Indea- The Gazebo (working title).

[∆§Indea§∆]

A 15 year old boy believes that his toe is being haunted by an eccentric old ghost of a man who committed suicide 50 years ago. His next door neighbours are an elderly couple who are trying to destroy what they believe is a gateway to an alternate universe, a gazebo in a nearby park.

[∆§Indea§∆]

I

The gazebo didn't stand in any particularly important place in the park. It was old and had been painted over several times, chipped sections showed the array of colours it had once been. Currently it was a quite boring and uninspiring forest green, the kind used for school uniforms to remind kids of their place. Youths had taken to adding a few of their own bits of colour with tags and numbers of unfortunate friends. The council would come and paint over it but it didn't last long before it was right back where it was earlier. It was a large octagonal shape with seating around the edges, during summertime it was home to a few homeless people who used the benches for beds. During the day hipsters would use it for picnics, revelling in it's unique lack of character. Teenagers would use it as a haunt and place to glare at passing adults. During the colder months it would collect dry leaves and rubbish, occasionally shelter from rain those who'd forgotten umbrellas.

It was autumn, the day Marion saw what couldn't be, in fact she had dismissed it almost straight away.The trees were lit up with wild oranges, yellows and greens, the ground covered in the beginnings of a crunchy leaf carpet. The day was bright with a cool wind bitting at the heels. The park was near empty of people, just the stalwart few taking their dogs for walks or making small shortcuts to work. Marion had decided to take her small furry friend for a walk after much convincing on his part. Clarissa always told her not to let him bully her but it was hard to say no to that doggy face. She had just stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts and there it was. It was long enough to play on her mind but short enough to be her imagination. The eyes had stared so sharply into her own and she had the distinct feeling that she shouldn't have looked which was ridiculous. It was a gazebo, public property. Anyone could look, even an old forgotten woman like herself. The look still haunted her even as she stared questioningly into the empty space. The only movement, leaves ratting against the low wind. She struggled to remember it's other distinct features, the long pointed beak, the feathers and the very human shape. Her revery was interrupted by a short tugging on the leash. Henry looked sadly up at her with his big brown watery eyes. Seeing he had her attention again, he pushed on with their walk and Marion pushed aside the moment of fancy.


Adrian trudged home, watching as his runner's laces became dirtier and filthier as he carelessly stepped into every available puddle. The sheer white still shining proudly from the top of his shoe.The sun splintered down at war with the wind, bouncing off the concrete path and shining in his eyes. His hair was plastered to his head, damp with sweat. He was sure that by now his curly hair had frizzed into an unnatural afro. His school uniform was rumpled, stain and even frayed at some of the edges. It had originally been blue but over use and lack of care had turned it into more of a light grey. The shoes were new and still felt tight against his feet. He had wanted to leave them home, his mother had given them to him in the hope it would somehow make him more athletic by association. No such luck. All it meant was he couldn't get out of PE for a couple of weeks, his mother watched him like a hawk ensuring those shoes made it into his school bag. He'd have to get more creative. It wasn't so much the activity that Adrian hated but the competitiveness it inspired. It was a chance for his dicky classmates to shine like shitty little diamonds. He'd always fall short, get sympathetic glances from some and looks of disappointment from his gym teacher. The one kind of teacher who didn't have to pretend to give everyone a fair shot. The man in question barely looked like he was that athletic himself, although he had the clear look of somebody that had once been.

There had been times even when a ball had hit extra hard or a tackle would hit him full throttle and the teacher would go on as if it was perfectly normal. Adrian was sure the teacher thought it was some kind of life lesson he needed to learn, to toughen up or something. All it really did was make Adrian want to avoid physical activity at all costs. He really didn't care for it but it still hurt to be picked last all the time. He just wished people didn't see sport as so important, what happened to the good old days when it was all about the artists and intellectuals? If only Adrian was even one of those, instead he was highly unremarkable. One of those kids the teachers always forgot about. He wasn't even the funny one.

His shoes had become so waterlogged they began making sloshing noises, it was amusing for the first few minutes before his feet became clammy. Kinda itchy too, perhaps this hadn't been as well thought out as he'd first thought. Too late now, quite a few puddles too late.

He gave Ms. Stephens a dutiful smile as he passed her outside the park, walking the grey scruff of fur she called a dog. Ms Stephens was his neighbour, to Adrian she appeared to be ancient but in truth was only just into her sixties. She wore black artsy clothes and overly complicated earrings, she kind of reminded Adrian of a beatnik. Was that the right generation or was it a flapper? She lived with her girlfriend but his mum always got funny when it was mentioned. She mostly acted like they were just old house mates but Adrian had seen them kiss once. He'd tried to forget it, who wanted to imagine old people kissing? Her dog was a small little terrier who thought pretty highly of itself despite it's unkept state. It wagged it's tail at him in greeting. Ms. Stephens gave him a funny little smile, she seemed distracted. Adrian took this as an opportunity to scoot by with little conversation and honestly she seemed relieved.

He reached the bare cobble stones of his house and let himself in, sighing in relief as it's emptiness greeted him with silence.The house was a cold old building with a long history. It had a small little metal plate outside proclaiming it as part of a national trust. When his mother and father had brought it, it had been a wreck nobody else had wanted to touch. Now it was liveable and modern but there were still rooms that gave Adrian the creeps. Luckily the kitchen was not one of them, and he made a beeline for it's treasures.It was a wide room with black and white tiling and a hard stone bench in the middle. One of those ones you didn't need to put tea towels on before you put pots on, which was lucky because Adrian always forgot. His mother had the concrete wall painted a deep red, before it had reminded Adrian of a morgue. It was a funny notion, knowing what something looked like without having ever seen it for yourself. All he had to go by was what TV told him it did, perhaps a real morgue was completely different. How would he know having never stepped inside? Honestly he wasn't in a great rush either.

Time to just relax, dipped into the cupboard and eat things he wasn't meant to.He enjoyed the solitude because it gave himself the space to just be him without any responsibility or expectation from others. You could fart, pick your nose without care or unpick a wedgie, embarrassment free. Social constraints loose and wobbly. Of course there were things you shouldn't do even alone but then you couldn't murder someone alone, that was a two person requiring task at least.

Adrian made himself 2 minute noodles and a large glass of strawberry milk before settling into his favourite chair to watch cartoons. It was growing dark by the time his mum returned home and all evidence of his afternoon tea had been surreptitiously disposed of. He heard two large thumps as his runners dropped from his mother's hands.Adrian heard in them the return of responsibility and definitely a case for wanton negligence, his mother should have been a lawyer. Her face leered over him with a slight frown. Her hair was done up in a smart ponytail and her face was made up in it's usual no nonsense style. She smelt strongly of perfume, the smell invading his nose and making him gag slightly.It was sweet and floral and reminded him of the deodorant girls wore at school.

“Really? You couldn't keep them clean for a whole day? It's not that muddy outside.” She looked sternly down, towering over his chair.

“We errr played football and... the grass was wet...”

“Uh huh, sure you can tell that to your dad later. He'll be thrilled to hear you getting so into your sports. Want to give them a clean off?”

“Do I have to, they'll just get dirty again. That's what runners do. The crafty sods.”

“At least clean the soles, I don't want marks on the carpet and I think your mouth just landed you in dishes duty tonight, buster. What did Mr. Carmichael say, today?”

“I dunno.. I don't think he noticed. Oh, he did grunt slightly higher than normal, I think that's a gym teacher seal of approval.”

“If only your feet ran as well as your mouth.”

“You're telling me!”

“Well, I think they looked very smart, until you drenched them in mud. Now they just look like the rest of your uniform. Seriously, do the other kids dress like this?

“Totally mum, I'm a fashion icon there. I'm kidding, nobody cares... serious.”

“Alright, well off you pop. Go clean these off toot sweet."

Adrian grumped his way through the evening and put up with a loud telling off from his dad about responsibilities blah blah, cliché, cliché. It was't like his shoes were a living being, he hadn't killed his guinea pig yet. That had to account for something, right? He got through the night relatively well and scampered into the shelter of his room when he got the chance. Greeting his furry friend with well deserved pellets, he then flumped onto his bed and went online to whittle away the hours left. Googling weird images, LOLcats and strange facts that would lend him no use in the real world.

It was half past 12 when he finally went to sleep, it was 3:44 am when he noticed the first strange feeling in his left toe, like he'd left his mobile phone directly under it. It seemed to vibrate of it's own accord waking him slightly from the depth of sleep.



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******

Marion walked home still fixated on those eyes, allowing Henry and cognitive memory to take her home. It seemed bare moments before she found herself sitting in her comfy chair with a worried little dog peering from her lap. The lounge was filled with odd assortments of furniture collected over the years. Her favourite chair was a crimson vintage piece that her mother had handed down to her several years ago. There were several African pieces from Clarissa's parents. It was a hodgepodge but it worked. Sure, bits and pieces were worn and her chair had little holes but it was all well loved. She heard the familiar clunk of shoes as Clarissa made her way in from the garden smelling of earth.Traces of dirt on her turned up nose and mostly likely through her curly grey streaked brown hair. She shook her head trying to break free of the funk she was in. She smiled warmly up at her partner trying not to show her anxiety and failing. They had been together far too long for that. Clarissa well worn and well loved face crinkled with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, just had a weird moment in the park. I think I might be losing my mind...”

“You, lose your mind? Not before before me, missy! What happened?”

“If I tell you will you promise not to judge me?”

“I couldn't judge that face for anything.”

“I'm serious!”

“So Am I, tell me anyway.” She smiled warmly down at Marion.

Marion went over that moment in the park, sharing every detail with a touch of self doubt. Her fingers gentle raking through Henry's matted fur with an occasional yelp. Clarissa sat across from her, eyebrows knitting together then breaking apart with a small smile. Soon they were laughing it off and leaning over the oven together cooking their evening meal. Marion let the familiar comfort of routine wipe it from her mind and by the time she was ready for bed, it had been forgotten. Well, as much as it could be anyway.


