by John Larkin
‘Look, Brains!’ said Brendan, getting really angry. ‘You don’t know everything. And now, thanks to you and Zervoid, Ms Cunningham thinks I’m gay.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Well, you told her I was bottling something up. I had to give her something or I’d be on my way to the funny farm by now.’
Brains burst out laughing.
‘Yeah, really funny, Brains. You know what she’s like. She’s really open about things like that—she’ll probably start giving me some of her back copies of Playgirl.’
Brains was rolling around the carpet in fits of laughter.
‘It’s not that funny, dickweed,’ said Brendan, ‘and besides, she’ll probably give you a couple of copies as well.’
‘What?’ Brains got to his feet and dried his eyes. ‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because I told her that you were my boyfriend.’
‘You did not!’
‘Where’s the gag now?’
‘Thanks, mate,’ said Brains, slumping down on Ducky’s bed. ‘You know I’ve always had a crush on her.’
‘Relax,’ said Brendan. ‘I didn’t.’
Brains breathed a huge sigh of relief.
‘How long have we been friends, Brains?’
‘Since kindergarten.’
‘Since playlunch on the first day of kindergarten,’ corrected Brendan. ‘And how’d we become friends?’
‘Ummm, Zervoid nicked my marbles and …’
‘You started bawling,’ finished Brendan. ‘And I felt really sorry for you and tried to get them back.’
‘That’s right. You ended up beating Zervoid’s fists with your body.’
‘Yeah,’ said Brendan, ‘I’ve still got some of the bruises. And, thanks to you, two hours into our academic careers me and Zervoid got labelled troublemakers. And it’s a tag that Zervoid still can’t shake.’
‘But the three of us have been the best of mates since.’
‘That’s right!’
‘What’s your point?’ said Brains, yanking them both out of reminisce mode.
‘My point is that friends should stick together, through thick and thin. I looked after you back then even though I hardly knew you. So when I tell you there’s a ghost communicating with me through the computer and make it quite clear that I’m not bullshitting, you’re supposed to believe me, not assume I’ve flipped and palm me off on some fugitive from a hippie commune.’
‘It’s not very rational though.’ Brains was hoping to add a bit of sanity to the conversation.
Brendan wanted to tell him that friends weren’t always rational, they were just friends, but he thought he’d let it ride. Brains’d figure it out for himself if he was that smart.
‘Okay,’ said Brains, turning to the monitor. ‘So where is he?’
>
Ahh, now there was the problem. Apparently having convinced Brains that there might be a grain of truth in his rantings, Brendan now had the tricky task of producing, as final proof that he wasn’t out of his mind, a ghost who might have bogged off back to York.
‘Niiick?’ Brendan was turning around in circles hoping to direct his voice to wherever it was that the ghost might be. ‘If you are here, I want you to let us know.’
>
‘C’mon, Nick, I forgive you for Saturday.’
>
‘Don’t worry about him,’ Brendan gestured towards Brains. ‘He won’t tell anybody. Will you, Brains?’
‘Err no, Brendan, I mean Nick.’
>
Brains turned to Brendan. ‘Shouldn’t we be holding hands and dancing naked round the PC or something?’
‘Maybe I will tell Ms Cunningham about you.’
Totally bored, Brains started leafing through one of Brendan’s surfing mags, obviously hoping to spot some babes.
>
‘Look, Nick! Please prove to him that I’m not mad.’
>
‘Okay! Prove to me that I’m not mad.’
>
‘If you start communicating after he’s gone home, I swear I’ll race down to the nearest church, get a priest and have you exorcised or dispersed or whatever it is you’re afraid of.’
>
Well, that did it, didn’t it? Brains was lying on Ducky’s bed getting off on some aerial shots of Wendy Botha, Nick wasn’t having anything to do with them and, according to all the available evidence, Brendan had gone totally and utterly bonkers.
Just when Brendan was thinking about spontaneously combusting, the monitor flickered.
‘Brendan,’ said Brains, ‘can I borrow this mag?’
‘Brains! Look at the screen!’ Brendan said it as quietly as he could in case the glow vanished.
Brains covered his groin with the magazine, reluctantly sat up and glanced over at the monitor.
> I’M REALLY SORRY ABOUT SATURDAY, BRENDAN.
