Trust Me Too

by Paul Collins

  The boys enter the scrub, dodging felled trees and densely grassed patches that might conceal ankle snapping holes or worse. Everything here is dying of thirst. Sticks and dead grass crunch beneath their feet. When a stray breeze stirs, the sparse foliage topping the gum trees rattles like bones.

  After twenty minutes, Adam says, ‘How much further d’ya reckon?’

  Hari looks over his shoulder. His top lip lifts in a sneer. ‘Aw, is Addie-waddie getting tired?’

  Holding Adam back, Jarn says, ‘It’s a good ques tion. Do you know where you’re going?’

  ‘Course. For your information, we’re more or less in the right place.’ Hari points to a downed gum tree lousy with termites. ‘We’ll make that our base and each search a couple hundred metres in a different direction.’ He drops his pack beside the tree.

  ‘Might want to check for snakes before you sit on that,’ Jarn says.

  ‘If I find one I’ll let Addie have it.’ Hari smirks.

  ‘And maybe I’ll wrap it round your pencil neck and strangle you with it,’ Adam says.

  ‘Not if you’re dead from a poisoned bite, you won’t.’

  ‘I’d strangle you before I die.’

  ‘As if You couldn’t strangle a budgie with those girly arms.’

  Jarn refuses to listen to any more. He storms into the trees, kicking rocks and leaves and whatever else gets in his way. He shouldn’t force his friends together. It’s obvious they’ll never get on.

  After a few minutes, Jarn stops to shake off a spider’s web he’s walked through. When he’s done, he looks up and sees a charred patch of ground up ahead. Without a second thought, he hurries towards it. The patch is a crater several metres in diameter. The trees encircling the crater are all burnt. Jarn’s nostrils twinge with the smell of smoke. The air tastes of ashes and metal.

  He walks to the edge of the crater. It isn’t very deep, maybe half a metre at its centre. It might have contained a bonfire made by human hands, butjarn doesn’t think so. A fire this large and burning as hot as it must have burned to blacken the earth that way should have set the bush alight for kilometres around. Yet apart from the first row of trees, the surrounding scrub remains untouched.

  Jarn paces out the circumference of the crater. It appears to be a perfect circle. As he completes his cir cumnavigation, sunlight sparks at the crater’s heart. He jerks to a stop, slaps a palm to his eyes, and then peers between his fingers. His heart leaps. There is something metallic down there.

  Jarn steps into the crater. Clouds of fine, black ash puff up with each footfall. Reaching the centre of the charred circle, he squats and stirs the ash with a hand. His fingertips brush a solid object. Grasping it, he lifts it into the light. It’s a black cube roughly the size and weight of a golf ball. Jarn palms the cube and walks out of the pit.

  Hari and Adam emerge from the trees. ‘Phew, I smell barbecue,’ Hari says. Then spottingJarn adds,

  ‘Find anything?’

  Jarn stamps the dust from his feet. His jeans are black from the knees down. He opens his hand to reveal the cube resting on his palm. ‘What do you reckon this is?’

  Hari squints at it. ‘That’s just a lump of charcoal.’ Jarn turns the cube over and looks at the silver patch on one corner. This must have been what caught the sunlight. He spits on the cube and rubs it with the tail of his T-shirt. The soot wipes away eas ily to reveal a strangely cold cube of dull silver metal.

  ‘Never seen nothing like that before,’ Adam says.

  ‘Think it fell off a satellite or something?’ He looks atjarn.

  ‘How the frig would he know?’ Hari snaps. ‘Geez, you say some dumb things.’

  Jarn rubs the pad of his thumb over each one of the cube’s faces. The metal is as smooth and seamless as an ice cube.

  ‘I’ll take your word for it seemg as you’re the expert on dumb,’ Adam shoots back.

  ‘You’re one clever comment away from living on soup for the next year!’ Hari warns.

  Beneathjarn’s thumb the metal grows noticeably warmer. Before he even has time to wonder about this, the cube emits a burst of brilliant white light which strikes Adam square between the eyes. Jarn drops the cube in shock.

  ‘Holy mother of mayhem!’ Hari yells.

  For a drawn-out moment all is silent. Then a bird squawks and the wind rattles the leaves.

