Drive By

by Jim Carrington

  ‘I still can’t get over it,’ Summer says as we walk along the path. ‘You helping my grandad up.’

  I nod my head. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What happened?’

  I don’t really want to talk about this. I don’t want her to start thinking I’m some kind of hero when the truth is the complete opposite. ‘I just happened to be walking past when he fell,’ I say. ‘It was coincidence, that’s all. It could have been anyone.’

  ‘It’s amazing it was you,’ Summer says, and she links arms with me. ‘Don’t you think? It’s fate again, isn’t it?’

  ‘Maybe. Anyone else would have done the same though.’

  Summer shakes her head. ‘Don’t be so modest.’

  I don’t reply. What is there to say other than the truth?

  ‘You know, my grandad gave me the money you wouldn’t take earlier,’ she says. ‘He told me to spend it on you.’

  ‘That’s kind of him, but he doesn’t need to give me his money. He said thank you already.’

  ‘I want to thank you though,’ Summer says.

  In my head, I imagine turning to her, telling her the truth and then marching off. In reality, I keep on walking, my arm awkwardly linked through hers, hating myself more and more with every passing second that I don’t tell her the truth.

  ‘We could spend it in the café?’ Summer says. ‘Or hire a rowing boat again?’ She turns to look at me. She has a smile on her face. It looks kind of suggestive.

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t feel like rowing,’ I say. ‘Not today.’

  She looks slightly crestfallen. ‘Right,’ she says. ‘The café, then?’

  I nod my head. ‘OK.’

  Summer

  Well, that was weird. I’m confused. Did I misread the signs and totally imagine there was something between us? Has my summer been so boring that I made all this up to make it more interesting? Or have I just put Johnny off me? Something definitely doesn’t feel right.

  As soon as I got home I started reading Catcher again, from the start. For the hundredth-and-God-knows-how-many time. The real world is way too complicated and confusing a place to be right now. I’d rather be in Holden’s world, where nothing, no matter how rubbish, has any effect on my life, where nothing unexpected can come along and spoil everything. Holden’s life may suck monumentally, but at least his life sucks in a cool kind of way. Mine just sucks in the stupidest, most lonely and boring way possible.

  I can’t stay in Holden’s world for ever though. I have to rejoin the real world at some point. So after a bit I put my bookmark in and then pick up my phone. I start to write a text.

  Hi, Johnny. It was nice 2 c u earlier. Hope everything’s OK. Call me if you want to talk X

  I send it. I keep my phone in my hand and stare at it, willing him to reply, to say something like, sorry I was weird earlier. I sit and stare at my phone for ages and no text arrives. He’s ignoring me, I know it. So after a while I decide to go back into Holden’s world.

  Johnny

  I’m walking down Exminster Avenue when I look up and see her. Summer. She doesn’t see me though; she’s looking in the other direction, back turned. I feel a tug of guilt in the pit of my stomach. A familiar feeling. How can I live with myself after what I’ve done? I killed the grandma and tried to seduce the granddaughter. Really, does it get any lower than that?

  My instinct is to run and never look back. I want to get so far away from her, from what I’ve done, that it’ll never find me. I can’t let the past catch up with me. So that’s exactly what I do. I start running as fast as I can, legs and arms pumping, to the end of Exminster Avenue and then out on to the main road. I keep taking turnings as they appear – left, right, left, left – so that I’m difficult to follow, difficult to find.

  After a few minutes I’m somewhere I don’t recognise, running along roads I don’t know. The houses by the side of the road start to thin and before long I’m out in the countryside, running past fields. I cut across one of the fields, run along a rutted track and end up in a forest. I dart through the trees, then follow the course of a river. I cover the ground effortlessly, almost gliding along, up a hill, along a ridge. The sky above me is a brilliant blue.

  I chance a glance over my shoulder and, to my horror, there she is, Summer, keeping up with me without breaking a sweat. She looks amazingly beautiful. Her eyes bore into mine, like she can see inside me, right into my soul. She reaches an arm out for me. She calls me.

  ‘Johnny. Don’t run.’

