BEYOND THE BLOG

PICTURES OF LIFE - Chapters 5-6

Posted by anthonynorth on December 6, 2007

See Fiction Page for more of this novel.

delta-couple.jpgCHAPTER FIVE

He could have been just another passer-by. And as every passer-by stops at the hint of tragedy, so did he. After all, a burnt down house suggests tragedy. But this was no ordinary passer-by. This was not Mr Average, with an above average curiosity in the ghoulish.
At fifty years of age, Detective Inspector Summers had reached the ceiling of his career. Blatantly refusing to take on board subtleties such as political correctness and pro-active policing, he had placed a cap on further promotion with his outspoken views. ‘It’s a fad, sir,’ he had said to such modern niceties, ‘and when it’s over we can get back to some proper policing.’
And so it was that DI Summers rarely did ‘proper policing’ these days. Rather, he was stuck in the backwater, where his only job was to catch villains and keep the streets safe.
The fire officer had departed from the scene nearly an hour ago. And once the police were aware of the situation, action simply had to be taken. For whilst there was no definite evidence of arson, two factors suggested foul play somewhere along the line. Factor one was the undeniably true fact that Jack Thomas was in the house when it caught fire. As for Factor Two, there was no evidence of a body in the house, or in the immediate vicinity. And a missing body was enough to send DI Summers to the scene.

It was inevitable that Bobby Crawford would eventually make it to school. It was part of the scheme of things, and Bobby was well aware of how things worked. He had had much tragedy in his short life, but through it all, he had maintained the view that you can bend the rules, but not break them. And even though the adversities of life still went on, he would raise the frame of mind to be good and succeed. And the adversities, at present, were serious indeed.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like school. Indeed, Bobby Crawford had the ability to be a bit of a swot. But school held certain factors that were determined to make his transition from boy to man a precarious journey indeed. True, he spent much of his time doing everything in his power to avoid the main adversities of his life. But even his ducking and diving could not always guarantee success. And he had a premonition, as his first lesson came to an end, that adversity was about to smack him in the face.
As usual, he was the last to leave the classroom. Somehow, he just couldn’t organize himself as quickly as the other kids. And as a predator always looks out for the stragglers in the flock, so it was that Bobby Crawford was the straggler. And it was as he raced along the corridor, determined to catch up with his class, that adversity came once more.
Although it is unlikely, as they tripped him up, that Moz and Jimmy had the slightest idea of what adversity meant.

DI Summers had ordered the taxi earlier; and he had been adamant as to who he wanted to drive it. After all, he was a great believer in interviewing people in their natural environment. In that way, he could read the person as well as the answers.
‘Where to?’ asked Dale Crawford as his fare got in.
DI Summers looked at the man’s eyes framed in the rear view mirror. ‘Just round and round,’ he said. ‘But don’t get me too dizzy.’
Dale smirked. ‘You serious?’
Summers flashed his ID. ‘Did you know Jack Thomas?’ he asked.
‘Not really,’ said Dale as he began to drive. ‘We spoke in the street. I’d done the odd favour for him. But just neighbourliness, if you know what I mean.’
‘And where were you when the fire started?’
‘At home.’
‘Can anyone vouch for that?’
‘My son.’
‘How old?’
‘Ten.’
‘Rather young to be awake at that time of night.’
‘He had a nightmare.’
‘Convenient.’
Dale didn’t like this man. ‘I wouldn’t use the word, “convenient.”’ He said. ‘It’s more terrifying than that.’
DI Summers sighed. ‘Sorry. Was there anyone else there?’
Dale thought a moment. He didn’t like complications. ‘No,’ he said.
‘Okay,’ said Summers, ‘you can stop the car.’
Dale stopped the car. ‘Why so much interest in a simple fire?’ he said.
‘Because it wasn’t a simple fire,’ said Summers. ‘We didn’t find a body.’ Then he added: ‘And why are you lying about no one else being with you?’
‘I’m not.’
‘I’ve been in this job a long time. I know when someone’s lying.’
Dale thought a moment. Decided to come clean. Told him about Rachel. But other things were on his mind now. The talk of bodies – it had brought back memories; of seeing his wife’s body, after the … accident.
A tear came to his eye as DI Summers exited the taxi. She was too young to be run over like that. And then there was the lack of completion. With a hit and run, the pain never seems to end. For the questions can never stop …

It wasn’t the first time that Bobby Crawford had kissed the floor. He had been tripped up like this many times before. And he usually knew what would happen then.
He looked up – stared into the eyes of Moz and Jimmy. And it was always with defiance. It wasn’t that Bobby Crawford wasn’t frightened by these situations. It was more that he was determined not to show it. Which was, of course, the worst of all possible worlds. Showing defiance in spirit but not in body was a sure recipe for the bullying to go on. Far better to forget spirit and just bash the hell out of them. But Bobby Crawford was neither big enough, nor clever enough, to realize this.
‘You need to watch where you going,’ said Moz as he smirked.
He was the dominant one of the two. Jimmy just seemed a sheep who did as he was told so as not to be bullied by Moz himself. But in being the disciple, it was inevitable that he would be the first to put the boot in. After all, he had to impress, didn’t he? And as the boot went in, followed by another from Moz, Bobby Crawford buried his face in the floor, yet still refused to cry.

