by Mark Tilbury
Tom shrugged. ‘Teenagers rebel all the time. They’d rebel against rebellion if it was cool.’
‘I wish I’d rebelled more.’
‘The letter said she wanted money for The Rapture. Do you know what The Rapture is, son?’
Ben shook his head. ‘Not really. It just seems like a load of nonsense to get money to finance the cult.’
‘Sounds that way to me, too,’ Tom agreed. ‘The Rapture can be a dangerous concept in the wrong hands. Waco being a classic example of that. The time of The Rapture is known as Tribulation. What it boils down to is a rebellion against Satan. There will be great battles between good and evil. Some of those with faith will be chosen to be saved and taken up to Heaven.’
Ben frowned. ‘In a spaceship?’
Tom nodded. ‘Jesus will return to earth to judge the remaining people and rule for a thousand years. Then Jesus will defeat Satan and banish evil forever. The world will be destroyed and a new Heaven and earth will be created.’
It all sounded like utter hogwash to Ben. ‘Do you reckon that’s true, Tom?’
‘I don’t know, son. I look at the sky at night and see the moon and all the stars shining in the galaxy and I believe anything’s possible.’
‘Do you think there’s such a thing as Heaven and Hell?’
‘Absolutely, son. I believe that the Lord is putting us to the test to see who is fit for the Kingdom of Heaven.’
‘What if I mess up, Tom? What then?’
‘The Lord trusts you, son. He has unbelievable faith in all of us. And he has something else. Something that Satan doesn’t. He has the capacity to forgive.’
Ben considered all the people languishing in hell-holes around the world. People being tortured. People starving to death. People without clean drinking water. Was Pastor Tom’s God putting them to the test? If so, Pastor Tom’s God had a propensity towards cruelty.
‘I know what you’re thinking, son. Why me? Why did my life have to get turned upside down? But remember this: sometimes even the bleakest situation can be turned into a triumph.’
‘I don’t see how a geek like me can turn this mess into a triumph.’
‘Only the starving truly appreciate food. Only the homeless truly appreciate shelter. Only the blind truly appreciate sight. I could go on and on. You are what the Lord has chosen you to be, son. And he has chosen you to be the way you are for the purpose of growth and enlightenment.’
Ben wanted to believe him. ‘What about the weak? The vulnerable? Do they all pass the Lord’s test?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t see many people with learning difficulties running into burning buildings.’
‘They don’t need to run into burning buildings. The Lord has set them different kinds of tests. Getting a bus into town on their own. Making lunch. Putting on a wash cycle.’
‘I’d never thought of it that way.’
‘We are all particles of the same whole, son. We just need to figure out how we all fit together.’
Maddie returned to the kitchen and plonked a large leather suitcase on the floor. She grinned at the two men. ‘I think I’ve got it all.’
Pastor Tom laughed. ‘You’re staying a while, then?’
‘A girl needs clothes.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to pop the kitchen sink in there while you’re at it?’
Maddie collapsed on top of her suitcase. ‘Pick me up. I’m hysterical.’
‘Go on. Get outta here.’
As they were about to leave, Pastor Tom looked at Ben. He didn’t say anything. It was almost as if he was trying to convey a message through telepathy. A message of love and understanding. Ben wanted to tell Pastor Tom how much he loved him. Admired him. Respected him. But somehow he knew that he didn’t need words to say those things. Acknowledgement was written in the man’s eyes in clear blue ink.
Chapter six
Ben and Maddie stepped off the bus in Oxford High Street at nine-fifteen on Tuesday morning. After two fruitless trips to the city on his own, Maddie had agreed to accompany Ben whilst his mother helped Pastor Tom at the church. She’d perked up a bit when Tom had asked her if she was any good at flower arranging. It was only a month ago that Anne had completed a course to study the subject. No tip-off from Maddie!
Ben walked off toward the main shopping area. ‘The only busker I’ve seen up to now is an old guy who looks like a university professor.’
‘And what does a university professor look like, exactly?’
