by Oliver EADE
“GARY?”
Mike let go of Cathy’s hand and ran on ahead. He touched his friend’s arm.
“Hey, Gary, this is Cathy. I rescued her from the clutches of Blinker.”
“Clutches? Blinker?” the other queried, his voice distant.
“Gary, he’s a shit! An insignificant shit! Getting what he deserves this very minute. Well, in two hundred years’ time… sort of.”
Gary’s eyes blinked. Mike saw a pain so great that when Cathy got cold shouldered he’d misinterpreted his friend’s disinterest as uncaring hardness; in Gary’s eyes were things Mike simply didn’t understand but he knew the pain was beyond anything he’d yet encountered.
Gary stopped and spoke:
“You saw her, didn’t you? In the Hatcheries.”
“The Terminus, Gary. We were in the Terminus. Hiding beside a thing the size of…”
Gary, ignoring Mike, continued on more quickly down the hill towards West Hampstead. Mike ran again to catch up and Cathy hurried after. Gary made no further mention of Beetie and Mike felt he should refrain from telling him the truth concerning God’s revelation… and what Arthry was going to do to her, the little bitch, let alone Teeth’s ultimate threat. Gary would ask in his own time. Perhaps anger with Beetie rather than sorrow now fogged his mind. To augment this by disclosing the girl’s betrayal might cause the boy to flip altogether and do something unbelievably stupid. Mike always feared for Gary’s unpredictability.
“We must hurry,” Gary said. “Your tracksuit! They’ll recognise you. The police are already waiting to arrest Seamus O’Malley at his bedside as soon as he’s fully awake. He was wearing my tracksuit. We’ve really messed things up, Mike.”
“Seamus O’Malley? Who the hell…?”
“An Irishman we… rather, I found on Hampstead Heath. Pissed as a newt. He thought… oh, never mind what the bugger thought! We swapped clothes and he got knifed and left for dead by one of Teeth’s spies. They reckoned he was me in disguise, I guess. But the police think he was in on the theft. You and me, we got caught on security camera when we nicked the Pentatron tablet. Not so clever, eh?”
He looked at his friend.
“Don’t bloody blame me, Gary. I went through hell, too. Poor Cathy, as well. You could at least say ‘hello’ to her. Be a little bit civil.”
A transient smile flickered Gary’s lips for Cathy’s benefit.
“Sorry, Cathy! Expect Mike’s told you what an arsehole I can be.”
“Arse… hole?”
“Mike… you explain.”
“Not true! I’d never have risked my life for you if you were only an arsehole, Gary.”
Gary stopped.
“I got you caught up in this sordid business! Right? Put you through hell, like you said, and nearly got poor Seamus killed, and… and…” He went quiet and took off again. “If not an arsehole, a shit! The stuff that comes out of an arsehole!”
“I’ve got Cathy! Rescued her from those prehistoric rat-faced sugar daddies. Worth going through any crap for! I should thank you, Gary. Yeah! Thanks, Gary! Thanks for helping me meet up with Cathy. She’s getting better by the minute now the damned drug Blinker stuck her with is beginning to wear off.”
“Blinker too? With Arthry? Thought as much!” Gary remarked, his tone flat.
The mention of Arthry’s name sent a shiver down Mike’s spine. How the hell was he going tell Gary when he was like this? Pushed to the limit Gary would become detached, as if he no longer had any interest in the outside world, but Mike knew this to be the calm before the storm. Inside he’d be seething but unreachable. The flatter he appeared the worse the explosion. Avoiding the topic of Beetie was Mike’s only option. He tried to amuse his friend with the story of Danny being kissed in front of his team-mates in Regents Park.
“Don’t think he’ll ever live this one down! Can’t wait to see the pictures the girls took of him getting smackers from the lads. Told ’em to post the photos on Facebook. Had it coming, the brainless bully. You’d have been proud of your old mate, Gary.”
Gary merely stared fixedly ahead. Of course, Mike made no mention of his humiliation following a gentlemanly attempt to explain his changed circumstance to Veronica, and they walked on without a further word spoken. Back home, Gary’s parents hadn’t yet returned from the B & B, so they sat in silence in the sitting room until Mike could no longer bear the tension.
