Dark Harbour: The Tale of the Soul Searcher (11 page)

Danny felt a little awkward as he stood at the shelter. The curls of hair on his head were twisting around in the evening breeze like leaves in a storm. His mind was just as agitated, fixed on the one thing that it always was, that enchanting beauty who’d hijacked all of his desires and emotions: Stella. Her name echoed throughout his mind constantly, as though it beated along with his pulse.

Stella Stella Stella Stella Stella
.

Danny was seriously worried. His lust for her had only increased since he’d found out about her engagement. He knew it was a lost cause now, but why couldn’t he give her up? Why did he still keep chasing after this silly dream? He’d completed his poem now. That was supposed to be the thing to help straighten out his emotions but all that had seemed to do was make them worse!

He knew he should be up in the lounge with Michael and Larry at this moment, playing on the Playstation or talking about how badly their coursework was going. But instead, like an idiot, he was at the shelter, waiting to catch this stupid bus.

The 1906 bus.

It was early by about five minutes. Danny climbed on board after the half dozen other people congregating at the shelter. After he paid for his fare he turned and faced the seats. Which one to sit on? He eventually picked one away from everyone else as it had plenty of empty seats around it. Once he made himself comfortable, he then waited for what inevitably happened.
She
would turn up.

He glanced out of the window. Just a little way down the road was a leisure centre that had early evening classes. He figured that Wednesday’s class at six o’clock was a yoga session because when she walked towards the stop she would have what looked like a yoga mat under her arm.

He could see her. Immediately he felt uplifted, the fire blazing brightly once more as though a breeze of oxygen had been blown into the flames. As she walked along the pavement, Danny closed his eyes. It was a funny thing for him to do. Usually he would be totally absorbed by her and taking her in with as many senses as he could. Perhaps he’d closed his eyes in a vain attempt to cut himself off from her spell.

He heard her delicate footsteps as she alighted. He heard her soft, melodic voice as she said hello to the driver and ask for her ticket. He heard the exchange of coins and her ticket winding out of the machine before she then made her way to her seat.

Danny wished that he’d opened his eyes two seconds later than he actually did, for at that precise moment, Stella was walking past him in the aisle and
was looking directly at him
. An electrifying surge juddered through his body as his throat went dry and his palms went sweaty. He immediately looked away, instinctively scared about what may have been given away in that fleeting moment as she’d looked into his eyes. Connecting with her like that made him feel naked, like she was able to look deep within him at all the powerful feelings that flowed throughout his being. It was best to keep them hidden. She’d be freaked out if she truly knew about them.

He gazed out of the window, but still he could not escape her. He could see her reflection, and he could make out that she had decided to take the seat directly opposite him. So, instead, Danny gazed at the pattern of the headrest’s fabric in front of him. It was still no good as she hovered like a nebula in his peripheral vision. There was only one thing for it and so Danny shut his eyes once more.

The driver revved the engines and Danny felt a jolt as the bus started moving down the street. Why oh why was he here again? Why would he submit himself to this torture and soul-destroying frustration? There was no way in the world that she would ever be his now. There was no way that someone with such angelic beauty would even take a remote bit of interest in him in the first place.

Just at that moment, a curious thought struck Danny. Exactly what
did
he want? It had seemed too obvious before, but at this moment, he wasn’t sure if he could quite answer this question.

He knew how Larry would answer it. What else would he want to do besides going up to her room and having the most mind-blowingly passionate time with her that he could possibly imagine? But that wasn’t it exactly. These thoughts had gone through his mind, but not
that
often. So just what was it? Maybe he just wanted to
own
her. Maybe she was like some beguiling gemstone that he’d spotted on a beach and just had to have. Perhaps. She just seemed too delicate, too serene to be so physical with, like connecting with her in that way was too base, too crude. It seemed that there was something higher that was leading Danny in all this.

Something higher
.

Just what was the connection he was feeling with her? Why did she seem to get right into his very essence? Was it some sort of metaphysical part of his self that was dragging him along this journey, yearning for her? Danny sat up in his seat a little. It felt like these thoughts were leading him somewhere. Would it really be too crazy to think that he and Stella could be
lost
soulmates? There had to be a reason why the universe kept making their paths cross so often.

He dared another glance over at her. She was staring idly out of the side window. What the heck was he thinking?
I’m nothing to her!
Here was Danny thinking all these deep and wonderful thoughts and there she was probably wondering what she was going to get herself for tea. Or rather, what she was going to get herself
and her fiancé
for tea.

This had to be lust, so intense that he was mistaking these feelings for something else. Something that really was much more down to earth. He was going to have to do something about all this. He couldn’t keep catching this bus for one thing. That would be a start. Maybe he would have to get lost in his college work a little more. It certainly needed a lot more attention. So did his circle of friends. Danny had grown a little distant from them during the past couple of weeks. Maybe tonight he would go home and suggest they all go out for a drink, if not tonight, then soon. A lads’ night out. Straightforward, no hassle enjoyment. He knew he could always rely on his friends for that. Maybe he should even start looking at the other girls out there.

They continued to trundle down the road into the town. He knew how this would go. Stella would get off at the same stop as Danny. She would go one way down the street and he would go the other. He would casually glance over his shoulder as she got smaller and smaller in the distance, the fire dying down to a pile of meaningless ash.