Bullies do, of course, come in many forms. Wayne and Duane Hollis were also bullies. And as with Moz, they both did their bullying to assuage the Old Man’s anger. In their younger days, the anger came with blows, but in old age it came with words. Old Man Hollis dominated his two sons totally.
They stood in the street, aware of what they had to do. Wayne recalled his father’s words of not long ago: ‘I want that shop! Do you hear me? Now you go and see Thadias Grimes and convince him to co-operate.’ And if their father didn’t get his way – didn’t get the land to build the leisure centre he dreamed of – their life simply wouldn’t be worth living.
They spied Thadias Grimes in the shop. He had a customer, so they waited. Inside, Thadias was saying: ‘Oh yes, that’s who you want.’
DI Summers took another bite of the pie. ‘This is delicious,’ he said.
Thadias’s grim expression turned into a macabre smile. ‘My pies are the best in the area,’ he said, ‘and don’t let anyone tell you different.’
Summers didn’t need to study his face to tell he was telling the truth. He continued: ‘So why do you think they want the land?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea. But they’ll get hold of it any way they can.’
As DI Summers left the premises, Wayne and Duane Hollis walked in. He walked twenty yards down the street and walked twenty yards back. Wayne and Duane released Thadias’s throat as he entered the shop once more.
‘I think I’ll have another of those pies for tonight,’ he said.
Thadias rushed behind the counter. Took another pie and wrapped it.
Bullies come in many forms, but DI Summers recognized them all. As he turned to leave the shop, he stopped inches from Wayne Hollis’s face and stared.
It didn’t go on for long. And as the Hollis brothers rushed out of the shop, he smiled grimly to himself.

CHAPTER SIX

In a perfect world, Julia James was well aware that she would have a perfect husband. But as the world was far from perfect, neither, she decided, was she. And as she downed another slug from the bottle, her world was becoming more imperfect as the day wore on.
Dale Crawford was unaware of Julia’s state as he pulled up in the late afternoon, his driving stint done for that day. Indeed, for some reason he didn’t much feel like work at all. But then again, it had been both a hectic and troubling time. House fires, missing bodies, interviews by police, a son’s nightmares, and memories of your own worst nightmare would inevitably take their toll. But regardless of his own troubles, when he heard a crash and scream issue from the James household, he found himself duty bound to investigate.
A swift knock on the door elicited a weak cry of ‘help,’ and taking that as an invite, he opened the door and rushed in.

At the other end of the street, Bobby Crawford has also opened a door, but he entered gingerly.
Thadias Grimes seemed to stop in his tracks as he observed the Crawford boy enter. Seemingly reassured by the counter between them, he said: ‘What do you want?’
Bobby offered his squinty smile. He had no understanding of the inferiority complex, where a person uses his imperfections as weapons to get what he wanted. But he was well aware of its effect. He had melted the strongest spirits with that smile. But he was equally aware that, with Mr Grimes, it did not work. Maybe that was why he pestered him so much. After all, the bullied boy must return the bullying somewhere.
‘Can I have one of your pies, Mr Grimes,’ he said.
Thadias picked a pie and bagged it. Held it out. Stopped. ‘You do have the money to pay for it?’ he inquired.
Bobby Crawford sighed. Pushed his hand into his pocket. Took out the right money. As he took the bag, he said: ‘And who’s in the pie today, Mr Grimes?’
Thadias Grimes chased him out of the shop. Bobby Crawford skipped up the street telling everyone he saw that Thadias Grimes killed people and put them in his pies.