Ben grinned. He loved it when he made Maddie laugh. ‘Grey hair poking out behind his ears. Long coat and a scarf.’
‘A scarf, huh? That’s a dead giveaway.’
‘College scarf.’
‘Did you ask him about Marcus?’
Ben nodded. ‘Yeah. But he didn’t even answer me. He was either deaf or ignorant.’
‘He probably couldn’t hear you above his guitar. Come on, let’s get looking.’
After three hours of searching the streets of Oxford, the nearest they’d come to finding a busker was a preacher on a soap box banging a tambourine to emphasise his beliefs. Ben sat down on a bench, which was a narrow tilted strip of wood designed to offer no comfort.
‘They make them like this to stop people sleeping on them,’ Maddie said.
‘They’re all heart.’
Maddie sat down beside him. ‘They’ll make it a criminal offence to be homeless next. They’ll shoot vagrants on sight for daring to litter their precious city.’
‘They’ll chop off the hands of beggars to stop them begging.’
‘Chop off the feet of tramps to stop them tramping.’
‘This country sucks.’
‘Like a kid’s straw in a milkshake,’ Maddie agreed. ‘Did you see that Big Issue guy outside Debenhams?’
‘The big dude with the shaved head?’
Maddie nodded. ‘I wonder if he’s seen our busker?’
‘He looks like he might have eaten him.’
‘Swallowed him whole,’ Maddie agreed. ‘Shall we ask him?’
‘Do you reckon we ought to buy a Big Issue?’
‘We could give him a tenner. It might help to jog his memory.’
Big Issue guy offered Ben a magazine and a smile that looked capable of mincing beef.
Ben tried to smile back, but his lips refused to cooperate. ‘I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for someone.’
Big Issue scowled and squinted at Ben. ‘Are you a copper?’
Ben moved back a step. ‘Me? God, no.’
‘We’re looking for my sister,’ Maddie said. ‘Show him the picture.’
Ben took Emily’s picture from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it over. ‘It’s not very up to date. She’s nineteen now.’
Big Issue handed the picture back to Ben. ‘I ain’t seen her. When did she go missing?’
Ben tucked the picture back in his pocket. ‘A couple of years ago.’
‘Kids vanish all the time. The street just sucks ’em up. Paedophiles and pimps everywhere.’
Maddie hooked her thumbs in the side of her bright red dungarees. ‘She may have run off with a busker. A guy called Marcus.’
Big Issue shook his head. ‘Name don’t ring any bells. Thousands of kids end up with some twat who offers them the world and then takes them straight to hell.’
Ben sighed. ‘That’s reassuring.’
Big Issue treated Ben to a bloodshot stare. ‘That’s the way it is.’
Ben turned to Maddie. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
Maddie ignored him. ‘She’s nineteen. You have a think about that.’
‘I lost three toes in Afghanistan and got discharged from the army without so much as a thank you. You think about that.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Serve your country, and what do you get? Treated like shit on a shoe.’
Maddie touched his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’ve seen people with arms and legs
blown off. All that fucking bravado, and for what? No one gives a tin-shit. Welcome to the world.’
Maddie and Ben walked away. Big Issue called after them. ‘There is this one guy. I don’t know his name. He comes in a few days a week. Usually on a Wednesday and Friday. Sometimes more. He’s quite young. Good-looking, I suppose, if you like that sort of thing. Wears a shitty looking pinstripe suit and a straw hat.’
Maddie turned around and grinned. ‘And he busks?’
‘Busks. Deals shit. Yaps to all the girlies. Fancies himself. Yep. A right regular arsehole.’
Maddie smiled a smile to open hearts. It caused a knot in Ben’s stomach to tighten. ‘Where does he busk?’
Big Issue pointed across the street towards Boots. ‘Over there, sometimes. Sometimes he stands outside the Methodist church.’
Maddie nodded. ‘Thanks so much for that. What’s your name?’
‘I’ve got all sorts of names, love. Most of ’em ain’t very nice. But you can call me Gary.’
Maddie shook Gary’s hand. ‘I’m Maddie. This is Ben. Have you got a mobile, Gary?’