******

The park was near empty, people skittered around the edges avoiding the dark shadows etched within. A popular short cut by day but by night it was a sinister domain where passers-by imagined drug dealers and rapists growing up in the shadows like toadstools. The animals within had no such misconstrued fears, the park was alive with animals. Small mammals scampered about taking the bits of pieces left by careless human for nests and food. Slightly larger felines hunted in the dark forage for the more careless mammals. The gazebo stood bathed in caramel light from a nearby streetlamp. Small insects swam in and out keeping close to it's warmth and occasionally death dropping when they got too close. Dark beetles scurried in and out of the leaves in the gazebo devouring small morsels, enjoying the damp air.


******


Marion stood in the park that was not the park. It felt more like she was floating in a world of fog and gas. Strangely coloured animals flitted in and out of bushes, peoples pushed by in indistinct droves of colour.At least in her mind told her they were people, they were people shapes. She thought she saw coats, dresses and scarfs. For all she knew they were tails, fur or scales. She felt lightheaded, she knew it was a dream but it felt more real than any dream she'd ever had. Gravity had no hold here and she felt herself move in and out one part of the park to another. A strange hard feeling sat at the bottom of her dream stomach, the frothy air felt stiff and constricting. She almost felt like she was suffocating as if the was any air to breath. It was hard to pick one detail without it been drowned out by a sudden spark of movement from another. She knew it was a dream but she hadn't dreamt in a long time.A large blob of blue stood directly in front of her, a nose or something like it reached out, touching the bare edges of her form. It felt like an odd little bubble in her subconscious tingling. She had to remind herself that she wasn't really there.It was just her subconscious having a field day of some sort. She just wasn't one of those people, hers had always been so dull before. Then she found her anchor, the one form not messing with her senses. It was just as she remembered it to be and more. The one solid object in the ebbing flurry was a forest green gazebo with it's familiar chippings.

She found her self sitting on it's familiar bench and the movement stopped.dark A quiet errupted in the little world and all sorts of shapes and colours made a shimmering wall around the gazebo. Sheer emptiness filled her mind but she felt she was not alone. Soft feathers caressed her cheek and she felt a cold hand touch gently on her arm. Deep, shocked eyes stared dangerously into her own. Grey feathers cling to pink skin.Thin red lips and a hooked nose under the beak. Feathers clung in different degrees, like he was moulting from his very human form. His extreme expression reminded her of a mime, she almost smiled. The grip on her arm tightened...


******

Adrian felt the sensation once more, now it felt more like it was sitting on the drying machine. His eyes fluttered opened and he turned his lamp on with a well rehearsed hand slap. His sheets were dishevelled but that was pretty normal for him. He grinned slightly to himself, it reminded him of those dreams you have where you feel like your falling down only to wake up with a strange start. He brushed it off as some kind of weird dream thing, maybe it could get him out of PE tomorrow?
'Sir, my toe's vibrating, I can't play T-ball it'll put me off my A game.' Yeah, it would totally work. No worries. Mr. Carmichael would probably just grunt and put him on the bench, like normal.


He swung his feet down to the cold wooden floor only to get an intense feeling of pins and needles. In his left big toe, it hurt like hell. He padded down the hallways and fixed himself a warm glass of milk, eating the skin with a small flourish. He wiped his milk moustache with the back of his arm.
He placed the glass carefully into the dishwasher and padded backdown the hall. His toe still felt kind of weird but he persevered. He googled numb big toe and was delighted with the results. IE, Ill fitting footwear, it was too bloody perfect. Either that or he had gout like some kind of 5th century pirate or something. Could you even get gout at his age? A sudden groan from his parents room sent him hopping back into bed like a flash. His heart beating hard in his chest, he mentally slapped himself, this was why he got picked last. Rick Smith wouldn't freak out over a sound, he lacked the intelligence for that kind of emotion. Sometimes Adrian wondered how he had the brain power to even breath. He was pretty sure Rick thought Napoleon was just a type of ice cream.

His big toe left him alone for the rest of the night and by morning he was faced with the disappointment of normality. Light streaked into the room, shining down on his new runners. So were the first thing he saw when he woke up. Clearly it was a sign from the gods that his shoes were the devil. He gave it a couple of pinches in the hopes of hitting a nerve. He could have sworn the toe waggled at him in amusement, his subconsciousness must have a sick sense of humour.He studied the toe for signs of abnormality, a bite or maybe fish scales but all it had was tinea. He wrapped the disobedient feet in smelly socks and his black school shoes, glaring disdainfully at his still moist runners. He shoved them deep into the crevasses of his school bag along with the obnoxiously odorous forgotten school lunches, it was a jungle in there.

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Marion looked deep into those haunting eyes still telling her not to look. The iris was a pale yellow surrounded b deep crimson. The pupil seem to dart in and out like a pulse. Thick curling eyelashes were mingled with feathers. She had the oddest feeling that he was not only looking at her but through her too. Past her pale wrinkled skin, short white hair and deep brown eyes to her very centre, to pure Marion. It didn't say a word but those eyes told her so much, it's cruel beak and soft grey feathers. Then the dream stretched and faded passing into funny little dreams about lost socks and paths that never ended. She woke up to soft sheets and Clarissa's arms around her in a hazy funk. Pale light drifted through the room lifting dust particles in it's wake. Her eyes shifted to a old photo framed in silver, paired smiles in black and white. Memories of youth drifted through her mind. Hazy summers, wine, laughter and tears all faded slightly with the years.

Henry yap and huffed at an awake friend and gave her an expressive look with a decisive bark. Time to wake up, get things done, least she become like all those other old women with houses full of romance novels and the stench of lavender. Her body wasn't always so cooperative but she thought she did pretty well. She dressed in simple black, a dash of makeup and her favourite beaded earrings.

During their morning walk she found herself taking a different path, straying from the park. She took strange detours leading through back allies and unfamiliar streets like a labyrinth, always twisting and turning away from the park. Henry had tried to right her more than a few times and whined at the strange smells of unknown canines. The shadows along the streets seemed darker and more foreboding, it was silly though, she hadn't gone that far off the track. It wasn't like her street was the sunniest either. Every time she thought about it, a sick feeling would creep inside her and her arm would itch. She had to convince Clarissa that this was something more than a second's trick of the eye and a funny dream. Flashes of the dream kept interrupting her thoughts, pressing in from her subconcious. Movement and colours kept getting caught in the corner of her eye. Was it just a trick of the eye? Why was it all disturbing her so much? Honestly, she had to convince herself as well. Was her mind falling through shallow cracks between reality? What was her subconscious trying to tell her? Perhaps if she worked it out, it would stop haunting her mind.

Marion bustled through her day, saw her clients and then faced the dreaded appointment with her supervisor. She had this whole idea about faking a new client who saw those things and had that dream, but she had chosen this supervisor for a reason and this man cut through shit like butter. Perhaps she could tell me him just about the dream itself, there was nothing as strange about that.

She entered his office, which was painted in a pale white. Everything in it was placed to create a space that said I'm paid a lot of money to listen to your problems so don't waste my time. Ambiguous images of shapes and bodies were neatly placed on walls. Soft cream carpet and two comfy chairs, his quite obviously more ornate and expensive. An technical no-no but Mr. Peter Sands obviously couldn't resist the power of it. Luckily for him, he was good at what he did and behind the wanker there was a sharp analytical mind. She still thought he was possibly either a narcissist or a Hannibal Lecter type antisocial personality. She kept that to herself. He was a tall man almost to the point of imposing, everything about him was pale. Pale white blonde hair sprung sparsley from his head with a complementary pale blond moustache straight from the 1920's. His pale blue eyes that almost seemed to bulge from his head. His suits always seemed to be cut from some shade of beige. He was the proverbial inoffensive whiteboard to write your problems on.

She sat purposefully in her chair and began the session with the usual diatribe and complaints about certain clients, their odd habits and amusing foibles. Completely professionally of course. Mrs. A who was driving her husband away with her obsessive delusion that he was cheating, Mr. C and his uncanny knack for for hoarding useless nicknacks and now he was beginning to try to gift them to her. Thankfully she had ethics to hide behind as an excuse to refuse them. Ms. T who travelled over two hours to see her because she couldn't stand too much change, the move had almost done her in itself. All them with their strange little quirks, all of them much more precious to her than she'd admit.

Then she ran out and there on the clock were still 15 minutes, minutes left to talk about herself.

“So I had a funny little dream last night...”

He motioned casually for her to continue.

“Well I was in the park near home and it was like another world. Like this one but different but the gazebo was still the same and there was this kind of bird like man with a long sharp beak, kind of like a kiwi. He looked at me like I should have been there, he looked right through me.”

He gave her an inscrutable look.

“So I err was going for my morning walk with Henry and I just couldn't bare the idea of going near the park. I'm probably being silly.”

He nodded sagely.

“I didn't tell Clarissa about the dream. I usually tell her everything. Maybe I should talk to her about it.”

His face remained it's well trained passivity. Stoney silence followed. Or thinking space, as she'd tell herself with clients.

“Well? What do you think I should do?”

“I think you know, Marion. I can't interpret your dream for you, what do you think it meant? Of course talk to your partner if you think it's right.”

As she had expected deep down inside, he wasn't going to solve her problems for her. Marion would have to work it out on her own. If you wanted to hear some tell you what to do, you could call a psychic. Paid reassurances and pats on backs. Not to mention quack but Marion always believed if it helped someone out, it was worth the costs no matter how silly. Except for Public speakers, those guys were kin only to African princes with banking issues and need for personal details.

Still, she did sometimes wonder where all the money went with every cheque she signed, was she merely seeing clients in order to afford her own psychologist? She hoped to whatever atheists were meant to hope to, that it wasn't true.


*******

Adrian arrived at school with much digression along the way. Every day it felt like visiting the dentist, any way to put off the eventual mind numbing pain was worth it. Days blended into one another and teachers told the same kids off, ignoring those who were neither loud enough to tell off or smart enough to be special. Adrian only excelled in few classes and he wasn't the best in any.

