Lost Christmas (23 page)

He looked at Anthony, who was still standing in front of him waiting for him to hold out his hand. Goose had truly wanted to believe that some sort of magic existed in the world and that this strange, odd, weird, bizarre man could give him back what he wanted most. His little Mutt. But he couldn't. Life's just not like that.

Goose let out a long, slow breath and reached out his left hand. Lal and Helen looked on as Goose turned it palm side up, exposing the welt of the burn. It was in a very
distinctive crescent shape. And it was deep. Goose would have that scar for the rest of his life.

‘So there it is,' said Goose with a heaviness to his voice. ‘Now what?'

Anthony took a deep breath and slowly started to remove the glove from his left hand. He hadn't removed that glove all day. It was always the right he would take off. There was a reason for this. He felt self-conscious about his left hand. He finished removing the glove and held it out to Goose, palm up. Goose frowned as he saw what was on Anthony's hand.

A scar.

A scar like his. No, not like it. Identical. The two scars were the same. The only difference was that Anthony's was old. Years old. But it was in exactly the same place on his hand and exactly the same shape.
That doesn't make any sense
, thought Goose.
How can that be?
How could Anthony have exactly the same scar as him?

‘I don't …' Goose's voice faltered for a moment but he found it again. ‘I don't understand.'

Anthony smiled. ‘You will,' he said, and with that he clamped his hand on to Goose's. As skin touched skin, both Anthony and Goose drew in a sharp breath. They felt as if they had been snatched up in a passing tornado. Everything
was spinning wildly. Lal's garden quickly became a blur. It felt as if the g-forces were going to rip them limb from limb and turn them inside out. Then a black hole opened up beneath them and they were sucked down into nothingness.

The whirlwind disorientation segued into a world of noise and movement, lights of every colour and people: hundreds and hundreds of people. Whizzes, bangs and music filled the air. There were a dozen different tunes and songs coming from a dozen different directions, mixing together into a cacophonous porridge of sound. Goose found himself standing in the middle of a crowd. His dizziness passed and he looked about him but didn't recognize anyone. He was surrounded by happy-looking strangers. Families mostly. Fathers with children on their shoulders. Mothers pushing buggies. Kids eating toffee apples and balls of candyfloss bigger than
their heads. The air smelled of roasting chestnuts and cinnamon.

Goose squeezed his way through the crowds until he found a little open space. He hopped up on to a low wall to give himself a better view. Was he dreaming? How did he get here? He recognized where here was. He was in Blackpool, and he could tell from the special Christmas-themed illuminations, which were impressive though paled a little in comparison to Blackpool's regular illuminations (which were also on), that it was Christmastime. He had been here before. Two years ago at Christmas with his parents as a treat. He had loved it.

However, something was different, but he didn't know Blackpool well enough to pinpoint exactly what. It was more a feeling. He glanced up at the soaring buildings that lined the promenade. He couldn't remember so many being so very high. There were advertisements everywhere playing on massive video screens. They were for products Goose wasn't familiar with. He gazed up at one billboard directly above him. It was for something called the ‘eyePhone' by Apple, which, as far as Goose could tell, was similar to a contact lens. Plus people's clothing looked odd. So many styles he had never seen before.

‘'Scuse me,' said Goose to a woman walking past. Her skin was blemish-free and she was slim and pretty. She ignored him and walked on. Goose watched her go,
thinking she was rude. She must have heard him. Then he noticed something as he looked at the people around him. They were all slim, tall, healthy-looking. This wasn't the Blackpool he remembered. Junk food was being consumed everywhere, but there wasn't a single fatty to be seen.

A man walked past, tall, broad-shouldered, chiselled jaw. He looked up, directly at Goose, who was on the wall.

‘Can you help me?' asked Goose, but the man looked right through him. Goose realized the pretty woman from before wasn't being rude. She couldn't see him. No one could see him. He decided he was definitely dreaming. Strange thing was, he couldn't remember going to bed. Last thing he remembered was being in the old Indian lady's garden. He had given the bangle back. Anthony had taken off his glove and showed him a scar on his hand that was identical to Goose's. Goose looked at his hand and the scar. It tingled and looked fresh. Not like Anthony's. That was the same shape but it was old. Their hands had touched. Goose could remember a feeling of exhilaration coursing through him. Making every inch of his body feel weightless. Like being on a ride at a fairground. Suddenly he realized what this was. This was one of Anthony's visions. Except it wasn't Anthony's. It was his. Frank hadn't reported seeing anything when Anthony touched him. Neither had Dr Clarence, or Helen in the chapel. So why was he seeing
this? What was he seeing? Why was he in Blackpool of all places?

Just then, Goose became aware of a familiar voice as it penetrated his subconscious.

‘How about you, little lady?' he heard it say. Goose looked around, following the sound of the voice. He saw a small crowd of people a short distance away. That's where the voice was coming from. He jumped down from the wall and followed the sound. ‘Thank you very much. I shall look after her. Don't worry. Interesting fact: if Barbie was life-size she would be thirty-nine …' Goose pushed through the gathering of people and found himself looking at a street performer. He recognized him immediately. It was Anthony. Goose noticed how Anthony stood out from the people around him. He was scruffy and unshaven. He wasn't a glowing picture of health. He just looked like a normal person.

‘Anthony,' called Goose, pleased to see him, but Anthony didn't respond. Goose realized he couldn't see him or hear him, just like everyone else.

Anthony was holding a Barbie doll he had borrowed from a little girl in the crowd. He continued:

‘… twenty-three, thirty-three, stand seven-foot tall and have a neck twice the size of an average human's.'