‘Yeah. But I ain’t got no credit.’
‘If I give you some money for credit, could you give me a ring the next time you see this busker?’
Gary nodded. ‘Okay.’
Maddie plucked a Big Issue out of Gary’s hand and wrote her mobile number on the back. She handed it back to him.
Gary looked at it and grinned. ‘I hope you’re going to pay for the Big Issue.’
Maddie turned to Ben. ‘Give him twenty pounds.’
‘Twenty quid? What for?’
‘Ten for his phone and ten for the magazine.’
‘But—’
Maddie scowled. ‘But nothing, skinflint. It’s my sister that’s missing.’
‘Yeah, do the right thing, dude. You might need help one day.’
Ben fished his wallet out and handed over the cash. Anyone with half a brain knew the money would end up in an off-licence till.
Maddie smiled. ‘There. That didn’t hurt too much, did it?’
More than you’ll ever know, Ben thought.
Maddie turned back to Gary. ‘We’ll be kicking around in Oxford for the rest of the day. Would you call us if you see him?’
Gary promised that he would.
Ben thought the promise might as well be written in steam.
‘After today, it’ll take us about an hour to get here. So call us straight away,’ Maddie said.
Gary nodded. ‘Sure.’
As they walked away, Maddie turned to Ben. ‘That’s a start.’
‘He won’t call.’
‘He might.’
‘Twenty quid’s a lot of money to pin to a donkey with “might” for a tail.’
Maddie ignored him. ‘Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.’
Ben wasn’t. His stomach was too knotted to be hungry. They went to McDonald’s where he spent most of the time lost in thought and twirling cold fries between his fingers.
Maddie finished her meal and wiped her mouth with a serviette. ‘Let’s give it until four. If we hear nothing by then, we’ll head off home.’
‘I suppose.’
‘At least Gary can keep an eye out for him.’
‘If he doesn’t spend the money on booze.’
‘We’ll just have to trust him, won’t we? Come on, let’s do another sweep of the streets and then sit down by the Methodist church Gary mentioned.’
Ben thought if Gary had mentioned a busker in a hot-air balloon, Maddie would have spent the rest of the day looking up at the sky.
By the time they sat down outside the Methodist church an hour later, Ben’s feet felt as if they’d been fed through a shredder. ‘What time’s the next bus home?’
‘Twenty past four or ten to five.’
Ben glanced at his watch. Another two hours. ‘Even if we find this busker, and I join this stupid cult, it will be way too late for my dad. I mean, it’s Tuesday now. He phoned Friday night and he sounded like he was at death’s door then.’
Maddie smiled. The patient smile of a parent with an inattentive child. ‘You don’t know that, Ben. You have to keep believing.’
‘Believing in what, exactly? Miracles?’
‘Believing that things will turn out all right.’
‘And what am I supposed to say to this busker if we find him? Hey, mate, do you belong to a cult?’
Maddie laughed. ‘You’ll need to be a bit more subtle than that. Just chat to him. See how the land lies. Convince him you’re searching for answers. Tell him you hate modern living. Play it by ear.’
Ben’s stomach churned. ‘I can’t do it, Maddie. I work in an office. Well, a converted coal shed. I’m no good at pretending.’
Maddie took hold of his hand. ‘You just have to trust yourself, Ben. Take one step at a time.’
‘And then trip myself up.’
Maddie let go of his hand. ‘If you’re so bothered about it, why don’t we do it together?’
‘Do what?’
‘Join the cult.’
Ben shook his head. ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not asking. I’m offering.’
‘What about my mother? Who’s going to look after her?’
‘We’ll think of something.’
‘Like what?’
‘I could get my dad to ask Rhonda.’
‘Rhonda doesn’t even know my mum.’
‘Rhonda’s got a big personality. She’d cope. Trust me.’
Ben wasn’t so confident. ‘My mother has two modes: nervous and hysterical.’
‘Your mother’s bearing up quite well, considering.’
‘That’s more to do with happy pills than anything else.’
