The Fallen Parler: Part One (A supernatural mystery thriller) (16 page)

‘Well don’t look so bewildered,’ the blonde boy hissed, ‘I’ve marked the weak points of all parlers: the chest, the centre of the head, the gut and quite oddly, the palms of the hand. If you can stab a parler in any one of these places, you’ll manage to destabilise them… at least for a while.’

Felix opened Sasha’s fist, finger by finger, and placed the hand knife in her palm. Then, wrapping her hand into an enclosed fist again, he muttered, ‘shoot away, mere.’

Sasha positioned the pointed edge of the blade towards the ventriloquist dummy. Clasping one eye shut, the young woman studied her target. With impeccable smoothness, she flicked the blade into the air, sending it flying in a straight path. The blade gorged the centre of the ventriloquist’s head, puncturing the bullseye.

‘Brilliant!’ cried Felix, his blue eyes almost watering, ‘it’s a perfect bullseye!’

‘Where did you learn how to do that?’ cried Junior, baffled.

‘I used to play darts with my brother,’ blushed Sasha, ‘a lot.’

‘You have a gift!’ stammered Felix, ‘I’ve never hit such a perfect bullseye in 200 years!’

Struggling to uncork the hand knife from the ventriloquist’s head, Felix realised that Sasha had forced the blade a good seven centimetres deep.

‘Do it again,’ he ordered excitedly, passing Sasha the knife.

To the surprise of everyone in the room, Sasha hit the centre of the mark again… and again.

‘Unbelievable!’ Felix spluttered, every time Sasha hit the demarcated spots, ‘the mere has a gift!’

Sasha glowered at the eager blonde man, ‘my name is Sasha…not
the mere
,’ she muttered.

‘Old habits die hard,’ croaked Felix, leaping about the room excitedly.

Maybe there was hope after all, even the mere appeared to possess an astonishing skill. Cato would not be expecting an army of skilled teenagers waiting for him. Ecstatic with the progress of today’s lesson, Felix called out, ‘class dismissed!’

After the last three classes, Junior, Charlotte and Sasha had made it tradition to sit by Felix’s feet and listen to him describe his adventurous years as a parler. Each time, he taught them something new about parlery. On Monday, Felix revealed that once they were mature parlers, they would develop a strange hatred for garlic. In fact, just the smell would repel them.

‘Oh yes!’ cried Felix hysterically, ‘we’ve been many-a-time mistaken for vampires. All it takes is one freaky parler, like my old friend Vlad, to decide he felt like drinking blood, and there you go! Suddenly, they stop calling us witches and start calling us vampires.’

The youngsters were each astounded by Felix’s revelation. Today although, as Felix was just getting into the story, he heard a familiar set of creaking footsteps.

‘The maid, she’s coming!’ gasped Felix. He bolted over to Sasha; it took less than a second for them both to disappear into thin air. Luchia appeared at the door moments later and glared at the Roterbee’s, who were still curled over the floor beside the invisible man.

‘What are you still doing up?’ shot Luchia, ‘I thought I heard a voize.’

The housekeeper’s eyes widened as she scanned the room for the source of ruckus.

‘WHAT ON EARTH IS ZAT!?’ Luchia shrieked, gawking at the wide-eyed ventriloquist dummy and the hand knife that had been forcefully wedged into its head.

‘It’s not what it looks like,’ replied Junior, ‘we were just playing a game.’

Horrified, Luchia exclaimed, ‘zis is not what I call fun!’

Luchia strode to the freakish doll and hauled the blade from its head, ‘where did you get zis knife!’ she cried, ‘it’s not one of ours.’

‘It’s… it’s mine,’ Charlotte blurted.

Then suddenly, without opening his mouth, Junior gasped, which led Charlotte to believe that the invisible Felix and Sasha were struggling to contain their laughter somewhere about the room.

‘Miss Charley, I thought you were more sensible zan zis,’ scolded Luchia.

Charlotte, who was now meticulously searching all the possible directions to run her lie, gasped, ‘it’s for defence! I was scared, with all these killings and what not-’

Secretly impressed with her own performance, Charlotte sighed, ‘I wasn’t planning to use the blade…only to keep it, in case I was attacked.’

Then, staring directly at Luchia with elongated puppy-like eyes, she murmured, ‘I’m sorry.’

Charlotte could sense that, somewhere about the room, Felix was attempting, with all his might, to refrain from howling out loud at her praiseworthy act. His blue eyes were, no doubt, leaking tears of laughter. Tucking the blade into her apron, Luchia muttered, ‘Miz Charley, you have done a bad thing. Count your lucky stars zat it was not Dr. Willow who found you, otherwise you’d probably be grounded till the end of ze month, and barred from ze Winter Ball!’

‘Sorry,’ Charlotte murmured again, ducking her head so that Luchia would not see her smirking.

