Box Set - Part Two - Chapter Twenty

What do I have to show for a year being dead?

My story is a long one, built on the bed of the friends I’ve made.

Elle, a girl who lives as a breath on the wind. To see the world in all its glory, in an infinity of time to live in.

Yates, the abused. Now, the loved. We live in his house most of the time.

Graham, the human ghost. I wonder has anyone else ever died without dying?

I remember the arguments. For hour after hour we’d try and convince Graham to go back. That we could find away. I think we all knew that he was stuck with us though. Our own fault for messing around with things we hadn’t a hope of understanding.

I sit out the back of Yates’s cottage, the expanse of English countryside spread out before me. I don’t think I could ever leave this country. We’re a nation of complainers. You can’t move for someone sniping about the weather, claiming depression on insubstantial grounds and whinging that they don’t travel enough.

If you just stop, for a second and take stock of your surroundings, take a trip and get lost in some lesser explored corner of our country, you find slices of heaven. Rolling hills, darkest woods, wilderness, heath, moor and miles and miles of the most beautiful coast.

Me and Elle saw a lot of it in those first few months searching for Penny. Do I think I’ll ever find her? I hope. She always wanted to travel, and I assume that’s what she’s doing now. Wandering the earth or the stars.

I look up at the sky and wonder something that often crosses my mind. Can we go up there? Does our existence as ghostly beings exist beyond this earth to others. Maybe she went up there. Maybe the universe is hers now.

The click of the back door behind me is unmistakeable.

I turn in my thick, wooden lawn chair and see Elle strolling out towards me.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘Whatcha doing, science boy?’ she says. ‘I’m so bored, Mr and Mr Public Display of Affection are hogging the living room.’

I roll my eyes. I remember the day they got together. On a beach in Fiji because Penny said she wanted to visit there once. Me and Elle went to explore and we return to find them in an embrace, lips locked in a passionate dance.

‘I’m glad they found each other,’I say. ‘ Especially Yates. He deserved a slice of happiness.’

Elle scrunches her lips. Just for a second, but long enough for me to see.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘We can’t keep skirting around the issue.’ She sighs. ‘Have you been to London lately? They’re having a resurgence in the search effort. He’s a missing person, he’s not supposed to be dead.’

I remember picking up a newspaper the week after our adventures after I died.

TEEN TRASHES ROOM AND DISAPPEARS

ABDUCTION OR A BRAT?

We’d even seen Graham’s parents, crying their eyes out of television, begging their son to come home. They’d always loved him, he’d just be wrapped too tightly in insecurities to see it. He read it as something untrustworthy.

‘Remember those tabloids?’ I ask.

Elle nods. Graham locked himself in his room for a week after they came out. Scores of people from school saying he’d had a tantrum and run away. A flurry of anti-teenager reports across the bright, loud newspaper pages with venom in the columns.

‘I don’t know what he expected,’Elle says. ‘People see through lies.’

Elle never approved of Graham staying dead. She wouldn’t say anything though, she was happy Yates was happy too.

‘It’s just a joke,’ she says. She bites her lip, takes a breath and starts to say something but thinks twice. It takes her a moment to continue. ‘People get life taken from them every day. They struggle to hold onto it. Graham had nothing wrong with him, nothing. And he just swans around like it’s the best thing that ever happened to him. It’s…it’s not fair.’

I look at her. The pink hair. The summer dress I know so well now. She puts her foot up on the table in front of us. A heavy clunk to communicate her distaste.

‘I just like to see people appreciate what they’re given,’ she says. ‘I don’t want to see a rich boy tantrum as a reason to throw his life away.’

‘He was bullied a lot,’ I offer.

‘And how much did he bring on himself?’

I nod. It’s true. Graham pushes people because he feels like his dad undermined everything he ever said.

‘We’ll make him see sense,’ I say. ‘Have you seen his face every time his parents are on TV these days? He used to look smug, but nowadays, I don’t know, I think there’s regret there.’

‘Well I’d be regretful too.’ Elle huffs and crosses her arms. ‘And have you noticed they haven’t left the house for a week now.’

I nod. ‘Yates has gone a full circle. I don’t even think he looks at his notes anymore.’

‘Honeymooning,’ Elle nods. ‘I know it well. I can’t tell you how many friends I lost to the honeymoon stage.’She does the sign of the cross.

I purse my lips. I’m sure me and Penny must have done that too.

Elle looks at me, then points an accusing finger. ‘You,’ she says. ‘You’re a honeymooner aren’t you.’

‘Not a bad one,’ I plea. ‘We found a balance.’

Elle raises her eyebrows like she’s working me out, sussing whether I’m a trustworthy source. ‘OK,’ she says slowly. ‘But I’m watching you.’

She looks out at the hills and forests in front of us. ‘Easton?’ She raises the inflection to make her word a question. ‘I’m bored.’

‘I think it’s quite nice here,’I say, stretching my feet out a little.

‘Quite nice? We’ve got all of eternity for ‘quite nice’, how about thrilling, exhilarating, death defying?’

‘We’re already dead.’

‘Don’t get snippy with me, science boy,’ she warns. ‘Come on, let’s go have an adventure.’

I make a sound like I’ve just woke up in the morning.