‘If you don’t want me to help, then fine, I won’t,’ Maddie said. ‘I’m not going to force you. It was just an idea.’
‘And what about your dad? How’s he going to feel if you put your neck on the line?’
‘He’d understand.’
Ben stamped his foot to shoo away a pigeon that was paying close attention to his trainers. ‘I don’t know. I think we should just go home.’
Maddie plucked a strand of hair off her forehead. ‘And then what?’
Ben didn’t have a clue. Infiltrating the cult was a marvellous idea if this was a movie and he was an all-action hero. He stood more chance of flying to the moon on a pig.
Maddie’s phone beeped. Private number. She answered it. ‘Gary?’
Ben groaned. What did he want? More money? A date with Maddie? A medal?
Maddie smiled. ‘Thanks, Gary. Take care.’ She turned to Ben. ‘He’s outside Marks and Sparks.’
‘Who?’
‘The busker, dummy.’
‘Is he sure it’s him?’
Maddie nodded. ‘It’s the same guy. Let’s find out his name and then take it from there.’
Ben’s stomach tightened. ‘Shouldn’t we work out what to say first?’
‘No. We don’t want to sound like we’ve got a script. It’s better to just go with the flow.’
‘Like a drowning man in a river?’
‘Ha ha, Ben. Very funny.’
The busker was singing All You Need is Love. Badly. A few girls were gathered around him. He had the bluest eyes Ben had ever seen. Deeper blue than Pastor Tom’s, but with the same sparkle. There was a straw hat perched on his head. His skin was either tanned or unwashed.
‘He looks like a gypsy,’ Ben said.
‘Nothing wrong with gypsies. Have you got any change?’
Ben fished out some loose change and handed it over. Maddie stepped forward and threw the money into a small plastic bowl sitting on the ground. She turned back towards Ben. ‘Your generosity knows no bounds.’
‘I’ve already shelled out twenty quid.’
The busker finished his song to a smattering of applause from the girls standing around him. He bowed and smiled at Maddie.
Maddie smiled
back. ‘That was cool.’
He tuned his guitar. ‘Thanks.’
Ben imagined John Lennon spinning in his grave.
‘Do you do requests?’
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
Busker tweaked a string and raised the guitar up close to his ear. ‘Whether I know it or not.’
Maddie twirled her ponytail. ‘Living on a Prayer? Bon Jovi?’
‘Don’t know it.’
‘Girls Just Wanna have Fun?’
Busker grinned. ‘Is that right? I could do Pretty Woman if you like.’
Ben almost groaned out loud.
Maddie put her hands on her hips. ‘I’m Maddie.’
Busker seemed deep in contemplation for a few moments. And then: ‘I’m Marcus. What’s Maddie short for? Madam?’
Maddie laughed and moved a few steps closer. ‘Cheeky! It’s short for Madeline.’
Ben’s heart beat like an ostrich wing trying to take flight. He gawked at Marcus as if the man had just revealed himself as Jesus Christ Himself.
‘You should learn to play the mandolin, Madeline.’
Maddie smiled. ‘So what do you do, Marcus? Are you a student?’
‘Do I look like a parasite?’
‘I take it you don’t like students, then?’
Marcus strummed his guitar with a single downward sweep of his hand. ‘Have you seen this city?’
‘Nice buildings.’
‘Inhabited by rats.’
Maddie wiggled her hips and sang the chorus of We Built This City.
‘Do you want to join my band?’
‘I thought you were a one-man-band?’
‘There’s always room to expand. Especially with a pretty girl like you.’
Maddie grinned. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’
Marcus looked at Ben. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?’
‘This is Ben.’
Marcus looked at Ben as if he was trying to read his mind. ‘Do you sing? Or are you the dancing bear?’
Ben tried to smile. Tried to look nonchalant. Tried to ignore the mocking look in the man’s eyes. He was a charmer. A magnet for girls like Emily Hunt.
‘Are you from Oxford?’ Maddie asked.
‘Nope. You?’
Maddie shook her head. ‘No. We’re hiking across the country. Trying to get out of the rat race.’
‘Can’t say I blame you.’