Soul Mate (Book One)

by Richard Crawford

When I do the world spins and I feel like I need to hold on to something. The sky's too far above my head, the pavement rolls beneath my feet. I take a shallow breath and fix my gaze on the next lamppost. Then I start walking.

  I do that for a while, walk from lamppost to lamppost, not really paying much attention to direction. The cars whizzing by freak me out, I can't look at them. Then I reach a big junction with traffic lights and slip roads. I'm baffled by how to cross the road and which direction to take. I know this shouldn't be a problem but I can't work it out. I don't know what's wrong with me. I stand there staring at the lights as they change red, amber, green and back again.

  A car pulls into the kerb by me. It's a Ride in Style cab. The window purrs down.

  "Hey, Tommy, you want a ride into town?"

  I don't know the driver but I say, "Yeah, thanks."

  It's only when I sit down I realise how close I was to falling down. Everything swims out of focus. The guy is looking at me.

  "You, OK?"

  I nod and he shifts into gear and checks the road before he pulls out into the traffic. We drive for a bit, heading for town. He keeps glancing over at me and he cracks a window open. We pull up at a red light and he takes a longer look at me.

  "Where do you want to go?" he asks. "I can drop you home if you want."

  "I thought you were going back to the garage?"

  "Yeah," he says. "But if you want me to drop you somewhere first…"

  I don't get what he means. "No, thanks. I'm late enough already. Ally will chew my ass off."

  For a moment I think he has something more to say. But he can't quite get it out and after that he concentrates on driving. He gets a call for a pick-up before we get all the way back and drops me off at the end of the alley.

  "Thanks, man."

  "Sure, no problem." He still seems like he's concerned about something, but I give him a wave and head off down the alley. I feel a bit better after sitting down. I don't know how good I'm going to be on a rickshaw. But I need to turn up. I need Ally to know I'm dry and reliable. Well, sort of reliable.

  I figure after coffee and something to eat I'll feel better. I just need to keep everything about last night out of my head for now. Do one thing at a time.

  When I get there the garage is pretty empty, just a few guys hanging around waiting for a job. Pete is sprawled on the sofa reading the paper, one hand curled round a mug of coffee.

  He looks up and says, "Hey, T." Then he does a sort of double take and puts the coffee down. "You, OK?"

  "Sure," I say, but he keeps staring with this uncertain look on his face. "What's up?" I ask.

  He unfolds off the sofa slowly and chucks the paper aside. "Um." It's as if he doesn't know where to start. "You don't look so good, man. Ally's on the warpath. You should get washed up before he sees you."

  I'm not feeling real sharp but from the way Pete says this, you don't need to be a genius to work out what he's thinking. Before I can work out how to answer an accusation that hasn't been made, he grabs my arm.

  "I'm not saying I know what happened, T, but you've got puke and blood on your shirt." He's pushing me towards the bathroom. "You've got a black eye and you look like hell."

  Pete knows I've been missing all night and he's telling me I look like I've been on a binge. I look down at my shirt and I can't argue. I stink and not just of puke. It's not the moment to be insisting that I'm dry but I have to say something so I mumble. "It's not what it looks like. I got food poisoning."

  "Yeah, fine, dude. Just get cleaned up before Ally sees you." He chucks me a clean T-shirt.

  I make it to the men's room. The flickering, buzzing strip-light plays hell with my head. I stagger to the basins. The mirror tells me Pete's right. I look like shit. I look like I've had a weeklong session.

  I'm leaning on the basins, staring at myself in the mirror when Ally comes out of one of the stalls with a newspaper tucked under his arm. I nearly have a heart attack. I do stop breathing. He comes to the sink and washes his hands. He starts to turn away, stops, turns back.

  "Tommy, you're fucking late. Where've you been?" He studies me for ten seconds and his face wrinkles in disgust. "Stupid question," he says. Two beats and he heads for the door.

  "Ally, wait." I go after him. "It's not what you think."

  "I don't want to hear it. You know how it works. This isn't a charity. You stay dry or you're out." Ally throws this over his shoulder as if he can't be bothered anymore.

