The Boy Who Could See Demons (25 page)

‘Is it something to do with Anya?’ I ask.

Ruen looks up from his fingernails and nods.

I feel a big wave of anger roll over me and I wrap my arms around my chest to keep warm. I’m shaking like I’m being electrocuted. ‘Get stuffed, loser,’ I say under my breath, because right now I hate his guts, and I turn around and start to walk through the curtains of rain towards my building.

Then Ruen appears right in front of me and I stop. My face is dripping wet and when I look up my eyes feel like someone’s pouring a jug of water into them. He’s Horn Head now, and I’ve never been this close to him when he’s Horn Head. The red horn doesn’t really look like a horn this close – it looks like it’s liquid. I feel sick.

‘It won’t upset Anya,’ he whispers in my head. ‘It’s a gift to her.’

‘A
gift?’
I shout. ‘Can’t you see, you tosser – I haven’t got any money! I’m only ten!’ I keep my eyes on the ground and walk past him.

‘Your mother needs you, Alex,’ Ruen says in my head.

I feel a pain in my heart but I keep walking.

But just then, flashes of Mum rise up in my head: the last time I found her, curled up in her own sick on our bathroom floor, her head really limp and her tongue hanging out like a dog’s. The time before that, when I walked into the kitchen and saw her at the sink, and I wondered why she was crying and chopping carrots, but she wasn’t chopping carrots and the sink was full of blood. And the time before that, when I was gagging for the toilet and she wouldn’t answer when I opened the door and she was in the bath, unconscious, her head about to go under the water.

And then I remember her watching me in the kitchen as I tried to make something called
gorgonzola and caramelised onion bruschetta
and then gave up and made onions on toast.

‘You’re so like him,’ she said, leaning against the door frame.

‘Like who?’

She looked at the food and smiled. ‘Your dad.’

And then I think of coming out of the church that day when we were supposed to be practising for the school Christmas concert. We were singing ‘Away in a Manger’ and I remember I was fed up from standing so long and a teacher let me go to the toilet, but when I got there a big wind was coming through an open door and so I went outside.

On the street outside the church there were lots of shops and people walking along the pavement. I saw a little girl eating crisps on the other side of the road and I thought maybe she’d give me some, but then I saw the policemen and I felt scared and then I saw the blue car. I had just wandered outside, right at the moment my dad arrived, like we were attached by an elastic band and turned up at the same time at the same place. I never told anyone I had seen him, not even Mum. I don’t even think Dad knew I was there. I remember what people said at the policemen’s funeral, that the man who killed them was evil and someone said he should burn and the policemen’s wives were so sad and the little girl would grow up without a daddy.

And then something else rises up in my head, and when it does I know it’s been buried in my brain for ages, like a needle that’s been stuck in a chair and poking people in the bum all that time but they didn’t know what was hurting them.

It’s my dad, shaking something heavy out of a black shiny bag and putting it inside the piano where there should be strings. I remember he was wearing a blue T-shirt and I can see his tattoo on his arm, the one with just letters. I couldn’t read then because I had just started school so I asked him what it said. He told me and I said, ‘What?’

He smiled. ‘It’s a group, Alex. It’s a group of men who believe in freedom.’

‘And killing,’ Mum said from the kitchen.

I was puzzled.

‘Are you in that group?’

My dad put the last thing in the piano and shut the lid. ‘Yep,’ he said. ‘And my dad was, and his dad, and his dad before that.’

In my head there was a big line forming of men I was linked to. Now that link reaches to me, only it’s not something I’m sure I want any more, and it’s like the link has split in two and it feels like I’m splitting down the middle.

I drop to my knees in the mud and start to cry. I cry so hard and the wind is so loud that I am able to scream out all the pain from way down in my belly and I know no one can hear me.

When I open my eyes, Ruen is still there, but he’s back to being the Old Man. I sigh in relief.

‘What sort of gift?’ I ask, wiping my eyes.

‘Follow me,’ he says.

Ruen leads me to a side door at the back of the building where Mum is staying. Another fire exit. I try the door but it is locked.

‘Be patient,’ Ruen says, and steps back. I take a few steps back too and wait at the corner. A few moments later, two nurses come outside. Just as the door swings shut I run forward and catch it. Then I slip inside.

