Spanky

by Christopher Fowler

He put his arm around my shoulder and gave a smirk. ‘Then you’ll have to handle both of them by yourself.’

  ‘Forget it, I’m too tired. Despite what you may think, I wasn’t cut out to be a sexual athlete. It’s been fun, but I’m ready to go home now.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right. I’ll walk with you.’

  We left the club and took a slow stroll along the Strand. Above us, the illuminated buildings threw dingy yellow light on to the clouds.

  ‘It’s a pity you can’t patent yourself,’ I said. ‘The world would be an easier place if everyone had someone like you to help them.’

  ‘But they already do, in a way—look out.’

  Ahead of us a pair of drunk-looking tattooed skinheads were tacking along the pavement, swinging beer bottles and shouting at the buildings. With a sick drop in my stomach, I knew they were going to zero in on me. I was still wearing the tuxedo and had been holding a conversation with the air, which I was sure made me either a ‘rich bastard’ or a ‘poof’.

  ‘Oi, talking to yourself, are you?’ shouted one. ‘Fucking poof!’

  He pushed me in the chest with his bottle. ‘D’you hear what I said?’

  As the other one joined him in haranguing me, Spanky tapped my shoulder. ‘You acquitted yourself admirably in smart society tonight, Martyn. But you also need to be a fighter. Let’s see how you deal with this.’

  The familiar tingle engulfed me, this time from the back of my neck, where Spanky set his hand.

  I knocked the skinhead’s arm away with a ferocity that set us all on edge. But when I span around, screamed loudly and unleashed a lethal flying kick that connected with his chin to send him sprawling, even my own jaw fell open. The other one lumbered after me and threw a hopeless punch, only to receive a series of fast shattering blows to the stomach before my powerful ninja kick rocketed him over on to his back. I lowered my leg and looked at the two flattened figures lying half in the gutter.

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Martyn Ross, part Noel Coward, part Casanova, part Shinobi warrior. There’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it.’

  ‘What shall we do about those two?’ I asked, making an experimental chop at the air. My antagonists were both out cold. Cars were skirting around them.

  ‘Leave them where they are. You can’t be Florence Nightingale as well.’

  As we walked away, I motormouthed on at Spanky, who had doubtless heard it all before. ‘Did you see that punch? Suddenly my hands were lethal! Fists of Steel, wasn’t that a Bruce Lee movie? I want to sing like you did, too, can I do that? I mean, I sing in the shower, I have a good voice, but getting up in front of everyone . . .’

  So easy for him. So damned easy.

  Chapter 14

  Accommodation

  My first encounter with Max’s son took place a week later. The bank had agreed to finance the fitting of two new branches based in property owned by Neville Syms. Despite my terrific performance on the shop floor, it had been agreed that Paul would help to decide store policy with his father, and would search for an advertising agency to handle the newly enlarged Thanet account. I could hardly be annoyed by the boy’s appointment in my place. After all, I had not exactly shown much promise prior to my meeting with Spanky. Max had been looking for someone he could trust; who better than his own son?

  Paul had no previous experience of the retail trade. Most recently, he’d been selling time for Westward Television. He was physically imposing, tall and heavy set, with a protruding brow and a rugby player’s neck. I’d assumed that I would take an instant dislike to him, but was surprised to find him genial company in a rather booming, hearty way.

  My position at the store was greatly improved, but the limits of my new responsibilities were clearly defined. I doubted there could be much advancement beyond a certain point. And arrangements had to be made to accommodate Darryl, should he decide to return to work after his eye had healed.

  Ultimately, I was still just selling furniture. Every decision I took had to be approved by Max. It had been foolish to expect that my position would alter overnight, even though everyone was commenting on my personal transformation.

  And I was changing. I had begun to command a sense of respect from those around me. People who had never noticed me before were starting to strike up conversations. I realized that if this went on, I would actually start to win friends.

