Watchers

by Philip Caveney

  Will stared at the computer screen.

  Ariel.

  Hadn’t Ari said that the name he went by was a shortened version of his real name? Could it be . . . could it possibly be that Ari was Ariel, one of the followers of Lucifer? If that was the case, that would make him evil, wouldn’t it? Wasn’t Lucifer just another name for the devil? And yet, the man he had met hadn’t seemed to mean him any harm, he’d wanted to help. At least, that was the impression he gave.

  Will tried to scroll further down the web page to read what came next and the screen suddenly went blank. An icon helpfully informed him that Internet Explorer had quit unexpectedly and it was all he could do to keep from picking up the computer and throwing it at the nearest wall. He was going to have to find the money for that broadband connection, one way or another.

  He sat there for a moment, looking at the blank screen.

  ‘This is barmy,’ he said aloud. And it was. What was he thinking of? Ok, he’d met some head-the-ball who had managed to convince him that he was something other than human, but maybe Will was just letting his imagination run away with him. Maybe the old guy had escaped from a nut house or something.

  But the wings, said a voice in his head. You saw them.

  And he had to admit, he couldn’t find a rational answer to that one. Because they weren’t the kind of thing you might buy in a fancy dress shop, the ones you attached with a couple of loops of elastic. They were real. They were growing out of his bloody shoulder blades.

  Will grimaced. He abandoned the idea of trawling the internet and quickly logged off. He went out of the room, leaving the sad old computer clicking and buzzing away to itself. He went to the foot of the stairs and listened for a while. No sound from up there. Feeling decidedly guilty, he went up and knocked softly on his Mum’s bedroom door.

  There was a long silence. Then a voice said, ‘Come in.’

  He opened the door but stayed where he was in the doorway, looking in at her. She was lying on the bed, fully dressed, clutching a bunch of soggy tissues in her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to get at you.’

  ‘I know. Anyway, you’re right. I am drinking too much. I know I am. But it helps, you know?’ She turned, sat up and moved to one side of the bed. She patted the empty place on the mattress beside her. ‘Come and sit here for a while. We need to talk.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘There’s some homework I should be getting on with,’ he said.

  She gave him a rueful smile.

  ‘That’s a first,’ she said. ‘My son, eager to do his homework.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I really should make a start on it,’ he insisted. ‘It’s an important project.’

  ‘Will, I’m just asking you to sit here and talk for a bit. Like we used to. I’m not asking you to try and take your dad’s place.’

  ‘I know that,’ he said. But he made no move to enter the room.

  ‘What do you miss most about him?’ she asked him.

  ‘The way he made us laugh,’ said Will, without hesitation. ‘All the stupid jokes and the funny voices . . . and he used to make up those daft songs all the time.’ He smiled. ‘We used to slag him off about them, but . . . they did make me laugh and I really miss all that.’

  Mum smiled, nodded.

  ‘Yes, I miss that too. You know, he used to say that I made all the decisions around the house and I suppose that’s true. But it was having him there that made it easy to make the decisions. These days, I can’t seem to make one to save my life. It takes me fifteen minutes to decide what I’m going to wear for the day.’ Fresh tears welled in her eyes. ‘Oh, Will, I miss him so much!’

  ‘Dad wants me to help you,’ said Will, impulsively. Mum stared at him.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she said.

  ‘I mean . . . umm . . . I imagine that he would want me to help you. You know, around the house and that.’

  ‘Well, you do,’ she said. ‘All the time. I know it’s not been easy for you and that I’m not much use but − I’m trying to change, I really am. And look, about the broadband thing. I’ll find a way to afford it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, it’s no big deal.’ He clapped his hands together, because he could feel sorrow plucking at him with invisible fingers and he didn’t want to end up losing it, not in front of Mum. Somebody had to stay strong and nobody else seemed to be volunteering for the job. ‘Right,’ he said, a little too loudly. ‘So, what about this food, eh? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’

  Mum nodded.

  ‘I could eat something,’ she admitted. ‘Give me a minute and . . .’

