Dehydrated and cold, Howard staggered back to Napoleon Terrace.
By the time he opened the front door it was light. Without removing
his crumpled nightdress and trainers he slumped onto his bed and slept fitfully.
He dreamed he was on the jury of a court case hosted in a lecture theatre.
Greg was on trial for the murder of Jacintha. The judge decreed that all
the legal fees would be taken out of university funds. Instantly irked, Howard
demanded to know how large the legal fees would be. The judge answered that
they would come to a few million pounds. Howard furiously thumped
the lecture theatre desk and left. Outside he met Greg, Dominic, Marlon and
Steve. If they hid a stone obelisk three times the height of a man they would
exempt Exfield University from having to pay the costs. Howard and his companions
jumped into an outdoor swimming pool. The water was pleasant and warm enough
that it did not feel of anything. They pulled the obelisk into the pool. It sank out of sight. Suddenly the obelisk floated again, disturbed by a singleton
wave. Howard thought the wave was terrific fun as he bobbed in it. A tsunami
was heading over land towards them. Howard was not worried at this but the
others panicked and scrambled out of the swimming pool to seek shelter from
the colossal approaching tidal wave. They cried out because they sensed that
their attempts to find protection from the sheer destructive force of the
wave were wholly futile. Their fear infected Howard who realised that the
tsunami was larger than he had supposed. He too climbed out of the pool and
tried to find a hiding place. In despair he descended to a sunken back yard
outside a conservatory that abutted onto the brick remains of a house. The
tidal wave was racing towards him and he could not take his eye off it. As
the awesome wave was about to strike, he was certain he would not survive.
Salvation did arrive at the eleventh hour in the form of
wakefulness. Wide-eyed and gasping he sat bolt upright in his bed. He could
hear the phone was ringing in the hall. Atop a traumatised duvet he sleepily
rolled onto his side. Relief.
Wondering out into the bathroom he saw that Gallie's door
was open. There was no sign of her, or of Greg or Karen. Deciding he was in
dire need of fluids and a bath he grabbed a towel, went downstairs and headed
for the bathroom. His hangover was heady: however, possessing the golden constitution
of youth, he was proficient at withstanding such sicknesses.
The phone rang.
'Hello?'
'Hello, is that Howard?'
'Karen! Where are you?'
'I'm with my munchkin Dommie, actually we've got Jacintha
here too.'
'Really? How is she?'
'Me and Dominic have taken really good care of her we really
have. She's like sleeping in Dominic's bed. He's snoring on the floor, bless
him, he deserves a rest after saving the poor girl's life. He's definitely,
you know, my cool knight in shining armour!'
'I bet he is,' muttered Howard bitterly.
'Howie, have you seen Gallie?'
'No she's not in. Why?'
'Only I'm a bit worried about her, we left her at the party.
She was with Drijk.'
Howard jolted at the news. If Dominic could rescue Jacintha,
then
he would rescue
Gallie from an even greater peril.
'Karen, I'm going after her!'
'No
wait!'
He slammed down the phone. His mind whirred: was Gallie
safe? He threw down the towel. There was no time to wash. Realising he was still wearing a perforated nightdress, he hastily changed into new clothes
and mumbled lines to himself of what he would tell Drijk. Should he be meek
and diplomatic to curb the risk of brutal injury or should he be bold to impress
Gallie?
The Maxi refused to start. He cursed and thumped the wheel.
He ran to the end of Napoleon Terrace and down the Chillington Road in
the direction of the University. A chill breeze licked him but he did not
care. Adrenaline was flushing into his bloodstream. Gallie was his
universe now. He would find her and he would rescue her. Turning down a side
road, he chided himself for being so irresponsible: how could he have left
Gallie to fend for herself in that house? How could he have so unwittingly
left her in the clutches of Drijk? She was so delicate and he had deserted
her and betrayed her to the mercy of a psychopath. His body struggled to cope
at full tilt. His chest was sore. He was forced by agony to slow his pace
to a gentle jog. He descended a valley and when faced with the steep climb
up the other side, diminished his gait to an impatient walk. Drijk's house
had not seemed so distant the previous night.
