Beneath the Elder Tree (11 page)

   ‘I believe in you, Tim. It was such a shock to see him like that. Too much has happened in such a short space of time for me to understand and make sense of it all.’

   ‘Everything will make sense in the fullness of time.’ His fingertips ran along my arms, sending warm vibrations through my soul. ‘You’re right, too much has happened these last few days. You need time to settle into your new life. Maybe time away from me would be for the best.’

   ‘I don’t think that’s the answer. I need less confusion. I need this world to feel normal before I can think reasonably about the things that happen around me.’

   ‘I’ll help you settle in. I’ll make sure the world around you is calm. Then we can learn from one another and share what we have to share. We can discover the limits of this existence together.’

   I ran the palm of my hand over his cheek, wanting to kiss him, wanting to have this beautiful being at hand forever, to exploit and love whenever I wanted.

   ‘When I’m stronger,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you all that you ever dreamed of when I’m strong once more. Leave me for now, Lucy. Go to your chosen. I’ll return when I am myself again.’

   ‘Will you stay out of trouble?’

   ‘I will,’ he nodded. ‘I hope you will do the same?’

   ‘What trouble could I get into?’

   ‘There is trouble to be found in that old house at the edge of Millbrook. I would rather you didn’t visit that place again.’

   ‘I want to know who killed Josh.’

   ‘You still suspect me?’

   ‘No. I know it was a mortal. I remember seeing his footprints in Josh’s blood - the traces of a mortal killer.’

   ‘Then why bother yourself with it? Why is the death of an evil mortal of interest to you?’

   ‘Because there is a darker evil that roams the mortal world. Don’t pretend you don’t know of it, Tim. Someone has been killing off people for months. The living know him as The Rosehill Ripper. I think that’s who murdered Josh.’

   ‘I am aware of that name. I still don’t see why you bother yourself with it. Mortals do this sort of thing. Some are wicked and violent. It’s not our business. Surely Emily warned you not to get involved with living people that do not concern your chosen.’

   ‘This killer does concern my chosen. Laura’s home falls within his territory. My job is to protect her, and if that means I must find this murderous bastard, then I might have to assume that responsibility.’

   ‘No.’ Tim’s face became dull and stern. His eyes flushed red and he stormed away from me. ‘You say you want normality and safety, yet now you want to get involved with the living again. This course of action could draw out the shepherd once more. Is that what you want? I’m not sure we can survive another encounter with him so soon.’

   ‘Why would the shepherd want to punish me for protecting my chosen? That is my role here.’

   ‘The shepherd knows no reason, Lucy. There is no compassion within it.’

   Tim was wrong. He was blinded by his hatred for being banished by the shepherd. I had felt the compassion of the shepherd only hours before. He was not friendly - and he certainly was a ruthless entity - but he was not entirely wicked and unreasonable.

   ‘Won’t you take my advice?’ he asked, kneeling in front me again. ‘Let’s allow our lives to calm down for a few days. After that, if you still feel this way, then we can find the ripper together. Deal?’

   ‘All right, Tim,’ I said as he grabbed my hands and lifted me to my feet. ‘We do have one more problem that we might have to address…’

   ‘What’s that?’

   ‘There’s an old black spirit hanging around. I met her once before, on the freeway leading into the city. Her name is Mia.’

   ‘Mia? She’s insane. Nothing more than a nuisance. This is not something you need to be worrying about.’

   ‘I saw her this morning, Tim. She know about us - about our intimacy. She’s watching us. Mia is very fond of sharing secrets with anyone willing to listen. I wouldn’t like her to share this particular secret with the shepherd.’

   ‘I’ll take care of her.’

   ‘What does that mean?’

   ‘I’ll have a word with her. Mia won’t share anything with the shepherd anyway. She hates him more than anyone.’

   ‘I still don’t think we can trust her.’

   ‘I said I’d take care of it.’ Tim leaned into me and his lips touched mine. ‘Nothing will ever hurt you as long as we are together.’

   We shared a brief embrace before parting company. Tim crossed the river and made his way towards the city that stood tall above the bridge. I waited under the arch and watched him disappear into the labyrinth of towers, then wasted no time in starting back towards Millbrook.

