Gap Year in Ghost Town

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Gap Year in Ghost Town Page 22

by Michael Pryor


  ‘Miffed because you cocked things up? I have news for you, chum. If your heart isn’t in it, maybe you should throw in the towel.’

  ‘I was useless. Worse than useless. And I let a civilian get involved. He could have been killed because of me!’

  She growled. ‘Self-pitying and half-hearted. I thought you were better than that.’

  I snapped my head around. ‘It’s easy for you, though, isn’t it? Sword and superpowers? Not having to worry about whether you’re doing the right thing or not because the Company tells you? Plenty of cash to soothe any conscience you might have?’

  ‘Give up now, Anton, and save us all the trouble of picking up after you.’

  We drove in a long, strained silence after that. I kept my mouth shut because who knew what I might say if I got started again?

  It was getting close to 6 a.m. when we parked out the back of the shop. Rani spoke to the windscreen, not me. ‘The only reason I’m not leaving right now is that Leon deserves a report about tonight’s events.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’

  I opened the door and turned on the lights and then we busied ourselves doing important things in completely different parts of the shop.

  When Dad rolled up at about eight o’clock, Rani and I reported. It took about ten seconds of stiff and awkward recounting before Dad put down his trusty fountain pen. ‘Enough. What is wrong here?’

  I didn’t answer. I looked at Rani and she didn’t answer either. She looked at me. Okay, so we were being petty.

  ‘I’m quitting,’ I said.

  ‘Quitting. I see. And you don’t like this, Rani?’

  ‘It’s up to him.’

  ‘If it’s up to him, why are you angry about it?’

  This time, Rani harpooned me with a look. ‘Because giving up is the easy way out.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ I had my arms folded. How had that happened? ‘Anyway, you told me I should give up.’

  ‘I said it because you’d lost the plot and needed a kick up the arse.’

  ‘I don’t need you to point out that I messed up. I can do that for myself.’

  Dad cut in. ‘Things didn’t go well, then? Can you tell me about it while leaving out the finger pointing?’

  Rani nodded sharply, and launched into a cold, objective rundown of what had happened. She paused at times for my input. I delivered it in an equally clinical way, while, all the time, wanting to storm out and slam the door behind me.

  ‘More Rogues,’ Dad said when we finished. He shook his head. ‘Very bad, this.’

  ‘Awful,’ I said. ‘Now, about my quitting—’

  Dad patted this down. ‘We’ll get to that. First, though, I’d like to know more. This encounter could go some way to explaining Stacey Evans.’

  ‘How, Leon?’ Rani asked.

  ‘The tragedy she suffered.’ He shook his head. ‘Her grief has consumed her. It has changed her so much that she has been able to assume great power quickly.’

  Grief and loss. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Stacey Evans and, being in the gloomy frame of mind I was, this led me to thinking about Mum and her loss and how grief changes people.

  Oh. Moment of Understanding here. I’d felt for Stacey Evans; her situation had affected me so much because she was like Mum. Grief had changed both of them and torn their lives apart.

  Wow.

  ‘And that’s not the end of it,’ Dad was saying. ‘What you are reporting might help explain why so much ghost activity has been going on in Melbourne lately.’

  That snapped me out of my brooding. ‘You think she’s responsible? How?’

  ‘Bear with me here. Firstly, if anything in this area can be called unnatural, this blending of human and Rogue ghost can be,’ Dad said. ‘It’s forced, and cannot endure for long.’

  ‘So she’s working to a deadline as well,’ I murmured.

  ‘Exactly, but more than that, this unnatural union is under strain, under tension.’

  ‘Like two magnetic poles being pushed together?’ Rani suggested.

  ‘Not a bad analogy.’ Dad was impressed. ‘In this case, the tension could be causing ripples that are disturbing dormant ghosts, making them manifest whether they like it or not.’

  ‘Reluctant ghosts,’ I said. ‘That’s all we need.’

  ‘Huh.’ Dad rubbed his beard, then spread his hands. ‘This is barely charted territory we’re in.’

  ‘It makes me wonder if this is the real reason that Commander Gatehouse is so interested in Melbourne,’ Rani said.

