sorry for me?’
‘Of course not! How could you think I’d do that?’
‘Sorry, it’s just that...that I’ve been through so many shocks lately!’
‘Of course you have; and that’s what I mean. What’s happening to you, it might seem unusual but–’
‘Might seem unusual?’
I pull a little away from him, laugh bitterly.
‘Bereavement plays strange tricks on the mind; trust me, I know about this!’
‘Another one of your incredible skills, is it? Alon
g with plumbing?’
‘I am trying to help here, Amina! I’ve sensed that, sometimes, you kinda withdraw into yourself; like you’re having a conversation with yourself – or even your lost friends.’
I almost jump away from him in surprise. He can’t fail to notice the effect his words have had on me.
‘You do know!’ I scream excitedly, wrapping my arms tightly about him once again.
‘I didn’t know; I sort of guessed. It’s not as unusual as you’d think!’
I pull back a little, stare at him surprise.
‘It’s not unusual to have your friends’ spirits move into your body?’
‘Ah, so that’s what you think’s happened, do you?’
I frown, puzzled.
‘Of course! What else do you think it could be?’
‘Well, the main word there is “think”; our imaginations are much more powerful than we’d like to give them credit for!’
‘Imagination?’ I pull back sharply, glare at him. ‘That’s all you think it is? My imagination?’
He shrugs.
‘Really, Amina: what else do you think it could possibly be?’
‘I know it’s them: their spirits! They talk to me – like they’re really there! Are you saying I don’t know my friends?’
‘Of course you know your friends; you know all their habits, right?’
I nod.
‘All their sayings, yes?’
I nod – then stop. I know where all this is going.
‘You’re going to say that’s why I think they’re there? They’re just my memories of them!’
He nods.
‘You don’t want to lose them. You believe you’re the only one who can keep them alive. And you’re feeling guilty: they died at your house, while you survived.’
Now I’m furious.
‘All this amazing skill at psycho... – at figuring out what I’m thinking: that’s all down to another amazing teacher, is it?’
‘I was lucky; I went to a good school. But I went off the rails, angry at all the restrictions there. And now I pay for that by working in maintenance, rather than the investment bank Mommy and Daddy hoped I’d end up in.’
‘But wait – I can prove it’s not my imagination!’ I declare triumphantly. ‘There’s a man, this Wry Man, who’s like the Slender Man, and we’ve all seen him!’
‘Slender Man?’ He warily stares at me. ‘And you’ve all seen him?’
‘No, wait! It’s not as crazy as it seems. He’s not the Slender Man, obviously! He doesn’t exist! And by all, I don’t just mean me and the girls! Graham too! Graham’s seen him...’
My voice drifts off as I see the hurt and anxiety in Adam’s eyes.
‘Graham’s getting treatment, isn’t he?’ I say miserably, remembering the medical records Adam had managed to access. ‘Treatment for mental instability?’
Adam nods sadly, like he wishes he hadn’t won this argument, wishes he’d lost, been proven wrong.
‘Am I crazy, like he is, Adam?’
*
Chapter 13
It’s so strange waking up without Pearl and Chloe.
I feel – very lonely.
Perhaps if the girls had made some effort to protest when Adam was insisting they didn’t really exist: maybe even if they’d just made a few wisecracks. Yet, instead, they’d been so strangely, so uncharacteristically, silent.
And now? Now it’s like they’re finally dead.
Like I’ve finally been made to accept that they’re really gone.
On my way to school, it’s the worst day of my life. I hadn’t realised how much I’d come to enjoy having the girls squabbling in my head. It was like they were still here, still with me.
Still making me laugh.
Still making me angry.
Still winding me up.
Still gossiping wildly.
It’s hard to believe all that was really just me: conjuring them up into a form of life within my imagination. Giving them life.
And all along, they didn’t really exist. They were just my memories.
Memories of the best friends I’ve ever had.
There are advantages to accepting that my friends have really gone, of course.
For a start, it means I no longer have a death sentence hanging over me. The tuna sandwiches Bet made were just an accident, nothing more. They weren’t some weird conspiracy to kill us dreamt up by Graham.
Graham, poor guy, just needs help.
As I might have done, too: if I hadn’t faced up to how I was allowing my wishful thinking to override my reason.
And, of course, if I hadn’t had Adam to help me face up to the sad reality that Chloe and Pearl are no longer around to have fun with.
*
The school yard is mainly empty, everyone arriving heading straight indoors. The only one standing out there is Graham.
He’s shuffling nervously on his feet, wringing his hands. His eyes wide and fearful.
As soon as he sees me, he rushes over.