‘Come on,’ she says, elongating the words. She grips the arm of my chair and shakes it. ‘Play – with – me.’

I sigh. ‘I was getting used to the quiet life.’ I sit up, stretching my back out. ‘Where do you want to go? Mount Vesuvius? The Moon?’

‘Now, I won’t be taking cheek,’she says.

‘You get itchy feet don’t you,’I say, smiling.

‘I can’t help it,’ she replies. ‘I spent my life sitting in hospital rooms. I never had sex, never got a tattoo, nothing. Best I ever got was dying my hair pink, then that fell out. You can’t imagine how happy I was when I woke up dead and saw my reflection.’

I look at my best friend, rocking with the excitement to move. ‘Want to solve a crime?’

‘Ooh,’ she says, leaning back, a hand in the middle of her chest. ‘Easton, you entice me.’

‘Well I’ve been thinking for a few months now, we have powers. Superpowers you might say. Why not use them to do some good? Like we did with Yates’s step-dad?’

‘You’d better not be asking me to be your sidekick,’ she says. ‘Because that’s just not happening.’

‘Not sidekick,’ I reply. ‘Partner in crime-fighting?’

‘Better,’ she says. She jumps up. ‘We should probably ask the kissy twins if they want to join.’

We walk into the house and find them in their usual spot, on the sofa, fingers interlocked, legs intertwined.

‘We’re going out,’ I say. ‘Fancy joining?’

They look at each other, it really does put a smile on my face seeing Yates contented. I know if I closed my eyes I’d see his body light up with it. When I look at Graham though I feel the rising annoyance. Yates nods his head as if he wants to venture outside. And that’s a big step for him.

As soon as he does it, Graham steps in.

‘Oh, we were going to watch that film weren’t we,’ he says, visibly squeezing Yates’s hand.

‘Oh, we were,’ Yates says, settling back into the seat.

‘Can’t even be bothered anymore,’Elle mutters and walks through the door.

Graham follows her with his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching.

‘Make sure you get out at some point,’ I say. ‘I hate to sound like your mum but…y’know.’

The pair of them stare at me. The message is clear, the awkwardness is thick on the air, like too much butter spread on toast. My words trail off because I know they’re waiting for me to leave.

‘Well, see you then,’ I say.

I’m sure they’re all over each other as soon as I step through the door.

‘I hate honeymooners,’ says Elle. ‘Come on, I’ve got an idea.’

She holds out her hand and I gladly take it. Suddenly the smell of the country air has become a cloying stench in my nostrils. A change of scenery is just what I need.

I let her pull me into the Edge and take a breath of air when we step out.

‘Central Park,’ I say. ‘Nice, but why?’

‘New York,’ she says. ‘All we’ve got to do is find a police station, have a look at their noticeboard and we’re in the money. You know if we were real crime fighters, we’d have a police radio.’ She raises her eyebrows. The way she does when she’s being herself.

‘Elle, no,’ I say. She walks off ahead of me. ‘I said no!’

I look around. It’s Thursday. Tomorrow I’d be back here for my weekly game of draughts with Benjamin.

'You're not seriously going to steal a police radio are you?' I ask Elle, catching up to her.

 'No.' She laughs. 'But I've seen enough American TV to know that police stations have noticeboards with missing people on.'

 'That, could actually work,' I say.

 'I actually can't believe Graham,' Elle says, letting out a breath like she's been holding it. 'Did you see his smug face?'

 'I know,' I say. 'This is what he does.'

 'Why exactly were you friends?'

 'He was a friend when I needed it,' I say. 'When we arrived in London I had no friends at school and Graham was there.'

 'It's not even like it's our place to tell Yates or confront Graham,' Elle says. 'It's not our relationship.' She lets out an exasperated moan, shaking her hands by her sides. 'I thought I left social bullshit behind.'

 'Sorry,' I say.

 She claps me on the back. 'I think it's inescapable.'

 We know New York quite well. We've explored quite a lot in our year being dead.

 It doesn't take long to find a police station. We walk inside and cast around, looking for Elle's mystical noticeboard of missing people.

 The light inside is overly bright and I put up my hand to shade my eyes.

 'Over there,' Elle says happily. She strides to the other side of the lobby, to a huge green noticeboard plastered in print-outs, pictures and information.

 We stand in front of it and look for a crime to solve.

 'Oh my god,' says someone from across the lobby.

 We turn around. A woman, with scraped back hair and cheap jewellery, stares directly at us.

 'Did you see that?' she says, pointing. 'Look, look!'

 Slowly, other people start looking in our direction.

 'Easton,' Elle says. 'I don't like this.'

It's like that dream when everyone looks at you and you don't know why. Suddenly the very feeling of being seen makes my skin crawl. We're ghosts, we're invisible, yet everyone here stares at us like we're solid.

 'Easton, how is this happening.'

 Out come the cameraphones. The snapping of photos is too loud in the small, overbright space. Some people scream and run, others step closer to us. Our happy day out to do good has taken a very sharp turn south.

 Elle grabs my hand and grips it tight. 'Let's go,' she says. 'This is wrong, I don't like it.'

 'Where to?' I say.

 'Anywhere,' she says. 'I think we just haunted a police station.'