Kitabı oku: «Billy. Going where darkness fears to tread…», sayfa 3
Chapter Seven
“Billy in Training”
The whole world appears ill equipped to handle the likes of this boy. He stands in faded and torn jeans, a t-shirt small enough to be a crop top and a filthy cardigan. His apparent impunity to any living soul is obvious when nobody approaches him. Not a soul saw his arrival and none lifts a hand when he stands amongst them, staring up at the sky as if seeking enlightenment, arms outstretched as if receiving the word of God.
At times he appears to smile and at others his concentration is obvious. He stood sometimes for hours on end, before nodding assent and smiling to himself, and then simply disappearing. Nobody is able to substantiate how this happens, simply one second he is there and the next he is not.
Similar incidents are reported three times over fours years in different cities and
States. They remain unconnected, even though up to forty witnesses are procured. But no laws have been broken so in all cases, further action is deemed unnecessary.
Chapter Eight
“Billy the Man”
The view was nice – water, boats, high rise buildings off in the distance, but very few people. Billy didn’t see any of it. Sure, he knew it was there, and sitting on the patio there like he was gave him the greatest exposure, but he really hadn’t seen anything for months now, not since that night when they pronounced his Dad dead. In his chair of course – eyes still open, and Billy was the only one that could tell you he was still watching that damn television. Billy knew that kind of thing happened if your grasp on something in Reality is strong enough.
It didn’t shock him as much as his mother did. She held Billy responsible, made a scene she did, enough for the ambulance guys to actually restrain her. They ended up taking her with them in the back of that same ambulance, sedated and strapped in a stretcher beside her husband. Tony didn’t hang around. He knew his limitations.
For the first time since that night, Billy was actually considering going back, to see that his Mum was okay, and to see Jen. He hadn’t looked much at Reality for a while. You know how it is. Grief does funny things to people, and in Billy’s case, it sent him off.
Right now he sat beside this old guy and Billy couldn’t recall whether the old man owned this place or rented it. He knew he’d liked it there. The old man had died too, yesterday afternoon actually, and his sleeping corpse had sat outside on his patio all night and most of the day. He was still enjoying his view, not unlike Billy’s Dad and his bloody TV. Billy heard a noise on the upstairs balcony and decided that now was the time.
“Hey, hullo, is there someone up there?” He stepped away from the patio area so he could look up to that balcony and be visible to anybody there. An elderly lady holding a watering can peered down. “Ma’am, the man down here, in the unit underneath you. I think he’s, well, could you just ring an ambulance?”
That little old lady peered at Billy for a few seconds. Then without a word she walked back into her unit, methodically closing her balcony door like she’d probably done a thousand times before. She began closing her curtains and Billy realised he was on his own. He walked to the patio door and found it unlocked, of course. The phone hung over the kitchen bench and after dialling 000, he returned outside to wait.
A Police car arrived first – no siren, just pulled up out front. The two occupants stared out the windows, exchanged a glance and got out. Nothing strange to see really, a young guy, Billy, sitting on a deck chair beside a dead guy.
“I asked for an ambulance,” Billy said to them.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m waiting for an ambulance.”
“Why?”
“‘cause he’s dead.” They both looked shocked. Reality dawned on Billy, pun intended for those in the know. “Did the old lady upstairs ring you guys? Damn! I asked her to call an ambulance.” The lead one now went toward the old man and found no pulse. He glanced at his partner again and both turned to face Billy. He shrugged his shoulders at them, “What? You believe me now?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I was walking past and I saw this old guy sitting here. I said g’day to him and when he didn’t acknowledge me I knew there was something wrong. I yelled at the old lady upstairs to call the ambulance – silly old duck must have asked for you guys by mistake, sorry.”
Billy wondered what they’d think if they knew he’d been there over four months, keeping that old guy company even though he didn’t know it. Billy hadn’t thought for a moment the old man would last that long but he led a pretty unstressed life. The ambulance pulled up. Its red lights were flashing and Billy had a momentary thought about that night coming home to his Dad. Exchanging glances yet again, one copper went to the ambulance and the other approached him.
“You got any ID?”
Billy produced his wallet, showed him the school bus pass that was the only thing with his name on it, and stood up. They must have thought it safer with him sitting as neither cop had asked him to stand before that – and Billy only did so now so they could see he was just a kid. What he didn’t realise was how much he’d aged in the past few months. Grief does that to you as well.