Brendan looked at Brains. He was still sitting on Ducky’s bed, but his jaw was scraping the ground.
‘Buuuu! Heethl there, is,’ said Brains. ‘Who he, are it thingy is …’ he added in the hope that this might clarify things.
‘It’s okay about Saturday, Nick,’ said Brendan.
Brains practised formulating sentences in the background. ‘He that, really is isn’t he there …’
> IT JUST FELT SO GOOD TO BE IN A BODY AGAIN, ESPECIALLY ONE THAT WAS YOUNG AND HEALTHY. I GUESS I WENT A BIT CRAZY.
Brendan looked at Brains. His tongue was doing push ups while his eyes had worked out their own exercise routine.
‘We’ll talk about it later, Nick. That’s enough for now—I think Brains’ head’s full.’
Brendan escorted Brains out to the backyard. He sat him on an old deck chair and went back inside. He came back out a few seconds later with a glass of water, which he poured over Brains’ head. This seemed to do the job.
‘What happened?’ said Brains, shaking the excess water from his hair and the excess thoughts from his mind.
‘You know what happened,’ said Brendan. ‘You were the same as me—it’s a bit too much to take in.’
Brains dipped his hand into the pool and washed his face.
‘Man, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.’
‘Doesn’t matter! You do now, that’s enough.’
‘Man! You’ve actually got a ghost in your computer. He must take up a few megs. But, but what are you gunna do with him?’
‘Find out what he wants. He said something about getting his life back. If I can help him I will, then he’s gunna help me.’
‘How?’
‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you if it works.’
Brendan walked Brains round to the front of the house and helped him onto his bike. He was still blithering a bit, but provided he didn’t get flagged down by any random brain test unit on the way home he’d probably make it okay.
‘Don’t tell anyone about this!’ yelled Brendan as Brains pedalled off.
‘I won’t!’ a voice yelled back through the darkness.
‘Now,’ Brendan said to himself as he walked back inside, ‘what does Nick want?’
Chapter 16
‘Mum! Bed!’ said Brendan as he walked past the lounge room. She’d fallen asleep, as usual, on the lounge reading another SBS movie.
He went into his room and flicked the computer on again.
‘Okay, Nick. Saturday’s forgotten about, but you’re not getting into my body again for breakfast or anything.’
> FAIR ENOUGH.
‘What do you want from me? And I know it’s more than breakfast.’
> I WANT MY LIFE BACK.
‘What happened to yours?’
Nick went on to tell Brendan all about how he’d been murdered about a hundred years ago by a Scot named Hamish Campbell. Nick had owned a small gift shop in York called ‘Nick’s Nik-Nacks’. Brendan found it hard to keep a straight face when Nick told him the name. But apparently he and Campbell had been in love with the same girl. And the only way Campbell could h
ave her was by getting Nick out of the way.
‘What was she like?’ interrupted Brendan.
> SHE WAS, WHAT YOU MIGHT CALL, TECHNICALLY SPEAKING, A TOTAL BABE.
‘Bummer.’
> ME AND CAMPBELL WERE FRIENDS, YOU SEE. I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THAT HE WAS IN LOVE WITH HER UNTIL WE WENT FISHING ONE DAY AND HE SMASHED ME ON THE HEAD WITH AN OAR AND SENT ME TO SLEEP WITH THE EELS.
‘Total bummer.’
Nick then told Brendan about how Campbell took over his shop, his girl and his life. But because Nick had died an unnatural death, all he had to do was catch whoever had killed him, in this case Campbell, and he’d get his life back.
‘But isn’t your body all decayed and that?’
> YOU NEEDN’T WORRY ABOUT THAT. IT’LL BE TAKEN CARE OF.
‘Well, it should be easy. All you’ve got to do is get Campbell, right? I can’t see what’s taken you so long.’
> HE’S A SLIPPERY CHARACTER. KEEPS HIDING IN PEOPLE.
‘In them?’
> RIGHT. THERE’S NOTHING MUCH I CAN DO TO GET A GHOST OUT OF SOMEBODY. HAVE TO WAIT TILL THE PERSON DIES, USUALLY, THEN THEY BOTH COME OUT.
‘So it’s a sort of possession?’