The bland beige halls were not his kingdom. He didn't belong there, it was just a sentence that he was slowly ticking off. So instead of maths he drew designs on his hands with pen, occasionally putting pen to paper when the teacher did her rounds. In science he imagined himself in far off world doing experiments on the locals. In SOSE he traded sniggering remarks with his best friend Shane over their teacher's unfortunate name and bad habit of attempting teenage lingo. The classes that Adrian loved were history, English and drama. His English teacher was a bit weird and was always giving them off the wall homework. The only time they really learnt about books and language was when she was away.

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Most other days they watched reruns of her favourite shows and no one had the heart to tell on her. Adrian now had a strong knowledge of Black Books, Monty Python and Absolutely Fabulous but no idea about the proper use of commas. Somehow though when it came to marks, they all winged it quite well. It was a symbiotic relationship.

The day droned on, one period fading into the next blending into lunchtime and finally finishing. Like horses when the gun goes off, the mad scrabble to be first out of the door began. Pencils shoved into pencil cases, homework crumpled and skewed into bags, lunchbox pushed down into biochemical hazardous bottoms. The scraping back of chairs was like a symphony mingling with he clatter of feet down the halls.Everyone pushing and shoving, sidestepping and ducking out doors. Splashes of grand teen dramas played out around the edges.

Adrian began his walk home with music blaring in his ears, drowning out the chaos with classical music. In it's melodious trance, everything seemed more balanced, everything a little bit brighter. It was his secret passion, if anyone asked him, he liked Kiss and the Rolling Stones. Which he did, as well as Beethoven, Debussy and Bach. He took the long way home, along the less travelled streets. He'd stayed out of trouble for the day, played the middle ground and stayed out the way of Steven Holmes. The guy obviously had some issues which he needed to express with violence, the guy didn't much care with who. Adrian was just far enough out of the norm to occasionally catch his attention. He wasn't the nerdiest guy or a meathead, just a little left of centre. He laughed at jokes that others missed, didn't find violence or farting particularly funny and worst of all, mostly kept to himself. People seemed to take offence to the fact he didn't need constant validation from his fellow classmates. His mother wanted him to be that guy, the one that excelled in sports and got invited to all the parties. She had hoped he'd inherit his father's athleticism and her blonde hair, some kind of aryan prince. Instead he was dark with curly hair, small, awkward and somewhat chubbier than he should be, his mother called it baby fat ( As if that actually existed). He shied away from anything that could land him in the thick of social attention. He was pretty much a failure son. He swore that she put off telling her friends about him, they always seemed a bit surprised when they first met him. Surprised that such a clean, well put together woman without a hair out of place could produce such a messy specimen. The house had a little shrine of trophies his father and mother had won in their hayday and all he had contributed was a little yellow participation ribbon lost amongst the red and blue. He looked back down at his stupid runners, where had his DNA gone wrong? Who was that distant relative he had to blame for his weirdness and lack of coordination? He strode along sparing the occasional glance to the houses lining the road.

Outside a rundown house in middle suburbia, it's wooden boards uncared for and lacklustre. Paint had been left to crackle and crumble in the sun. Windows were guarded by an inch of dust and grime and beyond that tattered curtains were closed up tight. He felt a strange hum in his foot, pins and needles crept up his left toe again causing him to hop from foot to foot. Wasn't it only supposed to happen when you sat on it for too long? He took the moment to study the house, with it's overgrown yard full of swallowed up lawn ornaments and odd collection of tyres. It wasn't the kind of place to stare at, it was the kind used in CSI or Crimewatch. The one to hurry by, eyes averted. He ignored his funky foot and hurried by, resembling a lurching mummy. Not conspicuous at all. Nope. For he was Adrian, super spy extraodinaire. Feared by many, seen by none. Soon after fleeing the dreaded house of tyres, he found his toe returned to normal. What the hell? He shook it off and continued on his merry way home. Trouble free apart from a couple of trips along the way. Damn council. He even kept those damn runners relatively clean.

******

The gazebo stood unassuming as a hipster couple mucked around taking shots of it with their phones. Funny angles, autumn leaves, graffiti, themselves, all hazed out then heavily stylised with the colour kicked out of reality. Little catches of dust throwing odd lights into their shots, creating ghostly orbs. One photo in particular had an largish orb in the corner that one could almost say looked like a eye staring out. In fact if the couple had gone filterless and bothered to truly study their shots, they may have found more. If they had brought a proper camera, perhaps they would have caught the smaller details, such the long eyelashes peeking around or a feathery eyelid. The gazebo stood solidly as soft rain brought an end to the couple's time and they ran shielding themselves from it's downpour with overpriced backpacks.

*******

Marion sat at the table daring herself to open her mouth, tell Clarissa about the dream. Every time she felt ready to talk, she would temporarily loose the power to speak. She silently berated herself, she told Clarissa everything. Right down to the embarrassing moment in 5th grade when she'd farted in front of the entire school assembly or her first awkward face mashing kiss. They had been together for over twenty years and couldn't mention a simple dream? She couldn't put her foot on what was stopping her either but it was there all the same. She closed her eyes, centring herself, tracing the soft wrinkles in her hand. In a sudden movement she slammed her hand down and stood up. She moved through their winding cottage of a home, past the corridor crammed with books and bit of pieces without homes. She found Clarissa outside, enjoying the last rays of sun. A lit cigarette against her lips and her feet dangling over the verandah's edge. Clarissa emanating utter calmness, it was one of her many charms. Marion didn't find the cigarette smoke so charming and coughed politely before sitting down. Clarissa smiled slightly before stubbing the cigarette out. She put her hand gently on Marion's own and keeping looking out into the garden.

“You kicked me last night, it bloody hurt.”

“Did I? I had a dream... It was strange.”

“What happened? Where you battling patients?”

“Clients and no. It was kind of like that funny moment I told you about in the park.”

She went into detail, the gazebo, the bird man and the odd feeling on her morning walk.

“Eh really, maybe we need to buy you a bird. Maybe that's what it's telling you?”

“It was more of a bird man, don't think they sell those in the pet stores.”

“Touche'. Seriously though, what do you think it means?”

“I don't know, perhaps nothing? It just kind of stuck with me though. You know?”

“Yeah, I had dream once that my brother ran over the cat, didn't talk to him for a week.”

Marion moved closer leaning onto Clarissa's shoulder smiling.

“Your brother's a dick.”

“That he is.”

“Poor dream cat, was it in pain?”

“Nope, just dead.”

The evening drifted off and Marion felt better for letting go of her dream. It felt better knowing Clarissa had her back. She found her self dreading sleep but she talked herself out of her ridiculous fear. This was how phobias started after all. Did she want to be the woman who has a phobia of sleeping? Not when that old case loomed in her memory, a man whose insomnia slowly killed him on film. His eyes forever open until his body couldn't take it anymore and performed the most rational action.

She fixed herself a warm cup of tea and settled in letting the pages of her book lull her to sleep.

******

[∆§Indea§∆]

II

Adrian had thought the idea had been genius on his part, all the particulars thought of, accounted for... apparently not. He stood in his backyard with it's fake grass and half-arsed attempt at a garden. His mother had put the plants in and then just expected them to do the rest. Some had survived that treatment better than others. An old yellow barbeque stood covered in all sorts of grime, his dad used it during the summer months and Adrian had to pretend to not think of all the germs it carried. It would get it's honorary wipe with a towel but that was it, his dad believed the flames killed all. Adrian just hoped so. Maybe the germs were good for him, boosted his immune system. For sure. At least it wasn't covered in the germs of a thousand barbeques like the ones in the park. He was generally fine with germs, but he'd had a funny spell in primary school where he'd insisted on washing his hands to the point of scabs. It hadn't been pretty but he was cool now. They'd even taken him to a psychologist/ Probably wouldn't hurt to wash his hands more these days but that was another issue.

Anyway, back to the plan to rid himself of a certain pair of trainers, guilt free. Well, mostly. He'd stolen/borrowed a couple of fresh sausages and burrowed them deep into the shoes. He had then placed them conspicuously outside a large hole in the fence between his house and the next.
The pooch had arrived on the scene sniffed and snuffled at the shoes before turning up his nose and returning home. Adrian waited hoping for a second appearance from the furball but there was none.

He poked his nose over the fence, climbing up to see what had happened. What had enticed the mongrel from his free meal?

“Oh..Ha.. Hi there Ms Stephens, sorry umm. Have you seen my tennis ball?”

She looked up skeptically at him from her book. She held a large technical looking book in her hands with a large gently smoking cup of tea, sitting comfortably in a deck chair.

“Hello Adrian, you play tennis?”

“Yeah..” He tried looking incredulous. “ Umm no, just chucking it around. Thought it had fallen over the fence, trying to be more sporty. You know how it is, chucking balls around..”

Adrian the super spy had struck again with that streak of verbal genius. He tried to keep a straight face. He wobbled slightly on the fence, he balancing skills were shit too.

“Okay, well you know there's more to life than throwing balls around and peeking over neighbour's fences. I haven't seen your tennis ball, sorry. Haven't you got some kind of teen responsibility, homework perhaps?”

She was totally on to him.

“Yeah, something like that. Nice talking to you Ms. Stephens.”

She sent him a droll wave.

Henry shot him a smug look from his position at her feet, Adrian quickly popped down from the fence, his face slightly red. Did she think he was some kind of weird stare bear? Probably. Man, he had like zero cool points. Plan failed.

Adrian picked up the shoes and took out the now slightly rancid sausages. What was wrong with them? He gave them a sniff before curling his nose and tossing them into the garden. A little grey streak then promptly raced in and snagged the two sausages. He'd been outwitted by a dog.

He shook his fist at the hole in the fence like an old fashioned villain. Now his shoes were just smelly and covered in sausage sweat. Karma was a cruel beast and so was Henry. He begrudgingly made his way back inside and sat down on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. He stared thoughtlessly into the roof before searching for something as mindless to do. He had studied deep the art of procrastination and there was an assignment he was meant to do after all. How had Ms Stephens known?

He began flicking through channels, surfing the television's mind-numbing waves. Images flicked in and out but he barely took notice. Soon the screen blurred out and Adrian found himself snoozing softly, a touch of dribble pooling at the side of his mouth.

