The Life and Afterlife of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 1) (10 page)

He quickly pushed his way through the crowd, all making their way to the grave site, as politely as he could manage.  He lightly touched Lucy on the arm and she turned to face him. Every movement was slow as if her body was devoid of energy.  He searched her face and the pain he found there reflected in his own eyes.  He took her by the arm and gently led her away from the mob, all nattering away about what a good service it was and what lovely things the vicar had to say.  He led her down the side of the church that overlooked the ancient gravestones, the ones Mr Raven watched over.

The place had a peaceful aura and the birds sang their happy songs despite the rain.  I would often visit graveyards in a morbid bid to find peace and quiet, I guess in the end, in a stroke of irony, I got my wish. 

Russ stared at Lucy for awhile, possibly trying to analyse her mood or collect his thoughts before they came tumbling out of his mouth in broken sentences, as they often did when he was nervous.  He took in the painful, red tint to her eyes and her exhausted body language. 

"You haven't been sleeping."

Lucy stared back at him with vacant eyes.  He paused for a while and when she didn't answer, said, "I can see it, Luce."

His words went unanswered.  He tried again. "I know you're on medication, I know you're taking anti-depressants."

Lucy sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she looked up at the sky.  Russ had finally got his reaction. 

"Who told you that?" she demanded, suddenly angry at Russ's concern.

"Your mum told me when I bumped in to her at the post office... Luce, we're all concerned about you."

"What medication I take is none of your business. Russ. I'm fine... I'm handling things fine," he said, desperation causing his voice to crack.

"Stop trying to help me, Russ."

He paused for a second, his expression full of compassion. 

"You know I can't do that, Lucy." Tears were visible in his eyes and he tried in vain to take her hand. She stared back at him, dead-eyed.

"We're going to miss the burial," Lucy said as she turned away.

She walked fast towards the crowd who had now formed a sort of queue as they made their way to the burial site.  In their dark clothing they resembled a slow-moving, gloomy black stream and I was reminded of the river that was responsible for all this suffering.  Russ stood frozen to the spot for a moment, then he put his outstretched hand into his jacket pocket, wiped his eyes with the other, took a deep breath and followed Lucy to the graveside.

She was struggling, I could see that just as clearly as I could see that Russ was still in love with her, but I knew she was strong.  Her behaviour towards him, though harsh, was due to her stubborn refusal to receive help. She hated any form of attention, especially pity, and I knew she didn't act this way out of hatred for Russ. Fortunately so did he. 

I knew Lucy well enough to understand she could only be helped if she first asked for help. Her way of coping involved being alone so that she could deal with things in her own time.  Many people found this hard to understand and would instinctively attempt to comfort her.  Lucy’s innocent child like appearance tended to provoke this behaviour in others and they were often offended when their help was rejected. 

Lucy was a very private person who loathed the thought of being seen as a victim.  It had often surprised me how different we were in that respect.  I am very emotional,  a romantic at heart and extremely sentimental.   She is more level-headed, emotionally stable, and can sometimes come across as cold and unfeeling, though it would horrify her to learn this. 

I turned my attention back to the mourners, keen to find out who had the heart to come and say a last farewell to me.  Mr Raven was there, the old coffin-dodger who had caused me to end up in the direction of the river that night though he remained completely oblivious to that fact.  I never would’ve thought the old man would outlive me.

My paternal grandma and granddad were there, looking very sorrowful and stealing constant sideways glances at my parents who were leaning against each other for support.  I wanted to shout down to them that I was OK and that I had made it to the other side, I wanted to hold them and not let go.  The fact that I couldn’t do this caused me great distress and it wasn’t long before I had tears in my own eyes.  They were saying their goodbyes to me but it would be a while before I said mine to them

Many of the older members of the village had made an effort to pay their respects, despite the terrible storm clouds brewing above them and I was eternally grateful to them. I saw faces I had barely spoken to in my short life and I couldn’t help but regret not making more of an effort to get to know them better.

Tears rolled uncontrollably down my cheeks as my coffin was lowered into a black hole in the ground, it looked cold and uninviting and I had to look away when the coffin containing my body hit the puddle that had developed in the earth.