He turned into a leafy avenue and came at last to the house.
Its large Victorian frame looked just as foreboding in daylight as it had in the darkness of night. The adrenaline
made him feel invincible. He knocked on the door. He knocked again, and a
third time, feeling a sudden deflated. The possibility of that great house
being empty had not occurred to him. He considered smashing a window. He was
alerted by heavy clanking noises and the great front door creaked ajar to
reveal an unwell-looking man wearing a moth-eaten Pink Floyd t-shirt and
corduroy trousers.
'I'm here to see Drijk,' said Howard.
The man seemed in no mood to care. Howard enquired which
room was Drijk's.
'The big one: first on the left.'
The house looked almost unrecognisable from
the mania of the night before. The swarm of
students had long dispersed but the detritus
of beer cans, fag ends, bottles and takeaway
pizza boxes remained as a testament to their
excessive exploits. He ran up the stairs in
twos, a feat much easier now they were free
of groping bodies. A cubbyhole concealed the
first door on the left. On the floor was the
padlock with the twisted hook that the bolt
cutters, by very his own hand, had severed.
Howard began to feel the chill of trepidation.
He put his ear to the door and what he heard
filled him with terror. His hearing, enhanced
by excitement, had picked out a delicate but
rich voice - Gallie's voice - moaning. He flinched.
She'd been there all this time in Drijk's room,
in the torture chamber of a psychopath! He imagined
that being at Drijk's mercy for mere minutes
must be a deathless eternity and Gallie herself
had been there for
hours. It was unbearable
to contemplate. He thought that he understood
the emotion of guilt when faced with the doom
of Jacintha, but this was a more visceral agony.
The picture conjured in his mind of Drijk sadistically
persecuting the vulnerable, loving, tender Gallie
was excruciating.
The strains of another moan, almost an abandoned sob, filtered
through the door. Howard weighted up his options. Should he call the police?
He could not take on Drijk single-handedly: the guy was lethal. Another moan,
a pitiful, helpless, hopeless cry, a cry of a soul eternally trapped in Hell.
Every second an eternity, an eternity that would rip and scar her brain forever.
He remembered Karen lauding Dominic as the saviour of Jacintha. His resolved
to fight, to sacrifice his own safety for the sake of hers.
Every cell in his body tautened. He took two steps back
from the door and, with a frenetic, hammering heart, he ran into the door,
which yielded, flying open with a terrible blast. There was an abrupt female
scream. Gallie and Drijk were naked on the bed. Gallie was clutching a formidable
vibrator in both hands. She grabbed the sheet and covered herself defensively.
Drijk sprang to his feet and placed himself between Howard and Gallie. Howard
froze, as if paralysed before a lethal serpent.
Before him stood Drijk. His white hair was uncharacteristically
tangled. His eyes transmitted focussed, vengeful hatred. His body, though
unclothed, did not seem vulnerable. Its pale, almost blue, skin stretched
elastically over lithe muscles. To Howard his opponent seemed as invincible
as metal: he was so distressed that he found himself unable to beg for his
life.
'Unfortunately for you,' whispered Drijk, 'I know who cut
the lock off my door.' Drijk picked up the pair of bolt cutters that lay
near his feet. With rapid snaps of the wrists, he levered the handles open
and shut several times, then lowered the cutters towards Howard's crotch.
'Ohhhh my
God!' gasped Gallie in a voice that showed
she was quite convinced Drijk was about to inflict some terrible act.
Howard's fear amplified. He felt his bowels loosen. Feeling
faint, he covered his groin pathetically with his hands.
Drijk smiled gruesomely. 'No use doing that. Cutters slice
off fingers easy as butter!' Drijk's voice was seething yet calm; raging yet
controlled. His face showed the anticipation of extreme, sickening pleasure.