A strange man stood at the foot of the couch, his eyes large and staring. They were coloured an electric blue, in fact every colour of this odd man was in a garish contrast to his background. They kind of made him look possessed, like he was in some kind of constant state of shock. Deep worry lines etched in his face though he didn't look more than 40. His hair a pale blonde frizzed out at odd angles although there'd been an obvious attempt on his part to smooth it down, it had only really made it worse. He wore a rumpled business suit, a gawky 80's blue. Small bits of tissue dotted his weak chin. He gave Adrian a wide toothy smile that seem to last far too long. His thin red lips contrasting horribly with his white teeth.
In his hand a small porcelain rabbit popped into existence, it's paint rubbed thin with time. Traces of bright yellow and green veins across it's pearly skin. It held a coy expression on it's tiny face. He traced his long fingers over it like a magician caressing the air around it's form. The movement was hypnotising and for a second the rabbit seemed to slip from gravity to hop across his fingers.The movement grew faster until the rabbit became a dizzying blur. His fingers seemed abnormally long and yet perfectly in proportion at the same time. He began a little mime, exaggerating tears and then showing what seemed to be a bird with his fingers... or what it a bat? Fear flickered on his face but was quickly replaced with that wide smile.

He poked Adrian's toe playfully and with that he disappeared like a poorly edited youtube clip.

Adrian awoke with a sharp snort and to a large pool of dribble on the couch. He was one cool dude, his mum was going to kill him. Right after she made him scrub the pillow. Yup, he was one killer dude. Who didn't like a dribbler? Better at home than in class. He switched it over to the other side. All better.

His mum arrived home as if on cue, like a homing torpedo and she went straight for those shoes, turning her nose up at the sausage laden scent.

“Boy, we have got to buy you some foot deodorant. Those shoes are rank. Good to see you're actually sweating in PE though. Finally putting some effort in.”

“Yeah, we did laps. It was madness, I came in like 30th instead of 34th. Everyone went wild. Parades, everything.”

No point stretching it too far, keeping it in the realms of reality, oh yeah. Unlike that weird arse dream, he had to get off those pop rocks. Weird arse dreams every time.

“Don't be a smart Alec, see this is why you don't have any friends.”

“I have friends, what about Kate? Or Shane? Huh, we've been best friends since kindie for pete's sake.”

“Two friends, you can practically start a riot.”

“Now who's being smart?”

“I'm allowed to, I'm your mother. Now help me fix dinner.”

******

The wind blew through the park rattling the leaves off trees and sending little birds to take cover. A magpie had taken shelter in the gazebo's roof and swooped angrily at any bird who dared to join it. It puffed it's feathers, pleased with it's own genius. It let out a large satisfied warble, which was lost on the wind.

The night drew on, windows rattling and the gazebo itself creaked slightly in the wind.It was hard to distinguish any one sound from the other. There were no small mammals out tonight and only a few felines braved the fierce winds. One such feline was an old moggy who had the unfortunate name of Moon Goddess. Her owners were full on hippies from way back but that was neither here no there. What she lacked for a name, she made up for in stealth and cunning. Her fur was a brilliant tortoiseshell with wild splashes of black and orange. She was large, thick and had no time for fooling around. Her ears showed the marks of more than a few caterwauling fights.

Moon Goddess had thought in her catty way that she'd have to fight for a meal today. Her owners were off on a bender and had forgotten to lay out food three nights in a row. Instead she found a magpie lying dead and still on the ground, it's eyes wide and beak open in a silent call. Moon Goddess didn't wast any time she darted in with flashing eyes and snatched the prize quickly from the gazebo. She hissed loudly and her fur stood heavy. It was still warm and she dragged it purring into a small bush to devour the poor bird. It was a good night for some. Not so good for others.

The gazebo stood unassuming in it's small patch of the park and wind blew leaves dancing on it's floor.


******


Clarissa sat in her lounge reading through a book she'd borrowed from the library, she soft sighing noises as she sifted quickly through it's pages. There was nothing on bird men but plenty on birds. It was all new age garbage though and she'd been happy to walk away from that part of her life years ago. It had just been a phase and an embarrassing one at that. She had still kept a few tokens but they meant very little to her now. She tried googling but it had only come up on one page with little to no answers. If the roles were reversed Marion would be looking up Freud but Clarissa had no time for such drivel. Sometimes a cigar was just a cigar but only if it was Freud's cigar, if not it was a penis. The man had needed to get laid quite badly. She had never seen Marion so shook up over a dream, she was meant to be the logical and level headed one. She flicked through the pages once more before shutting the book and dumping it on the pile. She really needed to return some books to the library but every time she went there, she just came back with more books not less. They knew her by name and reputation as an avid but unreliable borrower.

[∆§Indea§∆]

She took a generous sip of tea only to find it stone cold. She resisted just spitting it out again and swallowed it down regrettably, you'd think she'd be used to it by now. She glanced at it ruefully before popping it into the microwave and zapping it for a minute. That was something she intended to find out how it worked someday. People just took it for granted that it heated food up.
Maybe there was a book at the library? She mentally slapped herself, focus Clarissa, focus. She was always so damn easily distracted, the dream, the freaky bird man and consoling her partner's worries were the main issue here. Not what made a microwave tick, that could wait. It would still bug her for the rest of the day though. Bird man dream, focus. There was that little shop down in Brunswick street that might know something, then again they might just annoy the fuck out of her. It was worth checking out though and then she might take a look at the gazebo herself, just to be sure there was nothing there.

Clarissa spent a good hour mucking around the house, doing small inconsequential things like small snacks, finding odd things that needed cleaning and generally useless time wasters. Finally in bright red jeans, a colourful scarf and black knitted jumper, she was ready to fly. Metaphorically that was. She set out ignoring the soft rain that misted on her hair. It wasn't quite enough to warrant an umbrella but enough to be a bother. The sun occasionally peeked over a cloud, just to remind everyone it was there. Leaves scattered across the pavement in shades of pale yellow, fading greens and oranges. Wet, sticking to boots and turning to mush under her feet. She had been lost in her own head, trumbling mindlessly towards the general area of the park when she bumped into her neighbour, 'Mrs. Manning, just call me Charlotte'. She seemed to always take special consideration in emphasising Mrs, as if it was some kind of accomplishment. Clarissa always had to fight to hide her disdain. Her kid was okay but this lady had a few too many brooms up her arse.

“Hi, Mrs. Manning, funny day isn't it?”

Clarissa wasn't one for formalities by any stretch of the imagination, she just liked the annoyance it caused Charlotte. The woman looked dead uncomfortable.

“ Please, it's Charlotte. Well, I must say it's good to see a lady of your age getting outside, despite it all. I was just heading out to see some friends. Busy, busy.”

Clarissa caught her self in a grimace, little snot. She quickly twisted it into a friendly enough smile.

“Yeah, I can't imagine how busy you must be. Being a secretary must be tough job, a housewife and a mother too. Well, I won't be one to keep you from all that. Cheerio.”

Clarissa swiftly made her social exit, waiting until she was well away before rolling her eyes incredulously. She was 60 not dead, for pete's sake. She trundled on, her mood slightly lowered by last company. She rounded on the innocuous park, the faint drizzle finally coming to an abrupt end. The sun had thankfully won out and she wouldn't have to go back to get her damn umbrella. The wind would always push it out of frame anyway transforming the umbrella into a useless bit of urban sculpture.

The park was empty, the grass wet and shining slightly in the new light. The ground was damp and that fantastic wet smell invigorating her senses. There was nothing quite like that just rained smell. The old green gazebo stood there and Clarissa had to do a double take. She'd been kinda expecting there to actually be something extraordinary about it. It really was just the same old gawky gazebo with it's chipped paint and musty dirt smell. One thing did catch her eye, someone had carefully spray painted an eye in one corner, long eyelashes and a spiral down the centre instead of an iris. There was fine detail in it's depiction and it almost seemed moist with more than autumn rain. Really, put it on canvas and some rich chump would call it art. Put it on public property for everyone to see and it was vandalism. She wondered what kind of person it took to commit themselves to that kind of art. For wankers like Banksy it was political or for notoriety. She had always liked graffiti,wanky or not. Anything that made the world a little brighter was good in her books.

She poked around as much as one could without sticking her fingers in the leafy, plastic and germ filled muck on the floor. Nope, there was nothing to speak of. She shook her head, wondering if she should make something up to make Marion feel better. Shame she sucked at lying. Well Marion had been literally trained to spot lies. Why had she gone for a Psychologist again?

*** ***

Adrian's toe had been bothering him endlessly all day, lucky his classmates already thought he was weird. He'd been fidgeting all day hoping to distract himself from the weird things his foot was doing. Well more exactly, his big toe. There really wasn't much a toe could do but it seemed to be making a go of it. It was at least causing his shoes to be really uncomfortable, like really uncomfortable. Every time he tried to stand up, those pins and needles would kick in, today he was even more uncoordinated than usual and that was saying something. Of course it seemed that the teachers had chosen this exact day to pick all the tasks that required him to be at least semi-normal.

He had just been paired with Alannah Short to test chemical reactions of stuff he couldn't remember the name of. She was brunette with a smatter of pimples but just enough make up to put her in with the popular crowd. Her face reminded Adrian of a horse but all her friends told her she was gorgeous and she believed them. How they'd been paired together was a sad twist of fate or her part, for Adrian it made no difference either way. None of his small number of friends or acquaintances were in this class. Whenever he looked at beakers of chemicals, he always imagined them to be the kind that would burn skin. Truth be told, the worst any these would cause would be minor skin irritation. His mind just wouldn't listen though and he always handed that task to someone else. More than happy though, to turn the gas on and set up the bunsen burner. He was a man of mystery alright. He always checked twice at the end to make sure the gas wasn't still running. Anyway for this experiment, Alannah had deemed it his responsibility and of course Mrs. Dhami had decided that this was the group she was going to do her obligatory supervision of students with. She had barely sat down and she already looked bored. She was a small plump dark woman with a short pixie cut and deep browns eyes. She would have been considered attractive if she smiled more but she always seemed to act like she didn't want to be there and wore a blank expression of disinterest.

