JUNK and other short stories Page 7

  He looked at the model house. It wasn’t damaged. He hadn’t broken it, or made a hole in it, and he hadn’t hurt his hand, either. No cuts, no blood, nothing. It was as if he’d put his hand into the bath to pick up the soap from the bottom.

  Once again, he was terrified.

  How could he have done such a thing?

  He looked around him, and at Tim. No-one seemed to have noticed, and life at the nursery school was going on quite normally.

  But life for Christian Luke was, once again, far from normal.

  He was frightened again, and worried. He had never been told that he would one day be able to do such things. There were any number of things he would be able to do when he was older, so they said – like ride a two wheeled bike, use the computer thing, have a glass of wine, go swimming on his own, drive a car – things like that. But no-one had ever mentioned this sort of thing.

  After a time, he began to wonder if, in fact, this was something he would still be able to do when he was older. He wondered, because he seemed to be losing the knack. He had always been terrified of someone discovering what he could do, so it wasn’t the sort of thing he practiced often, and never in front of people. Because he couldn’t explain it, and because he had never seen or heard of anyone else being able to do what he had done, he kept it to himself.

  But he had slowly discovered that he couldn’t just look at something and see into it. And he couldn’t just reach into something at will. He’d hurt his hand more than once trying to do that. No. What worked was when he was looking especially for something. If he concentrated hard on what he was looking for, he could see in to things, but only if what he was looking for was there. And once he’d seen it, if he kept thinking about it, he could reach in and get it. But not otherwise.

  So it was really only of any use if you’d lost something. Or if somebody else had.

  One day, when he was about six, his Dad locked the car keys in the boot. Just slammed the lid, with them inside. Christian had been there, and saw what happened. Dad was furious, especially as Mum was out, with the spare set in her handbag. The only option was to call the AA and hope they would be able to get them out.

  Christian did, though, while Dad was indoors on the phone. Looked hard into the boot, he did, saw the keys, reached in and pulled them out.

  “I found your keys,” he lied. “They were on the drive, under the car. You must have dropped them.”

  That was the first time he had put his unique skill to any real use.

  And the last, for a long time, not least because he could not think of any way to use the power he had been given, and put it to any good use. He had a feeling that he should use it in that way. To help people who couldn’t do it, rather than help himself.

  By now, he was at school, and so busy that he hardly had time to think of his strange abilities, and it certainly hadn’t occurred to him how to apply it in his new environment.

  But he did discover something new one day. He got home to find his mother was out, so he couldn’t get in. He looked hard and could see into the hall through the front door, but there was no way he could see anything inside that would help. He went to the back door, and this time he could see a spare set of keys on the kitchen dresser. Out of reach, though. He turned away, resolved to wait. Slowly though, he came to wonder if there might be a way of getting those keys. If he could get his arm in through the door, perhaps he could reach the lock and open it from the inside. He was about to try when a further thought struck him. If he could reach inside, why couldn’t he just walk through? Not just his hand, and his arm, but all of him. He concentrated hard on the keys, and suddenly, there he was. In the kitchen. He had managed to get right through the locked door.

  He felt quite sick to think of what he had just been able to do.

  He now had a new problem. He had to get out again before his mother got home. If she found him indoors, he would never be able to explain how he got in. In a panic, he tried to get into the garden the same way he had got in from it. He smashed straight in to the door.

  He felt blood running down his face from where he had banged his forehead on the door frame.

  Think!

  Don’t panic!

  He pulled himself together, and used the keys to unlock the door from the inside. Once out, he locked the door again, and thankfully found he was able to reach through far enough to toss the keys back on to the dresser, just as he heard his mother’s car on the gravel drive at the front. Too close for comfort. He knew he had to be even more careful in future.

  His mother patched up his ‘accident at school’, and left Christian to ponder on the new-found miracle he had discovered. He didn’t know it at the time, but he was soon to discover that he could perform other ‘miracles’ as well. Considerably more useful, too. From then on he could always reach into packets of biscuits or boxes of chocolates and take one out without leaving behind any trace of what he had done. More than once, his Mother had returned things to the shop because they were not full.

  ***

  They were on holiday at the time. Staying on a farm in Devon.

  Christian’s father did not have a brilliant job with the local authority. Not the sort that allowed him to take his family abroad twice a year. Or even once. So bed and breakfast on a farm was what they could afford, and what they actually really enjoyed. The country air was good, there was a relaxed pace to the life on the farm, and plenty of new things to see and explore without walking too far. They had been there twice before, and had got to know the farmer and his wife pretty well. Christian especially enjoyed it. He was becoming more and more introverted, the more he came to realise that he was a bit unusual in what he could do, and the more he understood that he couldn’t share his secrets with others. As he did at home and at school, Christian tended to go off on his own; to keep his own company and to shun the friendship of others. On the farm, he enjoyed exploring the fields and the hedgerows, while his parents went on longer walks.

