by Gary Fry
While his elder brother had gone to university and then into the city to make serious money, Brian had focused on the comparatively modest goal of becoming a writer. He’d sold a number of short stories to small markets, supplementing his Disability Living Allowance. And after the brothers’ parents had died in a car accident, he’d gone to live in a flat not too far from Ken’s family place.
It had taken Penny a while to get used to Brian. The man, now twenty-five, was very intense. Nevertheless, as he got on well with Eric, Ken and Penny’s six year-old son, she was determined to make the effort. Her husband was right: a reliable uncle might alleviate some of the stress she’d been experiencing, especially since she had no siblings of her own to help with childcare (and her parents spent half the year in their Spanish villa).
This was why she’d agreed to let her brother-in-law come on this weekend break to Whitby. Brian wrote horror fiction, and Penny realised that Whitby was featured in the novel Dracula. The trip would be good for them all; it would.
——
“You know, I think I know why I write. I think I write because it allows me to create a world under my complete control. I can conjure beings, entities, anything at all, and, and make them do my bidding. That nice person there, I could reach out to them through my inventions. They’re certainly as real as them—no, realer, if I’m being honest. To me, at any rate. To me. ”
Ken glanced at Brian in the rear-view mirror. Seated beside Eric, he looked almost like the child he’d once been: gangly, preoccupied, and so certain of his uncertainties. His head nodded like an insect’s, as if invisible antennae extended from his temples, which fl ed and smoothed over with so much activity inside. As usual, Ken simultaneously felt compassion for and exasperated by his younger brother.
“We’re going to reach the B’n’B any minute, mate, ” Ken said as he navigated a busy road on which tourists marched together like ants. “Perhaps once you get to your room, you can write down those ideas in your notebook. ”
“No, we’re going to the beach, ” Eric said, his young voice heartbreakingly fragile. “Brian said he’d take me while you two kiss ‘n’ cuddle ‘n’ that. ”
In the passenger seat, Penny looked aghast, and Ken knew what she was thinking: that Brian shouldn’t be telling their son such things at that age. But Ken had other concerns. However much he trusted his brother these days, he didn’t want him teaching Eric how to dig in sand for crabs or worse than that, the way Brian had done obsessively so many years ago.
Any further thoughts were precluded, however, when Ken noticed the sign for the hotel. He made an immediate plea for silence while he concentrated on parking.
The hotel was located on the West Cliff, overlooking the famous abbey and the sea. After climbing out and removing cases from the boot (Brian had only a folder full of papers; apparently he’d pushed a change of socks into the pockets of his plastic cagoule), they checked in and were taken upstairs to their rooms.
Ken and Penny’s had great views of the town, while Brian’s looked on to a cluster of featureless buildings. He must understand that he was a guest and that it was natural for the family to take the larger accommodation on this floor. In the main room was a double bed, and Eric’s single was located in a smaller one served by a connecting door. It was warm today, despite being out of season, and Penny had to lift the sash window to let in a breeze laden with seaside odours and the squall of seagulls.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Penny said, glancing first at Ken and then at her son.
“I can think of worse places, ” Ken replied, smirking to reveal his sarcasm.
“I want to go to the beach!” Eric told them.
“It’s nearly teatime, stupid, ” Penny replied with playful discipline. “Surely we should eat first. ”
“But Uncle Brian said he’d take me!”
“Yeah, come on, Pen’. I mean, I have an appetite after that drive, but it can, well, wait, if you know what I mean. ”
“Daddy, why are you winking at Mummy?”
Penny was unable to sustain her seriousness. “Okay, Eric, go and find your uncle. But I want you back before it’s dark, do you hear?Vampires might get you!”
“What’s a vamp hire?”
“Never mind. ” Ken slapped his son’s bottom as he headed for the door, clearly hoping to be alone with his wife for what seemed like the first time in months. “Now then, madam, since we’re at the seaside…”
A voice came from the hallway:“Mummy, we’re going!”