> THERE’S NOTHING “SORT OF” ABOUT IT. HE TAKES OVER THE BODY AND EVENTUALLY THE MIND. LIVES HIS OR HER LIFE AS IF IT WAS HIS OWN.
‘Is that where Campbell is now? He’s taken over some poor person’s body.’
> YES.
‘You mean, he can just sneak up on somebody and take over?’
> NO, IT’S NOT THAT EASY. THE PERSON HAS TO BE VULNERABLE. A BIT DEPRESSED IF YOU LIKE.
Brendan thought about this for a couple of minutes. There was a connection there somewhere but he was stuffed if he could figure out what it was. ‘But how can I help you?’
> LIKE I SAID. A GHOST CAN’T GET ANOTHER GHOST OUT OF SOMEONE, BUT SOMETIMES A HUMAN CAN.
‘So what do you want me to do?’
> I NEED YOU TO COME BACK WITH ME.
‘What, back to York?’
> YES.
‘But it costs heaps to fly there, and I’ve got school and all that.’
> I FORGOT TO EXPLAIN.
‘Explain what?’
> WE WON’T BE GOING BACK BY PLANE. I ONLY CAME THAT WAY TO FOLLOW YOU. THERE’S A QUICKER WAY OF GOING.
‘What quicker way?’
> GHOSTS CAN BE ANY PLACE THEY LIKE AT ANY TIME THEY LIKE, JUST BY THINKING.
‘That’s okay for you, you’re a ghost. What about me?’
> THAT’S THE BIT I FORGOT TO EXPLAIN. I HAVE TO KILL YOU FIRST.
Chapter 17
Snort, snarl, mumble.
‘Brendan! Wake up!’
Snarl, mumble, snort. ‘That …’
‘Brendan! I’m going to call an ambulance.’
Brendan shook his head. ‘Mum?’
‘Yes, Brendan, it’s me.’
Slowly he came round.
‘What are you doing in here?’ Brendan was totally spaced.
‘I was watching a lovely Polish film called Magda and her Wooden Shoe when I heard what sounded a lot like a body slumping to the ground. I raced in here and found you looking a lot like a body that had slumped to the ground.’
Now he remembered. Nick wanted to kill him. So that’s what Saturday was all about. He needed help and he was prepared to kill to get it.
‘It’s okay, Mum. I must have stood up too quickly or something.’
‘Probably “or something”, wasn’t it?’ she said with a wry look that Brendan had trouble interpreting. ‘Get into bed and I’ll tuck you in.’
Brendan crawled into bed while his mother pulled his doona up around him. Then she held his cheeks. ‘Who’s a snuggly wuggly little dumple wumple?’
‘Mum! I only fainted. I didn’t have half my brain removed.’
After trying to convince him that he would still be her snuggly wuggly little dumple wumple no matter how old he got, she left the room and returned to Magda and the goings on in her Warsaw cobbler’s shop.
As soon as his door was closed, Brendan leapt out of bed and faced the monitor.
‘Get back, Nick! Back! Back!’ Brendan held up his two index fingers in a crossed position like they did in bad vampire movies.
‘Get thee back to the foul pits of hell whence thou camest.’ He didn’t know why, but he thought that quoting his English teacher might help drive this hard discbound demon from his bedroom.
> DO I TAKE IT FROM THIS DISPLAY YOU DON’T WANT TO HELP?
‘You said you were going to kill me.’
> YES, BUT ONLY FOR A BIT.
‘What? You can’t kill someone for a bit. I’ve never heard of someone being murdered and then going to a police line-up to identify the killer.’
> IF I COULD JUST GET A WORD IN.
‘No! Forget it, Nick.’
> BUT I NEED YOUR HELP.
‘Then we’ll have to think of something else.’
> LIKE WHAT?
‘I’ll catch a bus or hitchhike or something.’
> IT’S SLOW.
‘You’re not killing me. End of story! And even if I do help you, what do I get out of it?’
> WHAT DO YOU WANT?
Yeah, now this was more like it.
‘Well, first, as we agreed, I want to get back with Helen. Then I want to win my school’s under sixteen one hundred metres freestyle race. And then I want my dad and Ducky to come home.’
> THAT’S IT?
‘If you can grant me those three wishes, you’ve got a deal.’