‘Amina! I have to warn you! The Rye Man came to me last night. He made me pay up the last–’
‘Graham, please!’ I grab his arm as firmly yet as tenderly as I can. ‘He doesn’t exist! Believe me! He’s just up there; in your imagination. He doesn’t exist anywhere else!’
I point up towards his head. I try to appear as reasonable and consoling as I can.
Graham simply looks bewildered, even more fearful than before.
‘No, no, Amina! You saw him too, remember? He can’t just be in my mind if you saw him too!’
‘I was upset, Graham! I’ve just lost my friends. I was imagining things too. But now I’m not. And now I no longer see him!’
He grabs my arm, perhaps a little too tightly, a little too frenziedly.
‘Amina, listen! I saw him last night! He made me send the photos I’d collected. Stood over me while I did it! That means I’ve paid up everything I owe. That means he’s coming after you!’
‘Graham, please!’
Now I’m trying to control my anger. He means well. He can’t help it. But all this is just making me nervous again.
I’m worried that, like him, I’m not far from tipping over into being completely crazy.
I need help.
I need Adam.
Graham needs help.
Oh please please let someone come along who can help us both.
And then, oh my God, I see him.
The Wry Man is standing by the school gates, grinning.
*
Chapter 14
‘Run Amina!’
Graham has also seen the Wry Man. He’s trying to run, trying to drag me along with him.
But I’m steadfastly staying put.
All this is crazy. I’m crazy if I accept this imaginary man exists.
‘Graham, please: he’s not really there!’
‘You can see him? Then he is there! You have to run!’
He’s more frantic than ever. His terrified gaze flicks from where he wants us to run then back to the languidly approaching Wry Man.
The Wry Man appears amused by our confusion.
He’s almost by us.
Suddenly, Adam is also by the gates.
‘Amina,’ he yells out anxiously. ‘Run! I can see him too!’
*
Chapter 15
I run.
Oh no no no! The Wry Man really exists!
He wasn’t just someone made up in my imagination!
And I don’t have Chloe and Pearl with me anymore to help me out!
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that the Wry Man appears to be in no hurry. And yet he’s gaining on both me and Graham as we try to race away from him. He’s almost sliding, hovering, across the ground, each long step taking him much farther than it should.
Adam sees that the Wry Man is going to catch us. He rushes in from the gates, tearing across the yard. His head set low, determined.
He’s going to try and bring the W
ry Man down by diving at his waist, I just know.
‘No Adam!’ I scream out in warning. ‘You don’t know what he’s–’
I’m too late. Adam is already diving headlong towards the swiftly approaching Wry Man, intending to wrestle him to the ground in a flying tackle.
As Adam’s arms wrap around his waist, the Wry Man laughs – then vanishes.
*
Adam’s badly cut and bruised, the result of sliding across the yard’s rough tarmac and concrete once the Wry Man had disappeared. The skin around his elbows is particularly badly shredded. I have to take extra special care there as I wipe the cuts clean of grit with some tissues I’d had in my pocket.
‘How’d he do that? How’d he simply vanish?’ he asks, bewildered.
He’s still seated on the floor. I’m kneeling by him.
‘I don’t know; he can just do that.’
‘Just what is he?’
I look to Graham for an explanation. He’s still hovering around us, glancing edgily about us as if expecting the Wry Man to reappear at any moment.
‘He’s bad news! That’s what he is.’
‘I think we deserve a bit more of an explanation than that!’ Adam snaps, grimacing as I try to remove some deeply embedded grit in his arm.
‘Why do you think I should know?’ Graham retorts, his eyes blazing in anger behind the thick glass of his spectacles.
Adam isn’t paying any attention to him. He’s smiling at me. He caresses my cheek gently.
‘Are you all right?’
I nod.
‘Just a little breathless. I’ve probably done more running in the past two days than I’ve done in the rest of my life.’
He grins. Turning his face up towards mine, he brings our lips together in a kiss.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flustered Graham turn away in perhaps both disgust and envy.
As our lips part, Adam turns and glowers at Graham.
‘You seem to be the cause of all this! You must have some idea of what we’re dealing with!’
Graham looks amazed that Adam could even think such a thing. Even so, he frowns, like he’s attempting to come up with some sort of answer to Adam’s demand.
‘The nearest thing I can put it down to is...well, some sort of mix between a hologram and Star Trek’s matter transporter.’
‘Great: a mix of established science and science fiction, in other words? Where the hell does that get us?’
‘How should I know what he really is?’ Graham snaps back. ‘I’m only guessing! Just going by what I’ve been playing around with myself, in science class and at home.’