I spot a toilet to my left and go have a pee, then use lots of paper towels to dry out my hair and clothes. By the time I finish I see that Ruen isn’t there. I open the door and look outside.

‘Ruen?’ I hiss.

There’s no answer.

I step into the corridor. Still no sign of him. My fingers wriggle like worms at each other and I feel my neck and cheeks get hot. How am I supposed to find Mum now?

I walk down the corridor, digging my squirmy hands in my pockets and keeping my head down. Nobody seems to be about. My heart is racing and I feel sick.

At the end of the corridor is a list of signs. I scroll down the list and feel very confused. Where is Mum again? Then I see the word
Psychiatry
and it looks familiar so I follow the arrow.

The arrow takes me down another long corridor, at the end of which are women’s voices. I stop at the corner and wait until I hear the voices stop, then walk very quickly round the corner.

‘Can I help you?’

I freeze. There is a long reception desk right there with the sign PSYCHIATRY hanging above and a blonde fat woman in a nurse’s uniform sitting behind it.

‘Uh,’ I say. I look around for Ruen.

‘Are you lost?’ the woman says. I nod. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ She tuts. She starts to get up from her seat to come around the desk to me.

I see my chance. I know Mum is just down the ward in a room to the right, four doors down, so I run past the woman and she yells ‘Hey!’ but I keep going until I reach the room. I push against the door but it is locked, so I stand on my tiptoes and look in through the small glass window.

I can see Mum inside. Her yellow hair is spread across the pillow and her face looks thin and she is fast asleep. I pound the door with my fists and yell, ‘Mum!’ but she doesn’t wake up. ‘Mum!’ I yell again.
‘Mum! Mum! Mum! Mum!’

Then all of a sudden there are two men beside me grabbing me by the arms and I yell, ‘Mum! I love you!’ and I see her open her eyes and look around but she doesn’t see me.

I don’t remember much after that. I know I cried and I begged them to let me see Mum and I bit one of the men on the side of his hand and then I ran but they caught me and threatened to thump me if I did it again.

They took me to another reception area where a security guard was waiting and he asked for my address. I told him, but instead of taking me back home to Auntie Bev he took me all the way back to the building I’d come from.

This time, when they put me in my room, they locked the door.

I got into bed, pulled the sheets around me, and shivered and stared for ages.

A long time later, Ruen showed up. He was still the Old Man.

‘Alex,’ he said, smiling as if he’d really missed me or something. I ignored him. He sat down by my feet and looked at me.

‘How was your mother?’

I said nothing.

‘Alex, do you remember that I organised a beautiful home for you and your mother to move into once you both recuperate?’

I thought of the pictures of the house Anya had brought me, the big back garden and kitchen. I felt excited at the thought of it but didn’t want him to see, so I just nodded.

‘And you said you would do something for me if I helped you find your mother this evening?’

I looked at him and glared. He could take a big hike off the tallest cliff.

‘Well, I already told you that the something would be a gift to Anya. But there’s something else now. For your mum.’

‘Don’t you
dare
talk about my mum,’ I shouted. ‘I didn’t get to see her. The door was locked. Now they’ll
never
let me see her!’

He swiped the air with his hand. ‘Oh, they will. You’ll see. Just wait until tomorrow morning, Anya will ensure that you get your visit. This is why we need to give her the gift.’ He paused. ‘And if you give her this gift from me, I’ll do something else for you, too.’

‘What gift?’

He stood up, glanced at the sketchpad in my locker and said, ‘Have you got a ruler?’

I nodded.

‘And a pencil?’

‘Yeah?’

He turned to face me, all serious. ‘I have composed for Anya a piece of music. She loves music so this will undoubtedly be a delight for her. It is composed in precisely the sort of style she prefers. When Beethoven and Mozart composed their opuses they always dedicated them to their friends, like Prince Karl von Lichnowsky and, on one occasion, Napoleon. I believe Anya should be pleased to possess a piece of music that is not only dedicated to her, but written especially for her. What I require from you is to write it out for me exactly as I dictate.’

I stared at him. ‘Whatever. What about the thing you’ll do for my mum?’