> WAIT A MINUTE. WHAT’S WITH THIS GRANTING THREE WISHES BUSINESS? WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM? A GENIE? I DIDN’T COME OUT OF SOME BOTTLE.
‘No, you came out of my wardrobe.’
The monitor went dead. Nick appeared to be taking everything in.
About a minute later it flickered back on.
> IF I CAN HELP YOU WITH TWO OF THOSE THINGS, WOULD YOU HELP ME?
‘Okay, you’ve got a deal.’
> WHEN CAN WE GO?
It was the swimming carnival next week. Then it was school holidays about two weeks after that. He’d tell his mum that he was going on a camp or something. She’d be happy to have the house to herself for a bit. She might even sling him some cash. ‘About three weeks.’
> SOUNDS FINE TO ME.
Of course it was. He’d been dead for around a hundred years. Three weeks wasn’t going to kill him.
‘Okay. Could you go back to the wardrobe now? I’m totally stuffed and I’d like to get some sleep.’
> NO.
‘What?’
> GET UP! HIT THE POOL AND GIVE ME TEN QUICK LAPS!
‘Are you kidding me?’
> LIKE I SAID. I’M NOT A GENIE. THE ONLY WAY I CAN HELP YOU OUT IS BY HELPING YOU HELP YOURSELF. NOW GET UP.
Twenty minutes later, Brendan’s mother came out the back and told him off for swimming in the middle of the night.
Chapter 18
When Brendan got to Brains’ house the following Friday night it was almost seven o’clock. He had to really push the old BMX to the absolute max over the last couple of k’s because anyone who showed up to video night after seven got the first of the many rumbles of the night.
The rule was you had to turn up with a video and a bag of something sticky.
Brendan had Terminator II and a half-eaten bag of Frogs stuffed down his shirt. But by the time he’d pedalled up the hill to get to Brains’ house, the heat had caused the Frogs to start melting, so when he finally arrived, the video and the Frogs were one congealed mass of red and green. It didn’t matter though. Calculus would eat them. He’d eat anything.
Brendan said a quick hello to Mr and Mrs Brains, or Mr and Mrs Simpson as they preferred to be called, raced into Brains’ bedroom and bagsed his spare bed. Zervoid and Calculus hadn’t turned up so they’d have to make do with their sleeping bags on the floor.
‘What’s with your clock radio?’ Brendan nodded to where it was lying smashed to
pieces by his bed.
‘It’s a long story.’ Brains was fiddling about with the wiring in his video recorder.
When Zervoid and Calculus finally showed up, Zervoid bagsed Brains’ bed while Brains and Calculus busied themselves setting up the video.
‘Why do you two have to complicate things?’ said Brendan. ‘Just put the lead from the video recorder into the TV and press the play button. I don’t know why you have to rewire it through the CD player and your computer every time.’
‘To make the sound more realistic,’ said Brains.
‘Wouldn’t have anything to do with you two trying to impress us, would it?’ said Zervoid. ‘Because if it is, we’re not.’
‘Not what?’ said Calculus.
‘Impressed. You two with all your sciency stuff, it doesn’t impress us. In fact I was more impressed with what I left in the toilet bowl about an hour ago,’ said Zervoid.
‘Well, at least you went before you came,’ said Brains. ‘Last time, after you’d finished in our toilet, my dad had to spend ages in there beating down that thing you left behind. It took him and his broom handle about an hour to break it down into flushable pieces.’
‘Well, they get attached to me. If I don’t drop them in our toilet, they try to hang around. I did one at my aunt’s house once, and by the time we got home it was sitting there in our bowl. It’d made its way from Rockdale, through the sewer system and back home. The world’s first homing …’
‘You’re gross, Zervoid,’ interrupted Brendan. ‘I reckon if they had a gross Olympics, you’d be Australia’s captain.’
‘I had a cat once that did something like that,’ said Calculus.
‘What?’ said Zervoid. ‘Captained Australia at the gross Olympics?’
‘No, dickweed. When we moved here from Newcastle our cat took off. Our old next-door neighbour found her a couple of weeks later. She was lying on the front lawn back in Newcastle. She was real skinny and her paws were covered in blood. When we got her back home we had to make the new house look a bit more like the old one in Newcastle so she’d stay.’
‘How?’ said Brains. ‘Did your old man set up a ship building industry in the backyard or something?’