  No, it’s ok,’ he said. ‘I know how to make egg and chips. I’ll give you a shout when it’s ready.’

  ‘Will, I . . .’

  But he turned and hurried downstairs before she could finish.

  Back in the kitchen, he resumed peeling those blessed spuds. The half-skinned potato in his hand blurred and his shoulders started moving up and down as though they had a life of their own, but his sobs weren’t loud enough to be heard upstairs.

  Spot heard them though. He got up from his bed in the hall and came into the kitchen. He stood there looking up at Will, wagging his stumpy tail, clearly wondering about the possibility of another walk.

  ‘No way,’ Will told him. ‘You’ve had your outing today. Tomorrow. We’ll have another walk tomorrow.’

  And we’ll ask some questions, he thought to himself. If we can find Ari.

  FIVE

  Sunday morning dawned grey and somewhat foggy and Mum clearly found it suspicious when Will announced, straight after breakfast, that he was taking Spot out for another walk.

  ‘What’s with all this walking?’ she asked him. ‘You never showed much interest before.’

  ‘Dad used to take him out every day,’ said Will. ‘And besides, don’t you think he’s getting a bit fat?’

  Spot looked up at him adoringly, wagging his tail, unaware that he was being maligned. Will fetched the lead and the two of them set off. He made his way straight off the estate and along the main road to the bridge.

  This is stupid, thought Will, as he descended the stone steps to the riverbank. How am I supposed to find him? He could be anywhere.

  But in the end, it was easier than he might have expected. As he walked slowly back to the scene of the previous day’s encounter, he spotted Ari’s distinctive hunched figure sitting on the roof of the old pillbox. He was smoking one of his hand-rolled cigarettes. As Will drew close, the angel, if that was what he was, nodded down at him and smiled.

  ‘All right?’ he said.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Will.

  ‘Waiting for you,’ said Ari. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘But you didn’t know I was coming.’

  ‘Sure I did.’

  Will stared up at him.

  ‘But . . . how?’

  ‘It’s my job to know stuff,’ said Ari. ‘I know that you had scrambled egg for breakfast. With marmite soldiers. Very nice. Great favourite of mine, actually. I know that you cried yesterday while you were peeling spuds. And I know that you miss your dad so much it hurts.’ He poked himself in the side. ‘Right there,’ he added. There was a long silence while they waited, looking at each other. Then, ‘Go on, then,’ said Ari.

  ‘What?’ muttered Will.

  ‘Ask the question. I know you want to.’

  Will scowled. ‘I feel stupid,’ he said.

  ‘I expect you’ll survive. Ask it anyway.’

  Will realised it needed to be asked and he couldn’t put if off any longer.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Are you . . . this sounds so stupid, but . . . well . . . are you an angel?’

  Ari winced and made a face.

  ‘Technically, yes, he said. But it’s not what I call myself. Sounds a bit . . . pompous, don’t you think?’

  ‘And is your real name . . . Ariel?’

  ‘Very good.’ Ari smi
led, clearly impressed. ‘The internet, I suppose.’

  Will nodded.

  ‘I Googled you,’ he said.

  Ari sighed. ‘That blessed world wide web has got a lot to answer for. Once upon a time there was a little bit of mystery in the world. Now, thanks to that, everyone’s an expert on everything. But, yes, you’ve got it in one. So you know a little bit about us now. That makes things easier.’

  Will frowned.

  ‘There are others?’

  ‘Of course. You didn’t think I was down here by myself, did you?’ Ari shuffled to the edge of the pillbox and pushed himself off. He dropped down beside Will with a thud. Will couldn’t quite stop himself from taking a cautious step backwards.

  ‘Relax,’ said Ari. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. If I’d wanted to do that, I could have done it yesterday, couldn’t I?’

  Will thought about it for a moment.

  ‘I suppose so,’ he admitted.

  ‘Come on then, I’ll take you to meet my people.’ Ari turned and began to walk downriver from the bridge. Will fell reluctantly into step beside him, and Spot trotted obediently alongside.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to meet them,’ said Will.