  But I have to. I have to get away from her. I try to quicken my pace, to pump my arms and legs more quickly, but I’m slowing, barely moving forward. Summer is catching up with every step, grasping distance away. I reach the top of the ridge and take a second to look down at the valley below. I take one last look at Summer, then I launch myself over the ridge. I open my arms, spread my wings and I’m soaring. It’s peaceful up here. I can’t hear a thing.

  But then I sense something next to me. I turn my head and look. Summer is there, soaring like me, enormous black wings extended. She looks at me and smiles, then reaches out a hand and holds my arm.

  ‘Johnny, where are you going?’

  I open my mouth to answer, but my tongue ties itself in a knot. I can’t speak. I can’t tell her the truth.

  Summer pulls me towards her, wraps me in an embrace, folding her wings around me.

  ‘You’re my hero, Johnny,’ she says, and she kisses me tenderly on the neck. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  I freeze at her touch, at her words.

  ‘What’s the matter, Johnny? Don’t you like me?’

  I try to wriggle free from her grasp.

  ‘Johnny?’

  She holds me tightly. There’s no way out. None at all. I’m stuck.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she says.

  ‘I . . . It’s . . .’ The words won’t come out.

  Before my eyes, Summer starts to change. Her face begins to wrinkle, like there’s a plughole in the middle of her face sucking the rest of her skin in. Creases. Liver spots. Moles. Warts. Grey hair. She’s become her grandma. She is Jean Hornby. She is the Poisoned Dwarf. She fixes me with a look that bores straight into my soul and hates what it sees there.

  ‘Murderer!’ she says. ‘You can’t run for ever.’ And then she plants her lips on mine and starts to kiss me.

  As she kisses me, it feels like she sucks the life out of me. Around us the air rushes up as we start to plunge towards the ground. Down through the clouds. Down. Down. Down.

  This is it.

  I’m gonna die.

  I wake with a start, sit up in bed and look around the room. I sigh. I thought this was over. I turn my bedside light on. The curtains are open and blowing in the breeze. The bed sheets are soaked with sweat. And there is someone here. There is something here. I’m sure. I’m not imagining it. I notice the clock. It tells me what I already know. It’s 2.43 a.m. Of course it is. Beside the clock, my phone catches my attention. It’s glowing. The message tone sounds to say I have a message. My heart thumps. Who is it at this time of night? I pick the phone up. A part of me knows that I shouldn’t look at it, but I have to. There is no way I can not look at it.

  There’s a text message from the Poisoned Dwarf. I open it up.

  Put it right or I’ll tell the police what you’ve done.

  I shiver. I look around me. How can this be happening? Who’s sending me these texts? I read it over and over again. I run my hand through my hair and over my face and I try to think. Then I have an idea. I can find who’s doing this. I hit the options button on the left of the screen and scroll down to call sender. I press the button and put the phone to my ear. For a second there’s silence, then the phone starts to ring.

  Duh-duh.

  Duh-duh.

  Duh-duh.

  As it rings, I start to wonder whether I’m doing the right thing here. I don’t know if I want someone to answer the phone or not. What would I say? Would I be too scared to say anyt
hing?

  But the phone carries on ringing.

  Duh-duh.

  Duh-duh.

  Duh-duh.

  Nobody picks it up.

  But I hear another noise in the house. I take the phone away from my ear and listen. I can hear a phone ringing. I sit and listen for a few seconds. It’s coming from somewhere out on the landing. I feel a chill. Whoever’s behind this is here now in the house with me.

  I stay where I am, motionless, too scared to move. I don’t want to know what’s out there. I just want it to go away. I look at my phone. The screen glows in the dull light of my room and I think about hanging up. But what would be the point? Whoever texted me is outside my room now. They know I’m here. There’s no hiding from it so I decide to do something about it. I get up from my bed and creep towards the door. With every step I take, the sound of the phone ringing is louder. I put my hand on the door handle and slowly turn it. I try and keep my breathing slow, try and stay calm.