‘Very well.’

Luchia tiptoed out of the room and soon, the muffled creaking sounds of the staircase confirmed that the housekeeper was a safe distance away. Felix and Sasha materialized at the corner of the room. As Charlotte had predicted, Felix’s eyes were wet with tears of laughter.

‘Bravo,’ he bellowed, ‘what an act! If only you hadn’t let the maid steal my knife, I would’ve given you an A plus…no worries, I’ll just steal my blade back tomorrow.’

Glancing at the clock warily, Sasha exclaimed, ‘it’s nearly 11pm…we’d better get going!’

‘I’ll only go if Ma Joelle promises to stop whacking me with that walking stick,’ sighed Felix. ‘I’ve tried to explain to her that I’m not Cato’s evil accomplice, but she will not have it.’

‘She’s just not used to visitors,’ chuckled Sasha, ‘especially not supernatural ex-murderer visitors.’

Junior and Charlotte laughed in unison at the thought of Ma Joelle pounding Felix with her walking stick. It was no wonder that Felix preferred to sleep on the couch at the Willow Lodge, where he was undetected by both Luchia and the Doctor. Nevertheless, Felix followed as Sasha lowered herself from the window to the tiled roof. These days, Sasha did not require the fencing for balance, but lunged directly into the front lawn. Felix, who was not as experienced, stumbled down clumsily. Charlotte watched from the window as Sasha and Felix walked into the distance, they would soon become invisible.

‘The Bukhari Brothers’

The following morning was not unlike usual mornings at the Willow Lodge. Luchia went about her business, and Dr. Willow was absolutely unaware of the fib that Charlotte had, so flawlessly, delive
red to Luchia the night before. Somehow, it bothered
Charlotte that Dr. Willow could not detect Felix’s presence at all. The possibility that Dr. Willow was a mere occurred to Charlotte many times. However, Charlotte had never seen the doctor with any sapphire-bound jewel, which, as Felix explained, would be a compulsory accessory for meres who dabbled in parlery. The most logical reason as to why the doctor never detected Felix was that the invisible blonde boy almost always assumed a state of invisibility which even parlers could not perceive. Felix only ever phazed into visibility when he was alone with the three youngsters. He’d lived a peculiar life of eavesdropping, stealing and travelling as he wished; being invisible had its undeniable advantages. Aside from being exiled by Cato, Felix rarely ever talked about the negative side of parlery; it appeared to most that he had lived a very self-serving life. This must’ve been the reason why Felix never wiped the freakish grin from his face. He wore that very same grin today. The invisible man beamed excitedly as the Roterbee twins approached St. Andrew’s gate, where he and Sasha had been waiting. Felix, who was unperceived by all the budding secondary school children, pickpocketed them as they passed.

‘Up to your old tricks?’ said Charlotte, startling Felix. He drew some shiny coins from a year 7’s backpack and closed the coins in his fist, ‘I need to get by somehow,’ he muttered.

‘What are you doing here anyway…parlery classes are in the evening, remember?’

Curling one eyebrow, Felix snapped, ‘am I expected to lament about the house all day, waiting for you to get home? Prior to this whole arrangement, I did have a life you know.’

‘I told him to come,’ said Sasha, ‘that way we’ll be able to keep an eye on him. Plus, he’s invisible … what harm could he do?’

Glaring at Felix apprehensively, Charlotte replied, ‘fine, but I don’t want any trouble from you.’

Felix smirked triumphantly. When they entered the congested school hallway, Felix whispered, ‘1825.’

‘What does that date mean to you?’ asked Junior.

‘19th February 1825 was the last time I spent a full day at this school. That was the day I transitioned.’

*

For the first half of the morning, Felix abided by Charlotte’s wish and kept himself out of trouble. He sat behind any unoccupied classroom desk and listened to the teacher attentively. He attempted to decipher the changes in the education system between the 1800’s and the modern ages.

‘Back in my day, you would’ve been whipped senseless for that,’ Felix whispered at Charlotte. He was speaking of the mocking note that Ricky Grimshaw had cellotaped to Monsieur Antionne’s ass which said
‘Smack me.’
Charlotte nodded, unwilling to respond verbally. Beau Bennet catching her laughing with herself was the last thing Charlotte wanted. The mysterious break into the school’s kitchen, which occurred a week before, was still a heated topic of discussion. Mrs. Quabble had no evidence to pin it on Sasha or Junior, yet they were at the top of her list of suspects (given their yet-to-be explained discovery of Mr. Williamson’s corpse). The deputy headmaster watched them between lessons, with the eyes of a hawk. Meanwhile, the upcoming Winter Ball was still at the forefront of most student’s minds. By this stage, those students who had not yet secured dates were nicknamed ‘
the undateables’
. Many times, Sasha warned that securing a date for the Winter Ball was of equal importance to defeating Cato. Charlotte, who had little interest in the ball, took Sasha’s grumbles with a pinch of salt. When last period arrived, the trio dispersed to their different classes (Sasha to Art, Charlotte to Chemistry and Junior to Physical Education). Felix chose to tag along with Junior, whom he felt appreciated his presence more.