  Finally Jarn’s jaw unlocks. dam, mate, are . .. are you okay?’

  Adam stares vacantly, mouth ajar. Then a big dopey grin breaks his face in two. He leaps at Jarn, throws his arms around him and squeezes hard enough to crack ribs. ‘I love you, man.’

  ‘What the ...?’ Hari says, and then Adam falls on him.

  ‘I love you too, mate. You’re tops.’ Adam follows this declaration with several hearty whacks to Hari’s back.

  ‘Get OFF!’ Hari gives Adam an almighty shove.

  Adam thumps on his backside in the dirt, teeth snapping together. Jarn holds his breath, waiting for the all-in brawl that is bound to erupt any second. But all Adam does is paste that stupid grin back on his face, get to his feet and say, ‘No worries. Whatever you want, mate. All you gotta do is ask.’

  Hari watches Adam the way you’d watch a mad dog. ‘Yeah? Well, go sit over there.’ He points to a spot a safe distance away.

  Without a word of complaint, Adam does as he’s told.

  ‘Whoa, that was weird. Do you reckon that thing scrambled his brainwaves or what?’ Hari says.

  Jarn picks up the cube and examines it.

  ‘Hey, don’t point it at me!’ Hari dives out of the line of fire.

  ‘Adam hated your guts then he got hit by some sort of laser beam and all of a sudden he loves you,’ Jarn says.

  Hari’s eyes widen. ‘Geez, man, you’ve gone and found an alien love machine!’

  Jarn looks at it. ‘Nah.’ Then at Hari. ‘You think?’

  ‘Must be. Hey, Leni will get a fortune for it on eBay, which means we’re gonna be rich!’ Hari glances at Adam standing under one of the scorched trees, humming to himself. ‘Stop staring at me, you freak!’

  ‘Forget about eBay,’Jarn says. He can barely con tain his excitement. ‘If this is an alien love machine, do you have any idea what it could mean? Imagine if everyone loved everyone. There’d be no more wars. No more suffering. Only peace. Forever. This metal block could change the world. We’d be famous for finding it. We’d probably even get a Peace Prize.’ Hari frowns. ‘Yeah, but if there’s no wars, who’s gonna make those games you love so much?’

  ‘Hey, guys, do you think I can have another hug?’ Adam calls.

  ‘NO!’ Hari yells. He turns back to Jarn. ‘Do you really want a world full of people acting like him 24/7?’

  ‘But if everyone’s the same then it wouldn’t bother

  ...’Then something occurs toJarn. Who would have control of the cube? And could they be trusted not to use it for their own gain? One country might use it on every other country then make the others do whatever they wanted. Jarn knew enough of human nature, not to mention history, to know that this was a definite possibility. One government alone could control every resource on the planet; make people into slaves - anything.

  ‘Argh!’

  Adam sneaks up behind Hari and locks him in a bear hug.

  Jarn looks at his friends wrestling in the dirt. He strokes the ice-smooth cube. The alien love machine could be the most powerful and terrible weapon the world has ever seen. But it could also solve his biggest problem by making Hari and Adam friends.

  The cube grows warm in Jarn’s hand and then a beam of light shoots across the clearing. It hits Hari in the chest. A slow grin spreads across his face. He looks at Adam and spreads his arms wide. ‘C’mere, maaate!’

  Jarn leaves Hari and Adam to trade hugs and compliments. He crouc
hes in the ashy crater and digs a hole. When it’s more than deep enough, he drops in the alien love machine.

  The world may never be ready for that much love.

  This afternoon when I got off the school bus I had a strange feeling that I was not alone.

  I turned my head quickly, but no one was there. In fact the nearest person to me was a little old lady pulling her shopping jeep behind her, and she was on the other side of the street.

  It must’ve been too much stress. The teachers have been giving us loads of homework and I’ve been struggling to get it all done in time. Usually school’s easy for me and I’m always near the top of the class. But recently I’ve been unable to cope or concentrate, as if I’m operating in a thick fog.

  It isn’t just schoolwork. It’s BenJardini.