  I peek around the door. My eyes dart, checking out the landing. But there’s no one there. The ringing isn’t coming from the landing. It sounds more like it’s coming from Mikey’s room. I grit my teeth. I knew it was him. I quietly step towards his room. As I get close, the ringing stops. I reach my hand out and slowly close my fingers around Mikey’s door handle. I count to three in my head, and then I burst into his room.

  Mikey is out of his bed, crossing his room. He freezes. He stops and stares at me, terrified. He looks like he realises he’s been caught. I notice his phone lying on the floor. He looks at me, then at his phone. He stoops down and grabs it.

  ‘What the hell are you doing in my room?’ he hisses. ‘It’s three o’clock in the morning, Johnny, you idiot.’

  I stare at him. ‘What am I doing? I’d like to know what you’re doing, sending me messages in the middle of the night.’

  Mikey looks confused. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You know what I’m talking about,’ I whisper. ‘The text message. You sent it just now.’

  Mikey shakes his head. ‘What text message?’ he hisses. ‘I didn’t send any text message. I was asleep till you phoned me.’

  ‘It was you,’ I say, ‘because when I pressed call sender on my phone, your phone rang. I heard it. I know it was you.’

  Mikey shakes his head again. He makes a circular movement with his index finger next to his head. ‘You’re mad, Johnny. Loopy. Messed up.’

  I stare at him and anger wells up in me. He’s been behind this all along. I’ve been thinking I’ve been going mad and all along it’s been Mikey. How could I ever have thought it was anyone but him?

  ‘You’re imagining things,’ Mikey says.

  ‘Prove it then. Give me your phone,’ I say. I hold out my hand. ‘Let me check it.’

  Mikey hides his phone behind his back. ‘No. Go away. Get out of my room.’

  I stare back at him. I move my hand closer to him. ‘Give me the phone. If the message isn’t in your sent items, I’ll leave you alone and apologise.’

  Mikey shakes his head. And for a split second he smirks. ‘I’m not giving you my phone. It was you that was calling my phone in the middle of the night. Get out of my room.’

  ‘Give me the phone,’ I say slowly, quietly, forcefully.

  ‘Get lost,’ Mikey says.

  And I lose it. Anger floods my entire being, surges through my veins. I lunge towards Mikey and knock him to the floor. He hides the phone underneath him and swings at me with his free arm. I try to turn him round to get to the phone, but he won’t budge. So I punch him in the back. THUMP. The noise of the impact is hollow. I hear the air escape out of Mikey’s lungs in one go. He gasps as he tries to re-inflate his lungs. I hit him in the back again. And again. This time the punches land with a SLAP. I get up off Mikey and pull him from the floor. He feels like a rag doll in my arms. He’s no weight at all. He looks at me. He’s struggling to get his breath back, but there’s still a look in his eyes. Mocking. He’s enjoying this. It was him. He’s been haunting me, making me think that there’s a ghost.

  I feel my fingers form themselves into fists again. And I swing at him. Right fist. Left fist. They both land on his face. THWACK. THWACK. And Mikey collapses to the floor. I catch a glimpse of blood leaking from his mouth. He raises his hand towards it and dabs at it.

  ‘Give me the phone!’ I shout.

  Mikey shakes his head. ‘You’re . . .’ He pauses to get his breath. ‘You’re gonna get in so much trouble for this.’

  I kick him in the ribs. He doubles up in pain. The phone falls from his hand and I grab it before he has a chance to.

  I go straight to his sent messages. I flick through them. There it is. Sent at 2.43 a.m. Put it right or I’ll tell the police what you’ve done.

  I stare at Mikey. He looks back at me, blood leaking from his mouth. He looks scared. Worried. For once he’s not smirking.

  ‘You little freak,’ I say.

  ‘What?’ Mikey says. His words sound wet, like he’s spitting the words at me, like they’re coated in blood and sweat and saliva, but they’re defiant.

  I stare at him. I don’t understand him. I can’t begin to understand what’s going through his brain.

  Mikey dabs the blood at his mouth. He looks at his hand, then shakes his head. ‘You need help, Johnny. You’re not normal.’ And then he clutches at his ribs and winces.