‘So who is your date to the Winter Ball?’ pried Felix, cornering Junior in the boy’s lockeroom.

‘I haven’t got one…why would I care about a ball when Cato –’

‘Oh forget Cato!’ bawled Felix, ‘Cato can be dealt with anytime, but you only get one Winter Ball.’ Gazing up at the ceiling animatedly, as if he was recalling a distant memory, Felix said, ‘I remember my own Winter Ball, the winter of 1824. My date was the fairest girl in the town, Rebecca Lovely…and lovely she was. I’ll never forget how nervous I was to ask her. Back then, it was common courtesy for the man to propose. So, the feeble little mere I was, I asked her to the dance.’

‘What did she say?’ asked Junior, scanning the lockeroom for any rowdy footballers who could catch him talking to himself.

‘Yes, of course! I can’t blame her. I am, after all, irresistible to the female species,’ purred Felix, stroking his face suggestively, ‘my point is, when you want something, you should go for it… and I see the way you look at the mere girl.’

‘Sasha?’ blurted Junior, incredulously.

Rolling his eyes, Felix replied, ‘… and I see the way she looks at you, too.’

‘We’re friends, that’s all!’ snorted Junior, ‘asking her out would be weird. It’d be like asking out my sister.’

‘But Sasha is not your sister... if I were you I’d hurry up and ask her before somebody else does.’

‘I’ll think about it,’
grunted Junior.

The shadow of a brawny, well-built male filled the boy’s lockeroom. Glancing up, Junior recognised him instantly, it was the captain of the football team, Ricky Grimshaw.

‘Junior!’ called Ricky, ‘just the man that I was looking to catch alone.’

Felix, invisible to Ricky’s eyes, shuffled over as the bulky teen filled the bench space next to Junior. Patting Junior on the back, Ricky said, ‘good news, my friend…you’ve made the team!’

‘You won’t regret this!’ cried Junior, ecstatic.

Back when Junior auditioned for the team, he was certain that he’d not played his best. Try-outs were held two days after Williamson’s death, which was all Junior could think about during the entire match. Nevertheless, Grimshaw must’ve seen some potential in his playing to offer a place on the team.

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Ricky, ‘I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about something for a while now.’

‘Fire away!’

Grinning mischievously, Ricky whispered, ‘I’ve noticed that you’re really friendly with Sasha Fling …and I’ve kinda had this crush on her since year 7.

Reddening slightly, Ricky babbled, ‘I was just wondering if … if you know whether she’s got a date to the Winter Ball.’

The sound of Felix’s jaws dropping could almost be heard, and without a thought, Junior blurted, ‘as a matter of fact she
does
have a date.’

‘Oh,’ frowned Ricky, ‘that’s too bad…who’s she going with?’

Disoriented by his own lie, Junior replied, ‘I wouldn’t know. I just remember her saying that she has a date…you know how girls are, they can go on and on and on about something. I just let it go in through one ear and out of the other.’

‘Well she sure kept that one quiet,’ muttered Grimshaw, dejectedly.

Soon after, the chants of the rowdy team members filled the halls and they appeared at the door, grizzly from their fierce game of football. Grimshaw high-fived all of the members as they passed, attempting to rebuild what was left of his ego.

Felix observed the young men of the modern generation, silently gasping at their scandalous locker room gossip, and their horrid
‘who can fart the loudest?’
contests.

Junior, whose mood was just as deflated as Ricky Grimshaw’s, did not know what had come over him, or why the lie
‘Sasha already has a date’
slid so naturally from his tongue. The idea of Sasha being taken to the ball by anyone else, especially a mindless ball player with two left feet, made his stomach turn. Maybe Felix was right. Maybe Junior had developed feelings for Sasha. For now, it was too early to tell whether his white lie was merely a result of heightened emotions from sleepless nights awaiting Cato’s arrival. Or pure jealousy, a vice that all normal teenage boys encounter occasionally. After all, Grimshaw was the captain of the best football team in Shorebridge, and made every girl in the school weak at the knees. Through his lie, Junior had unknowingly formulated a ghastly conundrum. If things panned out as he had planned, Grimshaw would not give Sasha a second glance (given that he believed she already had a date). Junior imagined the consequences of Sasha catching wind of what he’d done. If Sasha ever found out that he’d ruined her one chance of securing a date with Ricky Grimshaw, she would never forgive him. Junior, who was one step ahead, would never let it get to that. Felix was the only other soul who knew what he had done, and Junior expected it to stay that way.