Tell the Story to Its End (18 page)

‘You know?' said Mum. There was no fight in her suddenly, no passion, no anger. I glared at her, balling my fists. I wanted her to fight. I wanted her to shout back.

‘You don't care if I know,' I said.

‘They just – we just wanted to keep you safe,' said Bekah. I snorted.

‘You don't even care whether I know or not,' I said.

‘I thought it was for the best, for you, Oli,' said Mum.

‘Right,' I said.

‘Coming here,' said Mum. ‘One last summer. One last good memory. To escape. To avoid it all. Can't you see?'

‘You
lied
,' I said. ‘To me. You lied!'

‘Oli…' said Rob, but I turned away from him, to Mum, to nothing.

‘I'm going out,' I said.

‘Maybe you should stay,' said Bekah, ‘and we can—'

‘No!'

Before anyone could move I threw open the door and stormed out.

*   *   *

My mind was hot, a swarm of buzzing, a pounding pressure. I ran down the street straight to Em's house, heard someone shout behind me, jumped the fence. There was someone in the road, calling my name. The apple trees were duller than the last time I'd seen them. In the corner of my eye the tail of a cat flickered and disappeared.

She was sitting reading in the kitchen, her back to me.

‘Em!' I hissed, tapping on the glass with my knuckle. ‘Em!'

She looked up, startled, then relaxed when she saw my face pushed against the window. She giggled, tutted, came to open the door. ‘You coming in?' she asked.

‘No, come out, come
on
,' I said, stepping back into the garden.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You OK?'

I sighed. ‘I don't know. No. No. Maybe.'

‘Wow,' she said, and went to fetch her shoes. I was alone in the trees, and the wind blew cold. I looked up, across, at the attic window. I nodded, smiled, like I was part of some big joke, and looked away again, at the grass.

‘OK, mysterio,' said Em. ‘What's up?'

‘Can we go through the flap?'

‘You would use the Portal?' she asked, gasping dramatically, clutching at her heart. ‘Are you of pure heart? Do you seek knowledge … or revenge?'

‘Em, come
on
 … I seek knowledge, OK? You want to know about my heart?'

I grabbed her hand and pushed her palm onto my chest. My heart was racing, filling my world with drums and noise. She nodded.

‘The Portal,' I said.

‘The Portal.'

We pushed through the bushes, through the leaves and branches, to the dark where the soil was still damp. The fence was green and dusty with moss, but the hinge was good, and the flap worked as perfectly as ever. ‘Not bad, right?' asked Em. ‘It'll work till the end of the world, you know.'

‘I believe you,' I said. I did.

*   *   *

We hunkered low in Takeru's garden, moving quickly, sticking to the border. Em filled her pocket with three small stones. ‘Three shots,' she said. ‘All I need.'

‘Thanks, Em. He'll be in, you think?'

She shrugged. ‘Let's find out!'

She chucked the stones with a grin, bobbing her head slightly as they pinged off the glass above. We waited.

‘Too hard,' said Em, ‘and I'd break the window. But too soft and he won't hear. Got to be careful.'

‘Why don't we just ring the doorbell?'

She sighed and touched her elbow to my ribs. ‘Isn't this more fun? 'Mazing!'

The sound of a door being opened made us freeze, and we turned to look up the path towards the front of the house.

‘You think you're being subtle,' said a voice, ‘but seriously, come on…'

Em grinned wider. ‘Tak!' she yelled as he came round the corner. He smiled at me, stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky.

‘Wow! I
totally
didn't see you coming up the garden.'

‘Shut up,' said Em.

‘I'm glad you're home,' I said.

He looked at Em, confused, and chuckled. ‘Who knew I'd made such an impression. Y'all right, Oli?'

I sighed, kicking at the ground with my heel. ‘I don't know,' I said.

‘You're acting kind of weird. Even by your standards.'

I looked into their faces, saw their eyes, honest and friendly, felt their gaze on me, and the sun high above, shining and solid.

‘My dad,' I said, and the way Em shuffled her feet told me enough. She knew. Takeru didn't say anything. I walked forward, the gravel on the path crunching under my feet.

‘It's a massive mess,' I said. I didn't know what I wanted to say. I just wanted to talk. ‘I think we're supposed to be hiding, kind of. Because of Dad. I don't know what you know, but it's bad. Some journalists came round, they've found out where we are.'

‘The men in the car,' said Em, then stopped. We all looked at the ground.

‘I might have to head away again. I don't know. It's all kind of weird.'

‘My … my dad has said a bit,' said Em, in such a small voice it surprised me. ‘I think he's angry at the government. He said your dad's been found out.'

Her voice died away again. In the trees, the leaves whispered and giggled as the wind raced through. Deep in my mind, I saw the darkness of Eren's eyes.

‘What do the journalists want?' asked Takeru.

‘I don't know.'

‘You, probably,' said Em, nodding towards me. ‘Lies. Words. Gossip and lies and songs.'

‘Don't think they'll want songs, Em,' said Takeru. She stuck her tongue out at him.

‘There once was a man,' she said, ‘who collected words. He put them in a special glass jar he had, whenever he found one he liked very much.'

‘You what?' said Takeru.

‘A story,' I said, hushing him. ‘Keep going.'

‘Well,' she smiled, raising her eyebrows, ‘he had a glass jar. And, if you were talking to him and you used a new, exciting word that he liked, he would scoop it up, put it in his jar, and carry it off. He was a collector, I guess. Like an oologist.'

‘A what?'

‘Collects eggs.'

‘Like a campanologist,' said Takeru.

‘Huh?'

‘Collects
bells
,' he said, knowingly.

