An Hour in the Darkness (9 page)

“Come on, don't cry,” said Ronnie, so tenderly it just about killed me to hear it.

Hell, Ronnie, I was crying too, you know.

Then Ronnie stroked Danny's wonderful blond hair in a way that made me want to cut it all off his goddamn head. I'm so jealous and insecure all the time, I swear it. I felt she must love him for sure. Elvis Presley was singing “The Wonder of You” somewhere behind me. I wanted to tear Ronnie away from old crying Danny and dance a little with her. Listen, I'm the best goddamn dancer you're ever going to meet. Listen, when I dance, people watch. That's how good I am.

“They're playing our song,” I said.

“What?”

Ronnie turned on me sharply. It cheered me to see the hate back in her eyes.

“It's Elvis, babe.”

I shrugged my shoulders like there was no need for any explanations. I think I even curled my lip for her like Elvis would have done.

“Can't you see that Danny's upset?” she said.

“Yeah, I can see that. Of course I can see that.”

Well, old Danny boy started to cry even louder when old Ronnie mentioned the fact that he was upset, and everything. It was all done for effect though. He was making a right old song and dance about it, and it made me feel sick to have to watch him. I was the only one who could see right through him though. I swear when Ronnie wasn't looking he had a goddamn grin all over his face. He was getting a real kick out of Ronnie stroking his hair as well. I think I shook my fist at him and said “Why I oughta.”

“Can you leave us alone for a minute?” said Ronnie.

“You came here with me, Ronnie,” I said, in a sad, serious way that I was kind of proud of afterwards.

“I know, but Danny's upset,” said Ronnie.

Well, old Danny boy hollered even louder.

“I know he is, of course he is, but we don't like Danny, do we?”

“I like Danny,” she said, and old Danny grinned all over his face again.

“I know you like Danny, but you don't love him like you love me, do you?”

I'm telling you straight – when I reminded Ronnie that she loved me old Danny boy just about sobbed the place down.

“Danny's dad died a few months back,” said Ronnie, sharply again, like I should have known all about it or something.

“I'm sorry about that, of course I am,” I said.

“You should be.”

Ronnie said it in a real hostile way too. I looked at old Danny boy. He'd stopped crying and was waiting for me to react. And when Ronnie started stroking his face I knew then that everything was lost. I knew it was over for us. I think I'd known it all along. We might have made it too, Ronnie and me, if it hadn't been for old Danny's dad dying on us like that.

I don't know why, but I just started laughing at them both. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stop even if I'd wanted to and I did want to, believe me. I was like the goddamn Joker or something.

Ronnie looked horrified and old Danny boy started getting worked up again. He sure wasn't helping much.

I just kept on laughing. I really did, although inside I was feeling frightened. I think I knew then that pretty soon I was going to start screaming.

Ronnie was still glaring at me. I put my hand out to her, for help, but she just held old Danny boy even tighter. He was practically wailing by now. I kept on laughing, but my reflection in the kitchen window behind them looked terrified.
Real terrified.

So, of course, I started screaming. There wasn't anything else left to do. I was laughing and screaming for a few seconds and then I was just screaming. Of course, everybody at the party came into the kitchen to watch me scream. They looked at me real closely for a few minutes, like they couldn't believe it, and then they got hold of me and bundled me into the street. And Ronnie didn't even try to stop them. She just watched me with an awful look on her face. I wasn't a big hit with her friends, I admit it.

I think that by the time I was thrown outside I was screaming pretty intensely. I was pretty scared too because I didn't know where I was. I didn't know the way back to the Angel Gateway. It was the end of the road for me, and I knew it. Christ, the whole world knew it. Old Danny boy knew it for sure. Like I tried to tell you before: once you start screaming you're finished.

Just a small note here before we go on. When they were turning me out of the house old Jenny turned up and tried to stop them. She was begging them to leave me alone, but they didn't seem to hear her. She said I was her big brother and they hadn't seen me in the best light, and that really I was a pretty decent sort of feller. In the end she just sat down on the front step and sobbed. I just wanted to say that for the record.
Jenny, my precious.

Anyway, I couldn't stop screaming and that's what terrified me the most. I thought I was going to be screaming for the rest of my life. I figured that as soon as I woke up in the morning I would start screaming. The only time I wasn't going to scream was when I was asleep and if I couldn't get to sleep, I would just lie in my bed screaming. That was how it was going to be from now on. I was convinced of it.