  Lately, he’s turned really nasty because I won’t go out with him. Girls are falling all over themselves to get with him, but because I’m not interested it’s made him ridiculously over-the-top determined. Apparently I’m the first girl who’s rejected him and he doesn’t like it.

  Right now I don’t want a boyfriend to complicate my life. My best friend Evie’s just been dumped by Silas, who just happens to be Ben’s best mate, and she’s a mess, crying and texting, totally out of control, making an idiot of herself. And rumour has it that Ben told Silas to dump Evie as payback, so now she’s not talking to me. It’s all one big mess. Hell would freeze over before I’d go out with BenJardini and the whole school knows it.

  Suddenly I felt the softest breath on my neck.

  I swung around. No one.Just a little breeze, a puff of wind from the sea.

  Then I heard a sigh. This was scary. I started to walk faster.

  ‘You can’t escape from me, Amelia,’ said a reedy vmce m my ear.

  I stopped. ‘I know this is some kind of a trick. Ben

  Jardini, I’ll bet it’s you. Where’s the hidden gadgetry? In my bag?’

  ‘Amelia.’

  The voice sounded sad.

  ‘Go away, Ben. I don’t know how you’re doing this, but you’re being a real pain.’

  ‘Why are you so cruel and heartless?’

  ‘Me? Cruel and heartless? I don’t think so. It would be cruel if I led you on, let you think I liked you then dumped you, like Silas dumping Evie. That’s cruel.’ A man carrying a toolbox and dressed in overalls was walking towards me. He must’ve thought I was a raving lunatic, talking to myself.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked as he drew closer.

  ‘Yes. I’m just rehearsing for my school play.’

  ‘Good answer, Amelia,’ breathed the reedy voice in my ear. ‘I’ve always admired your intelligence and wit. I trusted you. And you broke my heart.’

  ‘Look,’ I said, stopping short. ‘I don’t know how you’re doing this, but it’s not funny, Ben. Just go away!’

  ‘I’m not Ben.’

  ‘If you’re not Ben, then who are you?’

  ‘You know who I am, Amelia.’

  I paused by Judy Bromley’s gate. I babysat for her sometimes and knew she was inside because her car was in the driveway.

  ‘If you don’t stop pestering me, I’ll go in here and askJudy to call the police.’

  ‘Pestering? You don’t know the meaning of the word.’

  Suddenly I felt a sharp stinging sensation on my cheek. It hurt, as if someone had slapped me hard. Was it a stone from a slingshot? I jumped away, really scared.

  ‘Don’t do that.’

  ‘You ruined my life.’ The voice sounded bitter and callous.

  I felt a breath on my cheek. To my horror, dry, cold lips kissed the spot that was still smarting.

  Somewhere in the deep recesses of my memory there was a faint stirring as if my subconscious was struggling to remember an event in my past. No, not my past, it seemed like someone else’s, many, many years ago, mistily just beyond my reach.

  My legs had gone wobbly so I sat down onJudy’s brick fence.

  ‘Honestly, I don’t know who you are. I thought you were Ben from school giving me payback, but now I’m not so sure. If it’s a joke to scare me, then you’ve won, so go away.’

  ‘I’m not trying to scare you, Amelia. I love you. Trusted you. And you left me high and dry at the altar and ran off with the coachman.’

  This time the blow to my cheek almost knocked me to the ground.

  ‘Oh. My dreadful temper. But then if you ruin someone’s life, if you rip their heart out and toss it aside, you should see how that feels, too. You should be punished.’

  By now I was really scared. With a lurch I heaved myself off the fence and ran up Judy’s driveway as if all the hounds of hell were after me. I pounded on her door.

  She opened it with Harriet on one hip andJeremy clinging to her legs.

  ‘There’s a man,’ I choked. ‘He scared me.’

  Judy gave Harriet to me to hold, peeledJeremy off her legs and marched out into the street, looking up and down.

  ‘I can’t see anyone. What did he look like, Amelia? Do you want me to call the police?’

  I realised that I couldn’t describe my attacker and that if I couldn’t see him maybe no one else could either.

  ‘No, it’s all right. He just seemed a bit weird. I probably overreacted. I’ll be fine now, I’m nearly home.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  So Judy and I walked to my front door.