  ‘Course you do,’ said Ari, a little impatiently. ‘Otherwise, how are we going to get your dad sorted out? You do want to sort him out, don’t you?’

  Will shrugged.

  ‘I suppose so. Where is he exactly? I mean, is he in heaven or . . . or the other place?’

  ‘He’s not in either of them, yet. He’s somewhere in between and he isn’t going to get where he needs to go until he’s settled down a bit. He’s what we call a restless spirit and it’s his concern for you and your mum that’s making him like that.’

  ‘Well, can’t you just tell him that I’m ok and that there’s nothing for him to worry about?’

  Ari gave him a look.

  ‘I suppose I could,’ he said. ‘But the fact is, that’s not true. You don’t want me to lie to him, do you?’

  ‘I don’t suppose so,’ muttered Will. They walked along in silence for a while. Ari was veering away from the riverbank now and following a narrow dirt track that led across the humps and hollows of the fields. Will went along with him. In the near distance he could see the silhouettes of naked trees against the skyline and the dark shapes of rooks, flapping around the branches, but for the moment they were too far away for him to hear. He looked at Ari.

  ‘So, on this website I looked at,’ he said. ‘It was talking about . . .’

  Ari made a sound of disgust. ‘It was probably talking utter crap,’ he said. ‘The problem with the internet is that everybody takes what it says as gospel. I mean, yes, it’s a wonderful communication tool but it’s also an excuse for every headbanger on the planet to talk complete drivel.’

  ‘But this didn’t seem like drivel,’ argued Will. ‘A lot of it was from the Bible. You’re not saying the Bible’s drivel, are you?’

  Ari looked a bit sheepish. ‘I’m not saying anything. In fact, if you must ask questions, I’d rather you talked to Reg.’

  ‘Reg?’ Will laughed at that, he couldn’t help himself. ‘What kind of a name is that for an angel?’

  Ari winced again and looked decidedly huffy.

  ‘Oh, so you’re the big expert on our names now, are you? If you must know, it’s short for Regulus. And believe me, if anybody can explain this stuff to a son of Adam, he’s the one. He can speak in tongues.’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘Cork it, kid. We’re nearly there anyway. Then we can sit down with a brew and you can ask as many questions as you like.’

  The trail ran into a hedge but there was a narrow gap they could squeeze through. The field on the far side rose in a gentle ridge and when they crested it, they were looking down into a natural hollow at an encampment; several scruffy-looking motor caravans, cars and even an old-fashioned ambulance, all parked in a ragged line. Beyond them the ground rose to another high hedge bordering a narrow lane, and the bare trees rose on the far side of it, offering quite a bit of cover. There was a five bar gate further down the field and rutted ground showed where the vehicles must have entered the field.

  ‘This is where you live?’ asked Will.

  ‘At the moment,’ admitted Ari. ‘It’s not much but then, we can’t afford to be fussy. Oh, and listen, my people don’t like to be referred to by the A-word, ok? We call ourselves Watchers. Please try to remember that.’ He led the way down the hillside. As they drew nearer, Will could see there were quite a few people sitting around a smoky fire, over which a big, black cauldron was suspended.

  ‘Well, at least somebody’s got a brew on,’ said Ari. ‘Wonders will never cease.’

  As they drew nearer, Will could feel the eyes of the others upon him and he began to understand why these people referred to themselves as Watchers. Everyone was just staring at him, making no attempt to hide their curiosity. They were a scruffy-looking bunch to be sure, most of them sporting big coats of one kind or another, all of the men with hunched and misshapen shoulders just like Ari. There were women too, who didn’t seem to be hampered in the same way, all except for one young woman who was sitting on a rusty oilcan in front of the fire. Her hair was dyed shocking pink and she was wearing a huge army greatcoat, complete with a collection of rusty old medals. She, too, was studying Will with interest.

  ‘So this is him, is it?’ she said, as Will and Ari reached the group. ‘You’re welcome, son of Adam.’

  ‘My name’s Will,’ he told them, a little defensively. ‘And my dad’s name was Geoff, not Adam.’