There was no headstone and that troubled me.  It felt as though my identity had been taken away and I worried that my family would have difficulty finding my resting place again.  I did not want to be left alone, and the thought of my remains being abandoned in the ground to rot made me feel as though I had already been forgotten.

No words were spoken as the congregation watched the upsetting scene unfold in silence.  Handfuls of dirt were thrown on the surface of the smooth varnished wood of the coffin.  A queue formed and handfuls of dirt were sprinkled one after the other. The sound of earth hitting wood was deafening.  Lucy appeared next but instead of dirt she held in her hand a peony, it had the biggest flower I had ever come across and it exuded something I would never have again.  Life.

“I love you,” she whispered, so quietly that I knew only I had heard her.

People started to filter out of the area and make their slow, heavy-hearted departure down the hill and to the pub where my wake was being held.  I wished my wake to be filled with laughter and memories, perhaps with stories about me as a young lad.  No tears, no sorrow, just appreciation for the life I had, the gift I was given. 

I watched as the crowd parted and two figures were left silhouetted against the ever- darkening sky.  They were both silent and motionless, their heads bent towards the hole in the ground as though they wanted to jump in after me.  The thought was a sombre one and left me riddled with torment.

The sky lit up for half a second in a flash of blinding, dazzling light which was followed by a loud crack of thunder that rumbled through the graveyard.  The downpour that had temporarily ceased during the burial now pelted down from the heavy black clouds.

My eyes were fixed on the two figures still frozen into place. Neither of them was distracted by the storm raging around them, not once did they peel their eyes away from the burial plot.  I watched as Russ silently pressed the release button on a black umbrella and held it over Lucy's head, sheltering her from the rain. A wordless symbol of the care he would always show her.

Lucy visibly crumpled then. Whether it was due to Russ's random act of kindness or the fact that she finally felt alone and able to mourn, I was not certain.  Her tears mingled with the raindrops. I could not hear her sobbing over the thunder and rain, but I could see her shoulders shake from the force of her grief.

My intrusion persevered long enough to see him fold Lucy in his arms while tears of his own ran silently down his face.  The image was hard for me to watch and lingered in my mind for longer than was healthy.  My own heart was slowly breaking.

I turned away from them and the heavenly surroundings of my new world became visible once more.  My heart had experienced enough pain to fill the eternity that I was currently living.  I missed my two friends more than anything else on Earth, more than the familiar Burnsall landscape, more than my mum's tiramisu, more than driving around the windy country lanes of North Yorkshire in my gas-guzzler of a car feeling as free as Archimedes himself.             

I looked forward to being in the safety of my own home as I walked the increasingly familiar route back to my hideout, though with my daily, small visitors it was not much of a hideout anymore.  The day was grey and clouds blocked the sun in the sky making everything seem to lack lustre and the atmosphere matched my mood.  I decided that I didn't want the weather to reflect my gloomy outlook, I wanted it to change my mood.  I closed my eyes and focused on bright sunshine and birdsong, the smell of cut grass and the sweet scent of wild flowers.  Suddenly, I began to feel heat on my face and arms and I heard a song thrush sing a merry tune and the strong scent of jasmine filled the air.  I opened my eyes and I had transformed the day to one that could easily have been in the midst of a heat wave.

After a while I decided to rest in the meadow, which was quiet and completely free from any friendly faces that made up the human population here.  I sat down among the long, thread-like grasses and the splatterings of colourful wildflowers as well as the biggest butterflies I have ever seen.  The place had the colour and vivacity of a Monet painting, all designed to add to the calm and tranquil atmosphere that was everywhere in Heaven.

I let the information I had just acquired swirl around in my tortured mind.  My main concern was Lucy and it upset me to learn that she was on medication to ease her apparent depression.  I knew that it was not in Lucy's nature to rely on mood-altering medication, perhaps it was in her past but these days she was the pick yourself up and move on sort.    

This had always been a part of her personality that I marvelled at and admired. She had her ups and downs like most people, but had always overcome anything thrown at her.  I admitted to myself that I was worried about her regressing, changing into the person she used to be in her dark past, a past she was ashamed of. 