  "I'm not drinking. I got food poisoning."

  "Yeah. I can hear you, but you'll need to find someone else to buy your bullshit, T, you're done here."

  The deal with Zach means I'm not on the books. Ally doesn't need to give me notice. I figure he's been waiting for the chance since the first time I screwed up.

  He heads to the garage and I'm on his heels trying to get a word in but he's not finished. "I told Zach he was wasting his time with you. But he said as long as you were dry you got your chance." He turns on me real fast. "You're done, get out."

  He starts to turn away and I grab his arm. It's an insane thing to do. Ally's Glasgow kiss is legendary around town. I know it but I'm not really thinking straight. "I'm not drunk." I eyeball him like a lunatic. The garage is dead quiet. "I'll take a breathalyser, I'll do a blood or urine test." I lose it completely and yell at him. "I'll do whatever it takes to get it through your stupid fucking head, I haven't been drinking!"

  Ally gets that psycho look. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Pete edge closer, getting ready to pull Ally off before he kills me. I get a sinking feeling in my gut.

  "I had a bad night," I say, forcing myself to be calmer but still holding on to Ally, partly so he can't hit me. "It's complicated but I wasn't drinking."

  For a minute Ally still has the psycho look and I really think I'm going to need Pete's help. But then Ally steps back. He knocks my hand off his arm. Perhaps he got close enough to notice the things I don't smell of. Who knows, but the look's gone; he doesn't go berserk. He waits until he can see I've calmed down and then he says, "Some girl's been calling here all morning asking for you. What's that about?"

  I'm blitzed by the change of subject and the realisation I've just had a near death experience. "Like I said it's complicated." This is all I can manage. Then I get a surge of hope. "Was she called Suki?"

  Ally shrugs but I guess he recognises my desperation; it's a pretty universal condition. After a moment his face folds into a wrinkled, nostalgic grin. "Women," he says, and nods as if this explains everything. "You need to sort yourself out, T," he says it like he's offering advice, not like someone who just sacked me. "You can't take a rick out looking like that. Get yourself home and sort yourself out for tomorrow. Don't be fucking late." He heads off across the garage as if nothing happened.

  I just stand there until Pete grabs my arm and hustles me outside. He's going on about how lucky I am not to be on my way to the hospital. He tells me I'm an idiot but I get the feeling that my looney show also convinced him that I'm dry. At least he's laughing in a good way. "That was fucking legend, man. Wait till the guys hear what they missed."

  I give him his T-shirt back and say, "Thanks."

  He starts giving me some advice, telling me to go home, but I'm not really paying attention. I've got other things on my mind. Suki called. She cared enough to call.

  "You should go home," Pete says it again as if he knows I'm not getting it. "Get yourself sorted out."

  It's good advice but I need to see Suki; partly because I can't stop thinking about the kids and how wrong that all felt. She's the only one who might understand. On my way out I hear that one of the drivers has a pick up at the park and I get a lift. I need to get to the boat as fast as I can. I'm thinking that she must have a day off if she's been calling the garage. When I get to the boat the door's open. I don't stop to think it through. There's not much room in my head for anything but what happened with the ghosts, and Suki.

  But when I get inside, Suki's not
there. Jess is sitting at the table. As usual she's fiddling with beads and stuff. When I come barging in she looks up and pins me with her cold blue eyes. Her gaze sweeps up and down. "Nice look, Tommy, blood and puke. But it's a bit deranged psycho killer don't you think?"

  This is not exactly what I expect from her, and I don't know how to deal. So I wait.

  "Suki's just about going out of her mind after the stunt you pulled last night," she says it with a hint of I told you so in her voice.

  I don't do any better with a response. As I've yet to manage a word; it's getting a bit weird.

  Jess fixes me with a really mean look. "Try to at least act like a normal person, Tommy, say something or get out." She gets up from the table and comes towards me.

  "Sorry, I was looking for Suki." I back up a step which is pretty dumb but it seems to amuse her.

