Box Set - Chapter Thirty-Three

It strikes me that though Tarquin had said that they needed help to get ready for Teague’s recital, what with the absence of anything in the way of chairs, a stage or indeed anything that would be useful in a recital situation, there wasn’t a lot to do.

                On account of this fact, I spent the day rooting around for information from the town’s residents. Upson was right in the way that the elderly liked to talk. I had been given the life stories of four different residents, quite happily sitting there and watching the sands roll by, when I decided to find my friends again.

                It could never be said that anyone was unhappy here. The people who could remember life on earth spoke of it fondly and with happy remembrance of their time before. A lot of them spoke with a great fear of the spinning darkness between here, there and the places that lay beyond. This meant that the vast majority had grown an attachment to the town through the fear of that and nothing else.

                This is by no means an evil place. Even now I found myself dragged in by the peace. No one ever seems to argue here, for there is nothing much to argue about. Spates are settled quickly and are usually formed around a high school type of love related arguments. I ran into Elle at one point who observed, quite rightly that it was bound to happen: There’s not much else to do here.

                I walk across the square again, seeing that the blazing sun casts long shadows towards me. I step into one and savour the moment of cool air before the close heat traps me again. People are already gathering themselves into rows for the singing. I realise that I haven’t seen Teague all day long and his absence is really beginning to bother me.

                I run into Yates near the front. He stands with a group of older men. I have to remind myself of his actual age and consider that these are people that he probably feels instantly comfortable with. I silently hope he’s not starting to enjoy life here. There’s more for Yates in the world than sand.

            ‘Easton,’ he says. ‘I was just talking about you.’

                I bite my tongue as the words ‘Only good things I hope’ poise themselves on my lips, ready to be pushed over the top. Is this what middle age feels like? Have I become old before my years.

                I begin to consider how much years matter anymore, I’m not exactly going to look any different as they roll past.

                ‘This is Orson, Samad and Brady,’ he explains. ‘They died in a fire together.’

                ‘Oh god, I’m sorry,’ I say before I can stop myself.

                ‘No use troubling yourself there,’ says the man Yates indicated was Orson. He’s tall, with a long, pale face. If I were someone who believed in such things, I would have said he was a vampire. ‘I can’t even remember how long ago it was now.’

                ‘We here you’re venturing back to the mortal coil, so to speak.’ Brady speaks with a thick Texas accent. He’s rotund to the point of popping the buttons on his shirt. I wonder why his mind didn’t shed a few pounds when he died?

                ‘Yes, after the singing,’ I reply. ‘Why?’

                ‘We’d like to come with you,’ Brady continues. ‘There are quite a few of us here who would like to see some real places again, if you know what I mean.’

                ‘Why didn’t you go before now?’ I ask.

                Samad pipes up. He’s the youngest of the three, but still older than Yates or I. I know so as his dark hair is the only one not streaked with grey.

                ‘You’ll understand that people are afraid,’ he says. ‘We’ve never had a mass exodus before. Safety in numbers and all that. I suppose people think that if we’re all together, there’s less chance of losing each other along the way. You’ve caused quite a stir.’

                I’m beginning to wonder why we seem to cause a stir wherever we go? I wonder what would have happened if I’d just decided to stay put, find an old manor house on a moor somewhere and decided to haunt it until I was run out or exorcised or something similar.

            The three men are needed elsewhere and are hailed by a shout from across the square. They make their excuses and promise to meet us after the recital. I turn to Yates.

                ‘Tarquin’s going to hate us isn’t he.’

                Yates nods. ‘Probably. But it’s not like you’re leading an exodus. He can’t make you out to be Moses or something.’

                ‘I’m not leading anyone?’ I reply. ‘I just want to go and people are following.’

                ‘You mean the definition of leading people.’ Yates smiles. ‘Like it or not, Easton. You’re a leader. You  jumped in to save me for one, that’s some pretty strong evidence. You know what’s right.’

                I’m taken aback by his complimentary honesty. ‘I-I just try to do the best thing, I never want to cause any trouble. And really, don’t you think Elle’s the leader in this group?’

                Yates laughs. ‘Just because you’re a leader doesn’t mean you’re the strongest out of us.’

                I have to agree there. Elle’s resilience to carry on living shows her strength more than anything. I resolve once more to help her find her father, even if it’s just to see him alive and well wherever he’s now stationed.

                As though she were summoned by the very mention of her name, her bush of pink hair sweeps between us.

                ‘Are you two just going to stand here all day?’ she asks. ‘This thing’s going to start in a minute.’