Anyway, I ran up and down that old street screaming until the police came and threw my sorry ass in a van.

So they put me back in the hospital for a while. The Psychiatric Ward, for crying
out loud. They crammed a whole lot of pills down my throat and, gradually, I stopped screaming. It was pretty hairy for a few weeks, but finally they got everything under control. I don't want to dwell on the dark times too much, okay? The upshot of it was that if I kept taking the pills I would be fine and if I stopped, I wouldn't. They also said that if I took the pills I would be out for Christmas.

Jenny came to visit me, of course. I woke up one time and she was sitting in the chair next to my bed. Her arms were folded pretty tightly and I could see she was real uptight about something. She hadn't even brought me any grapes, for crying out loud, and Jenny knew I loved grapes just about more than anything else in the world. Listen, if you ever visit me in the hospital you'd better bring me grapes, okay, or I won't even speak to you.

Anyway, I started chewing the fat with old Jenny for a while and the people in the beds next to me didn't seem to mind too much, what with her being dead and not really there and everything.

Anyway, after the pleasantries, old Jenny cut right to the chase.

“This is probably the last time I'm coming, you know?”

After Jenny had said it she sort of looked out the window behind my bed for a second or two so she didn't have to see the look on my face. Listen, old Jenny knew I wouldn't be too overjoyed about the whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, but why?” I said.

“Because you're getting better.”

Jenny sure was fidgety. She started looking at her watch like she had somewhere important to go all of a sudden.

“Am I? I don't feel any better,” I said.

“Yes, of course you're getting better. It's the drugs they're giving you in here.”

It sure amused me when old Jenny said the word drugs like that.

“What drugs?” I said.

“I don't know what they are, do I? I'm not a doctor, you nincompoop.”

Old Jenny was always calling someone a nincompoop ever since she'd heard the word on a radio show. It's just about the best thing in the whole wide world though when Jenny calls you a nincompoop.

“You're a nincompoop too,” I said, and we both laughed for a while.

“Has Ronnie broken up with you then?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Sorry about that. Was it because of the screaming?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Girls just don't like that kind of thing.”

“Don't worry,” said Jenny.

“Thanks for trying to stop them throwing me out the house like that.”

“That's okay,” she said, shrugging her shoulders like it was nothing.

Jenny was being real good about the whole thing, you know, not rubbing salt into the wound, and everything. Jenny's pretty decent about the important things.

“She was pretty though, wasn't she?”

“Just about the prettiest,” I said.

“Did you love her?”

“Yeah, I suppose I did. In my own way. Not as much as I love you though, you nincompoop.”

We both laughed again.

“She wasn't right for you,” said Jenny.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You've got to find someone more suitable.”

“I always pick the wrong ones, don't I?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so. Who's
Gregory's Girl
?” she said.

“You are,” I said.

“Listen, there's something important I want to tell you.”

Jenny's voice sounded a whole load more serious all of a sudden and my heart dropped in my chest.

“What is it?” I said.

I was sure breathing pretty hard as well for some reason.

“You've got to go home now. After you're better that is, of course. If you don't then I'm going to smack you.”

We both laughed again. Old Jenny was always threatening to smack someone.

“Why do I have to go home?” I said.

“Because Daddy's forgiven you.”

“Has he?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “Everybody knows it. In his heart he knows it wasn't your fault I got killed.”

“I don't like it when you start talking about getting killed like that,” I said.

“Oh for Heaven's sake. You've got to start facing up to things, you know. How are you ever going to survive if you don't start facing up to things?”

Boy, it sure tore me in two when old Jenny started talking about facing up to things like that.

Jenny stood up to wipe away a tear that had fallen down my face. She did it with a grubby piece of tissue she pulled from her sleeve. She had to stand on tiptoes to reach me, for crying out loud. Jenny was always pretending to be Mum until it just about drove you crazy. It sure made me feel sick when she spat on the tissue to clean my face. It sure is the greatest feeling in the world when old Jenny is wiping your face with a tissue though.

“Have you spoken to him?” I said, weakly, after she'd plonked herself back down in the chair again.

“Of course not, I'm dead,” she said.

Jenny was giggling again, like it was just about the funniest thing she'd ever heard in the whole wide world.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You're the only one who can see me, you nincompoop.”

