The Day I Was Erased

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The Day I Was Erased Page 11

by Lisa Thompson


  There was still one last chance for Monster. One more hope that I was clinging on to. Maybe, just maybe, someone else had rescued him that day and he’d ended up living with my dad. Dad had helped me to save him in a way. He might not have picked him up out of the road but he’d driven us to the vet to have his paw looked at. Maybe Monster had survived and was living with him? OK, it wasn’t likely, but I was desperate to believe Monster was OK. I caught her up again.

  “How about your dad? Does he have a dog?”

  Bex huffed.

  “No. My dad hates dogs!”

  I sniffed and wiped my nose.

  “He doesn’t actually,” I mumbled. “He just says that to annoy Mum.”

  Bex frowned. “What did you say?” she said.

  I didn’t look up as I scuffed the floor with my foot. “I’m just saying that sometimes people like dogs more than they think they do, that’s all.”

  Poor Monster. I wanted to sob. I wanted to put my head in my hands and cry. I could feel Bex glaring at me.

  “It sounds like a stupid survey to me,” she said. “And you’re one really odd kid.”

  “Well, you’re one really bad thief,” I said.

  Her face dropped.

  “What?!” she snarled.

  “I saw you stuffing nail varnishes down your sleeve in that shop!” I said. “Why would you do that? That’s not like you at all.”

  She looked angry now. The angriest I’d ever seen her. She got really close to me and I think if we hadn’t been in public, she would have grabbed me by the collar.

  “Look. I have no idea who you are or why you think you know anything about me, but if you tell anyone about the nail varnish I’ll make sure your life’s not worth living. OK?” she said. Her face was inches from mine and her make-up was cracking around her nose like pastry on a pie. I took a step back.

  “But you don’t do things like that,” I said, almost shouting. “You’re never in trouble. That’s my job! You’re the good one! You never get detention or set fire to things in school or … or steal. You do projects about the Georgians or boring stuff like that – just for fun!”

  She squinted at me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I’m not interested in that stuff.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said, suddenly remembering the mysterious wooden egg in Reg’s cabinet. “I bet you know what M. Celeste means, don’t you?”

  I saw a flicker in my sister’s eye but she didn’t say anything.

  “Or … erm … Amun … Amersom… Or something like that, anyway. And, erm, Earhart. I bet you know what an Earhart is too, don’t you?”

  She smirked.

  “You don’t mean what an Earhart is, you mean who,” she said, instantly pressing her lips together. Ha! My sister was in there somewhere after all.

  “Who was it then? Tell me?”

  She grimaced at me.

  “Haven’t you heard of a thing called Google?” she said. We were both quiet for a moment.

  “Of course I have! But I don’t have a computer at the moment, do I? Or a phone,” I said.

  She looked me up and down like I was some kind of alien.

  “What’s your name?” she said.

  “Maxwell. Maxwell Bec… Just Maxwell,” I said.

  “Well, Just Maxwell, if you don’t have a phone then that’s your problem, not mine,” she said and she carried on walking. I didn’t have the energy to follow her and argue any more so I turned away and began to walk back to Reg’s.

  This world stank. My sister was horrible. Really, really horrible. My dad was working in a job that had made him ill and Charlie Geek was pretending to be someone he wasn’t. My stomach churned as I fought back tears.

  But far worse than all of these things was the realization of what must have happened to my dog. I hadn’t been there on that day when he was lying in the middle of the road. I hadn’t been there to save him.

  I wiped the tears as they began to spill down my cheeks.

  My dog, the best thing that had ever happened to me, had gone.

  Monster was dead.

  The next morning I woke with a jump. My heart was thundering in my chest like a rackety old train. Then I remembered why.

  I didn’t exist any more.

  I’d wished I’d never been born and, for reasons I had no explanation for, it had come true. I looked across at Reg’s strange cabinet. I was certain that it had something to do with the strange, carved wooden egg. Something had happened and then in the blink of an eye I, Maxwell Beckett, had been wiped out of all existence.