        ‘What do you think we should do?’ Yates looks around at the absence of jobs. Most people’s idea of preparing for the recital seems to include standing around talking about it.

‘Well, find Teague seems to be the obvious choice,’ she replies. ‘I haven’t seen him since the pair of you returned from the arse end of the arse end of nowhere.’

‘We’ll split up then,’ I suggest. ‘We’ll cover more ground and we should find him skulking around somewhere. He’s probably building a death ray or a black hole generator or something.’

‘After this is done, shall we have a lunatic free month?’ Yates puts forward.

                We split up, laughing, desperate to be free of Teague, these doldrums and everything in between. I wonder if this sort of stuff happens in the Great Beyond. Maybe it doesn’t but it would only start if we went there. I think we’re better off in the real world.

                I start heading towards the school, hoping I can pick up Teague’s trail from there.

            Surprisingly, the place is deserted. I would have thought that the children would have been practising there. Did they have a school hall? I recall my own primary school years. Hymn practice every Friday in the hall, sitting cross legged on wooden floors so well used they’d lost all their shine. I blame these days for the crick in my back I’ve had for years.

                Walking around the place it becomes clear that they have nothing of a hall size. I exit again. The school is in the centre of the town so I can choose to search in any direction.

                I have a brainwave. Where does Teague live? Surely if he’s anywhere it would be there?

                I head back towards the people. I see Sandra milling around at the edge of the square. I make for her.

                Her face lights up on my arrival. She’s certainly schoolteacherly in appearance. With round cheeks and a helpful, inquisitive expression, she recalls someone who taught me during my own school life. An old favourite I’d long forgotten.

            ‘Easton, what can I do for you?’

                ‘I was just wondering where Teague lived, I wanted to ask him if I could help with the children’s preparation.’

                ‘Good luck to you there!’ she scoffs. ‘He’s being very secretive about the whole thing. I offered help myself but he wants the whole thing to himself apparently. He’s very good with them.’ Was that a flicker of doubt behind those brown eyes?

                ‘Still, I’d like to see him. We go way back.’ Which is true.

                ‘Well if you wanted to try anyway, he lives in the very corner of the town in the southwest corner.’ She directs her hand towards his house.

                I wonder how they have points of the compass here? Surely no one possesses such a device? And would the desert even have a magnetic pole? Maybe they just decided on directions for each of directing.

            ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘I turn to leave.’

                ‘Don’t worry about Tarquin, Easton,’ Sandra blurts out.

                I turn back. She looks sheepish, like she’s spoken out of turn.

                ‘I’m not,’ I say. ‘Well, I don’t want to upset anyone.’

                She gives me a small, sad smile. ‘Tarquin was very lost in life,’ she says. ‘This place gives him purpose. He likes to help people, he’s really not out to hurt.’

                ‘I never thought he was,’ I reply. ‘I hope he knows that.’

                ‘He does. I just want you to know why he’s here. He’s an excellent judge of character and when he saw you and your friends, he really thought you’d stay.’

                I start to talk but she cuts me off. ‘I know you don’t want to. This place is really not for everyone, and I’d never try and convince you to stay. I just want you to know that this place if for the lost. The wanderers who didn’t think they’d ever have a place to go. It might be simple, and seem empty, but really, there aren’t many places more full to us. I hope you understand.’

            I do understand. I think I'm a bit lost myself a lot of the time. I've been drifting for a year towards Penny. Is Penny even out here? Or anywhere at all? Maybe this singular goal I've been living by has been holding me back. Maybe it's time to move on.

            'I think I do fit in here,' I reply, careful with my words. 'I can't tell you how many times I've felt lost, or scared, or just convinced I'm being dragged around by people and random events. I guess the immortality of death is scary - terrifying really. I don't think I could live here, but what does that say about me? I don't fit in with the people who don't fit in.'

            Sandra walks over to me with the sort of sad-yet-smiling expression that told me she was a mum back on earth. Or at least the best auntie you could imagine.

            'You have your friends,' she says. 'It'd take an almighty power to break you three up.'

            I shrug. I'm in that mood where I know I'm being obstinate for no good reason. Blaming everything else for my own problems. I needed to work out what I was doing with my new life. My adventures so far had shown me new people. Former heroes like Thacker, maniacs like Teague, the control freaks in Agatha and Windermere, and the peacekeepers here in the town. This new world is strange and endless, with hidden corners and all the people who ever died. I have to find my place in it. Sometimes I forget that with Elle and Yates, I already have.