Black Rabbit Summer (10 page)

She glanced at Raymond, gave him a squeeze, then looked back at me. ‘Ray’s with me tonight,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m showing him how to have fun. You’re welcome to join us, if you want.’

‘No, thanks.’ I looked at Raymond again. He was beginning to look uncomfortable now. I could see the growing fear in his eyes, the anxiety, the confusion. It was almost as if he’d only just realized where he was and what he was doing. ‘Come on, Raymond,’ I said quietly. ‘I’ll buy you a hot dog.’

He flicked a quick glance at Stella, then started to move away from her. She tightened her grip on his shoulder and pulled him back.

‘What’s the matter?’ she said, pouting at him. ‘Don’t you
like
me any more?’

He grinned awkwardly at her.

She smiled at me.

I glanced at the guys with the camera and the microphone, and just for a moment an unknown and unsettling image flashed through my head – something white, something sad, something vaguely familiar – but it was gone before I had time to think about it. I shook it from my head, walked up to Stella, and stopped right in front of her. I looked at her for a second or two, then I leaned forward and spoke quietly in her ear, so no one else could hear
what I was saying. ‘Stop fucking about with him,’ I whispered, ‘OK?’

Her smile didn’t waver. ‘Or else what?’

I didn’t have an answer to that, so I just stared at her. Although she was still smiling at me, there was no trace of humour in her face. No joy in her eyes. All I could see was a cold mocking emptiness. It was the look of a girl who truly believed she was the only worthwhile thing in the world.

‘You’re going to wish you hadn’t done this,’ she said casually.

‘Am I?’

She smiled. ‘You’ve got no idea…’

Everything went strangely quiet then. Just for a moment, the maddening sounds of the fairground seemed muffled and distant, as if they were underwater, and the babbling chatter of the crowds all around us faded into a barely audible hum. The lights faded too. The brightness dulled, smothered by the blackness of the night, and all I could see with any real clarity was Stella’s dark eyes staring deep into mine. Then, all at once, something cracked – a sharp electric sound, like the amplified lash of a whip – and everything came back to life again. The music, the lights, the crowds, the rides…

Stella laughed and took her arm from Raymond’s shoulder. ‘I was only looking after him for you,’ she said to me. ‘You can have him back now.’ She glanced at Raymond. ‘All right?’

He nodded at her.

‘Go on, then,’ she told him. ‘Go and get yourself a hot dog.’

Raymond looked at me.

I suddenly felt really tired. I was too hot, too sweaty. My body was aching all over and my head was buzzing with too much of everything. I wanted to say something to Raymond, something helpful and reassuring, but I couldn’t seem to find my voice. So
I just stepped over, took him by the arm, and quietly led him away.

We didn’t say anything to each other for a while, we just walked along through the bustling crowds, heading vaguely towards the far end of the fairground. I didn’t know why, but I thought it might be quieter there, a bit less manic, and I was hoping to find some toilets, too. I was getting pretty desperate now.

It was slow-going through the swarms of people, and as we approached the far end of the fair, instead of getting quieter, everything seemed to get louder and busier. More people, more noise, more madness. I didn’t understand it at first, but after a while I realized that it was just one of those places – the kind of fairground place that attracts all the gangs and the kids looking for trouble. There were loads of them – most of them hanging around a big dodgem place, some of them drinking from cans of beer, others just slouching around looking hard. The dodgem place was huge, a massive wooden arena of crashing cars and bright blue sparks, screams and thuds, booming rap music. As we passed it by, making sure we didn’t bump into anyone, the crash of the dodgems and the raging rant of the rap music faded into the rattle and whirl of an adjoining waltzer ride. Lights flashed –
EVOLUTION!
– and Madonna’s baby-girl voice boomed out –
Like a child, you whisper softly to me
…

‘Nicole,’ Raymond shouted in my ear.

‘What?’ I shouted back.