“Bye, you two! Brian, look after him!” Once Penny was certain her message had been heeded and the room’s door was shut, she turned to Ken and said, “Sorry, you were about to add…?”
Ken smiled. And only after hearing two pairs of feet thump down the hotel’s stairs did he finish with a rapid unzipping of his flies:“Here’s a stick of rock to…oh please, use your imagination. ”
——
“Uncle Brian?”
“Yes?”
“Why have you tied your coat around your waist like that?”
“I have two extra arms. They’re attached to my hips. But they’re very shy. They only come out at night. ”
“Ha, you’re silly!”
“That’s what the doctors told me, but they didn’t use that word. ”
“Eh?”
“It doesn’t matter. Where do you want to go?”
The town was less busy then it had been upon their arrival. A few families with children loitered outside noisy arcades, and some old folk like Eric’s grandma and granddad ate fi ‘n’ chips on benches near the sea. The sinking sun glittered on all the water, drawing Eric’s attention to a narrow strip of sand, which was deserted and accessible only by a pathway on the other side of a bridge. The air was far from cold, though a wind howled through craterous holes in an old ruin lurking above the area. It looked like a skull with gaping eye sockets up there…Eric looked away.
“Let’s go to the beach!” he said, reaching for the hand at the end of his uncle’s actual wrist rather than the false one made of plastic coat material.
“The beach to teach you about leeches’ reaches, yeah?”
Eric hadn’t understood that, so remained silent until they’d crossed a wide neck of water and were headed for secret pathways which would deliver them to the strip of sand and many caves. People watched them pass, happy to see a man out with a boy. The sound of the sea splashing against rocks grew louder and louder.
After reaching the beach, a thought occurred to Eric.
“Uncle Brian?”
“Yes, part two, the sequel?”
“Why aren’t you married? Do you want to have children like me? I wish you would. Some of the other boys at school have cousins and they sound cool. When will I have some?”
Now it was Uncle Brian’s turn not to reply; perhaps he hadn’t understood Eric’s question. The man found a spot at which to stoop, soliciting Eric to do the same. Brian’s false arms draped the sand, while his actual ones started poking around where a group of ants were crawling in a regimented pattern.
“These creatures are eusocial, ” Brian said in a strange voice. “Do you know what that means?”
“You …what?” Eric replied, confusion wrinkling his brow prematurely. “No, I don’t get it. Tell me. ”
“It means that most of them sacrifice their lives to the good of the organism to which they’re affiliated. They don’t reproduce—sorry, have babies. They’re there to serve the group. ”
Eric still didn’t understand. He didn’t like the way his uncle’s face had moved in the failing light, either: it looked like an insect’s, all twisted and pointy. To get them moving again, Eric would have to change the subject.
“Can you tell me a story? Make it a scary one. We can walk further down the beach while you say it. ”
The resemblance to an insect didn’t stop at Uncle Brian’s face. As he got up from crouching, his limbs appeared too angular, as if they should be dripping slime or
something. Maybe Eric was just thinking of the sea, which was edging towards the caves at the back of the beach. The tide would be in before long and it would be pitch dark.
“Go on, Uncle Brian, tell me a scary story!”
A seagull alighted on a rock nearby, its beak twitching along with its wings. Eric smiled and waved at it. Then his uncle started talking.
“Once upon a time, ” he said, “there was a man who, for many reasons, found living really hard. Then one day when he woke up in his bed, he found himself turned into a gigantic–”
“Something’s moving in one of them caves!” interrupted Eric, his voice panicky.
Uncle Brian seized on this too quickly. “Yes, that’s where the man I’m talking about lives. Only he isn’t what we’d call a man now. ” “What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s got six legs and he’s dark where once he was fair. And although close family and some friends can still recognise him, his face keeps–”
“Stop! You’re scaring me!”