He picked up the first vial and poured the sloshing mix into the beaker, it splashed around but remained in it's proper place. He looked up at Allanah for a clue as to what to put in next, he really should have listened earlier in class. He wasn't even sure what reaction they were looking for, gas, little clouds of smoke, a change in colour? She looked pointedly in the direction of her friends, not helpful at all. He made loud coughing noises to get her attention but she ignored him vigrously. He chanced a dopey look at Mrs. Dhami who pointed up at the third vial, filled with a slightly blue liquid. He poured that in, his toe buzzed in his shoe and a drop fell missing his precious hand by mere millimetres. He looked up horrified at Mrs.Dhami and then checked his hand for any tiny micro splash that may have gotten on his skin. For all he knew, he would start mutating or something equally weird. Maybe he'd suddenly be able to read minds, nope, that was just ridiculous. He might grow scales though...

Mrs. Dhami handed him a rag to clean off the tiny spill but only because it had rested within reach.

“ It's just [harmless liquid] Andrew, you'll be fine. Put in the [ chemical] next and it should [reaction]. You really should listen in class and then you wouldn't have this problem.”

“You should have put [chemically thing] in first.” Allanah piped in.

“It's Adrian, Mrs. Dhami . Andrew is the guy over there burning pencils with his bunsen burner.”

She looked over to where he pointed, cocked her head and then passively ignored the potential fire hazard. She motioned for him to put the final chemical in.

“ Go ahead Andrew.”

He poured it in stepping on his foot to control the misbehaving toe. It was getting ridiculous. He then stood back awkwardly, it was the gas cloud type. Should they be even breathing that stuff in? It lasted for a split second but still played on Adrian's mind.

“Was that meant to happen? It was meant to happen, right?”

Mrs. Dhami just looked kind of bored.

“Yeah, it was meant to happen. Now just clean this stuff up and you can write it up or not...”

The rest of his day dragged tortuously long and his toe didn't seem to get any better. Great, he had some kind of nerve disorder. His mind played a long list of possible diseases and ailment that it could be. By the time he got home, he was a nervous wreck. He got home, dumped his bag and began pacing up down occasionally tripping over his own vibrating toe. He felt inconsolable and as soon as his mother came in the door he pounced.


*** ***


Clarissa arrived at the shop labelled '13 moons' with her stomach rumbling, it was a miracle she had made it to the store without getting lunch. She was a woman on a mission. The store smelt heavily of incense and there was very little moving room, every nook and cranny was filled with wiccan commodities. Some of the decal stickers made her wanted to vomit slightly in her mouth. Heavy purple velvet seemed to grow out of the place like a living organism. Pendants and earrings hung from every available space. She wound herself around to the back and found a smiling if slightly absent minded looking cashier. The woman had pale skin and long braided faded blonde hair, she wore a long black velvet dress that seemed a size or two too big for her. Perhaps that was the look? Clarissa had stopped trying to work that kind of thing out ages ago. The woman began eyeing Clarissa as she was some teen about to shop lift. Ha like it wouldn't be easy in a shop like this, although with all of the mirrors perhaps not. She gave the girl a pleasant smile.

“Hi I was wondering if you had any books on dreams and bird men? My partner has had a funny dream and I was just wondering if you had anything for it?”

[∆§Indea§∆]

Clarissa had to strain her ears, had the girl spoken? Her lips had moved but no sounds seemed to come out.

“Um sorry, I didn't catch that.”

The girl spoke up but Clarissa could still barely hear her, it was just above a whisper. It was high, wispy and very girly.

“My earth name is Peach, welcome to Thirteen moons.”

“Peach is it, so yeah. Bird man dream, can you help?”

“Oh..What kind of bird was it?”

“Good question, fuck! Uhhh..oh a kiwi. It had a long sharp beak, feathers but human too.”

“Oooooh”

Peach's eyes widen slightly. She bit her lip thoughtfully. Twisting her hair in a loop around her fingers.That all there seemed to be to it, Peach became engrossed in the concentration it clearly took to hair twirl. Clarissa was unsure where to go next with it. Was she thinking deep thoughts that would solve the dream issue?Was she dealing with a hidden genius? The silence slowly grew more awkward and the girl's eyes glazed over slightly.

Clarissa decided to chance it.

“So, oh what?”

“Oh!” The girl smiled awkwardly with crooked teeth. Clarrissa wondered who'd decided it'd be a good idea to leave this girl in charge.

“Oh?” Clarissa's eyebrow drew closer together.

“Oh! That sounds like an amazing dream. Ummm maybe it's like her guardian angel or something. Your partner is indeed graced. Mine comes in the form of a terrier. I named it Poppy. ”

“Ha...that's nice..Er.”

“Oh!”

“Ooh?” Clarissa bit.

“Perhaps it's Harus, you know the egyptian god.”

“Horus?”

“Yeah...”

“Maybe, maybe. Does he appear in dreams?”

“I dunno.. Oh! We've got a book.” The girl's face lit up like she'd hit the jackpot. She squirmed out of her nook and headed back into the front of the shop. Clarissa followed unimpressed. Peach stopped proudly out the front of a dusty book shelf and removed a large tastefully shiny gold book labelled ' Egyptian gods and where to find them in your life' with a small cloud of dust. She smiled wanly at Clarissa before passing her the book. She looked so proud, the poor little thing. Clarissa's will buckled.

“Thanks, I'll take it.”

Peach took another book out with yet another billow of dust. Peach didn't even sneeze. Clarissa felt her own sinuses getting sniffly though, she needed to leave. The pain was terrible and the incense didn't help.

“What about this book on guardian angels too?”

“Sure.” What was she getting herself into? She let out a huge sneeze, it was incredibly unladylike.

“Eh sorry.”

“Bless you. That'll be $44.95 altogether. Do you want a receipt?”

Clarissa followed her back to the cash register already feeling guilty for the purchase. The register came to life with a loud ting. It was old fashioned and she almost expected there to be cobwebs lurking within. Clarissa watched as her money disappeared and she was left with just a few coins. Peach handed her a large paper bag with her books inside. She definitely deserved some lunch after this. What had possessed her, the bird man? She swore Peach's look had become condescending, she'd totally been played. She hurried out the shop before her senses left her completely.

Inside the bag she found a complementary sparkly purple sticker that read 'My inner Goddess is dancing.', nope, she was pretty sure it was gagging.

*** ***

The three teenagers sat slovenly inside the gazebo smoking cigarettes and generally being 'cool'. They sniggered at the losers walking past and getting on with their days, losers. They had all chipped in for a minimum of chips with cheese and gravy the remains were now scattered over the gazebo, nearby seagulls calculated their chances. The loud cursing, giggling and violent behaviour kept them waiting and wait they did. Their yellow eyes glistening and red beaks biting the air in anticipation of the later feast. A few dogs eyed the prize as their owners dragged them past quickly, avoiding the teenagers eye contact. The three continued on like this for many hours, soon replacing the tobacco with another type of plant, blowing smooth hazy air into the world. They had no where to go and didn't seem to care for the looks they received. The afternoon darkened into evening and the air began to bite at their exposed skin. The largest male, wore a large sports jumper and pants that hung low and a perpetual scowl. The second was a lanky girl with bleached blonde hair, with a penchant for eyeliner and fake tan. The third was pretty much average in every way and never left much of an impression except with his mouth. By this time the park was theirs and others who would have used it as a shortcut took the long way round. The seagulls had marked the gazebo in their minds and gone off in search of other easy meals, they had no care for freshness.

A particularly violent tussle between the two boys had left a bench almost in splinters to which peals of laughter were released. Tummies began rumbling again and the two boys were hunting for food, leaving the lanky girl to wait by herself, face glowing in blue phone light. She never felt alone as she chatted endlessly with friends on Facebook. Snickering and smiling to herself as messages popped up on her phone. Shadows danced with wind across the gazebo floor and the leaves once again took up the windy jig. The air sliced at her skin causing goosebumps and curled her in on herself, teeth chattering. She began to get less patient with waiting and began furiously texting the boys.

The two boys arrived back at the park with arms full of take away and alcohol. They hooted and called out with mouths full of greasy food and beer. They had already began to sway with alcoholic influence, no longer feeling the chill air. The larger had already began imagining what he was going to do with the lanky girl further into the night.

When they reached the gazebo, they found it empty.

Save for a small blue light.

******

[∆§Indea§∆]

III


His mother had looked aghast when he told her and then reason came after the initial panic and she looked at him sceptically. She would need proof, he could tell. They'd taken this interrogation to the kitchen and he sat up on the large bench with his feet dangling. The light bright and clear on his foot. His mother stood with her arms crossed and her boss face on. Her face was more wrinkled than usual with concern. Today she was wearing a fluffy pink blouse and her hair was tight against her face in a bun. Her perfume still invaded his nostrils, this one was fruity, but like bubblegum sweet. Her lipstick was hot pink and had clearly been worn out during the day.

“Well, let's this foot then shall we?”

“Okay but don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Trust me I won't.”

Okay, brace yourself.”

He slowly untied his laces trying to avoid the bits of grass. He could feel his toe vibrating within. He pulled his boot off dramatically revealing his smelly socked foot. The smell alone was a little shocking to the nose. He pulled it off, chucking it over the other side of the room like a smelly grenade. His mother's nose wrinkled back in shared disgust, distracted momentarily from the problem at hand. He wiggled his foot in her general direction and coughed loudly.

“Hmmm...” She took his foot in her hand, it was soft and powdery but a little cold.

“Hmmm?”

“Yeah...”
“Yeah?”

“Yeah, no. It's a bit weird isn't it?”

“Well, yeah. What do you reckon? Am I dying?”

She scoffed. “Never heard of someone dying from something vibrating.”
Her face went a little red and she seemed to be somewhere else. She shook her head and gave his toe a poke.

“Can you feel that?”

“Yeah, it feels normal.”

“Huh, it's got me beat.”