“What’s your name?”
“Like it says on my pass, Billy Nelson.”
“It says,” he held it up as if he had poor eyesight or reading skills, “William Augustus Nelson,” as if it meant something Billy should know, which of course it did seeing as that was his name. The cop kept looking at Billy waiting for some kind of response. Billy wasn’t sure what was wanted so he said nothing. He stood there looking back. He felt something was wrong but didn’t want to make things any more difficult than they already were. His at times smart mouth had got him into trouble before so he kept it shut this time. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen sir.” Billy decided that respect was required.
“When’s your birthday?”
“Eleventh of September sir.”
“What year?”
“Why, every year sir!” He grinned.
Billy couldn’t resist that and once more his mouth brought trouble! The cop didn’t smile back, that’s for sure. “Wait here smart arse.”
He stamped back toward his car holding Billy’s wallet and bus pass, spoke briefly to his partner then opened the passenger door. The ambulance guys had been held back until then and they immediately went to the old man after a nod from the other cop. Nobody looked at Billy. The old guy was deposited onto a gurney, the sheet pulled up over his head then unceremoniously wheeled and shunted into the back of the ambulance. They were about to drive off when the cop in the car got out and halted them with an upraised arm. He walked over to his partner and exchanged a few words, and they both approached Billy.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Billy Nelson sir.”
“And how old are you Billy?”
“Fifteen.”
“Please raise your hands in the air, turn around, we’re going to do a pat down.”
Billy looked at them blankly. He had no idea what they meant. “What did you say?” Billy sounded confused.
One of them placed his palm on the butt of his revolver. The other cop moved forward, wheeled Billy around roughly and pulled his arms above his head. Billy recognised what they wanted now though he still didn’t know why. He was patted down, a card came from one pocket of his jeans and some loose change from another and they spun him back around again. Billy kept his arms up. He wasn’t scared, just confused, but thought it was better if he acted a little frightened.
“Please, what have I done?”
“Put your arms down idiot,” the first one commanded. “What’s this?” He waved the card at Billy.
Billy had to think for a second. The cop even turned the card around and showed it to him. “Oh, that’s Joe Cockers’ agent.”
“Yeah right. And I’m Kamhal.”
“No. True story. Joe Cocker gave it to me a few months ago.”
“Where was that?”
“Byron Bay, at the Top Pub.”
They looked at each other again and came to some conclusion or other. “Alright, William Augustus Nelson or whatever your name is, you’re coming with us to the station.”
“Why? All I did was call an ambulance for a dead guy. What am I supposed to have done?”
“How old d’ya reckon you are?”
“Fifteen,” he said angrily now.
“Well Billy, or whoever you are,” the cop sneered back, “William Augustus Nelson has been reported as a missing person for over four years now. You look about twenty to me and everybody else in this world yet you claim to be fifteen. Haven’t used a mirror in awhile have you? Not many fifteen year olds have facial growth like that,” he pointed.
Instinctively Billy reached up to his face and quickly pulled his hand away. Hair. He had hair on his face! God, I haven’t even started shaving yet he thought! Any wonder the old lady called the cops and any wonder the cops are now treating me like a suspect. He looked down at himself and saw his jeans only barely made it to his ankles. His t-shirt was at least two sizes to small, just covering his belly button, and the cardigan was tattered and torn. He looked like a street bum and all of a sudden he was embarrassed! He looked at the coppers, eyes pleading at them to understand his confusion. He saw that he was a similar height to the tallest cop who was at least six foot. Billy looked down at his bare ankles again – and feinted.
In times of peril or from sheer desire or need, Billy regularly moved between his two parallels. He could remain anonymous, invisible to reality when he did so, and as a sanctuary it was second to none. Billy thought of that as soon as he woke up. He should have moved on and the cops would have been left with nothing but thin air and a great story to tell. Looking at the white ceiling above him, he heard and smelt enough to know he was in a hospital. He looked higher and craned his head, seeing his name handwritten on a card mounted on the headboard. At least it said he was still Billy Nelson. He moved an arm expecting to find it restrained, but it wasn’t. Neither arm was, nor his legs. He could see out of the window but didn’t recognise anything, the room too high in the building to allow visible landmarks. He sat up without problem, except for gnawing hunger pangs from his tummy. Reality!