  ‘She is?’ Dad said.

  Rani outlined the change of Gatehouse’s schedule.

  Dad grimaced. ‘Typical of the Company of the Righteous soldiers. If they knew about this, or even suspected it, they wouldn’t tell anyone about it. They’d declare it Company business and handle it themselves.’

  Dad crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling for a while. He apparently found the answer he was looking for as he stood up. ‘Do you think you could find Stacey Evans again, Anton?’

  ‘I don’t see how.’

  ‘Rani?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be easy.’

  Dad nodded once, sharply, then left the room.

  ‘I thought you were quitting,’ Rani said.

  ‘I am. He just hasn’t let me get a word in.’

  ‘Really? You looked as if you’d become intensely interested in what’s happening.’

  ‘I was just being polite.’

  ‘Oh. And here I was, thinking that you were accidentally showing your true, deep attraction to the complexities of ghosts and ghost hunting.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘Admit it. You love the thrill of it as much as I do.’

  ‘Thrill?’

  ‘The hunt, the chase, the danger. It gets your blood racing, doesn’t it?’

  I was groping for a snappy comeback – something about not mistaking terror for excitement – when Dad walked back in, which wasn’t unexpected. He walked in carrying a sword, however, which was.

  Rani gasped. I groaned. ‘Where’d that come from?’

  The sword was in a black leather sheath that was scuffed, worn and smelled of age. When Dad drew it, the black steel gleamed dully. He hefted it, feeling its weight. It was nearly a mate of the one that he had lent Rani, but it was more battered, with a sizeable nick near the hilt.

  ‘It’s been here for some time.’ Dad held up the sword and turned it in his hand, watching the way the light played on the metal.

  Rani leaned forward. ‘That’s a beautiful weapon.’

  I shook my head. ‘While you’re at it, is there anything else you haven’t told me about this family? We faked the moon landing? We’re secretly in contact with the league of lizard aliens who really control the world? Please tell me we own a castle somewhere.’ I pointed at him. ‘And don’t say “It’s a need-to-know basis”, because I need to know.’

  Dad sheathed the sword and put it on the table in front of him as he sat. ‘Discovering that what you thought you knew isn’t the entire story is one of the hardest things about being a Marin.’

  ‘Apart from telling people “No, it’s Marin, not Martin”?’ It was feeble, I admit, but my heart really wasn’t in it.

  ‘The challenge is deciding what to tell one’s offspring, and when.’

  ‘That’s not hard. Just give it to me straight.’

  ‘That’s not the Marin way.’

  ‘The Marin way? What, is there a Marin Family User Manual?’

  As soon as I said it, I knew the answer, and Dad’s chilly smile came a split second later. ‘In a way,’ he said. ‘Did you think a family that has handed down its traditions and practices over hundreds of years and kept records for just as long wouldn’t write down something as important as raising children in the family business?’

  ‘Show me.’

  ‘I can’t. Not until you have children.’

  ‘I can’t wait nine months, which would assume something happen
ing mighty quickly with nothing on the horizon.’

  Rani groaned. ‘Let’s just move on, shall we?’

  ‘You’ll have to wait, Anton,’ Dad said. ‘It’s for parents only, and we’re sworn to it.’

  ‘You’re not going to show me, are you?’

  ‘And you won’t find it.’

  ‘Magic?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Uh huh. So I’m not being told stuff because it says so in a book I can’t see.’

  ‘I know it’s hard.’

  ‘Like hell you do.’

  ‘Because I went through the same thing.’

  This was one of those times I felt the Marin family business as a weight pressing on me, something that was happening more and more lately. Taking up that uni course seemed very, very attractive. Studying, learning stuff, talking about things that didn’t involve the possibility of a screaming, painful death, all seemed rosy right now.

  ‘Where did your weapons come from, Leon?’ Rani unsheathed her sword and compared it to the one on the table.

  ‘We have assembled them over the years,’ Dad said. ‘Some souvenirs, but mostly from our days when the Marins belonged to the Company of the Righteous.’

  ‘So the sword you gave me is two hundred years old?’