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet, son. ”
Whatever was in the cave at which Eric had pointed moments earlier gave another restless shuffle. It sounded moist and yet dry, if that was possible, as if whatever was hidden inside possessed rickety limbs that were probing in all the seaweed there. Perhaps it hadn’t eaten today…This thought made Eric run a little quicker, tugging his uncle’s hand which had now disappeared.
Eric turned and looked down. Of course he’d just made a grab for the empty wristband of Brian’s cagoule’s flimsy arm. Relief ran through him like a cold drink. They were now a good distance from the black-stuffed cave.
“Come on, let’s go back, ” Eric instructed with newfound confidence. “I’m hungry and want…want ice cream. ”
Eric took his uncle’s real hand and led him back to the hotel. Only Brian glanced back occasionally, as if more scared of his story than Eric had been. That was silly, however: nothing could follow them through the streets, because there were too many people about…for now, at least. But it would soon be night-time. And everyone was just a child then, weren’t they? Even Eric’s parents got scared sometimes. He’d heard them talk in bed about troubling things, including Uncle Brian.
The moon had begun to rise beyond a restless sea. And if anything else hereabouts had begun to awaken, it did so quietly, steadily biding its time.
——
His son’s scream woke Ken at about three a. m.
He’d been revelling in a marvellous dream about himself taking over the company for which he worked, kicking out his boss, and recruiting only family members in its higher echelons: Eric all grown-up, his wife, a few cousins and other distant relatives. And Brian, of course. After all, who could you trust if not your own blood?
When the scream broke into this wishful thinking, Ken was initially disappointed. Beside him, Penny awoke, too. Their meal this evening after much energetic fun in the bedroom had obviously induced a blissful sleep, but now here were the old concerns. Ken wasn’t pleased.
“I hope…Brian hasn’t been telling him about…things he’s too young…to understand, ” his wife said drowsily, flinging back the bed sheets and heading for the connecting door.
Ken sighed and got up to follow, hoping the progress they’d made this weekend wouldn’t be undone. Kids had bad dreams; there was nothing unusual about that. Then he entered Eric’s quarters with his eyes half-open.
Before sleep, the boy had asked to keep his window open to combat the heat and listen to seagulls squawking. The sash was yawning, letting in flies or similar insects. But there was nothing else here. It had been a nightmare, then, just as Ken had thought.
“What’s the matter, Eric?” Penny was saying, taking the boy in her arms after sitting on the mattress.
“Mummy, it was horrible. I was sc-scared!”
“What was horrible, son?” Ken joined them, prising mother and child apart to hold them both in his supportive arms. Despite his yell earlier, the boy wasn’t crying, but definitely looked unsettled by something. Ken decided to push him a little; he didn’t want this episode to ruin their holiday. “Come on, Eric, what’s the matter?”
“It came in through the window, Daddy, ” Eric explained, but then he started smiling. Perhaps fright from the dream had given way to a less unnerving sensation. “It was as long and big as a man, but…but it had six legs. They were all horrid and scuttled along the floor like shovels on a beach. Then…then it raised its head to me. ”
Penny shivered and squirmed. And when Eric went on, his words clearly did little to comfort her.
“…and that was when I saw who it was. ”
Ken lifted his shoulders, up then down. “Well? Who was it?”
“Uncle Brian!” Eric said, now laughing loudly. “That funny noise he was making—like an insect’s rattling wings or something—must be just a trick he can do with his throat. And all those legs he had…well, he still had his coat tied around his waist. He was on all fours like a dog, so the extra legs must have been…must have been the arms of his coat, scraping the carpet. But…but…”At that moment, Eric didn’t look so self-assured. “Well, I think it was Uncle Brian, ” he added, his face losing a little of its gleeful sheen.
Penny gripped the boy with both hands, making him look her way. “What do you mean, think?” she asked, but then turned to Ken and in a private whisper hissed, “If that brother of yours has been in here …”
“His face was all…dirty!” their son eventually finished.
And Ken sensed his hopes shift like a huge slippage of sand.