His dad wandered in, clearly entranced by the drama of a vibrating toe. Either that or there were ads on TV and he wanted a drink. Adrian's ego choose to believe the former. His dad was dark, tall and athletic. He wasn't one who had given up being fit after high school, in fact Adrian suspected he was addicted to it. He kept his running gear in a bucket and Adrian thought it smelt rather much like a corpse. You could always tell when he was getting ready for a run. You could smell it. Neighbours would always make comments and it mortified his mother, who was anal about cleanliness in the home. Not a chip packet went astray and the house always smelt faintly of bleach and ammonia ( used separately of course).

He was going for the fridge, Adrian was heartbroken. Luckily, just as he was about to slip back into the glare of the TV. The odd toe vibrating just caught his attention and he was hooked in. Truth be told Adrian might have been helping it on a bit. It seemed to like the attention.

“Blimey! That's a bit strange, you should get that seen to. It's not a sports injury is it.” His tone on the last bit was not at all convincing. Adrian was touched at the effort though, good old dad.

“Don't be ridiculous, Sam. Of course it isn't. If anything he probably got it from lying around.”

Thanks mum, moment ruined. Completely. His dad gave him a sympathetic look with a touch of disappointment. They'd even brought a dog as a 'replacement son' once, a large drooling mastiff complete with a studded collar. Dad and the dog had thrown balls, gone on long runs, he had loved that dog to bits. Unfortunately they discovered his mum had a mild allergy to it and that had been the end for the aptly named 'Jock'. They then downgraded to a guinea pig, the dog had meant to be Adrian's after all. He loved Spock and was pretty happy with the trade off. His father didn't like to talk about it, Adrian still caught him occasionally looking wistfully into the yard.

Now back to the toe.

His dad looked up in that no nonsense please way.

“How long has it been like this, son?”

“A few days, since err Tuesday.”

“Huh.” His dad gave mum a look, she returned it rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Nice one, we're not getting rid of the runners. Tough luck.”

With that, they both left in a huff heading back to their relative means of escape. Adrian was just left to stare at his weird vibrating toe. He could swear it had started glowing but maybe it was just in his head, it was hard to tell. Perhaps it was from using the microwave too much? With a large sigh, he recovered the sock grenade and reburied it with his foot inside his shoe. So much for getting to the bottom of things, what the heck was he meant to do with his toe going nuts on him?

He scoured out his mother again, who was sending emails and other innocuous things on the internet in her office. The room was full of pale wooden IKEA furniture all design to give the impression of a well ordered but slightly artsy office. She had little framed pictures from postcards on the walls and a single photo of him when he was five and still cute. He wore red corduroy overalls and a somewhat surprised look on his little chubby face. Next to it was a picture of her and his dad when they were young, both with huge smiles on their faces and a swarming beachfront behind them. Adrian sighed dramatically and scuffed his foot but her fingers remained in their quick dance over the keyboard. He tried once more and all he got was a bored huff, it may not have even been for him. He often heard her making strange little responsive sounds as she read and replied to her many friends and colleagues. He replicated the sound and kicked one of her many bits of furniture, he was pretty sure it contain every receipt she'd ever received and then others she had picked up from other people, she was a receipt hoover, all for tax purposes.

She gave him a funny look before returning to her email. He watched agnozing as she edited it and pressed send. Finally she turned to him, giving him at least 50% of her attention.

“What's up? You still fussing over your toe?”

“Yeah, it's not the shoes I swear. It's pretty weird isn't it?”

“I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow, I'm sure it'll be fine.Worst comes to worst, we can buy you bigger runners.”

He sighed with relief. “ Thanks mum.”

She gave him a comforting smile before returning to her work.

He moved up stairs turning to ignore the crazy pins and needles in his toe. He got Spock out of his cage and shut the door to his room. The little guy frolicked about on his bed diving in and out of the rumpled sheets before settling on Adrian's stomach. Adrian played on his phone, trading beans from jars to jars. He liked his old brick of a phone, who needed a smart phone when you everything you needed right here? He told himself it was retro cool. Though he sure could use the help of SIRI in a moment like this, although after playing around with his mum's phone once it'd probably just google it for him, he could do that himself. Maybe he'd invite Shaun over on the weekend to remind his mum again that he had friends.

*** ***

[∆§Indea§∆]

(New text added in the last post from the green.)

Clarissa scoured the new age trash for anything semi-helpful, she lounged on the couch smoking, and drinking tea. She still had a good hour until Marion came home, so she needed to get them in while she could. She knew it was a dirty and potentially life threatening habit but that was the thing about habits, they weren't things you thought about too heavily, you just did them. There'd been a fun chapter in the Egyptian book about Horus and how to find your inner wisdom by decorating your home with feathers, she was pretty sure tacky decoration didn't make you smarter. It also contain some interesting history about the god and how Jesus was just a christian copy in a lot of respects. All in all, she was pretty sure it wasn't Horus. The guardian was complete mumbo jumbo, although she did discover her guardian animal was most likely a squirrel monkey. Heavens knows the scientific reasoning and research that went into this book. There had at least been a lot of pot involved, of that she could be sure. She wasn't even sure how a guardian was meant to help anything, just show up in your dreams and give you meaningful looks? WooooOOO tomorrow you should avoid a second cupcake, it'll just make you sick and you'll regret it. She grinned to herself before getting her arse off the couch to accomplish... something. She wasted a bit of time rereading those books, she had to get her moneys worth for Pete's sake.

She had just conceded to using the books as coasters when Marion arrived home. Her hair was rumpled and the lines in her face were etched deeply. There were no earrings gracing her ears, which left her to worry enough on it's own. Marion smiled weakily at Clarissa, her eyes glazed with exhaustion.

“Hey honey, you don't look so good. Tough day?”

“Huh, it was just long. I 'm okay, really.”

“You don't look so good, want to call it an early night?”

Marion looked a little freaked out for a second then she relaxed.

“I think it might be a good idea, sorry...”

Clarissa tapped the couch with her palm and Marion came over and slumped in beside her snuggling in. Clarissa let her familiar smell soak in, running her fingers through Marion's short hair.

“I looked into the bird dream. I didn't find jack I'm afraid, a big fat zilch, sorry. I did aquire some brand new coasters. Pretty fancy huh?”

“Oh god you didn't go to that silly shop did you?”

“The very same.”

“Why? I thought you were over that stuff ages ago?”

“Just thought it was worth a shot, you know? I want to help.”

“Thanks, I think all I need right now is sleep.”

The evening drifted off and Marion escaped into the covers of their bed and began snoring fitfully. Clarissa just trudged around the victorian styled cottage, sifting through books and making disappointed huffing sounds. Their house wasn't the most organised but they liked it that way, it was more homey, it just meant things tended to get lost way more easily. It was full of art, keepsakes and brightly coloured frames. They had mounted up over the years and Clarissa always had trouble getting rid of things, what if they had a use later on? You never knew when something would come in handy. Finally, beaten Clarissa joined Marion under the covers and made some snoring sounds of her own.

******

Marion ran through the blurry crowd trying make some sense of it all. This was her third visit to this odd dreamscape and the images seemed to be getting clearer. She still felt like a kid who'd forgotten their glasses or something. The images shifted and broke like shards of glass, they seemed so much heavier than she remembered. Squinting she could almost make out faces with flashes of teeth and beaks. It was like sitting in a seat as an optician tried different lenses each getting a little clearer. The shapes seemed to dance like autumn leaves in the wind. Out of nowhere she heard music swell, violins and tiny taps of piano softly growing. Floating from a familiar green shape ahead, she could see every detail like looking through a fine lens camera. She knew it's every crack, spot, every tiny splinter like a lover. The music grew louder and she began to hear the oddly familiar lyrics...

…..perfect day.....


…............drink...... in the park

...gets dark....


...just a perfect day...


...feed animals....

...Oh, such a perfect day....

.You just keep...me hanging on...

The world came crashing in, every detail throbbing. It didn't make it any easier to make sense of anything, there were beaks where there should be mouths, fur where there should be hair, they were human but not human and they stared at her like an animal in a zoo.Every detail hurt and she found herself squinting and covering her eyes. Strange noises stinging her ears, the music softened.

..problems all left alone...


..such fun...

...You keep me hanging on...

You keeeep me hanging on...


The tide of creatures pushed, throbbed and she found herself moving closer to the gazebo involuntarily. Claws, fingers and tentacles at least it was as close as she could put them to things she knew. She felt so lost, so alien. The bird man from her dream stepped from the gazebo like a prince, his intense gaze pressing down on her. He opened his beak.


...Such a perfect day...

..with you...

in.. the park...

She was stunned the music poured from his beak like a recording. Where was he getting it from? The creatures closed in and she found herself looking deep into the bird man's eyes.

..Forget myself …

..thought..


...someone else...

Suddenly the piano seemed to burst from him and the violin screamed slightly through the notes piercing through the dream. She covered her ears and found herself wrapped in his arms and there in the crowd. Clarissa stood looking lost, running this way and that, not seeing not hearing. Marion watched as she stumbled about, Marion trying to opened her mouth in warning.


...reap just what you sow...

...Perfect day...


*** ***

[∆§Indea§∆]

Adrian sat in the waiting room making goldfish sounds with his mouth. He had just wadded through what felt like 50 million Women's magazines and he was none the wiser as to the state of Brangelina's marriage, would those crazy kids make it? He thought probably not. Not with Brad's sexy co-star and Angelina's commitment to adopting unfortunate children from third world countries. At least she gave them real names, Adrian found that somewhat reassuring. His mother had been engrossed in the same magazine for the past hour, Adrian was a flipper, only the headlines where important. He was receiving a dirty look from a fellow waiting room victim. She had what Adrian referred to as a hamster hair cut, it was short with odd patches of colour here and there. She wore black with patches of bright colours but she still seemed pretty conservative. She was clearly not as impressed with Adrian's impression as he was. She kept trying to give his mum pointed looks, to reel in her wayward son. His mother was too involved in Jennifer's love life to take any notice or if she did, she didn't care. Adrian made the goldfish noises progressively louder with innocent eyes until his mother kicked him slightly in the shins. She frown slightly at him like he'd put his leg in the way of her foot and continued reading. The hamster lady sent him a slightly horrified but generally gloating look. He rolled his eyes at her. He got his phone out and played around with that, why hadn't he brought a book. You needed a tent and a pillow sometimes at the doctors.