My worry was lessened slightly by Russ's presence. He had always been protective towards Lucy and I knew he had her best interests at heart.  Mixed in with my relief was also a sharp sting of jealousy that made my juxtaposed emotions hard to assess.  I didn't like Russ spending time with Lucy as I hated the thought that I had been replaced, but I was also glad that she had a childhood friend who knew what she was going through to lean on for support.  I tried to push the picture of the two of them together out of my thoughts, I'd had enough drama for one afternoon.

Russ was also a cause for my concern. Outside he looked tough but inside he was soft like marshmallow.  I often called him my marshmallow man and I could almost hear him laugh just thinking about it.  I knew Russ like I knew every twist and turn of the country lanes that led up the village I grew up in and I knew that he was wearing his brave face for Lucy's sake.  I was concerned that with her leaning on him for support, he had nobody to turn to.  Our trio had been reduced to two and I had just seen the initial aftermath.  Was more to come?  No matter how painful it was to watch I still couldn't tear myself away from their world. 

I decided I had had enough reflection and commenced my journey back to my beloved forest.  As I approached the centre where my treehouse stood I was ambushed by a small group of children, all of whom I recognised from our hours of play together.  They ran towards me, and I realised they wore panic-stricken expressions. It made my stomach knot.  Their faces were usually full of joy and excitement, never fear or distress.

I searched their faces, asking repeatedly what was wrong, how could there be any danger in Heaven?  They all started to talk at once and I couldn't make out what they were trying to tell me.  I strained to hear over the raucous noise of their voices, all talking over each other to get my attention.  One word was said repeatedly.  The word was 'Timmy'.

Chapter Ten

I set off at a sprint, angrily forcing my way past springy branches that whipped at my face and body but caused no pain.  I was usually thankful for these pliable bits of wood as they brought so much joy to the children.  Lately I had spent my time making bow and arrows out of them in an attempt to fuel their imaginations.     

However, today they were a nuisance.  Today they stood in the way of the safety of an innocent child who had stolen my heart.  I could make out from the children's ramblings that Timmy was at the look-out point and somehow had found himself stranded without any way of getting down again. 

I looked down at my feet.
Faster... more speed
, I told them.  The ground was a blur beneath me with the odd colourful flash of a butterfly or bird brightening up the forest floor.  I did my best to avoid the odd large stone but often had to steady myself.  The children ran with me, as concerned as I was.

Timmy was an exceptionally vulnerable child and I felt an innate need to protect him, just as I had done towards Russ in the days following our first meeting.  This child provoked feelings in me that encompassed a huge spectrum of emotion from elation to extreme worry.  At this moment in time I needed to become his shield, his hero.  I wondered to myself, as I felt my energy levels draining and my pace slowing, whether this was what it felt like to be a parent.

By the time I reached the lookout point I felt as though I was moving in slow motion and fear washed through me.  This was soon pushed aside and relief became the dominant emotion. I had spotted Timmy. 

His face was bloated and red from crying.  I looked around, searching for the ladder that was usually nailed to the tree trunk allowing access.  It was no longer there. 

I searched the trunk thoroughly for any signs of easy access to the top of the tree, and came up with nothing.  I backed away from the trunk until I could see Timmy and he could see me.  I waved to get his attention but the child was so distressed and consumed by fear that it took him a while to acknowledge me. I yelled as loud as I could that everything was going to be OK and that I would get him down somehow.

The rest of the children, having caught up with me, were now muttering about how frightened Timmy looked and that he seemed scared of most things.  One boy behind me stated confidently that it was all down to Timmy's past life, his life on Earth.  No matter how worrying this statement was, I had no time to dwell on it.

I had to find a way to get him down. I looked up again at the look-out point and estimated it as being around fifty feet high.  My mind became hazy as I tried to find a solution to the problem.

Timmy looked down at me then and whimpered. He was holding on to the railings that surrounded the look-out post so tightly that I imagined his knuckles turning white.  He was such a quiet child yet had seemed relaxed enough in my presence. I hated to see him so distraught. 

A voice from behind broke into my thoughts.

“I can help you if you like?”

The voice was young, male, and came from behind me.  I turned around to see a teenage boy dressed in jeans and a red t-shirt with the logo ‘I’m immortal, I’m bored, let’s party’. I would have smirked if I hadn’t been so panicked.

“You could fly up there if you wanted to, this world has no boundaries.”