  The young woman and Ari exchanged looks of amusement. ‘Will. That’s a nice name,’ said the woman. She gestured to an empty packing case. ‘Please, sit with us and have some tea. I’m Amy.’

  Will glared at her.

  ‘I didn’t know you could get girl a-’ He broke off and glanced apologetically at Ari. ‘Girl Watchers,’ he corrected himself.

  Ari gave Will a despairing look.

  ‘Oh, didn’t mention that on your precious website, then?’ he sneered. ‘Well, for your information, the female of the species is somewhat rare, which is why most of us take our wives amongst you lot. However, some of us don’t believe in taking second best, which is why I myself have stayed single . . .’ He threw a sly look at Amy. ‘ . . . in order to be ready when a certain person thinks it’s finally time to take a husband.’

  Amy gave him a mocking look. ‘In your dreams,’ she said. She smiled at Will and he felt a weird stirring sensation in the pit of his stomach.

  ‘A word of warning, lad,’ said Ari. ‘Amy’s an enchantress. Half the time she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Here, take the weight off.’ Will took a seat on the packing case and Spot positioned himself between Will’s legs. He sat there, looking anxiously around the circle of faces that surrounded him.

  Ari took a seat on the case and accepted two battered tin mugs from Amy, one of which he handed to Will. Will looked at it doubtfully. There were a couple of bits of unidentified green stuff floating on the brownish grey surface of the liquid, but he thought he should be polite and at least sip at it. It was hot and wet but had a strange, musty flavour.

  ‘What is this?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s nettle tea,’ said Amy. ‘Very sustaining.’

  Will tried hard not to let his face register disgust. He wondered if you could sting your mouth on it.

  Now Ari went around the circle, pointing out people and introducing them. ‘This is Reg, who I was telling you about earlier,’ he said, indicating a tall, thin, fellow with a pale face and sly, blue eyes. Reg had a distinctive scar that ran from the corner of his left eye and down his cheek to the side of his mouth. ‘He’ll do his best to answer your questions,’ said Ari.

  He gestured to a big, muscular fellow with a tangle of black hair and thick dark eyebrows that met above the bridge of his nose. ‘This is Marc or Marcosian, if you want to be more formal. He’s handy with his fists, but he’
s not the sharpest tool in the woodshed.’

  Marc gave Ari a challenging look.

  ‘Watch it,’ he said. ‘I’m on a short fuse today.’

  ‘You’re always on a short fuse,’ Ari told him. Now he pointed to a short, tubby little man with protruding teeth and a large head that was bald on top, but edged by clusters of unruly red hair. He was reading what looked like a kid’s comic. ‘That’s Wormy,’ he said.

  The little man said, ‘My real name’s Wormwood, but people here are so lazy, they shorten everyone’s name and that’s what I ended up with!’ He had a droning little voice that made him seem somehow comical.

  ‘We did offer to call you Maggot instead,’ said Ari. ‘But you weren’t keen on that either.’

  ‘Can you blame me?’ snarled Wormy and went back to his comic.

  Ari continued introducing more of the encampment, but the rooks on the other side of the field had started making a commotion and Will stopped registering the names. After a while, Ari waved his hands, as if to dismiss the remaining Watchers.

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s not important for you to know who everyone is just yet. For the moment, you’ve got questions. And Reg there is probably the best person to give you the answers.’

  Ari pulled out his Golden Virginia tin, a sure sign that he felt he’d said enough for the time being; so Will turned his attention to the man called Reg, who was sitting on the other side of the fire, regarding Will in silence. Now it had come to it, Will found himself unsure of where to start and the noise of the rooks was still putting him off. Reg seemed to become aware of it. He turned to look towards the trees and then said, in a loud voice, ‘Quiet, please!’

  As if by magic, the birds fell silent.

  SIX

  Will stared up at the trees. The rooks were still roosting there in their hundreds and there was the dull flapping sound of their wings, but not a single caw rent the air. And suddenly he had his first question.

  ‘How did you do that?’ he asked.