I flinched because I thought he was going to lunge at me, but his sudden movements sent him back towards the bed. He mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear it because of the blinded nurse still wailing on the floor. She needed help badly.
Courtney gnashed his teeth again, snapping at the air like a dog catching flies. He raised both hands in front of himself, palms up like he was waiting to be handcuffed.
“Courtney, what are you—”
He bit down on his wrist like it was a chicken breast. Blood spurted into the air and drenched his face. He then bit into his other wrist and opened up a second artery. A shower of blood filled the room, the scent like tangy copper – the smell of death. My stomach turned, but not because I felt ill. It turned because I was seeing things no ten-year-old should ever see.
Sarah still didn’t move, but she did scream. People started to file into the room behind us, but the shock of what they encountered meant they didn’t approach further. Courtney was performing some sort of sick show and his growing audience was dumbstruck.
Courtney turned his back on us. He lifted both bleeding wrists over his head and pressed them against the wall. I thought maybe he was trying to stop them from bleeding, but then he started waving them back and forth.
Forming letters with his blood.
More people entered the room, and I spotted the man who had spoken to my dad earlier in Shona. He raced forward and tackled Courtney, throwing him onto the bed and restraining him. All this I witnessed in the corner of my eye because I was transfixed on the word Courtney had just spelled out on the wall in his own blood.
H-E-L-L.
Then Sarah and I were bundled out of the room and I saw nothing else. Thirty minutes later, a doctor came and spoke to us.
17
PC Dorrens was fuming. He was fuming at the hospital staff and he was fuming at us. His furious marching took him here, there, and everywhere, but he didn’t seem to have an actual destination in mind. My family was sitting in the hospital’s staffroom, watching him through the long windows. After a while, a man in a horrible brown jacket arrived and claimed to be a counsellor. He took me and my sister away and spent just short of an hour teaching us about emotional trauma and grief. We left his office with a collection of depressing leaflets, including one about suicide that Sarah read as we walked.
“You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?” I asked.
“No,” was all she said in reply.
We re-entered the staffroom and found Dad talking to PC Dorrens. The officer was just leaving, and he gave us a terse smile before leaving without saying hello. I was glad. The last thing I wanted was more questions. My head was so full of them that any more would make my brain burst.
Mum was sitting in the corner of the room with her head in her hands. Dad was standing and looked exhausted. I didn’t even know what time it was, or even if it was sunny or dark outside. My tummy was rumbling, so I guessed it was dinnertime. We were definitely way past lunch.
Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Take a seat, kids. Your mum needs a few minutes, but then we’ll go home.”
Mum lifted her head and stared into space, just like she had done in the kitchen right before Keith had turned up on our doorstep. I could hardly believe that my birth father’s sudden appearance was the least important thing going on in my life right now.
“Mum, are you okay?”
“Yes, honey, I’m fine.” Her voice sounded right, but she didn’t look at me.
I sat down on a comfy chair in the corner and reached for a magazine on the small table beside it. When I saw it was about wedding dresses, I changed my mind, and Sarah took it instead. It surprised me how well she was keeping herself together. She was quiet, and clearly upset, but she wasn’t freaking out. Two hours ago, she had watched her boyfriend murder himself, yet somehow she was coping.
Or so I thought.
“What did PC Dorrens want?” I asked my dad.
“Answers I couldn’t give him because I don’t have any. Who can make any sense of this? You all knew Courtney better than me. Were there any warning signs that he might kill himself?”
“No,” said Sarah. “He was normal. He was great.”
Dad patted her knee and she allowed him to. “I’m really sorry about this, sweetheart. You’re being really brave.”
Sarah nodded. I noticed she was barely blinking.
“Has anyone seen his parents?” I asked. “Where did they go?”
Dad exhaled and put his hands on his hips. “A doctor came and took them away as soon as they got the news about Courtney. I was nearby when they found out. It was horrible. They’re probably blaming themselves.”
Sarah frowned. “Why would they do that?”
“That’s what parents do. They’ll be wondering if there was anything they did wrong.”
The thought of Courtney’s parents blaming themselves for this was unfair. It wasn’t their fault, it was ours. Saying the truth out loud seemed nearly impossible, but I felt I had to. “The room in our house grants wishes. Sarah wished for Courtney to come back and he did. Then she wished for him to get better and his wounds vanished. Every time we make a wish, it comes true, but there are consequences. We have to pay the room for our debts.”
Dad tutted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Martin.”
“I’m not. We’ve all seen the room. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s evil.”
“There’s no such thing as evil, Martin.”
“Yes, there is,” said Sarah. “The room took Courtney from me.”
“There’s no room, kids. It’s something we imagined, or… Christ, I don’t know. We just need to think clearly. Fantasies aren’t going to make anything better.”
“The room grants wishes,” I said again, defiantly. “Sarah, you believe me, don’t you?”
She looked at me, her usually green eyes now washed out and grey. “I don’t know.”
Dad shook his head and started laughing. “You know what, Martin? It would be great if wishes came true. It’s about time this family had a bit of luck. Hey, guess what I wish for?”
“Dad, don’t!”