I looked closely at the teenager’s face and realised I’d seen him before.  He was tall, with blue eyes and brown hair that had an unruly wave running through it.  I tried hard to think where I’d last seen him. His features and demeanour were familiar to me but I couldn’t place where I’d seen him.

“Tell me what I need to do,” I said.

“You need to remember that you don’t have a body anymore.  You are just a soul now but a soul that can do so much more than the flesh and blood of your past life ever could.  You need to train yourself into believing that you have no physical boundaries.”

“How do I do that?”

“You need to fully let go of your old life and accept that you are dead.”

“I don’t know how.”

He pointed to a nearby tree.

“This tree isn’t real, or at least not as you remember trees.  It’s not solid and it isn’t made of wood.  It doesn’t have roots, it’s just an image that you are interpreting to be something you once knew, something familiar to you.  Really it’s nothing but a hologram.  I’ll show you.” 

He walked towards the tree slowly but with a confident air.  His eyes squinted into hard slits as he focused all his energy on the brown, uneven bark of the tree.  His steady pace never slowed and I watched with curiosity as he passed through the trunk with ease, as if his body was as light and transparent as air.

I looked up at Timmy who had calmed a little though silent tears continued to roll down his cheeks.  The sight of him so distraught caused me to panic slightly, I needed to get to him quickly and time seemed to be running out. 

“Your turn.”  The strangers voice claimed my attention.

I stood in position ten metres away from the tree and walked steadily towards it.  I focused hard and imagined it as a flickering image in a computer game.  I imagined myself passing through it just as the stranger had done. 

I increased my speed and I could make out the swirling indentations of the bark as I got closer.  I could smell the earthy, forest scent as I neared the trunk.  At around a foot away from the tree I started to have doubts.  It looked so lifelike and all my senses were telling me that I was going to make contact with the tree and that my whole body was about to explode in pain. 

My right knee hit the trunk of the tree and I kicked it in frustration causing a layer of bark to crumble to the forest floor.

“Damn it,” I cursed.

“It’s all in your head, Charlie.  You expect it to be solid and so it appears that way to you.  Trust me, it’s only an illusion.  You need to train your mind.”

“I don’t know how?” I said, annoyed with myself for failing.

“Try to forget your old life.  Accept your new one.”

I sighed.  We were going round in circles.  I got back into position and attempted to pass through the tree once more.  I was even more determined now.  I walked towards it as though it were my enemy.  Anger seeped out of me and my jaw clenched in pure contempt for the mundane object in front of me.  I had to do it, for Timmy’s sake.  I could hear him whimpering and knew that he must be terrified.  I was his protector, the one he went to when he needed to feel safe, and I felt guilty for not preventing this situation.

I grunted as I charged the tree full force and imagined myself on the other side.  Instead I found myself on my back on the forest floor in a daze.  I saw the tree trunk looming above me.  I had failed for the second time.

“How do you forget a world that holds so much that you care about within it?  How do you forget the people who raised you, who loved you?  How do you forget the only person who made you feel alive?”

“It’s easy when this is all you’ve ever known,” the stranger replied sadly.

I was about to ask him how that was possible when a shrill shriek sliced through the air and caused us both to look up in Timmy’s direction.  He was flailing his arms around as though he was being attacked by something.  He ran the length of the lookout point still screaming in terror.

“Bees,” the stranger explained, “They won’t hurt him, they’re just trying to scare him away from the hive.”

I began to worry that he would tumble over the edge. Even though I knew no harm would come to him in Heaven, the thought still had my heart racing.  Timmy was precious to me.  I felt differently about him than I did about the rest of the children.  In a way he had chosen me to trust, had selected me as his guardian, and this was the greatest blessing I had received since my arrival in this foreign world.  It occurred to me then that I had to save Timmy the old-fashioned way.

I scanned the area again and came to the disheartening conclusion that my only hope of getting him down was to do things the human way and I hadn't been one of those for a fair few days now.     

While I was alive I was very active and had many hobbies, one of which was climbing.  I loved the challenge and freedom of indoor wall as well as outdoor rock climbing.  I could see myself progressing and would have an inward mini- celebration whenever I was able to reach a particularly difficult hold. 

Russ and I would visit our local leisure centre frequently. It contained a climbing wall that stretched forty feet from floor to ceiling and had colourful hand and foot holds that stood out against the grey surface.