He had almost been ready to build a new land of chairs in an apocalyptic world, when the doctor finally came in and called his name. He shot so fast out of the chair that he almost upheaved the giant pile of Women's day magazines. Hamster lady looked a little shifty and shot a look at his mum's magazine, getting ready to pounce, muscles coiled. Much to her disappointed his mum had decided to bring it with her into the consulting room. He shot her a triumphant look, she stuck her tongue out at him in return, real mature.

He sat down dutifully in the consulting room, checking out all the little doodads and bits of doctor type stuff. Posters about noxious diseases where the only decoration in this little white room with it's grey curtain and tall bed. His mother and doctor chattered away, it ended up he had golf with a doctor that worked at her practise and they got all buddy buddy. He sat slightly forgotten in his chair and made some goldfish noises, he wasn't the most mature 15 year old out there.

“Very impressive Adrian, you have the look down flat. Now tell Dr. Smith about your foot. We brought him new runners last Monday and apparently his foot has started vibrating ever since. As you can see he isn't the most athletic boy by far, so we think it might just be in his head. You know how boys are.”

Adrian just nodded dumbly. “Feels kinda like a mobile phone's been chucked under it.”

“Uh huh” The doctor looked slightly bored now, a sharp difference from his discussing golf face. He was a demure man in his late forties, his dark peppered hair quaffed and his face typically handsome and his chin well manicured. He looked like one of those doctors they have on TV standing in the front of bookshelves. Adrian quickly shot a look to his credentials on the wall to make sure. He certainly had his mum's attention. Adrian felt huffy on his dads behalf, bet this guy didn't run for an hour every night before dinner. He probably had someone who did it for him, however that worked.

“I googled and I reckon it might be a pinched nerve or something. Either that or I'm dying.”

The doctor didn't seem to appreciate Adrian's wit or candour.

“You're not dying, nobody has ever died from a vibrat... nevermind.” His face went a little red. “ I wouldn't trust what I read on google, I didn't study for six years for it to be as easy as a simple google, kid.”

“Adrian.” Adrian said helpfully.

“Huh, my son's name is Andrew. I believe he goes to your school, we wanted him to get a public education. Well let's see this toe, I do have other patients.” Adrian's mum gave the man a slightly cold look at the public school comment.

“Oh, yeah he burns stuff in lab... and home economics and lunchtime..and in ma-” Adrian got to taking off his shoes and socks as he spoke. The doctor got defensive.

“YES! Yes, we're dealing with little Andy's little habit. He's a good kid, best student in metalworks. He made a sword replica from Skyrim, they were only meant to be making ashtrays too. The teacher was really impressed considering they only had welder and soldering iron.”

Adrian poked his toe out at the doctor, it wasn't vibrating. At all. He gave a weak little shake.

“Umm it's not doing it anymore, weird.”

“Very.” His mother growled.

The doctor graciously gave it a once over before snorting derisively.

“Looks like you just need some tinea cream, son. She'll be right.Don't even need a prescription.” The doctor was clearly trying to sound more middle of the road and typical but the words were clearly uncomfortable in his mouth.

That was that, the doctor ushered them out before asking his mum to say hi to Bill. His mother practically dragged him out and took him to the supermarket for tinea cream. She dumped the magazine in front of hamster lady on the way out. She'd clearly lost her taste for Jennifer's love life.

“There's another clinic we can't go back to.”

“Like he's going to remember. He probably gets like a thousand patients a day.”

“No one has a thousand patients. So embarrassing, a vibrating toe?”

“At least I don't burn things.”

“True, I'd hate to see the carpet in that kid's room. Want to get ice cream? Bill's going to have a field day at work, fuck.”

His mother ran her fingers through her carefully made up hair and sighed in defeat. Adrian was already deciding on toppings his eyes aglow.

[∆§Indea§∆]

*** ***

The police arrived at the park four days later with a flash of light and cornered off the gazebo with bright yellow tape.They were in no rush and some stood around looking bored and smoking while the others poked around the gazebo and surrounding area. Curious passers-by milled around like flies at a barbeque, watching and morbidly trying to guess at the crime. The papers had shown the face of the lanky blonde teen asking for any information as to her whereabouts but nothing criminal was suspected yet.

The gazebo stood amongst all of this like any other day,leaves piled high with no wind to toss them about. Small bugs rustling through enjoying the dark quiet within. Scuttling and burrowing deep. A few new bugs among them making their home in a soft new addition to the gazebo, enjoying an easy feast.

Senior Sergeant Thad Clark was in charge, a burly Greek man with greying curls and an unfortunate beer gut.He had deep blue eyes that he had used as a youngster to get the ladies. He scoured the area thoroughly, the disappearance had hit him badly as he had two of his own back home. They had hung out in the gazebo a few times themselves with friends. He felt pretty guilty too, he'd been on duty that night, seen the teenagers and thought better of confrontation. Mostly due to a rumbling stomach and a nicotine craving. Embarrassing. Mortifying. He'd just thought they were kids, they'd sort themselves out and now there was a girl missing. Gone and he could have intervened sent the kids packing back to their homes before the girl had disappeared. His mind was filling with what ifs, it was maddening. All he found were the corpses of a couple of dead seagulls and a couple of chip packets. Nothing to point to anything, no clues of misdemeanour. Nobody had seen anything, least of all the boys who'd been with her. Although they were both lined up for questioning at the station. Scared shitless. They really were just kids, dumb as shit but kids. He kicked one of the dead birds in frustration, then felt a wave of guilt, his youngest loved birds. He sat in the gazebo his head in his hands. It was hopeless. Another mark on his record, something else to keep him up at night. He sighed, they'd already wasted enough time here, it was time to go find something productive to do, file reports and a fuckload of paperwork. First Constable Brown had already racked off without a word, he'd have to have a talk with that kid. There was protocol, she should have known better. She had just disappeared.


*** ***

Such fun...

...I'm glad I spent it with you...


Marion opened her mouth but all that came out was a low humming, like her voice was on the wrong frequency for this land. She tried again shouting, a loud whine pulled from her throat. Clarissa was still stumbling about squinting and running fingers through her hair. Was it really her? This was Marion's dream after all. The firm arms kept themselves around her, it didn't feel like a dream anymore. Where was her control? She steadied herself trying to imagine a different scenario. A long beach with pale sand and golden sun shimmering through palm trees with a pleasant warmth. Clarissa and her sitting on towels, a red bikini on brown skin, wide smiles and laughter. Soft fingers under her own. She smiled despite herself, it was a good memory. She felt long fingers caress her own. She opened her eyes. Pale yellow eyes looked down surrounded in deep crimson. Long eyelashes curling, they really were the amazing eyes but they were not Clarissa's. She tried pulling away but it felt like they were attached to the bird man's, little hooks dug into her skin. She found herself shaking in his grasp, like a fish on a hook. His beak widened spilling a new song.

..Oh, oh my,

..Who really cares

..I was sleeping, gently napping
...Was I even home?
.

...Rattling in my head...

A blue creature, familiar came waddling up through the crowd. She tried to make sense of it. It's face covered in hairy scales with a wide fishy smile. It had an odd turned up nose that came to a sharp point on it's face. Sparse leafy feathers covered it's too long arms. It moved weaving in and out. It didn't stop until it was directly in front of Marion, it preened as if she was a mirror, turning this way and that. Asking her to admire it's bizarre form. It moved in close suffocating her with a rich fishy smell. Marion tried to raise her voice to Clarissa in the background and the creature became startled, turning her head this way and that. It's low green cat eyes glinting and sparkling, it made a low purring sound before opening it mouth wide to reveal rows of teeth.

...If I could be anything in the world that flew...

...Last time you were here things were a bit askew...

..All the things in this world that bite...

but the the funny thing is what happened to her nose...

The creature made a soft tittering noises, like a dolphin on steroids. She poked Marion playfully in on the end of her own nose. For some reason Marion felt a female energy coming from the creature but she wasn't even sure it was possible to label these creature such. She was feeling claustrophobic, this dream seemed to have no end. The bird man took her deeper into the gazebo, making rough barking noises at the blue creature who scampered off towards Clarissa. Marion was still struggling to see what was happening to her. She seemed to be disappearing from sight.New obstacles forming and growing, maybe she wasn't moving at all. The bird man caressed her cheek leaving little wounds in her face. With it's sing song, bumpy melody.

..Oh my, oh my, what shall we wear?...

..happens all the time...


..Did you hear who did what to whom...


….happens all the time


...Who has touched and who has dabbled...


..I am calling, yes I am calling....



...just to speak to you

Marion found herself shivering uncontrollably. Feverish, heat bursting in her skin and swallowing her thoughts. She found herself slipping like sand though the dream. She tried to take a hold on something, anything. She was almost glad for the small hooks holding in her skin, she relaxed into them, grabbing a hold of the bird man. Just waiting for it all to be over.

*** ***

Clarissa found herself in a topsy turvy world of shapes, mirrored and refracted. Moving together and separately in a dizzying desperate display. She squinted trying to make sense of it all, as if it could make any sense at all. They moved in all the wrong ways while she was tied to a single plane, they came tripping her up, appearing out of nowhere. Light shown like a gigantic lamp over head, blinding her occasionally as shapes moved in and out in front of it. Some were deep and dark, others pale and florescent. It was like being stuck forever inside a kaleidoscope.

She felt like an ant running from the magnifying glass of a seven year old boy. She kicked several shapes out her way, she had no idea where she was going, only that she had to get there. A familiar shape kept alluding her in a deep forest green, she swore it was the gazebo but each time she got close to making sense of it, it disappeared behind another shape. Soft violins creaked as shapes moved against each other and soft drums peddled as she ran through this bizarre dream land. The ground she seemed to be running was a soft marshmallow without the stickiness.

She swore softly to herself, she felt certain that Marion was in here somewhere suffering, she had to find her, comfort her and then tear this shit hole down. She felt so furious with herself, this was all so strange, the shapes reflected in deep red in response. This was her dream not Marion's, she just hoped Marion was dreaming sweetly beside her in bed. She crunched a wayward shape under her boot.