  ‘It is. And it’s apparently good, solid work.’

  ‘Oh, it is that,’ Rani said. ‘Perfect for the job.’

  ‘Which brings us back to wonder why you’re toting one now,’ I said to Dad. ‘Like me, you’re no sword-fighting guy.’

  ‘But unlike you, I’m not a ghost-hunting guy either,’ Dad said quietly.

  There you go. Family can make you flip from one emotional state to another just like that. In an instant, I’d somersaulted from being angry with him to sympathising with him. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ I said. ‘I know how much it gets to you.’

  ‘I thought I hid it.’

  ‘Well, yeah, let’s just say that only someone close to you would know.’

  Other things suddenly got really interesting, for both of us. I ran my finger up and down an old burn mark on the table, then picked at it with a thumbnail. Dad fiddled with his fountain pen, taking the top off and putting it back on again, testing the nib, unscrewing the barrel.

  Rani examined the sword Dad had produced.

  ‘Anyway,’ Dad said finally, that word being the equivalent of an embarrassed cough in these situations. ‘What I’m trying to say is that since I can’t see ghosts, or help move them on as you can, Anton, I can contribute in other ways.’

  ‘Go on.’ I didn’t like where this was heading.

  ‘We’re in dangerous waters,’ Dad said. ‘I can’t let you forge ahead in this way. I need to step in and do what I can to put an end to this.’

  ‘You want to turn executioner? You want to hunt down Stacey Evans and kill her?’

  ‘I can’t see any other way,’ Dad said. ‘She’ll kill again if she’s not stopped, and while she’s doing it, she’s affecting the city in ways that could be far more dangerous.’

  ‘No, Leon,’ Rani said. ‘Anton and I have this under control.’

  Dad shook his head and went on before I could object to Rani including me. ‘I don’t think so.’ He spread both hands flat on the table in front of him and stared at them. ‘Sometimes, you need to shoot your own dog.’

  ‘What?’ I squawked. I was half out of my chair. ‘Where did that come from? Is this non sequitur week or something?’

  ‘I can’t let you do it, Anton. Sometimes, a man needs to shoot his own dog.’

  ‘Aargh! Repeating it doesn’t make it any better! What are you? A character in an old western movie?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘That’s so dumb, “A man’s gotta shoot his own dog.” No he doesn’t! Why not save the dog? Get it the right treatment, an operation, whatever.’

  ‘It’s not your dog, Leon,’ Rani added gently.

  ‘No, but it’s my own son who’s involved.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And I made him get involved.’

  I put my hands on both sides of my head and squeezed. Dad carried so much guilt.

  ‘You’re not to blame, Dad,’ I said. ‘You didn’t force me into this gap year. I agreed.’

  ‘After pressure,’ he said. ‘I didn’t let up easily, did I?’

  ‘Well, no. But I wouldn’t have given in either, if I didn’t have some sort of leaning this way.’ If I wasn’t attracted to the complexities of ghosts and ghost hunting. Hadn’t I heard someone say that recently?

  He adjusted the top button of his waistcoat. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘So get that out of your system, please?’

  His face fell.

  ‘Come on, Dad, you don’t need redeeming,’ I said. ‘Not in my eyes.’

  He winced. ‘Am I that obvious?’

  ‘Again, not to anyone else. I just thought about how I’d be feeling and it was easy to guess.’ I stifled a yawn. ‘What I most need is to have you around, for support and advice. No one else can do that like you can because no one knows me like you do.’

  Dad was silent for a while. ‘A parent always wants to help, to spare their children from harm.’

  ‘I know. I appreciate it.’

  ‘And you’re eighteen and telling me this?’

  ‘It’s a sign, isn’t it?’ Rani said. ‘That your parenting has worked.’

  We both looked at her, then at each other.

  ‘I’ve turned out okay,’ I said. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘You wouldn’t be committed to ghost hunting if Leon had been deficient in his child raising.’

  Committed? Me? I was just about to throw the whole thing in!

  Wasn’t I?

  ‘It wasn’t just me,’ Dad said. ‘His mother, his aunt, his stepmother, too.’