  And now Monster was dead.

  I took some deep breaths like the teachers used to tell me to do when I got angry in class. My heart gradually slowed from a machine-gun fire to a steady thud.

  All I needed to do was to work out how the egg had done what it had done, and reverse everything. I’d be un-erased. I would have rescued Monster and he would still be alive.

  Simple.

  I could hear Reg pottering around in the kitchen so I got up and went to the cabinet. I took out the egg and sat on the sofa and gave it a shake. There was a rattling sound inside.

  “I wish I existed again,” I said, closing my eyes. When I opened them I looked straight at the mantlepiece but the picture I’d drawn of Reg wasn’t there. I hadn’t returned.

  Maybe there was more to it than just saying something out loud. I pressed the little knob at the top and it clicked as the egg sprung open again. I took out the handkerchief and had a closer look at the silver button. It was quite fancy and not the kind of button you’d get on clothes today. I put the button on top of the handkerchief and the square of thick fabric and held up the scrap of wool. It was dark grey and looked a bit like an old piece of rag.

  “Ah, you’ve found Amundsen’s finger!” said Reg, appearing with two bowls of cornflakes. I dropped the wool and wiped my fingers on my trousers.

  “A finger?” I said.

  Reg laughed.

  “Oh, it’s not his actual finger. It’s just a piece of his glove. He was someone who … he … erm … now I know this one, hold on. Just let me think for a moment.”

  He put the two bowls on to the coffee table and his face crumpled as he tried to remember who Amundsen was. I put everything back into the egg and closed it all with a click.

  “Don’t worry, Reg. There’s no need to try and remember,” I said, reaching for my cornflakes. “Do you have a computer or tablet I could borrow?”

  Reg picked up his bowl of cornflakes and looked at me blankly.

  “I’ve got a tablet I take in the mornings for my waterworks but I don’t think you should be having those, young, erm … erm…”

  He was struggling to remember my name. I munched on a big spoonful of cereal.

  “Thanks for breakfast, Reg. My parents said you’d be a great person to stay with while they were away. Dad said ‘Oh, Maxwell, you’ll have a lovely time with Reg. And he was right.”

  I gave him a smile. I was quite pleased that I’d managed to tell him my name again without him feeling uncomfortable. He smiled back at me.

  “Maxwell! Of course. Maxwell. Right you are.” He scraped his spoon around the bowl and we both ate our breakfasts in silence.

  There was something I really wanted to do today. I wanted to see my mum. I wasn’t going to talk to her or freak her out or anything, but maybe I could follow her home and double-check that there was no sign of Monster. My sister was so horrible I didn’t quite trust that she wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t have a dog.

  My best hope of seeing Mum was to go to where she worked and wait outside until she finished her shift at two p.m.

  “Reg?” I asked. “Can I look through your cabinet this morning?”

  Reg looked at me and smiled.

  “Of course you can!” he said. “There are some wonderful things in there. Truly wonderful.”

  “Do you know anything about the wooden egg?” I asked. “The one that opens up wit
h all the things inside? You said your grandfather won it in Vietnam.”

  Reg chewed on the side of his cheek as he thought about it. Then he shrugged. It didn’t look like he could remember any more than that.

  After we finished breakfast Reg went off to the kitchen to do the washing-up while I looked through the shelves of the cabinet. From what I could tell, most of it was junk. There were a few books on the bottom shelf and one of the titles caught my eye: The Mary Celeste Mystery. That was one of the names carved on the inside of the egg, I was sure of it! I took the egg out of the cabinet and sat on the floor with the book beside me. I pressed the top and opened it up then took all the things out. Then I looked closely at the engraved names again.

  M. Celeste.

  There it was. The name matched the book!