  ‘Phone if you need me,’ she said as I inserted the key into the deadlock.

  ‘It’s okay, Dad will be home soon.’ I tried to sound more confident than Iactually felt. ‘He’s on early shift and finishes at four-thirty.’

  I could hear the wail of an ambulance as I quickly went in, locked the door and put the chain on. Once in my bedroom I looked in the mirror. My left cheek was slightly redder than my right, but not too notice able. Gingerly I touched my sore head where his fist had connected. I felt angry. Very angry. My parents had never slapped me. How dare some weirdo stranger do this? Wait a minute, what if he’d some how followed me inside?

  I went to the kitchen and scrabbled in the second drawer for a sharp knife for protection.

  ‘Show yourself, you coward,’ I yelled, brandishing the knife.

  Nothing.

  I heard the key rattling in the lock. Him! I crept up the passage.

  ‘Amelia. Are you in there? You’ve got the chain on.’

  ‘Dad!’

  I dropped the knife, opened the door and hurled myself into his arms. To my horror I started crying and couldn’t stop. Eventually I calmed down enough to tell him what had happened.

  ‘You felt a sting on your cheek then someone hit you hard on the side of the head? Yet no one was there? It doesn’t make any sense.’ Dad looked sceptical. ‘It’s windy outside. You might’ve got hit with some flying debris.’

  ‘But what about the voice?’

  ‘Have you looked in your bag? Perhaps someone’s playing a prank on you and put one of those mini tape-recorders in there to frighten you.’

  Together we upended my bag on the bed. Just the usual jumble of books and my lunch box. No hidden paraphernalia.

  Next thing Mum was home and of course she had to hear the whole story.

  Dad looked at Mum. ‘Maybe she needs to see a doctor. She’s been overwrought lately, not concen trating. Maybe ...’ he let his voice trail away.

  ‘You mean I need a shrink?’ I yelled. ‘You think

  I’m a nut-bag, gone schizo, imagining voices in my head? Well, I haven’t. What about this red mark? Do you think I slapped myself? This really happened. Trust me.’

  Mum was frowning. ‘This voice said you’d run off with the coachman?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your great-great-grandmother jilted her
fiance on her wedding day and ran off with the coachman,’ she said slowly.

  Dad just stared at her.

  I went cold. ‘What was her name?’ I said shakily.

  ‘Amelia.’

  Mum found an old album. The photos were faded, brown-and-white sepia. My own face stared back at me.

  ‘Amelia’s fiance,’ Mum pointed, ‘Lewis Harper.’ She turned the pages. ‘And there’s the coachman, your great-great-grandfather.’

  It made no sense. That night Mum slept in the spare bed in my room. I tossed and turned, fright ened to close my eyes, but there was no soft breath on my neck, no sharp slap on my cheek.

  The next day while we were having breakfast, I heard the news on the radio. At around 4 pm the previous day, Ben Jardini had been knocked down by a hit-and-run driver and died later in hospital. I felt sad. I’d never liked him; in fact I thought he was totally gross as a human being, but I didn’t want him to die a horrible death.

  Strangely, though, I knew there was a connection between his death and what had happened to me.

  Somehow Ben’s spirit had become enmeshed with Lewis Harper’s. I believe that in their mutual rejection by Amelia from the past and Amelia from the present, Lewis had briefly gained energy to confront me, who in his mind was the old Amelia.

  Sadly, Benjardini is gone.

  Not so sadly, the revengeful Lewis Harper is gone, too.

  Forever.

  I hope.

  Alot of people think going for a run is pretty boring, but they’re wrong. It’s only boring if you run at the wrong speed.

  I started running at school. I had dreams of being a champion runner and winning lots of medals. Trouble was, even if I trained really hard, I only got a litde bit faster. I was never fast enough to win medals.

  But at least it got me out of the house, so I didn’t have to listen to the rest of the family arguing, or play loud music to drown out the sound of shouting. Most of the arguments happened at night, so that’s when I did a lot of my running.

  Pretty soon I couldn’t get along without going for a run every night. It was like an addiction, but one that made you better instead of trashing your body and twisting your mind. I went out in all weather, cold, wet, hot and windy. I preferred bad weather, because it kept other people off the streets.