“Hello there,” said a bright and cheery voice from the doorway.
Billy looked at her and was disappointed with what he saw. Her voice had conjured up images of a young bosomy nurse in a low cut dress and instead he got an old, dumpy thing in what could only be described as prison issues! She walked into the room and picked up his chart, checked pulse, blood pressure, and chatted incessantly. Billy may have liked the initial sound of her voice but after another minute of it he was ready to throttle her. She popped a thermometer in his mouth just as she paused enough in her prattle for him to get in the burning question.
“Rot rer rer it?”
She’d have made a beaut dentist as she actually understood what he said. “They told us you might ask that you know!”
Billy rolled his eyes at her. He wondered if they told her how to answer it as well. He removed the thermometer from his mouth. “What, year, is, it?” enunciating each word so she would hopefully comprehend that an immediate answer was required.
She stood still looking at him, no discernible concern registering on her face that she felt insulted or anything. Her response ignored his question entirely. “You put that back in your mouth right now,” she scolded.
Billy was beginning to get a mite upset but somehow kept his anger in check. You could just kill her you know? He had always been a patient person and very little upset him. Composed. That’s how one of his teachers described him. But if the cops had been right, and recalling his appearance he did not doubt it, he understood that somehow, he had not been away only four months, but four years and four months.
His recollection of the last four months was as plain as day, sitting out on that patio with the old man watching the boats go by. He had no one to ask where he’d been for four years, and he doubted anybody else would know, except he knew he should. Billy strained, concentrated, but could not recall anything. He clearly remembered walking out of home the morning after his Dad and Mum had been taken away. He recalled moving on. He could see each and every day since, as they had all been almost exactly the same. There had been no break, no breach at all. Where had the other four years gone? He put the thermometer back in my mouth.
“Rot rear ris it?”
“Why, it’s nineteen eighty-four!” she replied brightly, as if he was stupid or something.
So it was fact – he had lost four years of his life. He lay back on the pillow so confused that he couldn’t work out if he was twenty already, or turning twenty in another few months. Little in Life frightened him but this came close. He warmed to some memories, of Mum and Dad, home, Tony, school, but mostly, mostly of Jen. Oh fuck, more of this bleedin’ heart crap. And he dreamed of seeing her again after what was supposed to have been short sabbatical, and what their reunion would be like. It will certainly be different now. The warden spoke again and interrupted his thoughts.
“I said, you’re probably famished. I’ll get something sent up to you, okay?” Billy looked at her and nodded. “Let me give you a hint young man. This is a public hospital, and the Staff does not have time to mess around with people who think they are something special. The nerve, running away the way you did! Any wonder your poor mother passed away like that!”
She walked away, leaving Billy staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the vacant doorway. Told you to kill her. Mum gone too. It was getting a little clearer now, slowly, as the story unfolded and he managed to put the pieces together. Nobody had really asked him where he’d been yet, except the cops. They must simply assume that he’d hid somewhere for four years. The probable reality was that nobody knew, nobody, but Billy should have. Perhaps the guys on the other side had some idea. He moved on and went home.
Chapter Nine
“Transits, Home, Jen, and Tony”
Moving On Billy called it. The term described shifting between the parallels or from one location to another within the same parallel. People, normal people have this conception that ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them, can appear wherever they want to. Well, whatever you think they are, they can do that. But there are limitations. They can’t decide that Tahiti looks good and just go there! They must have some history at the location first, in Life, then they can return whenever they want, if they want. Hence the commonly known “haunted house’ scenario. Most of them did exactly that for the first couple of years, (return that is, not haunt, a debateable difference) until things change so much that it begins to hurt. Survivors in Life, the widow, the widower, the girlfriend, boyfriend, whoever, always found someone else eventually. These transitory beings, transits, would usually give up after that, and after days, months or even years would finally pass on to wherever.
The Transits were the ones Billy saw moving into and out of Life as they checked up on their Reality. As soon as that was gone, so were they. Which helps explain why Billy was always so composed at such a young age. He needed to keep his feet on the ground, metaphorically speaking, but what he knew, what he alone saw and experienced granted a boy maturity beyond anything Life could give. He opened his front gate and walked slowly toward the front door, the front fence, garden and the outside of the house had been completely refurbished. He looked around in wonder.