I enjoyed the workout that a climb would give my body and before long had felt strong enough to climb in the great outdoors.  Many a sunny day Russ and I tackled the climbs of Almscliffe Crag near Harrogate, our reward being the spectacular view from the top.  Climbing changed my body. It became more muscular and defined.  Suspiciously, Lucy had always deeply approved of this hobby.

I looked at the wide, sturdy tree trunk that was the obstacle in the same way as I’d looked at a rock face, I was working out a route in my mind.  I was beginning to believe I could climb it, seeing various knots and depressions that would work as holds provided they held my weight well enough. Even though I knew no harm would come to me if I fell, the sheer height of the tree was enough to make me feel dizzy.

I shouted a warning to Timmy that I was climbing up.  One look at him told me that he couldn't even hear me anymore for the fear that was gripping him.  I took my shoes off in the hope that my bare feet would give me a better grip on the rough bark.  A low knot in the trunk started me off and I found a small hollow hole bored into the trunk, possibly by a woodpecker, that acted as a handhold.  The next few holds were easy to spot and climb as they were pretty much directly above me in a straight line.  I got to around half way up the trunk when I ran out of options.

I looked to left and right around the trunk of the tree and spotted a branch that was off to the side of where I was currently stranded but a fair distance away.  If I were to have any chance of gripping it, I would have to leap from my current position.  An image of Timmy’s frightened face, red from crying, entered my mind then.  I didn't have a choice.  I would have to jump.  Suddenly, the term 'leap of faith' took on new meaning.

With a deep breath I jumped from where I was perching and relied on the power of my thighs to take me the distance.  My arms were outstretched and my fingers ached for the rough touch of wood beneath them.  The skin of my palms came into contact with the branch and my fingers instantly curled around it.

I looked around for my next hold and saw a possible route in the form of short, broken branches that curved around the trunk but would get me far enough to reach the longer top branches that made up the crown of the tree.  Stump to stump I climbed until I was shrouded in leaves. 

Nearly there
.

I stopped to rest for a while and rubbed my aching biceps.  I looked up to where I thought Timmy was waiting.  Due to the heavy foliage he was now hidden from sight.

“I’m coming, Timmy,” I shouted, hoping to bring him some comfort.  I would only allow myself to relax when I reached him.

The hardest part was over.  Now it was just a case of climbing from branch to branch.  I accomplished this task with ease after my well-earned rest.  My last challenge was to jump over the wooden railing that surrounded the look-out.

I could make out the blue of Timmy’s t-shirt.

“Nearly there, Timmy, don’t worry.”

I heard him whimper as he came into view through the leaves and branches.  Timmy eased his grip on the railing in order to move closer to me.  The way he looked at me caused tears to spring into my own eyes. There was such desperation and hope in his expression. His fingers grasped my forearms and the contrast in size made me swallow a lump in my throat. He looked so small and vulnerable.

Reluctantly I asked him to back away while I jumped over the railing.  It was hard to convince him that I wasn’t going to leave without him and I wondered why he thought that I would.  I willed my tired legs to jump over the railing, just one more obstacle.

Once my feet had touched the solid wood floor of the lookout Timmy clung to me as tightly as his frail body could manage.  The ground looked further away from here and I could only imagine what being stranded so high up felt like to a small child. 

Eventually, Timmy’s sobs subsided and he calmed down enough to loosen his tight grip on me.  I told him to trust me and that I needed to get him down to ground level.  He said he had come to the lookout to find me. He had looked everywhere else, and I was nowhere, and then he couldn't get down.  I promised to let him know where I was at all times from now on. I lifted him on to my back, telling him to hang on with all his might.  He told me there was no problem, he was as strong as Batman, and I replied with a hearty laugh.

The journey down took longer than my solo journey up and there were a few tricky parts to manoeuvre. Finally our feet touched the forest floor, and I let out a sigh of relief.

I scanned the forest for the stranger who had tried to help me but he was nowhere to be seen.  Now that my mind was free from worry I remembered why he had looked so familiar. He had said hello to Gran.  Then later I’d seen him again, walking up Gran and Gramps’s driveway before changing his mind and turning back.  This person knew me, I was certain of that.  But how? I pushed the thought to the back of my mind.