  There was a painting of a ship on the cover – an old-fashioned kind with big, billowing sails. I turned the book over and read the blurb on the back:

  In 1872 the merchant vessel, the Mary Celeste, was discovered drifting across the Atlantic Ocean. It was completely deserted. The ship wasn’t damaged and there were no signs of a fight. The lifeboat was missing but the provisions were still stored in the cupboards. The last entry in her log had been made ten days earlier. What happened is a completely mystery…

  I felt the hairs at the back of my neck go all electric-y. Where had everybody gone? Had they all just jumped off the ship? Had something taken them?

  I looked at the little pile of things that were inside the egg – the button, the woollen “finger”, the handkerchief and the piece of fabric. I studied each one, then held the fabric against the picture of the ship. My tummy turned over and my arms tingled. The dirty white cloth in my hand looked very similar to the big, curling sails on the ship. Was I holding a piece of the Mary Celeste?

  I spent the rest of the morning looking through the book but it didn’t give any answers to what had happened. The last chapter finished with the line: The disappearance of the crew on the Mary Celeste is a mystery that will never be solved… Was I going to end up like that? Was I going to be an unsolvable mystery? I shut the book and quickly put it away. It gave me the shivers.

  We had baked beans on toast for lunch and then it was almost time to try and see Mum. I told Reg that I had to go out and run some errands but I wouldn’t be long.

  Mum works in clinic on the edge of town. She’s a phlebotomist which sounds like something to do with bottoms, but it actually means she is able to take people’s blood.

  It was a long way to the clinic but the walk gave me a chance to think. I felt nervous. Would she still be working there? I couldn’t see her working anywhere else because she absolutely loved her job, but then Dad wasn’t doing his gardening any more so maybe things were different for her too?

  Mum had had this job for as long as I could remember. When I was really little she bought me a toy medical kit and taught me how to take a blood test. Not a real one; the syringe I used was just made of chunky plastic without a needle or anything. Mum would pretend to be the patient and I would be the phlebotomist. She would sit on one of our dining chairs in the middle of the kitchen and I’d ask her to confirm her name, address and date of birth while I stared at a little notepad. I was too young to read or write so I just nodded and scribbled on the paper. I’d then ask Mum to roll up her sleeve and hold out her arm. I pretended to look for a vein but she always had a bright greeny-blue one right there which I tapped with my fingertip. I wrapped a bandage above her elbow (which you did to make the vein stand out better) then I wiped her arm with a piece of tissue like I was making it clean. I got my syringe ready.

  “Sharp scratch coming, Mum. I mean, Mrs Beckett,” I said, and Mum giggled.

  I pretended to take the blood and then I asked her to press down on a piece of cotton wool on the inside of her elbow, before putting a real plaster on the invisible spot. Putting the plaster on was my favourite bit.

  “What a gentle, professional phlebotomist you are,” said Mum.

  “I’m the best bottom-ist ever!” I’d say, which would make Mum really laugh. I used to love that time with her, playing pretend games like that. I wished I could go back and do it all again.

  The clinic was further than I remembered and I had to jog for the last five minutes to make sure I was there for two p.m. I got to the door just as Mum appeared in the foyer area. I smiled. She looked exactly the same! She tucked her short brown hair behind one ear as she swung her bag on to her shoulder and stopped to say something to a man sitting at the reception desk. They both laughed and then she came out of the door, brushing right past me. I watched as she put her hands into her coat pockets and walked through the car park to the road. I quickly followed.

  It was so nice to see my mum I started to wonder if there was a way I could talk to her. Maybe I could just pretend I knew her? Or ask her something about the clinic? I sped up a little with a big smile on my face but then I saw Mum wave at a man standing by the car park entrance. He wiggled his fingers back at her. I slowed down again. I’d never seen that man before. He was wearing a grey sweater with a green puffy body-warmer over the top. He grinned at my mum, and then something terrible happened. Something that made me sick to my stomach. The man held out his arms and Mum skipped towards him and he folded his arms around her in a great, big hug. Mum had her face pressed against his chest, and then, as if it couldn’t get worse, she turned her face towards his and they kissed.

  And it wasn’t a “hello” kiss either.