“Who is it?” was the response to his tentative knock.
Billy didn’t recognise the voice and moved on into the house so he could see. The inside had also changed considerably. New paint, furniture, his Dad’s chair and TV were gone. His room was now a nursery; colourful mobiles hung from the ceiling and gaily painted animals and letters of the alphabet splashed over the walls. He returned and stood beside the woman as she opened the front door, and was greeted by nobody, of course. She peered around, up and down the street and then closed the door.
“Damn kids!” she muttered.
She walked back to the renovated kitchen where Billy had interrupted her cake making. He watched as she hummed to herself and resumed beating the mixture. It felt comfortable and Billy thought he might stay awhile but then shook his head.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he admonished.
The woman stopped beating and frowned. She looked around the kitchen, shook her head herself, and continued beating again. Her humming was softer, more restrained.
Billy looked around the house one more time then went to Tonys’ place. There was no mistaking that Tony still lived there. His room had not changed but his drum kit was bigger and more expensive, as was his sound equipment. Billy sat down at the messy desk and wrote a note, then took a deep breath for his next visit. This was going to be the difficult one. He went to Jens’.
He sat on her bed and looked around the room. Very little had changed but enough to know Jen wasn’t there anymore. Her photos were still there on the wall and the mirror of her dresser, exactly as he remembered them. He saw one of them together at the tennis courts as well. She was so beautiful. He quietly opened a few drawers of her dresser. They were empty. Her wardrobe was empty. Everything was completely empty. The room was like a shell, a facade. It didn’t feel like she had just moved out of home or anything simple like that. Billy thought that she would have taken the photos, and her parents wouldn’t have left her room looking like a mausoleum. Something felt wrong, even smelt wrong. He took one of the smaller photos from the mirror.
He could smell that cake cooking back at home, his old home, and remembered how hungry he was. His note for Tony, if he got it in time, would see them catch up before the weekend was out. Billy went to his other favourite place, the tennis courts, or more precisely, the clubhouse.
It wasn’t small anymore. It had more than doubled in size, and there was six courts now all green concrete with permanent painted lines. A lingering aroma of food remained and Billy assumed that he’d just missed the ladies morning comp. The smell reminded him again of his hunger. That’s the trouble with Life, you have to maintain it or die, or at the very least suffer in some way. There was a fridge and a freezer and a proper kitchen in there no less so he helped myself as well as he could. A frozen steak out of the freezer was soon sizzling on a hot plate. Some left over salad from the fridge went straight into his mouth. He ate the steak half raw and still part frozen in the centre, slapped between two slices of bread warmed over the cooking steak. The juices ran through the bread and made it fall apart but he didn’t care. It was a feast, and he made an appropriate mess eating it!
Billy’s ability to move in and out of Life used to give his Mum and Dad the heebee jeebees that’s for sure! His Mum would be pushing the stroller along only to find her toddler, Billy, gone less than two minutes after she’d strapped him in there! They got used to it eventually, but he remembered the looks of confusion they used to get from hospitals and doctors, counsellors and psychiatrists, as his Mum tried to explain that their “baby’ could disappear and reappear at will! Of course Billy never did it in front of anyone else – nobody would understand!
Before jumping to any conclusions, Billy is not dead. He hasn’t died, been killed, or anything like that. He was just born to it, and whatever or however it happened, not even the guys Over There can tell him why. They look to him with a reverence, naturally, because he is alive, and they are not. To Billy, it is all perfectly natural.
Chapter Ten
“The Reunion”
He checked his watch. It was almost time to meet Tony – if he’d got the message. His watch always read the right time. Reality time that is, but it didn’t work at all on the other side. Billy never questions it – it’s just normal. He went to the all nighter in Ballina, a service station, the only one in town that was open all night. Guess that didn’t need explaining?
When he arrived he mingled into a recently arrived group from a tour bus, a young kid the only one to notice him. It rarely happened, where he appeared in somebody’s focus, and when it did, such is Life, most assume he had always been there! Kids, though, kids are different. They are still questioning Life and normalcy. It wasn’t normal for Billy to have materialised like that right before his eyes. The kid tugged at his mother’s sleeve and she gave Billy a quick cursory glance. There was a busload of people and she hadn’t seen them all on their short leg down from Brisbane. She pulled her kid away sharply and Billy felt sorry for him – she’d probably take him around the corner and give him a belt across the backside now, for lying. Sorry kid!