“I wish this family had a hundred thousand pounds. Come on! I wish to have lots of money, so where is it?”
I groaned. Even Sarah seemed dismayed.
The light bulb overhead flickered.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “You idiot!”
Dad flinched, shocked by my rudeness. “Martin!”
I stood and pointed at him. “No, you think you’re being funny, but this isn’t a joke. Courtney’s dead because of us – because of the wishes we made. If I hadn’t wanted a Big Mac he might still be here. If Sarah hadn’t wished for…”
Sarah looked at me, but she didn’t argue. She looked weak, broken, and even skinnier than usual. I hadn’t seen her eat anything in the last two days, besides half a sausage. Maybe she wasn’t coping after all.
“I’ve had enough of this,” said Dad. “What has happened to this family? You’ve all gone mad.”
“You’re the only one who’s mad,” I said.
Mum exhaled loudly. “Martin, please calm down. You’re getting carried away.”
“No, I’m not. For once, I’m not getting carried away at all. Dad just made a wish and we’re going to have to pay for it.”
Dad stepped towards me. I didn’t know his intentions, so I backed away. Charlie had never hit me before, but I supposed there was always a first time. Strangely, a memory of my real dad – Keith – popped into my head that made me shiver. I had spilled juice on his cigarettes so he was spanking me.
I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time.
Dad grabbed me and pulled me into a great big hug. “It’ll be okay, Martin. I won’t let anything happen to this family, I promise. There’s no such thing as wishes or evil or demon rooms. What we’re dealing with here is a tragedy, and it’s making things hard to understand. Can I tell you something my father told me when I was
your age?”
I was trapped in his strong arms, so I couldn’t exactly argue. I managed a shrug.
“Okay, this is something he told me when I lost my Aunt Moti. He said that grief is an ocean and family is a boat. Do you understand what that means?”
“That if we stick together, we’ll be okay?”
He eased back so he could smile at me. “Yes, and eventually we’ll reach the shore, where we can look back upon the ocean without fear; but if we step away from our family, we will drown in the ocean. We will drown in our grief.”
“I want to go home,” said Sarah.
I gawped at her. “You want to go back home? What about—”
“I just want to go home.”
I shook my head. “We should never go back. We should never—”
“Martin,” Dad interrupted, “we have to go home eventually. We can’t live on the streets, and if I don’t go to work tomorrow I’ll get fired. We need to do everything we can to get back to our normal lives.”
“I can’t go back, Dad. I can’t be normal after this.”
He hugged me again. “I’m only asking you to try. We stick together and nothing can hurt us.”
I nodded. Going home was the worst thing I could think of, but it also felt like the only thing. Like Dad said, where else could we go? It wasn’t as if bad things weren’t happening to us outside of the house. My life no longer seemed my own and things would happen whether I liked it or not.
Dad gathered Mum to her feet and held her by the hand. Sarah stood and started shuffling like a zombie. I walked beside her, bumping her now and then to keep her heading in the right direction. We stopped outside the hospital to pay for our parking, which made Dad hiss when it ate an entire ten-pound note. We headed for the car.
As I thought, it was past dinnertime, almost seven o’clock. I wanted to eat before going home, but when I considered broaching the subject, I decided I didn’t want to cost Dad any more money. Hunger was something I would just have to deal with. At least it would give me nothing to throw up if I got sick again.
We walked up the hill in silence, heading for where we parked. Mum nestled her head into Dad, which cheered me up a little. Maybe we would get through this eventually.
“Machende!” We all stopped as Dad lifted his leg and looked down at the ground.
Mum frowned. “What’s wrong, Charlie?”
“I stepped in chewing gum. Ah, never mind, what does it even matter? Just hold on a sec.” He placed a hand on Mum’s shoulder and reached down towards his shoe. As well as gum, there was a scrap of paper stuck to his sole. When he pulled it free, the pink gum stretched like intestines and made me grimace.
“Gross,” said Sarah.
Dad pulled the scrap of paper free and examined it. It was actually a piece of colourful card with pictures of fruit all over it and gold lettering. I turned my head to read what it said.
JUNGLE CASH BONANZA.
“It’s a scratch card,” said Dad. “Why anyone wastes money on these things, I don’t kn…”
My stomach told me something was wrong, and Dad’s strange expression confirmed it. “What is it, Dad?”
“It’s… It’s a winner. Three bananas in a row. The jackpot.”
For the first time in days, my mum seemed energetic and alive. “How much is it for?”
Dad moved the scratch card closer to his face, his eyes flicking left and right. The colour drained from his cheeks as he looked up at Mum. “A hundred grand.”
Mum leaned to one side, and at first I thought she had a crick in her neck, but then she kept on going. Dad caught her just in time. “Whoa there! Do you need to sit down?”
“I can’t… I can’t believe it. Is it real?”
Dad kept her on her feet. “I don’t know, so let’s not get excited. Knowing our luck, it’s somebody’s idea of a practical joke.”
“It’s not a joke, Dad.” I stood in front of him, in disbelief at his stupidity. Did he not see what this was? “You wished for a hundred thousand pounds and here it is, but I already told you it doesn’t come for free. You don’t know what you’ve done.”