“Is it because of the bang on the head?” I said.

“Yes! Finally, the penny has dropped. Well done. Give him a clap.”

“How do you know he's forgiven me then?” I asked.

“I just know, that's all. I know these things.”

“Smarty pants,” I teased her.

I was starting to feel a little brighter about things in general. Old Jenny was starting to fade before my eyes.

“You're fading away,” I said.

Jenny glanced outside the window and sniffed about a million times. I don't think she wanted me to see the tears in her eyes. Old Jenny was always looking out the window when she didn't want you to see the tears in her eyes.

“It's because you're getting better, you silly thing,” she sobbed. “Don't you know anything? Blimey, I thought you understood it all, but now I'm not so sure. You're hopeless.”

“Don't go,” I said.

“I've got to. It's for the best, you know.”

“I'll never forget you,” I said.

“I know. Blimey, you're far too sentimental for your own good.”

“Am I?” I said.

“Yes, but it's why I love you bestest of all.”

“Bestest isn't even a proper word,” I told her.

“Now who's the smarty pants?”

I stuck my tongue out and Jenny pulled a face.

“Oh, your tongue's horrible and yellow.” She screwed up her eyes in disgust.

“I can hardly see you now,” I said.

“Good, that's the way it should be. Now, remember, you've got to go home when you're better. Mum will make you a nice bread and butter pudding when you get back. Your favourite. Oh, I hate bread and butter pudding. And I'll only eat the custard if it's not too lumpy.”

“You're a funny one,” I whispered.

“Make sure you come and visit my grave. And bring bluebells. You know I only like bluebells. Oh I used to love the bluebells in Swithland Wood.”

“Stop talking about graves and all that; it's upsetting.”

“Oh I could scream. I have to treat you like a child.”

“I can hardly hear you anymore. Speak up, child.”

“God, now I've got to just about shout it all over the place.”

“Don't blaspheme,” I said.

“You old silly.”

I remember when she was alive, Jenny was always saying how much she hated having to “shout it all over the place” because I never listened to her. I
was
listening, I used to say. Jenny said I never listened because I was always too busy reading some boring old book or something. I told her I could read a boring old book and still listen to her at the same time, for Chrissake.

Jenny was right though; sometimes I didn't listen. Jenny spoke so damn much sometimes you couldn't listen to it all. If Jenny were here now I sure would listen to every word she said.

I had the merest notion that Jenny leant over the bed and kissed me because I felt a damp tingling sensation on my cheek. I thought I saw her smiling too and then, just before she disappeared altogether, she stuck her tongue out. I only saw her one more time after that.

I recovered pretty quickly. The drugs really helped. The doctor said that although I wasn't cured entirely, if I kept taking the pills, things could be controlled. He said I would never have to scream again if I didn't want to; I told him I didn't want to. He said it was high time I started living normally again. He also went on to say that it was time to come back into the light. He said I had to look upon my life as a single day, made up of hours, and that what had happened recently was just one small hour of my life. He told me I had had my hour in the darkness and that it was time to come back into the light. He sure seemed to know what he was talking about as well.

Like Michael Caine said – when he wasn't being Scrooge
and everything
–
if you haven't got peace of mind you haven't got anything.

I left my flat above the Angel Gateway and went back home. Mum was waiting for me on the step. Dad wasn't there. I thought he was probably down the pub, but Jenny said just you wait and see. It was Christmas Eve and Dad had hung up strings of coloured lights around the windows. The sky above the house was bluish and there was a slight fall of snow and it was all as perfect as hell. I hesitated at the gate. I looked down at Jenny. She gave my hand a squeeze. She told me to get straight in the house before she had to get cross. I smiled. We both knew it was the last time I would ever see her and I was glad about it in a morbid kind of way. I put down my bag and knelt next to her.

“I'll never forget you, Jenny,” I said.

“I should hope not. Now get up, you're frightening Mummy.”

I stood back up and smiled.

“Jenny, I feel scared about the future.”

“Franklin, my dear, I don't give a damn,” said Jenny.

“Goodbye, funny face,” I said.

I opened the gate and walked up the path. Mum was holding out her arms. I saw Dad. He was behind her in the hall. He was smiling too. They both hugged me for about a hundred years on the step. Then they went in. I looked back. Jenny was waving at the gate; she looked kind of faint and I could see the snow falling through her.