He stopped and pointed over at the waltzer. The seats were whizzing round, spinning and whirling, moving up and down, and it was hard to make out anything in the blur of lights and screaming faces… but then I saw her. She was in a seat with two
other girls. I recognized one of them – a schoolfriend of Nic’s – but I didn’t know who the other one was. They all looked fairly wrecked – wild-eyed and crazy – and as they whirled round and round, I could see that one of the waltzer guys had already moved in on them. He looked pretty much the same as every other waltzer guy I’d ever seen – cool and lean, rough and easy, not a care in the world. He was standing behind Nicole’s seat, his arms draped casually over the back as he leaned in and turned on the charm. With the lights strobing on and off, and the waltzer spinning round and round, it was like watching something played out in a slow-motion flick book: the waltzer guy leaning in, Nicole ignoring him, the other two flirting… flick, flick… Nicole looking over at me, our eyes meeting for a second… flick, flick… Nicole leaning back, smiling up at the waltzer guy… flick, flick… her hand on the back of his neck as he leans down and whispers in her ear… flick, flick… flick, flick…

Flick, flick.

Heaven help me…

Madonna was still singing as I walked away and left Nic to it.

‘Are you all right?’ Raymond asked me.

‘Yeah… I’m fine. Do you know where the toilets are?’

He looked around for a while, then shook his head. ‘There’s some trees over there.’

We were sitting on a bench in the relative peace and quiet of some children’s rides near the far end of the fairground. It was too late for little kids, and the rides – bouncy castles and miniature merry-go-rounds – were too tame for anyone else, so everything was dark and deserted.

I looked at Raymond.

‘What?’ he said.

‘You know what.’

He grinned.

I sighed. ‘You know what she was doing, don’t you?’

‘Nicole?’

‘No, Stella.’

He shrugged and looked away.

‘Come on, Raymond,’ I said. ‘You know what I mean… why did you let her do it?’

‘Do what?’

‘She was laughing at you… they all were. They were taking the piss…’

‘I know.’

‘So why did you let them do it?’

‘I don’t know…’

‘Didn’t it bother you?’

He didn’t answer me, he just shrugged again, and I didn’t know what else to say. It was just so hard with Raymond. His usual state of mind was ‘not quite right’, so whenever he seemed quite normal, like now, it usually meant that he wasn’t quite right. And that was always pretty hard to work out. So I did what I usually do when I don’t know what to do – I didn’t do anything. I just sat there, looking around, trying not to think about Nicole and the waltzer guy.

After a while, Raymond said, ‘Stella means star.’

I looked at him. ‘What?’

‘The star’s going out tonight,’ he said. ‘Stella’s going out…’ He turned and looked at me. ‘She kissed me.’

‘Yeah, I know. Come here…’ I took a tissue from my pocket and wiped a smear of lipstick off his face.

‘I feel weird, Pete,’ he said quietly.

I smiled at him. ‘You
are
weird.’

‘No,’ he muttered, ‘I mean
really
weird. I feel like… I don’t know. It’s like I feel like I’m someone else.’

‘Someone else?’

‘I keep seeing things…’

‘What kind of things?’

‘Things that aren’t there. Strange shapes and colours… I don’t know.’ He squinted into the distance. ‘It’s kind of like the air’s moving…’

I saw Nicole again as we walked back round the other side of the fair. She was sitting with the waltzer guy on a wooden crate at the back of the ride. He had his feet up on a generator, and she had her hand on his thigh, and they were both drinking something out of paper cups.

We still hadn’t found the toilets when Raymond suddenly stopped beside a drab-looking canvas tent. The flap of the tent was open, and a sign above it said
MADAME BAPTISTE – FORTUNE-TELLER.

‘Come on, Raymond,’ I said. ‘I’m going to burst if we don’t… Raymond?’

But he was already entering the tent.

‘Shit,’ I muttered.

I could see the toilets now. They were just up ahead, about twenty metres away – two or three rows of dull-blue Portaloos. I looked longingly at them for a moment, desperately wanting to go, and I knew it’d probably be OK if I did. I mean, I’d only be a minute or two… Raymond would probably still be here when I came back. But
probably
wasn’t enough. I’d rather put up with a bursting bladder than have to go looking for Raymond again. So I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and followed him into the tent.