Dad looked at me and the smile wiped from his face. I think he finally understood the trouble we were in.
18
Daylight was waning by the time we got back to our house. The last time we’d been there, we had been in such a rush that we’d left the front door unlocked and half the lights on.
“It’s lucky we didn’t get burgled,” said Dad, shaking his head in despair. “If Diane had known, she’d have nicked all the change from under our sofa cushions.”
We all chuckled.
“Don’t be horrible,” said Mum. “She’s had a hard life.”
“Welcome to the club, Sharon,” said Dad, but then he seemed to realise he was being grumpy. “Maybe you should go see her later.”
I moved into the hallway and glanced up the stairs. I couldn’t believe that we weren’t talking about the only thing that mattered. “Are we going to see if it’s still up there or what? We have to know.”
Dad sighed. “I suppose we won’t be able to get on until we do.”
“I don’t want to go up there,” said Sarah. “I’ll be in the living room. Just let me know.”
I was disappointed she wouldn’t be with us when we checked, but I was even more upset when Mum said she wasn’t going either.
Dad patted me on the back. “Looks like it’s just us men. You ready?”
I nodded. As terrifying as things were, I was eager to get upstairs and see if the door was still there. It was an evil thing, yes, but I felt like its main power lay in the fact that we didn’t understand it. Maybe if we took our time and stood our ground, we would learn what it was.
And how to make it go away.
Dad positioned me behind him on the stairs and we headed up. Every step creaked. My bladder fizzed. My stomach sloshed. There was something invisible in the air. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it.
Dad stepped onto the landing first. I tried to see around him but couldn’t. “Is it there?” I asked. “Is it?”
He turned to me and smiled. “No. There’s nothing here.”
I stepped around him and saw the blank wall at the end of the landing. The door was gone, but I wasn’t willing to trust my eyes.
“What are you doing, Martin?”
“I need to see. I need to know it’s really not here.”
Dad’s belief in the room was less than mine, but I heard the nervousness in his voice. “Be careful.”
“You want us to get back to normal, right? Then I need to know for sure.” I moved slowly, like the way a hunter most probably approached a deer. The door might have been hiding, playing games. It had disappeared before, and it had come back. I reached out a hand and I could swear I felt something. The splinter in my thumb throbbed, the tips of my fingers tingled, but when I pressed my hand against the wall everything felt normal. Nothing but smooth old paint. “It’s really not here,” I said. “Do you think it’ll come back?”
“No,” said Dad, so quickly that he couldn’t have given it any thought. “Everything is fine now, I promise.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can. Things are going to get better now, okay?”
“What are you going to do with the scratch card?” I asked.
“I don’t know. If it’s real, then I think we have to cash it in. It’s a hundred thousand pounds, Martin. We can’t ignore money like that.”
“Maybe you’re right, but—”
Our bathroom toilet flushed.
Dad and I looked at each other, our eyebrows raised curiously. Sarah and Mum were downstairs, so who the heck was in our bathroom? Dad put his finger against his lips and moved to the side of the bathroom door. I moved down the landing, out of direct sight.
The bathroom door opened. Someone stepped out. Dad grabbed the intruder by the scruff of the neck and swung them out onto the landing. He raised his fist to throw a punch, but sto
pped himself. “Mike? What on earth are you doing here?”
Mike held his hands up, shielding his face. “Whoa! Don’t hurt me.”
I stood in front of my best friend, glad to see him but also shocked. “What are you doing here, mate?”
Mike was taller than me, and better looking too. His black hair formed curtains either side of his thick eyebrows that the girls in our year seemed to love. He was popular and cool, but I was his best mate, which meant I was popular and cool too. Seeing him now made me feel like everything might be okay. It still didn’t explain what he was doing in our house though.
Mike shrugged. “I ain’t seen you since last week, geeza. I came by to see if you were okay, but no one answered. Door was unlocked, so thought I’d come check if you were sleeping off a dodgy belly or summin’. You weren’t here though, so I was about to go, but nature called. I didn’t mean to break in or nuffin’.”
Dad patted Mike on the arm. “I didn’t mean to give you a scare, Mike. You’re always welcome here, but I’m not sure Martin wants company right now. It’s been a difficult few days.”
“Oh, right. Fair enough.”
It was true, of course, but I couldn’t deny how much better I felt seeing my friend. “Actually, Dad. I’d really like it if Mike could hang out for a bit.”
Dad gave me a look, and I knew he was warning me not to tell Mike about things he wouldn’t understand. I gave a tiny nod, letting him know I understood. The last thing I intended was to make my best friend think I was crazy.
Dad sighed. “It’s getting late. I’ll fix you something to eat, but then Mike will have to go home.”
I nodded and led Mike into my room. He took up his usual position on the beanbag that I kept under my window. I sat on my bed crossed-legged.
“Come on then, mate, what’s going on? Where’ve you been?”
My mouth opened but no sound came out. Where should I start? What could I tell him? And what must I never tell him?
“A lot’s happened,” I said simply, and then it all came spilling out. “Sarah’s boyfriend was in an accident and he died at the hospital today.”
The Room Upstairs: A Novel Page 10