“You’re gonna have to let go, Gary!” he said at last. Oh shit, he thought, when Gary’s eyes flashed at him, and for once in his life he regretted having opened his mouth. “When God returns to the Terminus with his stuff… the force he’s sure he can extract from dark energy… they’ll be offsky,” he continued, hoping the matter-of-fact monotone of his voice might stave off the explosion. “Whoosh! The whole lot of ’em. End of the story! Gotta be realistic, mate.”
“Amazing!”
Mike stared at Gary. Was that all his friend could say? Amazing? No mention of Beetie! He’d half expected to find himself scraping bits of Gary off the ceiling after telling him it was over.
“Offsky to flipping Paradise Planet!” Mike re-affirmed. “Bloody great space-craft called the Belindaron. It’ll take no time, they reckon. Those bleeding…”
Mike halted. Gary was smiling.
Christ, he’s gone and completely flipped. Total and utter ‘flippation’! Lost forever!
“Don’t you understand, Mike? It’s like the time-specs… same thing…”
“Yeah… erm… what?”
“Obvious! Been trying to work out how those specs work ever since I first picked them up. Kind of guessed harnessing dark energy might somehow be involved. And making use of time-space wormholes. Got to hand it to God. Bloody clever to actually achieve the impossible!”
“Gary…?”
“I mean… to apply one set of rules of physics to another makes no mathematical sense, but he’s done it. Or gonna do it. Funny, ay, how at the same time the future has and hasn’t happened. Your space-craft… the Belindaron… has perhaps already arrived in paradise… in hell… whatever, but the Terminus hasn’t been built. We’re still here in the dark ages and… and… she… she’s not yet born. Doesn’t exist.”
Gary was looking at the floor.
“Gary! There’s something you’ve gotta know.”
“DON’T!”
Gary glanced sharply at his friend, his eyes afire.
“I can’t hide the truth any longer. Beetie… she… oh, Christ, I dunno how to put this… she’s having God’s baby, the filthy bastard. I wanted to kill the bugger using my own bare hands, honest, but… well, I was lucky to escape with my life and Cathy.”
Gary’s eyes glazed over. Mike waited.
“You’re wrong! Can’t be! Not God! He’s her step-father, for Christ’s sake!”
Mike felt so sorry for Gary he was tempted to ask Cathy to hug his friend. After all, how does one boy comfort another? He squirmed at the memory of kissing Danny Bryan. The worst moment of his life… though bloody worth it!
“It’s the truth, I’m afraid,” he assured his friend.
“What Redfor said about God not wanting to take Beetie home from the Hatcheries, being afraid of his own feelings because she was so like his wife… her mother... made no sense to me, but if he felt that way why…? Oh shit, Mike! Did I bring this on? Make way for God by...?”
“Gary… there’s nothing more any of us can do!”
“Did he force her?”
Mike remembered Beetie calling out ‘it’s not like that’ after he’d threatened God, just before he and Cathy returned to the present.
“Gary, I… I don’t think so. She was a willing party. Sorry mate!”
Gary drew a deep breath.
“So you still have the specs?”
Mike nodded.
“I’ll kill him. Kill God. I’ve got to. Myself! Only then can I get on with my life, Mike.”
“Is there any point? I mean it’s already happened… in the future. He�
��s a sneaky bastard, too. Chances are you’d end up dead, not him! They’re all mixed up in this, anyway… that crazy idea of pissing off to some Paradise Planet!”
“I’ll kill him, but there’s something I must do first. Make up for what I did to Seamus O’Malley. Afterwards I can kill God. Give me the time-specs. I’m returning to the Royal Free. In a week or so. Taking him to Dublin. Giving him back his self-respect and the lady he loves. And his little girl. It’s the least I can do. Make someone happy, ay?”
“Another thing you should know, Gary. About Beetie. They’re punishing her for running off with you. She’s getting a flogging… or going to get one. From Arthry.”
Mike hoped this might help assuage his friend’s anger with Beetie for allowing a dirty old man to make her pregnant.
“I’ll kill him, too. If it’s the last thing I do, I swear I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about harming her!”
Bugger! I was hoping to destroy the frigging specs, thought Mike.
“Meanwhile, make yourselves at home,” said Gary. “My parents should be back any time…” and he left for the hospital with the time-specs.
“Cup of tea?” Mike asked Cathy when he’d gone.