  "She's not here." She picks up a cell phone. "Go and sit down." It comes out like she's ordering a dog around. She waits until I obey then says, "Stay there. I'll call Suki and tell her you're all right. Then you can tell me what happened and this time I want the truth. You get one more chance from me, that's all."

  She goes outside to make the call. By the time she comes back I've got it together a bit. This doesn't help much as I realise the state I'm in sitting on her sofa. I wonder why she didn't just chuck me out.

  Jess stays in the kitchen and puts the kettle on. She pretty much ignores me while she makes coffee. But somehow I feel better just sitting there.

  She brings me the coffee and goes back to her seat at the table. Beads rattle as she clears a space for her mug. My heart beats an anxious little tattoo. We've been here before. But I think maybe this time the atmosphere is slightly different.

  "There's something about the boat, something safe." I try to find the right words. I felt it before but not when Jess was around.

  She nods. "You have to tell me everything, Tommy." For the first time I don't hear anger in her voice. She's not nasty about it this time. No 'last chance' speech, but I know that doesn't mean she's on my side.

  So I tell her about the house and the ghosts. It sort of feels wrong, like I should be telling this to Suki. But I know I don't have a choice and it's actually easier to tell Jess. I make the story simple, giving her some of the ghosts' stories. I don't tell her about Danny. I tell myself that's too personal, and too complicated.

  She lets me talk. When I'm done she sits for a while playing with the beads, shaping them into patterns on the table. I think she believes me, which is an amazing relief. It's the first time I've told anyone.

  As the silence grows I feel weird. Telling the story I've left a lot of things out. But something in the telling means I can't quite hide them from myself any longer. Things start to push into my mind. Things I don't like.

  "How did this start?" It's her first question and it cuts way too close to the stuff in my head.

  "I was drunk, dossing at the old house, like I said. That's all I know."

  "Did anything like this ever happen to you before?"

  I shake my head, and try to look as if I can't think of anything.

  "Nothing happened that might be related? Nothing bad, or weird?"

  I shake my head again. It's easier to lie without words. "No, just wasted and sleeping in the old house. Wrong place, wrong time, I guess." It's not true. I can't even make myself believe it anymore. Not after Danny. Not after the awfulness of last night. But I can't admit it.

  She doesn't push but I can tell she's not satisfied. Then she asks me the question I've been dreading.

  "What happened at the restaurant last night, Tommy?"

  I know what she means straight off. "The ghosts called. I didn't want to abandon Suki, but I had to leave. It's not like they give me a choice." I say it quick. I don't want her to ask me for details.

  But she won't leave it. "Suki said she felt something. It was pretty intense. Then you ran out like the place was on fire. What happened?" She watches my face. "Did it feel as if the ghosts wanted to hurt her?"

  The way she nails it so easily makes me shiver. I search for an answer, trying to avoid the snowball of panic filling up my head. It's an idea so bad and I don't even want to think about it. "The ghosts don't care about what happens to me," I say. "They're fixed on what they want. I guess it's the same if someone gets in their way." It's the best I can do and it's true as far as it goes. It's enough if I really pretend I'm just some innocent sucked into this thing. But that's not working so well anymore.

  It hits me like a baseball bat to the head. If this is my fault. If it's something other than random, then it is dangerous and not just for me. Last night proves it.

  I shouldn't be here.

  The truth fries through me like an electric shock. I get up off the sofa and head to the kitchen. I swill the coffee mug under the tap and wonder how to get out without burning all my bridges.

  Jess follows me. "Tommy?"

  I stare at her. "What you said about the ghosts, if it's dangerous for Suki. You're right. I shouldn't be here."

  "I don't think I said that, Tommy."

  Finally she's being okay and it's way too late. But that's not her fault. I say, "No, but it's what you meant."

  She shakes her head once. "I meant that these things can be dangerous to mess with." She watches as I head to the door. "You need to find out what this is about." She hesitates. "Stuff like this can get out of hand." It sounds like she knows this from experience. "If you go, what will you do?"

  I'm surprised she even asks. "I don't know."

  "I think you should at least wait and see Suki."