——
He’d promised to talk to Brian, and after Penny had taken Eric out to enjoy some seaside entertainments, Ken knocked at his brother’s door, stepped in without awaiting a reply, and stood surveying the room.
It was almost noon. Brian had failed to join them at breakfast, but that wasn’t surprising. The medication he’d been prescribed interfered with his appetite and always had…but had there been a more insidious reason for his absence today?
Ken hoped not. It was still possible that Eric had imagined the whole thing, mixing up dreams with reality. This thought was far from reassuring, however: much of Brian’s behaviour as a child had involved similar confusions of perception. Indeed, it still did as an adult.
The curtains were closed, and Ken’s brother was huddled over a desk, scribbling in one of his familiar notebooks.
“Hi, Bri’, ” Ken said, hoping that the rhyming syllables would make the man smile, as it always had years ago. “What’re you up to?”
“Trying to control my demons, ” Brian replied, and turned slowly to face his brother. He was wearing the same clothes he had yesterday, including the cagoule tied around his waist. Had he even bothered to change for sleep, Ken wondered? Had he been to bed at all, in fact?
Penny had a foolish theory: although Brian couldn’t have entered their room through its door (he had no key, and besides, he’d surely have woken them if he’d tried), he might have climbed around the outside of the building and slipped in through Eric’s open window.
A breeze gusted against the drawn curtains, blowing them up in a spectral dance. But this was less important than Ken’s principal concern: what had his son meant when he’d claimed that Brian’s face had been “dirty”? It wasn’t now. The man washed obsessively each day.
“What demons are those, mate?” Ken asked, as if prompting a confession. Brian liked speaking in code and frequently used fiction as a vehicle to do so. It was how he communicated with the world at large—well, with adults, anyway. He was more comfortable with children, perhaps because that was all he was himself. Indeed, his reply sounded heartbreakingly vulnerable.
“There’s one in this town. And it’s coming for me. ”
“Oh, don’t start that ag…Er, sorry, Brian. Hey, have you taken your tablet this morning? You know what the doctor said about–”
“He doesn’t know. Nobody does. Except Eric. He saw it, too. Ask him. ”
Perhaps it had been a mistake bringing his brother on this trip. Maybe the unfamiliarity of the location had proved too much to—what was the word specialists had used?—to assimilate …But they’d be leaving tomorrow; another day wouldn’t harm, would it? Once back in Leeds, Ken might try a different strategy.
“Penny’s pretty upset about what you did last night, Bri’. ”
The curtains billowed up again. Was there a sound of something skittering outside? They were on the first floor and the window gave on to the rears of several B’n’Bs. Anything on the ground might be effectively hidden from view.
But what was he thinking? His brother’s weird mood was making him every bit as jittery. He should try and snap them both out of it.
“Fancy a beer?” Ken asked, knowing that alcohol sometimes alleviated his brother’s anxiety. “We could go down to the seaside and sit out in the sun. Watch the world go by, eh? What do you say?”
“After finishing my writing, I’m going for a walk, ” Brian replied, and in no less strained a voice added, “If I can capture truth on paper, I can keep it locked up—in this folder here. Do you see?”
Ken saw…but possibly didn’t see. But he knew he should do all he could to encourage Brian. There were things going on inside his head that Ken would never understand. Despite attempting to keep it all in the family, the only thing he was capable of was guesswork, inspired hunches, and challenging his brother occasionally. He sometimes thought this was all so-called experts had ever done, too.
“Okay, mate, ” he said, watching his brother scrutinise a page teeming with words on his desk. “We’ll catch you later, shall we? I’m going to find Penny and Eric now. We’ll be eating out somewhere tonight. We’d…we’d love you to join us. ”
Expressing emotion was difficult enough for Ken, let alone his brother. Maybe that was why Brian didn’t reply. He was clearly suffering a bad spell right now, and as that clicking sound struck up again outside, Ken had never felt more helpless with regard to his brother’s condition.