Just then, a car honked its horn nearby. ‘Most car horns honk in the key of F,' said Anthony. ‘Sure you've always
wondered that.' The crowd chuckled. He had them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Goose saw a small scruffy dog sitting nearby and he gasped. For a moment he was sure it was Mutt. But then the moment passed and he could see it wasn't. He was very similar to Mutt, but his colouring was a little different. He sat near a large coat and bag. Goose realized it was Anthony's coat and bag and therefore it was Anthony's dog.

Anthony put the doll on a rug in the middle of his performance area. There were several objects already on the rug: a hat; a football (which was emblazoned with decals that read: ‘Fifa World Cup New Zealand 2042') and a ladies' purse.

‘Right, I need one more thing,' said Anthony, and he walked around the front of the crowd. He approached Goose, stopped and looked straight at him.

‘How about you, young man?' he said. ‘Got anything for me?'

‘Anthony!' said Goose. ‘You can see me?' Suddenly a hand holding a plastic bottle materialized out of Goose's chest. It scared the life out of him. He jumped and turned around to see a boy, a little younger than him, holding out a bottle of Coca-Cola. Anthony took it from him.

‘Did you know that Coca-Cola would be green if they didn't add colouring to it?'

‘Yeah, I did know that actually,' said Goose.

Anthony returned to the middle of his performance area and picked up all the objects he had gathered from the crowd. He lifted one leg and balanced the football on top of his foot. Then, holding everything else in one hand, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his cigarette lighter.

‘Lighters were invented before matches. Not a lot of people know that. And the late, great Sir Lord Michael Caine never said that in any of his films.'

Anthony flicked the wheel of the lighter theatrically and a large flame roared to life. Then he started juggling with the hat and the lighter and the doll and the Coca-Cola bottle and the purse. After a few moments of his audience oohing and ahhing he kicked the football up into the air and it effortlessly joined his juggling objects. The audience clapped and cheered. What a show. Then it all went wrong.

Anthony lost his balance and with it his rhythm. The cigarette lighter bounced off the doll and instantly set it alight. Goose looked at the little girl, whose eyes grew wide with horror as she watched her doll burst into flames.

‘Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!' shouted Anthony in a panic as he started flailing left and right, trying to keep everything in the air. The fire spread from the doll to each of the other objects in turn until all of them were ablaze. ‘Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Owwww! Owwww!'

Anthony started screaming as if he was being burned alive, and then with an almighty surge of strength he threw
all of the objects up and away from him. They were all heading for the audience, who screamed and started to back away, but there was no time. And then, just as the objects were over their heads, they vanished with a puff, and glitter sprinkled over the crowd. It took them a few moments to realize this was all part of the act and they were not about to be engulfed in flames. They looked up at Anthony, who was grinning and brushing the dust off himself. The applause came thick and fast then. Even Goose clapped.

But not everyone was smiling. The little girl who had handed over her Barbie was close to tears. Her bottom lip was wobbling. Anthony looked at her and said, ‘I owe you a doll.' He paused for effect. ‘Look in your hood.' The little girl quickly reached behind her and rooted into the hood of her coat. She gasped as she pulled out her doll. It was completely unscathed. The other people who had lent him their possessions searched their pockets and bags and found their items. The applause was even greater.

Anthony pulled out a hat from his overcoat and held it out for donations. Most of the crowd started to drift away without putting their hands in their pockets. This was usually what happened. However, a few members of the audience dropped some cash in. Anthony thanked them as they told him how amazing he was. Gradually the crowd
dispersed until Anthony was left alone with his dog and Goose.

As Anthony gathered his things together it began to snow. He threw on his coat. It was heavy and dark blue. Different to the one Goose had seen him wearing before. He pulled up the collar and whistled to his dog. They set off home. Goose, having nowhere else to go, followed …

Suddenly everything changed. Goose was disorientated. A moment ago they had been up on the promenade, and now in the blink of an eye they were making their way through a shanty town. A cardboard city. Goose could still hear the roar of the sea, but he wasn't sure from which direction the sound was coming. He was aware that there were people all around them, but he couldn't see anyone. There were small fires burning in large catering-size tin cans and the shadows moved. Even though he was invisible, he sped up to keep close to Anthony.

Anthony found a quiet corner in an alcove and he and his dog settled down for the night. Goose stopped nearby and watched as Anthony rooted through his pockets. He pulled out a small tin of dog food and opened it up. His dog tucked in, wolfing it down. Anthony took out a packet of dry-roasted peanuts and started eating.

‘You're homeless,' said Goose as the realization
dawned. Then something caught his eye: some graffiti art on a wall nearby. It was an angel with the head of a monkey. Just like Anthony had asked him and Frank about. This must be Anthony's place. Goose felt terribly sad for his friend.

Anthony finished his peanuts and the dog finished his tin. Anthony wrapped his coat around himself and closed his eyes. The dog curled up next to him.

Then a repetitive sound nearby caught Anthony's attention. He opened one eye and listened:
Clackclackclackclackclack
. After a few moments he worked out what it was: the sound of chattering teeth. Anthony looked around, following the sound to its source. He pulled back a piece of cardboard leaning up against the far wall, revealing a young guy, barely twenty years old. The guy backed up, scrambling, scared.

‘I don't want no trouble,' he said.

‘Good. Me neither,' said Anthony. The young guy was shivering violently and little wonder. It was freezing, and the jacket he had on was thin. It was maroon with yellow horizontal stripes and matching yellow trim. On the left breast pocket was a badge. The badge read: ‘My name is Anthony. How can I help?' Goose recognized it at once and frowned curiously.