The girl remained mute. They were sitting together, quietly drinking tea like an elderly married couple, when Mike heard the door open.
He’s back, the boy thought. Seen sense at last.
Mr and Mrs O’Driscoll walked into the room. For a few moments they stood in shocked silence, gaping at the strange-looking boy in a shiny red tracksuit and the pretty, dark-haired, bare-foot girl in a white dress, sitting side-by-side on the settee.
“Mike? Oh, thank God you’re okay! Dressed funny… but okay!”
Mrs O’Driscoll came forward and kissed Mike on the cheek.
“What about your friend? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Oh, sorry! Cathy... my girlfriend. Cathy, this is Mr and Mrs O’Driscoll.”
“Hello, Cathy.”
“Hello, Mr and Mrs O’Driscoll.”
“You never told us you had a girlfriend, Mike. I’m so pleased for you. Is Gary in the kitchen?”
“He… well, he’s gone back to the hospital. Some Irish guy who…”
“We know. Terrible business! I do wish you weren’t both mixed up in this. Did you tell your parents you’re back, Mike? They were going spare this morning when you hadn’t come home last night.”
“Yeah, well it’s like this, Mrs O’Driscoll. Cathy here, I sort of rescued her…”
“He’s so brave! I love Mike!” interrupted Cathy.
Mike patted the girl’s hand.
“Couldn’t let ’em take her away. You’ve no idea what they get up to in the future. And they have no telephones. Wasn’t able to call Mum and Dad. Weird, ay? No phones. Like going back in time rather than forwards. You know…”
“Mike?”
“Mmmm?”
“Mike, just call them. Please? One day you’ll be a parent yourself.”
Sitting beside Cathy, the thought excited Mike. He stroked her hand then left to use the phone in the hallway.... and bumped into Redfor, alone and obviously reluctant to enter the sitting room.
“You? What the bloody hell are you doing lurking around? Want your rotten old tracksuit back, eh?”
“Mike, I must find Gary. Met his parents again outside. Thought he’d be here, but overheard what you said. Could be anywhere now with the time-specs.”
Mike closed the door behind him. He didn’t want Cathy to hear him being angry.
“Yeah! Bloody anywhere, but you know what? I’m praying he’ll find God, and if he doesn’t kill the bastard, I will.”
“God told me about your little outburst in the Terminus, but you’ve got everything wrong, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t think so! No excuse for that sort of shit, step-father or not! I’ll tell you another thing, too! I’m not sorry about Beetie getting flogged either. She and God have really mucked up my friend between them. I admit he’s not a people sort of guy, Gary, the poor mad swot, but she meant everything to him. He loved her, Redfor. Loved a cheap tart… and he’s a good bloke, is Gary! What d’you make of that, ay?”
“I wish I could explain, Mike, but I can’t. God’s given me very strict instructions not to.”
“Huh! He would, wouldn’t he, the dirty old pervert!”
“Mike, under no circumstances must Gary meet God.”
“Who the hell are you to order us about?”
“I’m not ordering, Mike. I’m warning. I’m hoping. Like you lot say, praying. There’s so much neither of you understands yet. As for Beetie, she’s the sweetest girl who’s ever been. One day you’ll regret your unkind words about her, I’m telling you.”
“If I don’t bloody understand why can’t you explain?”
“God knows Gary better than you think, Mike. What he’d do, how he’d react. He wants to protect him.”
“Protect the boy he did the dirty on? Oh, he’s even sicker than I thought. Where is he, by the way?”
“You’ll meet up tomorrow, you and God. I’ll be there outside Baker Street station, 10 am, only don’t tell Gary whatever you do. Leave him to me. Okay?”
“What about Cathy? She’s sticking with me. I’m not letting her out of my sight until all you creeps have safely buggered off for ever into the future in your flipping jumbo-sized flying saucer.”
Redfor chuckled.
“It’s essential Cathy’s with you, Mike. She’s a part of God’s plan, too. Just now, call your parents. The last thing God would want is your parents worrying...”
“Doesn’t care much about poor Gary, does he?”
“And please warn Gary’s parents he’ll be back… with yet another surprise.”