  Sarah Brannigan was never less than friendly, but never more. She came in twice a week to check through the orders with me. She was helpful, pleasant and unselfconsciously sexy. At the end of our meetings she would smile pleasantly and offer me the cool tapered fingers of her hand to shake. It seemed pointless asking her for a date because she was still seeing Roger the opera buff, and gave no indication of being remotely interested in anyone else. But I preferred to wait for someone like her than to survive on a series of no-strings sexual encounters. I knew I could do that now, and, like a kid with a new toy, was already tiring of the ability. Spanky had said that there was plenty of time later for romance. He was probably right, but meanwhile I wanted someone to share things with. What was the point of popularity if you were still alone?

  One afternoon Spanky offered to change Sarah’s attitude toward me and I exploded, warning him that I would never expect a woman to do something against her will. We argued and he took his leave, clearly upset that his protégé had turned on him. He did not reappear for six days.

  During that time, I was able to manage without total reliance on Spanky’s help. My self-confidence was growing in leaps and bounds.

  The pattern of my social life had started to mutate. On the night of the theatre awards I had exchanged addresses with some of the actors at my table, swapping their prestigious embossed cards with my battered furniture store slips. One of the actors had since invited me to a dinner party, and another had called to suggest getting together for lunch. Even Amanda rang for a rematch, although that didn’t seem to be such a good idea. Still, I missed my daemonic sparring partner.

  When Spanky finally returned, strolling past me in the street as I was heading home towards the railway station, he seemed to have forgotten about our argument and was in high spirits. For reasons that he did not deem worthy of explanation, he was dressed in the crisp white military uniform and peaked cap of a US naval officer.

  ‘I just wondered if you wanted to go and do something tonight,’ he suggested casually, keeping pace alongside me.

  ‘I thought you’d want to take things easy after your ocean voyage.’

  ‘Do I detect the bitter zest of sarcasm?’ Spanky asked the pale sky. ‘Is the boy unhappy with his lot? Is there no pleasing him?’

  ‘I’m pleased. I’m worried about my parents. I want to know what’s happening to them. I’m worried about what’s happening to me. In case you haven’t noticed it, I’m changing so fast I can barely recognize myself.’

  ‘I see.’

  Spanky removed his cap and turned it over in his hands, thinking. ‘We’d better talk about this. Come through here.’

  He held open a small side-door to the railway station, and we climbed a long flight of concrete stairs that eventually led to the roof. Ahead lay a narrow walkway that passed across the platform canopy, fifty feet above the station forecourt.

  ‘Follow me,’ Spanky called back. ‘You won’t fall.’

  I took his lead, and soon we were sitting on the edge of the great steel and glass roof, dangling our legs over the curving sepia fan of railway lines that extended beneath us.

  ‘You’ve reached this point a lot earlier than I had expected,’ said Spanky, looking down through his legs at the blue snakes of waiting trains. ‘Rapid metamorphosis always has its drawbacks. Self-doubt, discomfort with your new outgoing personality, moral confusion; the side effects are well-documented. Most of the people I help experience difficulty at some point. I just didn’t think you’d have an attack until after you’d seen your parents, or moved into your new apartment.’

  �
��What do you mean, my new apartment?’

  ‘Obviously, once you take Paul’s place in the company and establish friendships in your changing social circle, you won’t want to share a flat with someone like Zack anymore. He’s a nice enough guy but he’s a loser, and there won’t be any room in your new life for losers. You’ll never be able to have one of your nice new lady friends over for drinks if you stay there.’

  ‘Do you have an agenda for all of this?’

  ‘I work to a fixed timetable, Martyn. There’s a strict schedule of events in operation here. So far you’re right on time and on target.’

  ‘What are you going to do with Paul? Arrange a fatal accident?’ If I was to succeed, it wouldn’t be at someone else’s expense.

  ‘Don’t be melodramatic. He’ll move of his own accord, I promise you.’

  ‘Tell me something,’ I demanded. ‘Why does my transformation have to be accomplished within a specified time-frame? Have you already got someone else booked in?’