‘Stop being smart,' said Em. ‘This man collected words, all the new and bright words he heard. So he was a … a lexologist. The problem, though, was that if he took a new word from you, he locked it up so tight that no one else could use the word ever again – not even you, who'd shown it to him in the first place. He was obsessed – he wanted them all. At night his bedroom shone like the Milky Way, the jars on his shelves dancing and spinning with trapped, silvery, exotic, beautiful, fancy words. People complained to him, of course, but they couldn't stop him. No one knew how his jars worked, see, and there aren't any laws
against
bottling up words – no one owns them, no one sells them. But people knew. He took the word “constellation” and trapped it in a jam jar. Astronomers didn't know what to do! He heard the word “peahen” and gobbled that one up too, and then all the visitors to the parks and zoos didn't know what to say when they saw one. He took “gobbled” too, actually. All by magic.'

She paused, looking at us in the half-light of the path. Takeru waited for her to keep going, a slight smile on his face. The wind ruffled my hair and I swear I felt Eren's claws on my cheeks. I pushed the thought away, listened to Em, watched her spin the web.

She's good
, Eren said, a whisper in my ear.
You're better
.

‘Well, one day a man came to his door,' said Em. ‘He was young enough, but his clothes were old, and he had a beard that went well past his chin. The man greeted him with a great big smile and a bow. “I have an offer for you,” he said.

‘“And what might that be?” asked the word-hoarder. He was suspicious enough of visitors, who might want to steal his words back, but he could never pass up the chance to talk to someone new, and someone so obviously from far away. Imagine what words he might have …

‘“I know of your collection, and I admire your work,” said the man. “But I wonder, does it not sadden you not to possess the Greatest Word?”

‘“The Greatest Word?” asked the man. He shook his head and chuckled. “I've never heard of such a thing. What rubbish! I've no time for this…”

‘“Then watch this,” said the stranger, and he opened his mouth to speak—'

‘Oliver Munroe?'

We all turned, surprised, towards the road. A man was looking down the side of the house, peering through the shadows. ‘You guys know an Oliver Munroe? Just wondered if I could grab a quick word?'

‘You leave him alone!' shouted Em, so loudly that Takeru jumped.

The man stepped backwards, looking around the street. ‘All right, sorry kids,' he said, turning away. ‘Made a mistake, that's all. Have a good day, now. Just a mistake.'

‘Come on,' said Em. ‘Back through the gardens.'

Takeru nodded and pushed me back down the path, into his garden and down the lawn. ‘My parents aren't actually in right now,' he said. He shot me a look. ‘No need for all the sneaking. Just make sure those guys don't see.'

I looked back, watching the road as Em and Tak disappeared into the bushes.

 

NINETEEN

‘When you tell a story, you expose your weakest heart,' Eren explains. I don't know if he's moving his lips. Maybe his voice is in my head.

‘You lower those defences. All writers do, all stories mean that. Letting something out. To strike a chord with others. You've been foolish,' he says. ‘Good, but foolish. You must realise soon enough, eh, boy.'

‘Don't…' I start to say, but he waves a hand through the air. He creaks and jerks as he moves towards me. Does he look that much like a bat? More like a spider, I realise. He's like a spider.

‘O
LI, DON'T—'

‘No!' I shouted, marching away. I was angry now, angrier than ever. What did they know?

‘Come on, Oli. Let's go to my house,' said Em, pushing past Takeru to catch me.

‘Yeah, because your dad'd be
so
pleased to see me,' I said. That shut her up.

‘Oh, Oli…'

‘Yeah, we all know what he thinks about my dad. Not my biggest fan, is he?'

‘Come on, you two,' said Takeru. ‘Forget them all. This is
us
, it's going to be OK.'

I looked at him, saw his confusion. Why didn't either of them see the real danger?

‘We don't know what will happen,' I said, quietly. I stared down at my feet, trying to imagine the worst, trying to pray for the best. Somewhere nearby a crow cawed, sharp and empty, a harsh, dying sound.

‘Oli,'
said a voice, a gust of wind. I looked around.

‘You don't have to be angry at
us
,' Takeru was saying. I ignored him, my eyes searching slowly up and down the road. I knew what I'd heard.

‘Oli,'
said the voice again, a rustle of dry leaves.

‘Come and rest,'
he said.
‘Away from the risk, away from the anger. Come and have some fun, boy.'

The voice was like the sound of thunder, or rain. It was the sound of tyres squealing on the road.

‘Oh,
no
,' said Em, pointing at an approaching car. ‘Shall we call the police?'

‘Run, Oli. Run!
' said Eren, his voice the rushing of the wind.

I couldn't say no to everything he was.

I couldn't say no to what he could do.

I ran.

‘Oli, wait…!' shouted Takeru, but I was already off, my breath fast, my arms pumping. I ran as fast as I ever had, as fast as I could and then faster, ignoring the roads and pavements, running until my side hurt. I left the street behind, left the cars behind, and when I stopped, finally, I knew that no one had followed me. I fell to the ground, panting hard, clutching my side and hissing through my teeth. A cat, white and orange, crept near.

‘All right for you,' I said, shooing it away. The sun was bright now, thin clouds rolling away. The whole sky stretched above me. I knew with no doubt, the way I knew pain was bad and food was good, that I had to make a choice. The wind flicked the leaves in the trees. Eren waited. Despite the light, the moon was faint in the sky, a whisper, a chalk-white shadow of the night. Eren was waiting. He was waiting for me. I heard a cat howl, a dog bark, a bee nearby buzz and fuss. I had to choose something.

‘Come on, lad,'
he said, with no real voice at all. Adults always
lied
, always hid things from me …

There was a man, watching me, a small, bouncing dog on a leash at his side. I stood up, unclenching my fists.