Howard pleaded tremulously that he had not known that it
was Drijk's room: that he had been drunk and would not knowingly trespass
against Drijk in a trillion years. He pleaded with Drijk to let him buy a
new lock:
anything. Drijk seemed unimpressed. He advanced, opening
and closing the cutters, which emitted metallic chinking sounds as mind-wrecking
as any sound Howard had heard in his life.
'Oh shit!' Howard sobbed.
Drijk advanced. He was now standing over Howard, who shrank
from him, face pale, jaw trembling. Drijk leaned forward. Howard retreated,
his back pressed against the wall. Drijk moved the blades cutters towards
Howard's hands that covered his crotch.
'Move your fingers or I slice them off,' hissed Drijk. 'I
like the crunch of bone as I cut!'
The inside blade of the jaws of the cutters touched Howard's
hand. He recoiled but there was little space to retreat into. The bolt cutters
advanced, opened and this time he felt the cold steel blades enclose his fingers
and slowly, very slowly, squeeze. He hyperventilated, squeezed his eyes shut
and braced himself for the unimaginable.
'Howard!' chided Gallie's delicate voice. 'Hey! What were
you doing with Jacintha?' Her voice was furious. But to Howard that grievous
voice sounded as sweet as anything he had heard in his life: it sounded like
hope.
'Gallie!' he gasped.
Gallie rushed over and stared with pure revulsion at Howard.
'Howard! Greg told me you were trying to
fuck Jacintha!
Ugh!' Gallie quivered with fury and indignation. Her little hands were
clenched into white balls and her eyes were moist.
Howard could not resist a startled, indulgent
glance at her nakedness. As if to prove that
sexual instincts can compete healthily with
those of self-preservation, momentarily his
threatened member swelled, pressing his fingers
against the blades of the bolt-cutters.
'What? I've not touched her!'
Gallie slapped him viscously. 'You total...
bastard!'
'Gallie!' gasped Howard, 'I love
you!
Honest!'
Gallie's face was etched with thorough disgust. She seemed
not to notice Drijk, who, with a malevolent smirk, continued to squeeze the
bolt cutters, pinching Howard's fingers. Howard grimaced with panic as the
pain became agonising. Gallie placed her pale arms around Drijk's neck, reached
up and kissed him. Drijk did nothing to help or hinder her. She pressed her
tiny hands against the white hair on his head and kissed him gently and then
wildly, on the lips.
During more normal circumstances, Howard would have been
mortified at the spectacle of his cherished housemate locked mouth to mouth
with anyone, let alone his enemy. But now he saw Gallie had created an infinitely
welcome diversion. He ripped his hands from the cutters, which snapped shut.
He felt an excruciating pain in the small finger of his left hand: he had
never known agony like it. Gallie screamed hysterically. He made a break for
the door. As he dashed into the landing he felt a sharp blow to the back of
his head.
***
*****
***
There is something lurking in the Universe that is imponderable
and yet so important that we are all missing it. It is something right before
our eyes, something that underpins reality. We do not know what it is but
we can sense it. And this is the power of the artist; of the genius; of the
charismatic: to tap this strange ether that weaves the fabric of reality.
It cannot be grasped. It cannot be moulded into a tangible object. We can
but expose ourselves to what is uncertain. We unburden ourselves of our senses
and we will be the unknowable.
Howard opened his eyes. He became aware of blinding lights
and excited voices. He sank into blackness.
'Gallie, I doubt that very much indeed.' He laughed and
put his feet up on the lounge table.
'It's true! I can read you like a book.'
'How
do I read? Like the
Bible?'
'Quite frankly, you're more literally the
Satanic Verses,'
snarled Granny Grail. She exchanged a knowing look with her sister, Granny
Grolgoth, and cackled raucously.
'Gallie, I must say I love your sweet laugh!' said Howard.
'Really? It's a bit much really. Actually I like the gurgles
of a rat that chokes on a toad,' screeched Granny Grolgoth.
'Karen!' protested Howard, 'Now that is not nice. Gallie's
laugh is the only sound I like! But your laugh is musical too.'