  It was a proper kiss on the lips.

  And it went on for ages.

  “W-what are you doing, Mum?” I said under my breath.

  When they’d stopped kissing the man stood back and smiled at her like she was the best thing he’d ever seen in the whole wide world. She put her arm in his and they walked down the road towards town.

  I wanted to throw up.

  She had a boyfriend? My mum? I couldn’t believe it. OK, so Mum and Dad hadn’t been happy for a while and they lived as separately as they could in our house, but I’d never known either of them to go out with anyone else. Ever.

  I was just a few paces behind them but it was hard to keep my distance because they were walking really slowly. It was like they weren’t in a rush to be anywhere. Mum said something and the man laughed and kissed her on the top of her head as she pressed the side of her face against his big arm.

  “Oh please,” I groaned, a little too loudly. The man looked over his shoulder and frowned and then my mum turned too. She looked me right in the eyes and smiled. I smiled back. She recognized me! I was about to say hello but she turned away and they carried on walking. My heart sank. She didn’t know me at all. I was just some kid who happened to be going the same way. I was nobody to her.

  They got to the high street and paused outside a café, looking at the menu as I walked past.

  My stomach was in knots as I stopped at a charity shop next to the café. I pretended to look in the window while stealing glances at Mum and the man. They chose some seats under an orange heater and sat down, holding hands across the table. I hadn’t seen her look that happy in years and I didn’t like it. Not that she was happy, but the reason why. It was that man, in his stupid, puffy body-warmer that made him look like he had a life-jacket on. I could hear them discussing what they were going to order. The man chose the vegan lasagne and Mum picked the tofu stir-fry. She’d have never chosen a tofu stir-fry with Dad, she’d have had a burger or something.

  I was just thinking that I couldn’t really stand there for much longer when Mum went inside the café to order. The man took his mobile phone out of his body-warmer pocket and began scrolling through it. Before I thought about it too much I walked towards him and stood by his chair. It took him a moment to realize I was there.

  “Ah, my partner’s just gone inside to order, actually,” he said, smiling at me. I smirked. He actually thought I worked here! A twelve-year-old working in a café on a school day?! That’s how stupid he was. What a
n idiot!

  “Your girlfriend seems nice,” I blurted out. I could see my mum inside, standing in a queue at the till.

  “Erm. Yeah, she is,” said the man, looking at me strangely. “Do we know you?”

  I snorted.

  “No. We don’t know me at all,” I said, realizing it didn’t really make sense but I knew what I meant.

  The man nodded, then sort of shrugged in a So what do you want then? kind of way.

  “You do know she killed a hedgehog once, don’t you?”

  The man opened his mouth and closed it again.

  “She ran over it,” I said. “It went right under her wheel.”

  “A hedgehog?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “It exploded like a balloon right across the road. Like this … BANG!” The man flinched as I slammed my hands together.

  “I thought you should know. What with you not eating animals and that,” I said.

  “I see,” he said. “And did she eat the hedgehog? After she’d killed it?”

  I pulled a face.

  “No, of course not,” I said. He was studying my face like teachers do sometimes when they’re trying to be cleverer than you are.

  “Well, these things happen. I’m sure most people have accidentally killed something when driving,” he said. He was right. Mum had run over the hedgehog by mistake and had come home crying about it.

  “I’m sorry, but why are you telling me this?” he said, sitting forward in his chair. I looked inside the café and Mum was at the counter, being served. I had to be quick.

  “I just wanted to warn you about her,” I said, nodding towards the café. “Her kids are a nightmare. Her eldest daughter is a right handful. She’ll probably end up in jail before long. And her youngest, well, he’s just out of control. Did she tell you he decapitated a flamingo once? He took its head right off with a brick.”

  I didn’t mention that the flamingo had been made of plastic. The man looked at me and smiled.

  “Are you OK?” he said kindly. “Is there someone you’d like me to call?”

  I opened my mouth to say something else when the door of the café open and my mum walked right towards us.

 

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