  They were, however, becoming increasing concerned about Christian, and his strange attitude to things. They were sure there was something wrong somewhere, but could not explain it. He had few friends, kept himself to himself, had little to say for himself, and always seemed to prefer his own company to that of others. Including them. That hurt a bit. It was while they were on their farm holiday this year that they decided to seek advice. They thought their GP would be a good starting point, and resolved to see him, on their own, as soon as they could when they got home. They would take Christian later if the doctor wanted to see him, or take him to some sort of specialist if that’s what the doctor recommended.

  Christian, meanwhile, was coming to terms with his lot, although he understood in some mysterious way, what his parents were planning. He quite enjoyed his own company, but discovered, while on that same farm holiday, that he was not really as alone as he had thought. He was looking for bird’s nests in the hedge at the time. He hadn’t noticed that he had strayed into a field full of cows, which, being naturally curious creatures, came across the field to see what was going on.

  At first, Christian was quite frightened – he had been told to keep away from the livestock, in case they became aggressive. As the herd got nearer, he realized that they did not like strangers. He wasn’t the man who brought them food, or led them to the cowshed for milking, so, they thought, he must be up to no good and mean them harm.

  In some way, Christian knew what they were thinking.

  Somehow, too, by facing up to them and walking towards them as they approached, he managed to make them understand that he meant them no harm, and was simply looking for bird’s nests in their field. He would never understand how he did it, but the cows appeared to know that he was no threat to them. Christian was able to approach them, and even give the apparent leader of the herd a friendly pat
on the nose. The others gathered round, and suddenly they were all friends.

  Back at the farm that evening, the herdsman told Christian that he had seen him with the herd, and told him he was lucky not to have been butted or trampled.

  “They’re all right,” said Christian. “Once you get to know them.”

  “Get to know them?” said an incredulous labourer. “How can you possibly get to know a herd of cows?”

  “They know you,” replied Christian. “By the way, one of them is quite sick.”

  “How on earth would you know that?” he demanded.

  “The one with the large white diamond on her forehead; needs to see the vet,” announced Christian. “She’s really quite sick.”

  “I know the one you mean, but she looked all right when I took the hay to the field this morning.”

  “The vet will tell you,” said Christian.

  The man shook his head.

  “As it happens, the vet’s coming tomorrow to do a TB check on the herd. I’ll see what he has to say.”

  “Thanks.”

  Christian knew what he was thinking. The man went off muttering about ‘townies not knowing nothing about anything, least of all about cows’.

  In the half-light of dusk, Christian slipped away again from the farmhouse, after supper. For some reason, the two Border Collies decided they wanted to go with him as he went back to the herd. The cows would normally have been apprehensive of the dogs, but not as they were with Christian, who had told them to behave.

  The sick cow was relieved to know that help was on the way in the morning.

  ***

  It was nearly dark when Christian noticed a few rabbits about. They were as plain as day to him. He was able to corner one of them, using the Collies. One the dogs expertly caught it and swiftly killed it with a sharp shake of the head, breaking the animal’s neck before it suffered.

  The dogs were surprised and pleased to discover their new-found skill, guided by Christian, and the farmer’s wife was equally surprised and pleased to be presented with the rabbit.

  “Most unusual, that is,” she commented. “They’re sheep dogs, not hunters, and I’ve never known them kill before. And they don’t usually do anything in the dark. But it will make a nice casserole for tomorrow, you’ll see.”

  Christian knew what she was thinking, even before he heard her challenge her husband.

  “A few rabbits now and then would be a great help towards the housekeeping,” she said. “If that boy can take the dogs out hunting, then so can you.”

  But Christian knew he couldn’t.

  ***

  Christian learnt a lot during that holiday on the farm. He was able to spend even more time to himself than normal, and to get away from people when he wanted. He used the time to explore his attributes, as well as discover new ones. What people were thinking, for instance. And animals. He could read them all like a book. He also discovered that he could influence people up to a point – what they thought and what they did.

  He knew his parents were worried about him, and that they planned to take him to see the GP and eventually a specialist. But there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop them at the moment, although he tried telling them that they had no need to worry. But he couldn’t, yet, get through to them on serious things like this. Getting them to buy ice creams was one thing, but this was a bit different. He needed more time, that’s all.

  Their GP was a wonderful man – elderly, of the old school, round of girth and bald of head, seemingly knowledgeable about everything, and yet, somehow, knowing nothing apart from what life had taught him. He knew about tonsils, and flu, and in-growing toenails, piles and pregnancy, dandruff and diabetes, but not much about much else. Christian knew what to expect. The dear man first of all prescribed anti-depressants, although he knew they would do nothing. Christian wasn’t depressed – just frightened of talking to people who wouldn’t understand. Next, stimulants. Something to spur the inactive into hyper-activity. Not for Christian, who was already actively avoiding contact with people with whom he knew he would not be able to communicate on equal terms.