The only fortune-tellers I’d ever seen before were the kind you get in crappy old films and TV programmes, so I suppose that’s what I was expecting to see: a wrinkly old gypsy woman with long black hair and long black fingernails, hunched over a crystal ball… rings on her fingers, silver bangles on her wrists, a shawl draped round her shoulders. But the woman sitting at a table with Raymond wasn’t like that at all. She wasn’t hunched over a crystal ball, she didn’t have long black hair, and she wasn’t old and wrinkly either. I guessed she was about forty, maybe a bit younger. Or maybe a bit older. It was hard to tell. She had dark eyes, very pale skin, and her dark brown hair was braided tightly and coiled into a bun on top of her head. Despite the heat, she was wearing an old-fashioned brown woollen dress, buttoned up tightly to her neck. And that was pretty much it – no rings on her fingers, no silver bangles, no gypsy shawl draped round her shoulders. She didn’t look very mysterious at all. But as I stood there in the doorway of the tent, and she sat there gazing calmly at me, I found it hard to take my eyes off her.

‘Come in, please,’ she said, beckoning me over.

The air in the tent was surprisingly cool and quiet, and as I moved away from the entrance and headed over to the table,
the sounds of the fairground outside seemed to soften and die in the silence. On the table, which was covered with a plain black cloth, there was a lighted candle and a pack of cards. Raymond was sitting with his back to me, and as I stopped behind him and put my hand on his arm, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at me.

‘Take a seat,’ the woman said to me, nodding towards an empty chair beside Raymond.

‘I’m all right, thanks,’ I told her, backing away slightly. ‘I’ll just stand here, if that’s OK.’

She smiled serenely. ‘You’re in a hurry, perhaps?’

I shrugged.

She looked at me. ‘You’re not a believer.’

‘Sorry?’

She didn’t say anything for a moment or two, she just kept looking at me. It felt a bit unnerving, as if she was studying me, reading me, searching me for secrets. Of course, I knew she didn’t have any mystical powers or anything, and I knew all this fortune-telling stuff was just a scam… I mean, if she could
really
see into the future, she wouldn’t be sitting in a tent in the middle of a recreation ground on a Saturday night, would she? If she could
really
see into the future, she’d be rich and famous, a billionaire… she’d be the most powerful woman in the world.

So, no, I wasn’t a believer.

The only thing I believed in just then was the eye-watering ache in my bladder.

‘You can go if you wish,’ the woman said to me.

I looked at her, not sure what she meant.

She smiled at me. ‘We’ll still be here when you come back.’

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I muttered.

She gazed at me for a moment longer, still smiling calmly, then
– with a slight nod of her head – she turned her attention to Raymond.

‘So,’ she said quietly, looking into his eyes, ‘let’s see what we know.’ She picked up the pack of cards. ‘Are you quite comfortable?’

Raymond nodded.

She smiled. ‘Not too hot?’

He shook his head.

She said, ‘You’ve had a long night… both of you. Things to remember.’

Raymond said nothing.

I watched the woman’s hands as she placed the pack of cards on the table and spread them out in a line, face down. There were no pictures or patterns on the backs of the cards – they were a plain dark red – and when the woman flipped the cards over, I was surprised to see that they were perfectly ordinary playing cards – Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds, Spades… the usual fifty-two cards. Nothing fancy, nothing special.

‘You like animals,’ the woman said to Raymond.

‘Yes… yes, I do.’

She gathered up the cards and placed the deck on the table again. ‘Animals,’ she said quietly. ‘You feel close to them.’

‘Yes.’

‘They make you feel good.’

I couldn’t see Raymond’s face, but I knew he was smiling.

The woman placed her right hand on the tablecloth – palm down, fingers spread out. She studied it for a moment, removed her hand from the table, and then – with the index finger of her left hand – she started sketching the outline of something round the space where her hand had been. Her finger didn’t leave a mark on the dull black cloth, so I have no idea
how
I knew what
she was drawing… but there was no doubt in my mind that it was a rabbit.

She looked at Raymond. ‘He’s not black enough, is he?’

Raymond stared at the invisible picture. ‘Not quite…’

‘I need a paler hand.’

I knew what she meant. The paleness of her skin had made the black of the cloth seem even blacker, but it still wasn’t as black as Black Rabbit.

‘He’s softer too,’ Raymond said.