Dale Crawford would have heard his son’s mischief if he had not been too busy laughing.
Julia James lay upside down, her feet up the stairs and her head and shoulders firmly planted on the floor of the hall. In a slurred voice, she said: ‘It isn’t funny.’ When Dale refused to stop laughing, she added: ‘Will you stop it.’ But seeing the funny side herself, she found it impossible not to burst out laughing too.
When the mirth subsided, Dale found himself knelt on the floor beside her. Slowly, he held her by the shoulders and seconds later they both found themselves sat on the bottom step.
Dale assumed a more serious attitude. He looked into her eyes. ‘Why do you do it?’ he said.
Julia suddenly felt uncomfortable. She was aware that Dale would smell the booze on her breath. ‘Why shouldn’t I,’ was her childish reply. Or was it a defence mechanism?
Dale tutted to himself. Said: ‘But it’s such a waste.’
‘You don’t live my life,’ she replied.
‘And you don’t need to, either,’ he countered.
Julia seemed to stare into space at those words. Eventually, she said: ‘So I have an alternative?’
‘We all have alternatives. None of us have to put up with the lives we have.’
‘It’s alright for you to say that. You’re confidant. You know what you want.’
‘And you’re different?’
‘Of course I am.’ She thought, momentarily, of Vernie. ‘I’ve had it bashed out of me.’ And at the sound of her ridiculous words, she burst into laughter once more.
A silence eventually descended. A seriousness came to her face. She looked him in the eye. Touched his cheek with her hand. ‘If only Vernie could be like you.’

Her words were still with him two hours later. He had taken off his casual clothes and dressed in a suit. Downstairs, the babysitter had arrived. As usual, Bobby had complained. ‘I’m growing up now, dad. I don’t need a babysitter.’
Dale had smiled. ‘Okay,’ he said.
‘So you’ll get rid of her?’
‘No. I’ll change her job.’
‘To what?’
‘To a boy sitter.’
Bobby had stormed up to his room.
Problems, problems, problems. Dale didn’t really feel like going out this night. Why had he decided to take Rachel for a meal? He had Bobby and his nightmares. And he was increasingly worried by Julia and hers. But what had it got to do with him?

‘You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself,’ said Rachel Hollis, later, at the restaurant.
Dale had only played with his food. Talk had been light. He looked at her. God, she was beautiful, he thought. Her make-up was just right. Her little black dress revealed that stunning cleavage. Surely this girl had everything he could ever want. At least, everything he could want once his wife was dead. After all, he was never going to fall in love again, was he? It would hurt too much.
His attention was taken then by another table. He had never seen the woman before, but the man seemed familiar. He could only see his back, but when he spoke it was obvious it was Vernie.
Rachel followed his line of sight. ‘Typical,’ she said, ‘he’s at it again.’
Dale turned back to her. ‘Is that what it comes down to, is it? A moment’s light condemnation? And what about poor Julia?’
Rachel’s mind raced. Something was beginning to dawn. ‘Why the sudden interest in Julia James?’ she asked.
A guilty look issued from Dale’s face. Rachel gasped. ‘Good God, you fancy her, don’t you?’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ he snapped.
‘You do.’

Vernie James was oblivious to Dale and Rachel watching him. He had an available girl at his table and an expensive suit on his back. Nothing more mattered to him, except, perhaps, a slight pain in the wrist where it had hurt hitting Julia. The bitch, he thought, I’ll teach her to hurt me.
Dale observed his attitude, and he couldn’t help but be annoyed by it. Which in turn annoyed Rachel. ‘Er, excuse me,’ she said. ‘Who are you dating tonight? Me or the spirit of Julia James?’
Dale refocused his attention. ‘Sorry. What were you saying?’
A fuse was lit in Rachel’s insides. Several minutes passed. Vernie laughed. Dale snapped. ‘I can’t stand this.’
He rose from the table. Walked over to Vernie. Said: ‘How’s Julia tonight?’
‘What?’
‘You know, your wife.’
A dawning. A slap around the face. His date stormed out.
Vernie said: ‘I suppose you think that was funny.’
Dale stood erect. ‘Yeah. Want to make something of it?’
Vernie decided he didn’t. He sat down. Dale turned round. But Rachel did. It was a night for women slapping their men. As Dale watched Rachel storm out, he rubbed his cheek and wished Julia had the guts to do the same.

Bobby Crawford was disturbed by the slamming of the door as his father returned home, although it wasn’t enough to bring him totally out of his dream – at least, not straight away. He lay in bed silently, but in his head a whole weird world existed. He had gotten to the bottom of the hole, and at the bottom was a burned out house. He recognized it as Jack’s, and the man himself was stood there, surveying the wreckage of his life.
Bobby wondered if he was annoyed by what had happened to him, but he saw no recognition on his face. His face just seemed to exist, and his eyes just seemed to stare, as if they could stare straight into your soul. But maybe that was normal, if Jack had become the ghost Bobby thought.
A crash existed in the dream, then. Bobby didn’t realize the outside world had interacted with his inner world. And his inner world interpreted the crash of his father shutting the door as an earthquake, and Bobby’s world shook.
In his bed, the slight body of Bobby Crawford stirred. Slowly he blinked his eyes once, and then again. And finally he opened them wide. Jack seemed to recognize the boy was now awake, but as Bobby stared into those translucent eyes, he could still see no smile.

(c) Anthony North, November 2007

See Fiction Page for more of this novel.

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