Billy sat down outside the packed cafeteria and watched. The people moved past him, in and out, making the most of the chance to stretch their legs. Probably the only place busier would be the loos. He saw Tony drive up searching the throng, unable to drive closer than the fuel pumps because of the crowd and the parked bus. Billy blessed him for being reliable and stood up, waving his arms so that he wouldn’t miss him. That was a possibility – Billy hadn’t forgotten his appearance had changed a little, and it had been over four years since Tony had last seen him.
Billy didn’t look like a faggot anymore either. He wasn’t so dumb that he’d left the hospital in those backless gowns they dress you in. Actually, and embarrassingly, he did! He’d forgotten, and that’s why he hadn’t let the lady at his old house see him. Later, he borrowed some of Tonys’ clothes, had his first ever shave – a very painful experience – a shower, spruced up totally. His long, dark hair was clean and brushed. He had to look good for Jen, and Tony of course.
Tony stared at him in amazement before recognition hit home. He leapt out of the car and raced over, hugging Billy embarrassingly in front of everybody. Billy was brought up with little or no physical affection and he was uncomfortable with this scenario. Tony hadn’t grown much, or maybe it was just that Billy had – he stood half a head taller than him. It was fortunate he dressed like a dag so at least his clothes fitted both of them. Tony stood at arms length looking Billy up and down, his hands cupping his shoulders as he carried out his inspection. That Cheshire grin he possessed was plastered right across his face.
“Fucking hell man, that is you in there isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s me you idiot,” Billy told him.
As soon as he heard the retort his smile widened. “It is you! Jeeesarse man, where ya bin, wow, look at you!”
“Let’s get outta here Tone.”
“Yeah, yeah, c’mon, we’ll go down to the Aussie, no somewhere quieter and you can tell me all about it.”
He remained looking at Billy, in awe almost. He had hardly changed, except for a wispy goatee. He chatted non-stop all the way to the pub – only once did he pause, after he mentioned Jen. A quick glance at Billy then he carried on talking as if he’d never stopped. But Billy knew Tony. It may have been almost four and half years for him but it was still only mere months for Billy. There was something about Jen. Something had happened that he didn’t want to talk about. Billy thought about Jen’s bedroom, how empty it had been and made a mental note to bring it up later, but he ran through the possible scenarios. The most likely one was that she was with someone else, married probably. Billy was patient enough. He knew he would find out in due course.
They walked into the pub and Billy was about to make a joke that this was his first time legally on licensed premises. Now that would take some explaining! Their early years familiarising themselves with the interiors of such establishments meant it wasn’t such a big deal anyway. However, like most teenagers, and he still thought of himself as one, Billy had been looking forward to this very occasion. The Aussie, as he had known it, had been flashed up a bit since the last time. Tony had said they would go somewhere quieter but it’s where they ended up. Billy didn’t bother questioning it. Tony had almost exhausted his chat and begun to ask questions. Billy replied as best he could, having quickly prepared some set responses.
“Nah, just shared a flat with some old guy on the Gold Coast for awhile.”
“Yeah, worked around doing odd jobs. No, no singing.”
“Yeah, I was gonna call so many times, but you know, I thought, I didn’t know what to say to you man. Like, I buggered off and all on you, I thought you might hate me!”
“Yeah, I heard about Mum. After the funeral though. You went hoping I was going to be there? Why thanks mate.”
“No, by myself. No sheilas. Have you seen Jen? What? No I haven’t heard. You thought I already knew? About what?”
“So, she married? Got knocked up, had a kid? What?”
Tony was shrinking on his bar stool – if it hadn’t been there he would have been under the table by now. It was very obvious that he did not want to discuss Jen. For some reason he assumed Billy already knew. Billy thought he knew why. Tony would assume that Billy had already contacted her, or kept in contact even.
“Tony?”
“She’s, ah, gone Billy. Coupla years ago now. No! More, longer, same year you left.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone. Gone gone. Um… dead. Killed. God, I’m sorry Billy. I thought you knew. She, she and some, some guy, got killed, down at Riley’s Hill quarry. Murdered. Cut the guys head off too they did! Um, Billy, I’m so sorry man.”