He sat down, coughed and lowered his eyes.

‘Has your mother ever mentioned your father, Alex? I mean, since he died?’

‘No, but she was really upset about it, that’s what landed her here in the first place. So if you think I’m going to bring that up—’

Ruen held up a hand. ‘No, no. What I was going to suggest was … well, you may as well know.’

‘Know what?’

He looked away and sighed very deeply. ‘Your father is in Hell.’

I felt like I’d just walked into a wall.

‘In
Hell?’

‘In the worst part of it, I’m afraid.’

My mouth opened and I went to speak but no sound came out.

‘What’s wrong, Alex?’ Ruen asked, and I shook my head because I couldn’t talk right then because my head was too full of memories about Dad. I remembered him coming to see us one day and he had a floppy black mask in one hand and a big heavy black bag in the other, and when Mum saw it she looked scared.

‘You can’t keep that stuff here,’ she’d said.

Dad threw her a wink and headed towards the piano in our hall. He lifted the lid and set the bag inside and the piano made a sound even though no one touched the keys.

‘What’s in the bag?’ I’d asked at the time.

‘Nothing you need to worry about,’ Dad said, and he ruffled my hair and lit a cigarette and told Mum she looked beautiful, and all the worry in her face went away.

And then I thought of the black mask and the blue car and the policemen. And I remembered what had happened after that. I remembered that Mum had cried and cried the day after and I knew that Dad had died. His face was in the newspapers and Mum warned me not to tell
a single soul
that he was my dad because then we’d be split up as a family and the headlines called him a
monster
and
evil
and said he should
rot in Hell
.

‘Dad’s really in Hell, isn’t he?’ I said to Ruen.

He gave me a long look that told me I was right.

I felt sick. Mum would be very, very upset if she knew this. I pulled the covers around my face.

‘Oh, worry not.’ Ruen groaned. ‘You write this piece for me as a gift to Anya, and I’ll release your father from Hell.’

I let go of the covers. ‘You can do that?’

He looked very offended. ‘Of course I can. Don’t you think that would make your mother very happy, knowing he isn’t in Hell? And I’m most certain your father would be grateful, too.’

‘So he’ll go to Heaven?’

Ruen grinned so wide I thought his face might crack.

Then I had a thought. ‘Why did you write music for Anya?’

Ruen narrowed his eyes. ‘The title is “A Love Song For Anya”, my boy. Doesn’t that give you a clue?’

‘But you don’t love Anya,’ I said. ‘You don’t love anybody. You’re a
demon
.’

Ruen sniffed. ‘Penetrating as always, Alex. The simple truth is that reality lurks in the senses. If we are to prevent Anya from separating you and I then we must make her question what she believes to be real. Your questions have already begun that process, but what she
hears
when she plays this piece of music will surely finalise her self-questioning.’

‘What the heck does
that
mean?’ I said.

‘Have we a deal?’ Ruen said.

I chewed my nails. I thought of Mum lying in that room, all by herself. She looked very small in the bed. I wouldn’t be able to tell her what Ruen had done for Dad, as she’d probably be very freaked out. But maybe, in a few years, I could. And she would be over the moon.

I nodded. ‘Deal,’ I said.

20

A LOVE SONG FOR ANYA

Anya

I grab a coffee on my way to the City Hospital. I go into the consultant office and look over Alex’s recent notes. Observations during administration of Risperidone seemed fine, except for one, tiny, microscopic detail:

Last night, Alex ran away.

He made it all the way out of the building, across the courtyard and into the adult unit, where he subsequently pounded on his mother’s door and sunk his teeth into a security guard.

I close my eyes and try to fill my head with the sights and sounds of the Caribbean. This is bad, bad news. It suggests problems with the security in this place, for certain, but it also indicates Alex’s instability and a whole swathe of negative reactions to his treatment. It will also look very bad on my report.

I look up to find Dr Hargreaves, a cognitive behaviour therapy specialist who works at MacNeice House two days a week, standing in the doorway of the office.

‘Alex is your patient, isn’t he?’ Dr Hargreaves says, glancing down his spectacles. We’ve spoken only a handful of times, and from the direction of previous chitchat I’m aware that he thinks I’m a psychotic disorder fascist.