  I toss his phone towards him. It hits him on the head. And then I turn on my heels and leave his room. He’s right. I have lost it. I am mental. I don’t know what’s real any more. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who anyone is. I’m paranoid. I’m scared. I’m angry. I’m crazy. I don’t like it. I don’t like me. And I don’t like Mikey. I hate Mikey.

  Just then I hear movement from Mum and Dad’s room. I have to get out of here. I rush back across the landing to my room, pull on some clothes and throw some things into a bag.

  As I leave my room, Dad comes out of their bedroom, pulling his dressing gown on.

  ‘What’s all the noise?’ he says.

  I stand where I am, frozen. ‘Nothing,’ I say.

  He realises something isn’t quite right though. ‘Why are you dressed?’

  ‘I’m going out,’ I say. ‘There’s something I have to do.’

  ‘It’s the middle of the night,’ Dad says.

  But I’m already walking down the stairs.

  ‘Johnny,’ he calls after me. ‘It’s the middle of the night! Come back here!’

  I ignore him. I’m halfway down the stairs. I run the rest of the way. I hear Dad starting to come after me, Mum coming out of her room and Mikey talking to her.

  I open the front door and step out into the night. And then I start running.

  Summer

  My phone wakes me at about seven. I have no idea who could be texting at that time in the morning, so I ignore it for a while, turn over and try to go back to sleep. It doesn’t take long before my curiosity gets the better of me though and I sit up in bed. I reach over to my bedside table and grab my phone.

  A text from Johnny. I open it right away. Hi. Can I see you today? J

  And that’s it. I text him right back and say yes.

  I start to wonder why he’s texting me at this time of the morning asking me to meet him. I try and work out whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing. He was acting weird yesterday. Maybe he wants to apologise. Or maybe I’m reading too much into a text message.

  While I’m thinking, my phone buzzes again. Another message from Johnny. Meet me in the park @ 9?

  I reply. OK. I’ll be there.

  I think about what the time is now and I realise I better get up and get showered.

  Johnny

  I couldn’t stay in the house, not with Mum and Dad awake. Not after what had just happened. I had to get away. I was so angry and confused and embarrassed. I didn’t know what to think or what to do.

  As soon as I closed the front door, I started running. I didn’t know where I was
going. I just knew I had to get away and I knew that Dad might try and follow me. So I took a route he wouldn’t be able to predict, weaving through a maze of streets. To begin with, I was filled with adrenaline. My jaw was clenched. I felt like lashing out at anything that was in my path and I did – litter, leaves, traffic cones all got kicked.

  I didn’t think about where I was heading – I was just trying to get away so no one would find me. But I soon realised that I was heading in the direction of Wimbledon. I kept going. My phone rang as I was walking. I looked at it. For a mad moment, I thought it was gonna be the Poisoned Dwarf. But it was Dad calling. I ignored it. He left a voicemail, which I didn’t listen to. I switched my phone off and kept walking.

  There was no one around. I guess there wouldn’t be at three in the morning. A couple of cars cruised past. A police car slowed as it saw me. The officers inside looked me up and down and it made me completely paranoid. I wondered whether Dad had called the police to let them know I’d run away, but the police car kept going, cruising through the night. An empty night bus trundled along the road. A few drunk people wobbled along the pavement on their way home.

  As I walked, the birds started to sing and light gradually crept into the sky. I didn’t want it to because if it started to get light, it was the beginning of another day and that would mean that soon the streets would start filling with people going about their normal everyday lives. And I couldn’t cope with that. I wanted the night to go on and on and on, to hide me away from the world. I needed time to be alone, to think.

  I walked for about an hour. And as I slowly calmed down, I thought things through. What I’d done and how I felt and whether this mess could ever be sorted.

  I drew a line right there. I started to work out how I was gonna make things better and I realised that although it’s gonna be difficult and painful and messy and horrible, I can do it.

  From now on, I’m gonna make the right decisions.

  I stopped walking eventually. I sat down on a bench in the park. And I started working on the future. I switched on my phone and deleted all the messages which Mum and Dad had left, and I wrote some of my own.