   The world felt empty as I crossed those fields. I would be alone until Tim was ready to return to me. The prospect of being on my own made me want him more than ever. I’d always been so independent in life. Now I felt like a leech, one of those girls who couldn’t do anything unless their boyfriends told them to. Was my attraction to Tim so strong because I felt alone? Or was this something so special that being away from it, even for a short time, felt like death? The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that this little break would be a good thing. I needed to start thinking clearly, and for myself, without the advice of others. I had always trusted my own intelligence and instincts. I would have to force myself to invest in that trust once more.

- CHAPTER TWELVE -

The Dark World

My mood was polarised throughout the week that followed, as was my view of the world and what remained of my life. Eight times mirror world faded into night world and still there was no sign of Tim. I often went to the rooftop, in the dead of night when Laura was in deep sleep, and watched the distant lightshow of the city and wondered where he was and what he was doing. There was more to him than he showed. There was a secret inside Tim that he kept well hidden at all times. His many masks disguised it, but couldn’t hide it completely. The fact that he could disappear for an entire week was proof that he had a second life of some sort. Did I want to see what was under that attractive shell of his? No was the simple answer. No, I wanted to lose myself in the arousal and security that he offered. Emily had warned me not to stray from the path, but I had never set foot on that path in the first place. I had found Tim before my life as spirit guide got started. I was less than two weeks in the mirror world and I had already come to the realisation that I still valued my own life more than Laura’s. I was living and thinking like a mortal being. I should have been ashamed for feeling that way. I didn’t. All I could think of was Tim and the many wonders that he represented.

   From time to time I watched Laura interacting with her mother. It was tedious and predictable. A typical dysfunctional relationship. How could I be content to watch this from behind the frosted glass of the afterlife? This was no existence. This was simply a prolonged death. I knew I would eventually grow resentful towards my charge if her life did not assume some purpose.

   My mood was not helped when, on the third day, I sat next to Laura as she watched TV. A news report was detailing the discovery of three bodies in a hotel in the city. All the victims had been beheaded, like Josh had been. All three were in different rooms of the hotel when it happened and were not known to one another. The reporter said the murders were believed to be the work of the ripper who had been stalking the area for months - the same individual who had murdered a young man in Millbrook days earlier. The bulletin awoke a ravenous anxiety in me. It was a sickening sensation that took more than two days to shake off.

   That’s how the week started out. I was resentful of all around me, with only brief moments of elation - whenever night world rise like a phoenix from the grey ash of its glum twin. On the third night I wandered the surrounding roads of Millbrook. These were empty highways with only streetlights for company. The loneliness was intense. Nothing in human life could prepare anyone for such isolation. I was akin to a endangered animal, roaming the wilderness for a mate, finally accepting that it was the last of its kind and would be forever in solitary voyage. I sat on the side of the road that stretched out to the city and considered following it to its end. This was not just directionless wander. No, I was about to make a decision. To stick to the road meant I was going in search of Tim. It would mean I was abandoning Laura - a course of action that would be deemed a sin by the shepherd. Another crossroads in life was before me.

   By dawn I had journeyed back to Millbrook and was sitting next to Laura in the apartment. Emily’s nineteen years in the mirror world would have been for nothing if I had gone to the city. It was through my debt to her, rather than my connection with Laura, that forced me to return to my guiding duties. I watched Laura’s face come to life as her dreams rolled back, and I think it reminded of the moment we made the bond, in the aftermath of Emily’s death. Guilt washed over me for being so selfish. I had to start doing the right things. By allowing myself to become depressed and bitter I was surely on a collision course with the shepherd. I had to change. I had to act responsibly.

   My mood was altered entirely that day. Laura was content to sit in the dingy apartment until I forced my will upon her and convinced her to leave her home. I had not suggested any particular task or direction. I just wanted to get free of the draining atmosphere in the apartment for a few hours. To my surprise, she headed straight for the nearest bus shelter and within the hour I was sitting next to her on a bus headed for the city. Her demeanour had been dour until we broke free of Millbrook. She brightened right up once she was surrounded by a more balanced vision of society.

   The bus meandered through a maze of streets as it made its way into the heart of the city. The pavements were full of busy mortals, all blurred and colourless. Laura was so vibrant in comparison, which strengthened my belief in her. I could draw some hope from her because I could see how unique she was. She needed protection from the world around her. She needed me. I also needed her, for I realised on that journey that I was not the last of dying breed - far from it.