  Perhaps she's right, but how can she know when I haven't told her everything. I'm only just starting to put it together in my head even though I guess it's been there all along. Cognitive dissonance I think they call it. Reality bites and the bitch picks her moments.

  "Tell her I'll come by and see her." It's a lie. Two more steps and it's all over.

  "Tommy!"

  She sounds pissed off but I don't look back. This is what she wanted all along. She should be pleased. She won out after all. I wonder how she knew.

  I turn the wrong way along the towpath, heading away from the park and out of town. There's no way I can see Suki now. The stuff that's whirling through my head is too awful.

  I head past the last of the boats and cross over a wooden bridge. On the other side of the river I take a narrow path towards the canal. There are cuttings and pools all over and I weave among them, crossing bridges, to a place where there are no boats, or people. I end up leaning over the parapet of an old stone bridge, staring into an offshoot of the canal. It goes nowhere and the water is dead and black and holds my reflection like a mirror.

  I'm thinking about Danny, the ghosts, and the kids. I don't understand any of it and I don't know where to start. It terrifies me. It's the sort of stuff they lock you up for raving about. I can't put it on Suki. Even if she believed me, it's too much. That's too hard to take, so I tell myself the thing with Suki's not done, just postponed until I sort this out. First I have to understand what's happening to me.

  Understand it; I haven't understood anything since that night. It's hard to know one moment can ruin your life. But I can't swallow that lump of self-pity. Not when Danny's death sits in that same moment. I hear his head crack on the tarmac. Or maybe that's a sound I made up. Self inflicted torture to make myself suffer. The memory is too much. I try to shut it all away again. But reality has hold now and the box won't stay shut.

  I don't like what I'm thinking. I don't want to believe that Danny would do this to me. Framing the thought makes me feel like I've really lost it. Then I think what it would mean if I'm right about this and that takes me way down into the dark place. I try to shut it out, but it won't leave me alone.

  I try to work it through, like a problem. Come up with an answer. But I can't believe Danny would pull others into his revenge. But I guess the ghosts get what they want. Or what they think they want. Except for Laurie
and Joe. That thought scares me shitless. It felt as if the kids didn't really want to be there, and they didn't leave; it felt like they were pushed out. If I'm not crazy, what does that mean? What would've happened if they'd stayed in me? It's enough to scare me back into a bottle. Or down into the canal's mirror dark water. A leaf drifts down and hits the surface. I stare at my wrecked reflection. But what can I expect on the other side? I choke on a laugh. Way to fuck up, Tommy.

  A breeze gets up. More leaves drift down from the trees and settle on the black water. I imagine falling endlessly through the dark. Like Danny.

  That day comes back to me. A sunny afternoon, we both cut lectures and head over to this old house we've found, a grand ruin on the edge of Oxford, deserted, waiting for the developers. We've found a way through the fence and yanked a couple of boards off one of the downstairs windows. Inside the place stinks. The plaster's rotting off the walls and upstairs half the floors are gone. It's dangerous, but we've scouted it out. We head up to the roof. We've been up there before. It's huge, bigger than a tennis court, split off by chimneys and gables. There's a parapet all around and amazing views. You can see for miles. King of the world stuff.

  Danny's brought beer and pizza. I've brought a couple of bottles of vodka. My second year at college and it's all about the booze. At first it's all good. We lie in the sun and talk the usual shit. Danny's got big plans; he's going to be a hotshot barrister, a judge one day. He tells me how it's all coming together for him. I drink more than I talk. My plans are already sliding away; maybe I'm jealous and don't know it.

  The sun starts to set.

  We've known each other since high school, been best mates for years. Danny keeps trying to sort me out and I've started to resent it a bit. He tries again that night. I'm pissed and nasty. In the end he grabs the vodka bottles, one full one nearly empty, jumps up and heads over to the parapet. There are security lights on. He steps up there, like he's on the stage, all cocky. "This is your future, pissing away," he says and tips the first bottle. Then he chucks the empty bottle. It arcs through the air glittering in the lights. It seems a long while before we hear it smash. He still has the full bottle. At that moment it's all I want from my future. Even now, I wonder if everything would've been different if he'd started with the full bottle.