Mike raised two fingers at the back of Redfor as the man from the future left the house, then picked up the phone. Moments later, he was holding it at arm’s length whilst his dad yelled at him from the other end of the line. He waited for a gap in the tirade before trying to get in his bit about Cathy and bringing her home. He hadn’t even given thought to the sleeping arrangements… or clothes. He only knew girls had to buy loads of stuff, accessories, make-up etc. She’d need all of these, and he’d do the schooling bit. Become her personal tutor.
In the end he did a deal with his dad. He’d only return home if he could bring Cathy. Half an hour later Mike found himself reunited with his parents. His dad softened as soon as he set eyes on the girl. No further angry words were uttered.
Chapter 15: Love Redeemed
“I’ll become famous, don’t you t’hink now? Seamus ‘Houdini’ O’Malley! ‘We’ve lost him, we’ve lost him,’ I can hear dem screamin’. Perhaps dey’ll be worryin’ their medicines shrank me down. Dey’ll be shakin’ out de bed linen, peekin’ under de pillows. I t’hink…”
The Irishman’s verbal outpouring stopped when he caught sight of a child staring at him as he and Gary sat on the number 32 bus to Clontarf on Dublin Bay.
“De pyjama look. Latest fashion!” he said proudly, showing off the sleeves of his Royal Free Hospital pyjamas.
“Mummy, can I wear my pyjamas, too, next time we take de bus?” the boy asked the lady beside him.
“Don’t be paying any attention to him, Malachy. And don’t slouch! Sit up straight! To be sure, you’ll end up looking like an old man before you can read or write!”
Seamus chuckled.
“Gary, I should never have left dis city. Molly was right. Dublin’s de best place in de world. Even in de days when de Liffey was full of junk and when Nelson t’hought he still owned her stuck up there on his perch in O’Connell Street. Molly never wanted to come to London. Never fitted in. Said no one talked to her. Here in Dublin dey never stop talkin’ to you.”
“Think she’ll recognise you?” asked Gary.
“Greyin’ hair? Wid more lines on my face dan there are in de Holy Bible? Oh, dey say it’s in de eyes, my boy. In de eyes. She’ll look into dem and she’ll say, ‘take
off dat disguise at once, Seamus O’Malley! Enough of your jokes.’ ‘Molly,’ I’ll say, ‘life’s never a joke. Life’s…’” Tears filmed his sad eyes.
“He’s cryin’, Ma! Look!” the little boy remarked.
“Malachy, what did I say jus’ now? Leave him alone!”
“Everything’s gonna be all right, Seamus. The time-specs will give you and Molly a second chance. It’s the least I can do for you!”
The Irishman wiped his tears and a smile found its way into the sadness darkening his face.
“No, Gary. Not de time-specs. De Holy Virgin and de Holy Father are givin’ me second chance.”
He peered at Gary.
“I will see her again, won’t I? De Holy Virgin?”
Gary didn’t answer. He turned his face to the window, fearing he, too, might disgrace himself with tears. Would he ever see her again? If he did, what would he say? She, an expectant mother by an old man? Funny, but somehow he could never get angry with Beetie. He’d rather destroy the whole world than be angry with her.
Destroy the whole world?
Had he just screwed up because of the girl? Failed to keep his eye on the ball, like in soccer? Mike was right. He was useless at soccer, useless at life. So… God had had his eye on the girl all the time. But London of the future was going to be destroyed anyway. There again, Beetie and the old man’s child might be all that would remain of the human race should Teeth allow her to live on and some day reach that paradise world. Good for God, huh? But why should the pain of it be so bloody unbearable?
“Gary?”
“What?”
“You were dreaming, Gary boy! Would dat be about de Holy Virgin, now?”
Gary nodded.
“Pray to de Holy Father for her. He’ll listen to a good Cat’holic like yourself, for sure he will!”
Gary wasn’t clear about what he was any more. Catholic or lapsed, like Seamus? Out of spiritual earshot of the true God? London schoolboy, no longer a virgin, or time-traveller belonging to nowhere? But human… most definitely human and not Atlantean.
It was a short walk from the bus stop to the O’Malley family home. The tide was out, and a few cocklers, bent forwards, still as statues, shared a puddled mud flat stretching to the far horizon; a sand-tableau speckled with humps of stranded seaweed and strutting, screaming seagulls… and all of this submerged at high water as London would be in two hundred years.