  ‘Martyn, it’s already September. I like to spend the winter somewhere warm. I have less than two months to finish remodelling your psychosocial profile. Then I’ll bid you a fond farewell and head off to fabularize another wretched existence.’

  We sat in silence for a while. It seemed so strange, watching my old life retreat from me, and yet it felt right somehow, as though I was finally being allowed to come into my own. If I had any doubts then, I certainly didn’t stop to analyse them. I watched Spanky from the corner of my eye, happily swinging his legs from the roof. The line of his back, the symmetry of his fingernails, everything about him was so perfect that he looked like he’d been designed on a computer.

  The daemon looked across at me with one eye screwed up against the dying sun.

  ‘I’ve found an apartment I think you’ll like. Would you like to see it?’

  ‘Sure, why not?’

  Spanky rose and dusted the soot from his white marine trousers. We made our way back across the roof, headed down into the street and hailed a taxi. The apartment building we pulled up in front of had taken its radical design from the Memphis school of architecture, and was located in a newly fashionable part of Bow. It sported curved steel balconies and a rolling wall of blue glass bricks. Inside, there was a split level lounge. The materials were fashioned in cool greys and greens with pale wood floors. Everything else was diamond white.

  ‘It’s incredible,’ I agreed, my voice echoing in the empty bleached chamber, ‘but I couldn’t afford something like this. I mean, I’m getting a raise but—’

  ‘It’s already paid for,’ said Spanky, crossing to the far wall and switching on a pair of curved blue neon tubes. Luminous aqua stripes bisected the sharp planes of his face.

  ‘I did the deal a couple of days ago. I signed the lease in your name, so you’re free to move in whenever you like. I knew you’d love it. My taste is your taste, remember? Think of the place as my gift to you for being such a fast learner, and for making my job easier.’

  He walked over to a chromium fifties style refrigerator built beside the wet bar, removed an iced bottle of champagne and produced a pair of crystal goblets. He also opened the bottle without touching it, which I thought was a pretty neat trick.

  I had grown up in a small terraced house with bay windows and a nettle-filled garden that hardly ever cleared the shadows. I was unused to so much light and space. As I stood in the centre of the vast semi-cylindrical room I felt a mixture of euphoria and agoraphobia.

  ‘You do like it, don’t you?’ Spanky asked innocently, sipping his champagne.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ I was shaking my head, dumbfounded. ‘But I haven’t earned the right to live here, no matter what you say.’

  ‘That depends on how much importance you attach to property. I’ve had clients who would rather live out of a suitcase and spend their lives travelling the world. I help them to do that, if it’s what makes them happy. If you don’t want to live here—’

  ‘No, no, this is perfect. I’ve always wanted to be right in the city.’

  ‘Am I to take it that you graciously accept the apartment, then?’

  ‘I certainly do,’ I replied, thrilled. I tried to imagine what the rent would be on a place like this. More than I’d ever be able to afford on my monthly cheque, that was for sure. Each room held new delights, things I’d only ever seen in style magazines. A black and white chromium and ceramic bathroom with heated flooring. A faux-marble bedroom with surreal orange uplighters and a gigantic deep green bed. The place was fully furnished and showed exquisite taste.

  I returned to the lounge, sat down on the blonde parquet floor and crossed my legs, watching as Spanky paced around following his private thoughts. I had spent the last few weeks in the company of someone who was not, strictly speaking, human, and now I could not imagine a life without him. How was it possible to like someone you didn’t remotely understand?

  ‘Men rarely understand women, but they still like them,’ Spanky cut in. ‘It’s harder for them to be friends, of course. Sex tends to get in the way.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s true.’

  ‘Of course it’s true. Why do so many middle-aged women find themselves alone in the city? Because men have stopped talking to them. Males hang on to their pubescent fantasies of child-women unless someone slaps them out of it. But who’s going to do that when the media worships nothing else?’ He gestured around the apartment. ‘You ask me about the morality of accepting these gifts. Against the broader picture of what’s going on in the world today, I’d say you were doing just fine. Most of the poor suckers out there will die with their childhood dreams unrealized.’