Granny Grail and Granny Grolgoth cackled crustily, their
gnarled larynxes vibrated dryly as foul air fled their blackened lungs.
Feebly, Howard swept his decrepit hand through his wispy
white hair. 'You guy's fancy going to the Union Disco tonight? It should be
good tonight.'
'I really like haven't a clue what to
wear, nothing
I have matches my mood,' whined Granny Grolgoth.
'Ohhhh, why do you not go in that nice black number you
bought today?' implored Granny Grail.
'Well is it sort of trendy enough?'
A bristling, brawny black cat marched into the room. It
was
utterly black: lacking even the white dot on the chest that is
usual in black cats. The animal crept onto the sofa and looked at Howard with
that sinister aloofness that people who loathe cats particularly loathe them
for.
Howard frowned. 'Moggie Macabre?' He thought he saw the
cat scowl at that moment. 'Karen, lend me a ciggie, I'm clean out.'
Granny Grolgoth handed Howard readily prepared reefer.
'I remembered!' said Howard expelling rank fumes from his
lungs. He had been bracing himself to mention this, yet his voice stalled.
'Best not to upset yourself, is it not?' said Granny Grail.
'I remembered when I was in the Maxi. In the Maxi I remembered
what happened to Jacintha. I remembered thinking how Jacintha
really
died.'
Granny Grail cackled a cackle that spanned three octaves
in some species of scale that tormented the musical ear. The cackle began
on a wine-glass-threateningly high note, descended with phrasing that would
not have been out of place in a virtuosic concerto, then, just as the mirth
had reached the nadir pitch it rebounded to finish on the same lofty note
as it had started.
'I didn't like tell you did I? I bought these wicked new
earrings today. They are just fab, really they
are.' hissed Granny
Grolgoth.
'Will you kindly stopper your mouth, Karen?' interrupted
Howard. Silence filled the room for a while before he continued more slowly
and deliberately. 'Everything bad that happened to me when I lived in this
house was your doing, wasn't it Gallie? It was you who stole that red folder
containing Jacintha's astronomy notes. I never did find it. And you were friendly
with Drijk from the start. You organised that fight with Drijk in that alleyway.'
Granny Grail scowled. 'No Howie, how could you say such
awful things?'
'I remember now about Jacintha.'
Granny Grail's craggy face grew ashen as the last faint
stains of colour seeped from the eroded skin. 'Howie, finish your
tea,
it will get cold if you just leave it there,' she implored.
'Oh, yeah, thanks.' Howard reached for the mug of black
tea. 'I remember now. I know it. My subconscious knows it. Jacintha was
pushed
into her suicide attempt.
You were behind it, Gallie. It was
you
who took that photo. It was you who put that photo on the blackboard!'
Granny Grail stared at Howard. Her mouth gaped. Granny Grolgoth
fidgeted restlessly. 'Your tea, Howie! It's getting cold, my child.'
'You want to poison me too? You want it out of malice.'
'Ohhh that's a
terrible thing to say!'
Howard relaxed as one who has just set down heavy baggage
after a long journey.
'Jacintha's amazing. So intelligent and gentle as a flower.'
'Drink your
tea, you'll feel better,' whispered Granny
Grail in a kindly rasp.
Howard sipped. He felt serene. It did not matter to him
that the tea tasted off. He knew that taste. He had tasted that bitterness
before. He felt better now. He smiled benignly. Gallie was so gorgeous. He
smiled and let his eyes close. Happily he listened to delicately spoken words
sweetly rendered in Gallie's musical voice.
'Ohhh my, how well he fought; so well; soooo
very
well. The light goes by him. The light goes by.'
'No it doesn't!' said Howard springing to his feet. 'I'll
see myself out.'
Granny Grail and Granny Grolgoth watched him watched him leave with eyes that glowed red with vehemence.
 | | | | |
| From: |
Knoeier | Subject: | 2003-04-01 05:41:04 |
| | | | |
help: how to add your comment Page hits: 1430Any thoughts or feedback?
Add your comment