   I spotted two spirits as the bus got caught up in the gridlock. One was like me, a guide. He looked young, was handsome and sparkled with positive aura. I went to the window and waved, as Tim once waved to me. I probably looked as desperate and vulnerable as he did that day. Thankfully the dashing guide didn’t see me. His attention was fully focused on a young mortal who was begging from the shade of a doorway. Perhaps my job wasn’t as difficult as it could have been.

   Soon the bus rolled on and hit the busiest of section of the city centre. That’s when I noticed the second spirit. This one was very different to me. It was a ghost. It stood tall above the heaving mass of shoppers and was draped in black. His face was flat and pale as bleached bone. His eyes were barely visible from the blackness under his eyebrows. Only a slight white twinkle gave any hint of them. I watched him carefully. A hateful glower never left his face as he monitored those who filed past him. This was the type of ghost that Emily warned me about. I was relieved when the bus moved to the next street.

   It wasn’t long before Laura got off the bus and hurried along the bustling pavements. I kept close her to and monitored her every move. She appeared to be directionless until she pushed open the door to a quaint book store. Her eyes lit up as she scanned the countless spines that presented themselves to her hungry mind. My own mood was also uplifted. There was serenity in this place, unlike most of the living world that was hectic, chaotic and unkind. I stood close to Laura as she took two books to a leather couch in the quietest corner of the store. She smiled, full of contentment as she read with her inner voice.

   I hated her reading taste though, and soon grew bored with the words that passed from her mind to mine. I wandered the store, scanning the others mortals who had entered for rest bite from reality. The owner of the store, a middle-aged woman with long grey hair and a weathered face, snagged my interest. Her mind was a cauldron of knowledge. Through her intellect she was almost psychic, able to read and understand people simply by watching their body language and facial expressions as they read her books. There was more to the living world than I had thought. There was also more to the spirit world than I thought…

   I made a remarkable discovery about myself as I leaned against one of the shelves. My spirit body backed onto a few dozen books and my mind went into instant riot. A thousand voices screamed directly into me. It was so disorientating that my body lost cohesion and I melted into the floor, through the boards and pipes and bolts beneath, and dropped into the dusty basement. It took a few minutes to get my bearings and to focus on the shapes around me. There were more books. These were randomly stacked, made into blocks with twine.

   What had made me lose control? I simply leaned against the books and a wave of voices had called out to me. I was almost afraid to be near the books, but my curiosity soon got the better of me. I reached out cautiously and allowed the tip of my index finger to touch the cover of one of the old novels. The story contained within the pages was sucked inside me, like I was a hard-drive drawing information from a disk. The characters, plot, conversations, tragedy and laughter of the story filled me for a moment before leaving me cold, with only memories of it whispering in the shadows of my consciousness. My fingertip slipped over the book’s gloss cover and landed on another. Its story leaped into me.

   I read over a hundred books within five minutes. I had a new found hunger for the spirit world. Surely there were more hidden treasures like this. Why had Emily not told me about these things? I remembered her sitting in Laura’s room, on the night we found her, running her fingers over the books in the corner, seemingly in a daze. She knew of this, yet failed to share it with me. Perhaps she wanted me to discover this for myself. What else had she chosen not to confide in me? How many mysterious wonders did this world actually hold?

   It frustrated me that I was still the novice, not knowing what each day would deliver. I couldn’t dwell on it, though; I had to get back to my chosen before she left the store. I ascended through the old building and found Laura at the till, passing over crumpled notes to the wise owner, who smiled in approval that there were others like her, that were drawn to her. It delighted me that I had found the book store. I would direct Laura to this place as often as I could in the future.

   I followed her through the inner city, not influencing her in any fashion. I wanted to see where she would go of her accord. I was pleasantly surprised when she reached her next destination. It was a music shop that I had visited many times during my teenage years. The old wooden acoustic guitars lined one side of the room, the dynamic shapes of the electrics faced them from the other side of the floor, like two generations preparing to do musical battle. I spied drum kits in the next room, and a grand piano stood nobly further into the shop. Laura gazed at the electric guitars, but inside she knew she couldn’t afford one, and she wouldn’t be permitted to play it by her mother. Grace didn’t strike me as someone who appreciated music, especially the clumsy efforts of someone learning how to play a loud instrument.