But tonight when he got off the bus he would just keep walking. This time he wouldn’t glance over his shoulder at her at all. And this time next Wednesday Danny would already be home, arguing with Larry about whose go it was next on the Playstation.

Chapter 3.3

The spring semester was fluttering along languidly and Michael began to wonder if he’d made the right decision in choosing the subject of Halo of Fires for his Journalism assignment. But that was the thing with Michael, he was never any good at making decisions. It was the curse of being a Libra apparently, as he read in his horoscope that Friday morning:

Is life becoming a little too predictable? Or are you becoming a little too predictable with life? You don’t always need to take the same train route. Perhaps a change of your mental tracks will open up new possibilities to find the success you’re looking for. Don’t be afraid to make some firm decisions now and again!

He folded up the newspaper and pushed it aside. Somehow he had to focus himself. He was supposed to be reading the newspaper articles, not the extraneous crap that came with them. Still, he would perhaps save the crossword for later that evening, until Larry dragged him out to play pool.

He decided to take a break from studying and get a coffee. Friday mornings in the library were usually quiet, the ideal time to get in some quality study time, but Michael had other things on his mind.

He wandered down to the canteen, bought a decaf and a sausage roll, then sat down on one of the stiff, metal chairs. He could hear the radio set behind the till playing a Beatles tune,
All You Need Is Love
.

Lennon. Another Libra.

Michael reached into his bag and then brought out the letter that he’d received in the post this morning. There were five pages, ornately written words on summer sky blue writing paper. As he flipped through the pages, Michael caught the hint of a fruity perfume. It was another letter from his pen-friend Faridah whom he’d been writing to for nearly a year. They’d met when he was in the first year. She was an exchange student at the college and had attended church each Sunday. It hadn’t taken long for Michael’s eye to be caught by her exotic and sophisticated beauty.

She was his sweetheart, the only girl in the world. She lived in Lucca, in the Tuscany region of Italy. During their year of corresponding, they’d bared their souls to each other and grown closer despite the distance. The only problem was that after nearly a whole year they hadn’t had the chance to meet up again.

It would happen one day though. As soon as Michael had the time and the money, or as soon as Faridah was able, then they would get together. The others, particularly Larry, would rib Michael about it all the time. Of course, Michael was totally wasting the best years of his life on a girl who was over a thousand miles away. But Larry wouldn’t be able to understand what Michael and Faridah had.

The days of virtue and trust were gone now it seemed. Michael was a rare breed, one that still believed in being pure in his feelings, of nurturing the weakest links instead of voting them off, of not sexing everything up and putting everyone down. He still held on to his ideals, still imagined similar dreams shared by that certain other Libra whose voice he could hear right now.

Michael stroked his chin as he read over the letter for the third time that day. When he reached her signature and the seven x’s, he folded it up and carefully put it back into its envelope. It was time to put her out of his mind for now, to stop trying to solve that eternal conundrum about when and how they were finally going to meet up again. Time to concentrate on his assignment. He munched on the rest of his sausage roll and then washed it down with the coffee. Where to next?

Michael wandered off campus and found himself walking through the town centre, past the shoppers out buying milk and bread, and past the school kids queuing outside the chip shop. They were wearing Harbour High uniforms, the same badge that Michael had been wearing only four years ago. They all looked so young and so uncouth, constantly scuffling and fidgeting.

Was the story of the Tuckwell murders still to be found on their lewd lips, or was it all video games and
X Factor
? Maybe they wouldn’t care anymore anyway. Some school kids get murdered? They probably had it coming to them! They were obviously mixing with the wrong sort, working class scallies who don’t know better. Everyone in this town had been handed the power to judge, the means by which to seek retribution.

Michael continued down Lafford Street and wandered into his church, an empty Saint Anthony of Padua’s. He figured that before too long the doors wouldn’t be left unlocked. But, for now, Michael could go in whenever he needed some inspiration.

Standing by the ring of votive candles, he looked up at the grand painting of the Virgin Mary. She was standing on a mountain and beneath her was a fissure from which protruded a horn: the eternal battle.

He peered closer to the candles and saw their flames bend and cower under his breath. He suddenly remembered himself as six years old, a party hat on his head, a big chocolate birthday cake before him. Blowing out candles and his brother telling him to make a wish.

His wish as a twenty-year-old would be much different. Sometimes it was difficult to see any soul in this town at all. Michael didn’t know whether the Halo of Fires organisation were the ones to cause the poisoning of the Harbourian psyche or whether it had caused them. Sure they may parade themselves as moral crusaders these days, but back around the time when Michael was growing up, their reputation was much different.

They were evil anarchists.
Child killers
.

But how could he present to the world what he knew? He couldn’t write an article about a story handed down to him by his older brother, even if his brother had been a creditable source. He still needed more information.

After making some prayers, Michael continued with his spontaneous meandering. He found his feet walking towards the market place, opposite which was the town library. Perhaps there might be some information in the
Harbour Gazette
news articles, the archives of which were stored at the library.

The rumour at the time, echoed within the local press, was that the Tuckwell murders were part of a Halo of Fires hit that got out of control. The vigilantes had gone hunting for the grandfather, the adoptive guardian to the two brothers, but innocent youth was caught in the crossfire, a whole family exterminated. Or so the story went.

The younger brother’s body had never been found, but, even so, it still felt to be a dead end story. No doubt they’d just hidden his body in a good place. So what chance did Michael have of discovering what had happened to him if even the police had failed to find anything?