  ‘You’re the one who’s here,’ Rani said. ‘And you, Leon, wouldn’t be putting yourself forward in your son’s place if you weren’t being consistent with the lessons you gave him.’

  Dad picked at some non-existent lint on his sleeve. ‘So, I’m being relegated to the sidelines?’

  I pulled myself together. ‘If I tell you that you’re back-up, it’s going to sound too obvious a make-up, right?’

  Dad smiled. ‘I can live with it.’ He clapped his hands together and smiled. ‘So, no more talk of quitting, then?’

  The Moment of Truth – another one. I knew that I wanted to quit, but I also wanted to continue. I knew I wasn’t real, top-grade ghost-hunting material, but I also knew that Rani was right about the thrills. Yes, ghosts – some ghosts – terrified me. But finding them, tracking them down, cornering them was an adrenaline hit, and doing the job right was satisfying on a very deep and personal level. The trouble was, the world outside ghost hunting was appealing too. Whatever choice I made, the other one was going to look mighty desirable.

  But it wasn’t just about me. Other people were part of this. Not just Dad, but Mum and Aunt Tanja and all the Marins ever since ever. And Rani, too, and Bec. And all those people out there who I was saving from the ravages of ghosts, I had to take them into consideration.

  Responsibilities. I had responsibilities.

  ‘I guess not.’ I sighed. ‘Your cunning plan of distracting me with fascinating ghost-hunting and personal stuff so that I’d be committed before I realised it worked a treat.’

  ‘You smelled a rat?’

  ‘I knew what was going on. I also know that I might not be cut out for ghost hunting, but I’m stuck with it. That won’t stop me thinking I should quit next time I’m facing a nasty customer.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be sane if didn’t,’ Dad said.

  ‘We all have second thoughts,’ Rani said. ‘We’d be stupid not to.’

  ‘Now,’ I said, moving right along before we turned into a sit-com magic moment, ‘I’ve been wondering about the cryptic question that Stacey asked us when we met her.’

  Rani nodded. ‘She wanted to know why we’d visited her holy place,’ s
he explained to Dad.

  I gave the forehead a good old smack. ‘Her holy place. The crash site. The roadside shrine.’

  ‘Of course. She knew we’d been there,’ Rani said. ‘We know that she commands ghosts. What if she set a Watcher there?’

  It made sense. The idea of anyone interfering with the place where her family died would make Stacey Evans furious – but she couldn’t keep an eye on it herself. She could set a Watcher to do the job. Or two, possibly, with one ready to find Stacey with news of activity around the site. People like Rani and me, for instance.

  ‘We’ll have to be double super extra careful, then,’ I said.

  Dad tapped the table. ‘Are you ready, Anton?’

  I weighed this up. ‘I think I am, Dad.’

  In the car, Rani didn’t turn on the engine. ‘Before we get going, I want to say I’m sorry about the things I said.’

  ‘All the things?’

  ‘Most of them.’

  ‘Me too, but I think I have a case of déjà vu with this saying-sorry business.’

  ‘But if we’re here, apologising to each other again, that means we’re able to sort things out.’

  ‘We’re adulting like champions.’

  ‘Let’s see if we can keep it up.’

  Rani drove with her usual flair. We barrelled up the highway like a perfectly on the speed limit bullet.

  CHAPTER 25

  We pulled off the highway and I surveyed the crash site, in daylight this time. The recent rain had added an extra touch of gloom to the flower arrangements, the mementos, the photographs. The morning was bright and clear, blue sky with no cloud, and the scarred tree with its tributes was sombre, depressing, devoid of joy.

  The car rocked as big trucks whooshed past on their way north while on the other side of the shrine, equally big trucks were heading for Melbourne.

  ‘Can you feel anything?’ I asked Rani as I stroked my pendant.

  She shook her head. ‘Any Watcher out there would be extremely faint in this daylight.’ She touched the side of her nose with a finger, almost as if she was trying to straighten the slight crookedness. ‘We’re putting it off again, aren’t we?’

  ‘You bet. This place gives me the willies.’

  ‘The willies. You really need to update your vocabulary.’

 

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