  Eventually, and as expected, the man referred Christian to a specialist. This one dealt with behavioural science. He believed he knew exactly why people did what they did, and how they could be influenced to do something different. But not Christian, who did not propose to share his extraordinary capabilities with anyone, least of all with a chap who would never understand or be able to explain what Christian was able to do, or change the way Christian chose to handle the situation.

  So he was passed on again, this time to a brain surgeon, who immediately organised all sorts of scans. All they did was show that Christian was just like anyone else, so far as science could tell.

  But between them, these various specialists had been able to conclude that Christian was capable of doing things that were – shall we say – unusual, and that this could explain why he was so introverted. They concluded that he was seeking to keep his rare attributes to himself, not least because he was unable to explain how he did what he was able to do.

  While all this was going on, Christian was still at school. He was learning fast. Whatever they taught him, somehow it seemed to stick, to be recalled at will. He realised that this was unusual, and went out of his way to hide the fact. It actually made exams a bit more difficult, since he knew that he had to get some things wrong to avoid drawing attention to his remarkable memory. It wasn’t all memory, either. He had developed the knack of understanding what people were thinking. He had first noticed this on the farm, but realised how useful it was during a maths exam. After he had quickly glanced at all the questions, he looked up to notice the Maths teacher, who was supervising the exam, was going through the paper himself and mentally working out the solution to the problems. Christian was able to memorise his calculations, and commit them to paper as the morning went on. This was when he realised the dangers of a perfect exam paper. It was even as if Christian had been told to build in errors. He had caught the teacher’s eye, and the thought immediately went through his mind, ‘get some wrong.’ Christian had no real idea what was going on until the Maths teacher called Christian to his study a few days later.

  “I’m glad you did as I suggested.”

  “Sir?”

  “To get some wrong.”

  “I don’t understand, sir,” said Christian, totally confused.

  “That’s why I wanted to see you. To explain a few things. You will already know that you have some extraordinary abilities, not shared by others.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I wanted to reassure you that you are not totally alone. There are others like you, although very few with the range of skills which you will develop as you get older. I have many more than you will ever acquire or need. I knew, for instance, that you were following my mental calculations during the exam, and that it would be dangerous for you to produce a perfect set of answers.”

  “I thought that, too.”

  “You did the right thing, as you have always done in the past. You must avoid drawing attention to yourself and your abilities. We must all put our abilities to the common good, and not seek any personal benefit.”

  “How will I find other people who have these special abilities?”

  “They will find you, as I have,” replied the teacher.

  “How is it I can do these things.”

  “You are old enough now to be told. Your special powers have been given to you so that you can help the beings that inhabit this planet to thrive – to do well and to avoid evil. It is difficult to explain, but your powers come from another world, as inhabitants of this planet would have it. We are not extra-terrestrial beings. We are not, in that sense, ‘beings’ at all. We have no form, no shape, no life of our own, and no home elsewhere in the universe. People here believe that any extra-terr
estrial ‘life’ would have to be in a form they know and would recognise. But we are not. We are simply an all-pervading intelligence. And we are universal. We have no physical presence, but adapt to the physical form of others. In some cases, it is micro-biological life deep in the frozen wastes of planets distant from this one, which we seek to help to develop. In others, we can assist the survival of life forms on planets long thought, by those on earth, to be dead. We are a power, and nothing else, and we permeate the universe, going at will where we believe we can help physical life to develop. On this planet, where we have had a presence for several millennia, we strive to combat the natural violence and evil which is endemic in its human and other life forms. It begins to seem however, after all this time, like an impossible task. But we continue to hope, and now work by implanting our intelligence into some of the very young inhabitants who we believe to be most likely to respond in the way we wish. You are but one of those chosen. It is to be hoped that you will succeed where others have failed.”

  “Tell me about some of these people,” demanded Christian. “Give some examples of the successes and failures,”

  “You will know of those in history who have succeeded in bringing peace to this world, and those who, on the other hand, have sought to use their power for their own benefit. But we choose our proxies carefully, although not always successfully. Some we should have selected have passed us by, while others have been defeated in their efforts, in spite of our best endeavours, because of the combined forces of evil brought against them. As an example, some two thousand years ago, we tried to bring peace to the Middle East and to the whole of mankind. Some will say we failed, although the man chosen has left behind a lasting legacy, and is still worshipped in churches throughout the planet. He remains, however, a figure of controversy, as you will know.”

  “He died a terrible death.”

  “But his spirit lives on.”

  “Can I talk to you again, sir?”

  “Of course. But privately, not in public.”

  “Thank you, sir. I often feel quite lonely,” admitted Christian. “Not being able to share what I can do.”