   Laura sat with a dark coloured acoustic guitar on her lap, dug out a plectrum from the back pocket of her jeans and began to strum. Other, more experienced, musicians in the shop turned to her, rolling their eyes at how unimaginative her efforts were. Musicians can be snobbish at the best of times, especially to their own kind. A skinny guy, dressed creatively, was facing Laura with a Fender guitar balanced on his right thigh. His majestic style was fast, unpredictable and loud enough to drown out Laura’s shy tune. Neither made eye contact, but it was clear that they were communicating. He was showing off, making her aware of his superiority. She was making him aware that she was committed by not stopping. He did show her a little respect by pausing every now and then, so that her music could break free of his. I wished in that moment that I could be mortal again, to show this arrogant young man that a girl could be his equal, or his better. I settled for the next best thing.

   The lanky musician was stunned when Laura hung the acoustic up on the rack, then paced to the electric section and pulled down a Gibson SG. Oh, the audacity of this youngster, he must have thought. He stopped playing completely when she plugged the electric guitar into an amplifier behind her. What he could not see were my arms wrapped around Laura’s. My hands sinking under her wrists. My fingers within hers. My mind was in control of her actions. My song filled the room. It was the last one I ever wrote. Simple but original strumming between G-major, E-major, A-minor, A-major, followed by an erratic plucking arrangement that was like mercury rolling in the ear drums of anyone who cared to listen. Back when I was mortal, I believed this tune would catapult me to stardom.

   There was some hope for the living. The older musician stood, yanking up his trousers at the back, before giving a nod of approval to my chosen. Laura, who had been in a daze of sorts, took a deep breath as I withdrew my spirit hands from hers. She bowed slightly, embarrassed by the sudden attention she was receiving from people she dreamed of being like. She was the centre of attention until she left the store. She was the centre of attention for the first time in her life, and it certainly awakened a hidden confidence in her. She strutted with her head held high that afternoon, and had a buoyancy about her that caught boy’s eyes as she passed them. It had been a day of discovery for us both. A little triumph in the attrition of life - and afterlife.

   I was brought back to the reality with a thump as soon as we reached the top floor of the block. Grace was sprawled across the couch with a tall glass of gin in one hand and the TV remote in the other. She flicked from one station to the next so fast that she couldn’t register what was on each one. Faces rapidly appeared and disappeared, like watching the windows of a train as it whizzes by. I had sensed her mood before we even entered the apartment. It was grim. It was nasty.

   ‘More books?’ This wasn’t a question. It was an observation that she wanted to share with her daughter. ‘Better go to your room before it gets dark, Laura.’

   ‘Why?’ Laura asked wearily. ‘Why do you have to be cruel to me? I’ve given you space. You’ve had the apartment to yourself the whole day. Now I’m only in the door and you’re nagging me.’

   ‘Learn to take a joke.’

   ‘The only joke here is you.’

   ‘What?’ Grace lifted her head off the arm of couch and her red rimmed eyes became fixated on her daughter. ‘I’m a joke to you, am I?’

   ‘I don’t want a fight, Grace,’ Laura replied, shaking her head despondently. ‘Just leave me alone.’

   ‘I wish I could.’ Grace rested her head back on the arm of the couch and returned her attention to the TV.

   ‘Bitch,’ Lara whispered under her breath as she locked herself in her room. ‘I hate that bitch. Why am I trapped in this place with her? When will I be free of this hell?’

   I spoke directly to her, telling her it would be all right, even though I had no idea of what the future held in store. The future was as intangible as it always was. A random series of events dictates the path that every mortal walks. Spirits suffer the same unpredictability. My influence waned that evening, and Laura went into a depression and sobbed silently into her pillow. Why was my power to connect with her fading? Maybe it was simply that I didn’t believe what I was telling her. I really didn’t know if everything was going to be all right. I didn’t know if her future would be wholesome. Just because she had been chosen by some higher power didn’t mean she was in for a good life. I too had been chosen and had died three months after my nineteenth birthday. I had never achieved anything meaningful in mortality. How did I know if Laura’s fate was to be any better than my own?