  ‘That’s kind of cruel.’

  ‘People always mistake clarity for cruelty.’

  I placed my glass on the floor before me. ‘What happened to you, Spanky? Where are the others like you?’

  I was puzzled. He’d told me how he had given up his spiritual form in exchange for the corporeality of a human, but he never spoke of his time on earth.

  He set the champagne bottle between us and joined me on the floor. ‘There are just four of us to service all mankind. Even with our powers we can’t make much of a difference. That must tell you something about the venal stupidity of the human race. The others walk the earth, but have not taken human shape. I wanted tangibility. A body. A linear existence. I chose to be reborn as a human. While my brothers still sought to impose change on the world using external spiritual force, I realized that the only real way to alter the future was by working from inside man. By taking him over and if necessary, bending him to my will.’

  Perhaps it was the steadiness of those emerald eyes on mine, but for the first time I felt a spark of madness burning within them. Spanky was holding something back from me. If he wasn’t exactly lying, he also wasn’t telling me the whole truth.

  I dismissed the idea. How could I, a mere mortal, expect to understand the workings of the cosmos? As it was, I always felt that Spanky spoke to me in simplified form, as if dealing with a dim child. His talk of good and evil auras had never rung true; why did he not reflect his biblical image as the acolyte of a vindictive, unforgiving and dangerous god?

  Perhaps if I had acted earlier upon my half-formed suspicions, everything might still have been all right.

  Chapter 15

  Suspicion

  On Sunday, I told Zack about the new apartment.

  ‘What do you mean, you’re moving out?’ he asked in amazement. ‘I thought you liked it here, man. I thought we had a rapport. I thought we’d like, bonded.’

  He’d been sitting on the floor all afternoon with his headphones on, smoking dope and trying to get an animated rabbit past a wall of spikes on his videogame console. Spanky had arranged for me to move into the apartment the following week. He had already collected the keys and shown me the paperwork, although he had refused to explain how the deal had been arranged, citing it simply as ‘all part of the magic’.

  ‘I’ve en
joyed sharing with you, Zack, but this offer is too good to turn down. I’ll miss the damp patch, though.’ Lately, tiny mushrooms had appeared in the corner of the ceiling. Zack’s reaction: ‘Wow.’

  ‘You know, you’re becoming a different guy, Martyn,’ he said suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at me. ‘You used to be so relaxed and easygoing. Just lately you’ve been really weird. First with the clothes, then the job. You never ask about Debbie anymore. It’s the daemon, isn’t it? He’s still hanging around, turning you into a breadhead.’

  ‘He’s opened my eyes, Zack. He’s making me realize what I’ve been missing, what I should have been doing all this time.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s fine if money’s your god. There are other things in life that are more important.’

  ‘Right. I can see you’re taking care of the important things.’

  ‘Look, fuck you, man. You don’t exist for me anymore.’

  He pulled his headphones back in place and began guiding the rabbit back through the trap-laden castle. I was pissed off. Zack had been happy to take my spare cash whenever it suited him, and now that he saw his dope money leaving he wanted nothing more to do with me.

  I pulled the phones from his ears.

  ‘It’s time for us to grow up, Zack,’ I said. ‘You can’t just sit here for the rest of your life. Everything’s moving on around us. There’s another generation right behind. All these books, these games,’ I gestured around the cluttered lounge, ‘they’re about things which aren’t real. Debbie is carrying your child and either she needs an abortion, which you’ll have to find the money for pretty damned soon, or you’ll have to face the responsibility of looking after both the mother and the baby. You have to get a job and get yourself organized. You’re not a kid anymore.’

  He threw the joystick and headphones away from him and sat hunched over, his head turned to one side.

  ‘Don’t talk about me, man. You’re the one who needs a fucking spirit guide to get you through the day.’

  ‘It wasn’t my doing. It just happened. I don’t understand how and I don’t know why.’