Then she felt a soft arm slide around her, suctioning fingers popping and sucking at her skin, leaving small purple bruises. She turned to find herself reflected back, her mouth wide and smiling with rows of teeth made of glassy shards. Clarissa screamed and the teeth broke into thousands of pieces, then were sucked up in the body of her doppelganger like a black hole, still grinning widely. It did a little dance, as if amused by her reaction. A soft tittering sound skittered and was thrown back to her, which caused her reflection to titter some more.

Clarissa had enough, she kicked it and it kicked back. She found herself staring up at the ceiling, rank fishy breath on her own. Catty eyes looking deep into her own, the creature now looked like a badly done portrait of herself. Except those eyes but they weren't Clarissa's. They were something else altogether. The bits of her crackled a little, crumbling under some kind of invisible weight. Clarissa got her fingers in their and began picking away bits of the face, underneath there seemed to be nothing but blue shapes jostling with each other. Clarissa gave up, she brushed bits of her other self off and stood up. The world still moved in and out, the light still shone heavy. Her other self was brushing itself off too and didn't seem too upset by the face lift. It still leered at her, face crumbling around the edges. Blue poking through in bright shades. Clarissa gave it another kick before high tailing it out of there. As much as she could in this marshmallowed earth. The other self stumbled behind her, leaving bits of itself in a trail. Clarissa tried running harder but her efforts seemed in vain.

The normal laws had dissolved like butter, just when she'd run out of steam the ground harden under her feet and there solidly as anything only a breath away, was the gazebo standing strong. Dark shadows moved in and out in a curling dance. Spots of colour poking through. Clarissa called out in vain and heard rippling sounds coming in with the violins. She moved in colour, ignoring the tearing feeling or the hand at her back. She just felt it was important to keep pushing through, she let emotions take lead. The shadows spun and whirled trying to push her out initially. She was blinded but she stood her ground. Finally they softened, melting into the background and curling away like smoke.


She was left in a stark world of detail, strange creatures gathered around and next to her was Marion. Wide eyed and wrapped in the arms of what Clarissa could only assume was the bird man. She tried to admire his cold strange beauty, but he was holding on to the only person she ever cared about. She attacked him with all her might, or she would have were she not wrapped in arms of her own. Fishy breath reeking and playing with her senses. Holding her in with it's tight suctioning grip. It was her other self but no longer playing the game, this creature was nothing like her now. What game were they playing?

...Forget myself...


*** ***

Adrian tucked into his chocolate ice cream, his face covered in caramel syrup and bits of peanuts. His toe had taken up the act again, it had a mind of its own. There was no point mentioning it though, he would just be the little boy who cried wolf. Stupid toe, Stupid doctor with his deranged son. Adrian angrily slurped his ice cream mush. His mother in front of him demurely eating what seemed to be a thimble full of ice cream and a single crushed peanut and a single teaspoon of sauce. She was taking her time like it was freaking huge. Adrian had practically taken half the tub, it was worth the greasy looks from her. She would have judged him even if he was reasonable about it. Ice cream in this house didn't happen very often anyway. He had to smuggle sweet things in, speaking of which he had brought a whole bunch of pop rocks when his mother's back had been turned. He was gonna be in pop rock heaven right after this ice cream oh yeah.

“Why do you have to slurp it? Ugh, this is why I don't buy ice cream.”

“Sorry” He gulped down another spoon. “Tastes better this way.”

“Uh huh, really? Pretty sure it tastes the same.”

“Mmm not to me.”

“What ever floats your boat I guess. Well, I'm full. My trainer is going to kill me.”

She left half the ice cream in there, Adrian stared in horror at the waste. She just looked at him derisively, still eyeing what was left of his ice cream mountain.

“Aren't teenagers supposed to have good immune systems?”

“Maybe... I don't get sick much.”

“Not that kind of immune system. Oh well, you'll grow out of it.”

“Or into it.” Adrian stuck his tongue out.

“I'm still not convinced you weren't swapped at birth.”

“Yup, there's some lucky skinny kid out there with awesome parents who only eat pizzas and take out.”

His mother made a face.

“Really lucky ugh.”

With that she stomped off to her office to send emails or whatever she did on there. Adrian ate his ice cream in peace. It was delicious, he even added some pop rocks to the mountain. It was an ice cream volcano now. The rocks sizzling and cracking on his tongue.The evening was fretted away with dinner and homework, his dad went for his run and ate a huge bowl of ice cream himself, almost finishing the tub completely. Adrian was not impressed at all and gave him a self righteous glare. Damn ice cream gobbler. No respect at all. Speaking of respect, Adrian glared at his now re-vibrating toe, the bastard. He decided to sit down with it, face to toe. Sort shit out, some one had to be the adult here. It clearly wasn't his toe. He shot one final look of disgust in his father's direction. His dad was too busy watching footy, he didn't notice. Adrian sighed and stomped up to his bedroom.

The room was a shambolic mess of reasonably epic proportions, Adrian hadn't seen the carpet in ages. It was the one place in the house that his mother held no reign over, quite frankly she'd given up. Occasionally she got too fed up and it became clean, it wouldn't last very long at all. Sometimes a couple of days, sometimes just a few hours. The mess always won over in the end. It was full of nick nacks he'd picked up, weird little buttons or coins he'd found bent over. Mcdonald toys from a range of different disney movies, beanie babies and piles of dirty clothes. He had a couple of posters of bands desperately clinging to walls with the smallest amounts of blue tac. It was hard to discern if Spock's cage was on a table or just another level of mess. CD were splayed out on the floor, mostly face up. They stilled worked mostly, the CD player was almost lost except for it's constant orange light. Like a beacon of musical hope, it stood dead centre. The only thing truly cared for in this messy jungle was a single white bust of Beethoven, standing snowy white on his on mantle in front of his window. It had a particularly disapproving look on its face this evening.

Adrian sat on the mound he called a bed, well, it was pretty sure it was his bed. It was his bed shaped mound anyways which was close enough. He turn his lamp to face his foot like an old detective movie, although you couldn't really blind a toe. Adrian slowly removed his shoe and threw the sock grenade onto its rightful pile. Everything had an order here, everything. For the first five minutes neither said a word. Of course the toe had an advantage, it just sat there on his sheet vibrating like it had somewhere to go, Adrian knew better. He just wished he someone to play good cop to his bad. He'd have to play both.

“Right, what the hell is going on? This is NOT normal foot behaviour.”

The toe stood like a rock, unmoving.

“I demand an explanation, you really let me down in there.”

The toe vibrated more slowly. It didn't flinch.

“WELL? Don't make me get violent on you, I'll do it!!

It wiggled at him almost suggestively, rude.

“Come on, we're pals aren't we? Body buddies.”

It was time to bring out the big guns. Adrian walked over to the bathroom and retrieved the tools of torture, careful not to let the toe 'see'. Then he resumed his interrogation on the bed. He slyly brought out the tweezers, no toe could withstand the terror, at least in his experience. He'd once kept a splinter in his toe for an entire week rather than face the tweezers. Of course it had gotten all infected and nasty. That had been the first clinic that his mum had refused to go back to, who got an infection from a splinter? Seriously. Luckily Adrian didn't care, he'd learnt his lesson though.

He poked the toe with the tweezers gritting his teeth slightly, a small drizzle of sweat forming on his brow. He had forgotten the needle they' used for that splinter.

The toe was unmoved, vibrating cheerfully away.

He poked it again for good measure.

“Look, we can either work together on this or fall apart. I mean, we're kind of stuck with each other, aren't we? I know you're not much of a talker but I'm kinda hanging in here on my own. And you're kinda hanging from me, aren't you?”

The toe seemed to think about this a wee bit, it was a hard read. Being a toe and all there wasn't much for it to give away. Adrian did not have the upper hand in this despite being the only one with hands in this interrogation. He gave it some thinking space as he messed around on his phone and came up with one more idea. It'd better work or he was bust. Beaten by a toe, both figuratively and literally. Hell. He moved silently back to the bathroom and filled the bath tub with icy cold water. Then he tiptoed to the kitchen and stole ice from the freezer. His parents were watching some movie about a girl and guy who meet and fall in love then fight then make up. It was full of cheesy love, sickening. At least it distracted them from the bucket of ice he inconspicuously brought up to the bathroom. He dumped it in, involuntarily shivering himself. Right, it was do or die time.

He slowly lowered his toe just above the water line.

“Tell me everything you know or I'll step in it. Freeze you nails off. I'll do it. See if I won't. Spill your beans....bitch.”

Adrian looked around for any parents his face red. Oh god he just said that.


The toe vibrated violent and Adrian wobbled slightly.

“COME ON!!”

It took it to 11. Adrian slipped falling face first into the freezing water. He'd done a really good job and he felt the full force. Brain freeze everything, it was horrible. Every bone in his body, frozen. Then he did something he wasn't proud of and his pain was alleviated temporarily. He got up his whole body shivering and vibrating now just like his toe. He was a vibrating mess. He wrapped his body in a mass of towels and moved to the heater in his room, pushing away all the flammable mess and turning it on full bore. He still felt cold. Tears sprung to his face, hot against his icy skin, stinging slightly. He curled in on himself, he was so stupid.

“D-dd-don't I d-deserve to know, it's m-m-my toe.”

That's when he felt a soft rap on his shoulder. Looking down at him with a soft expression was a odd looking man in a pale blue suit, bits of paper on his weak chin. He smiled wide and apologetically and shrugged slightly before sitting down next to him. Slipping slightly through the wooden boards, Adrian could make out other objects through the ghostly man. Then he spoke in a soft voice that reminded Adrian of a creaking floorboard. It groaned and grated with effort.


"Hey, Champ.. Sorry about the dip.”

Adrian just stared, shivering not just from his icy bath. It had all been fun and games but this was real? Or was it just a symptom of pop rocks and freezing cold temperatures? He mouth hung open and it took him several moments to gain his composure. The man just looked back with pale blue eyes, they had little crinkles from smiling but there was a deep sadness there. His eyes looked like they were on the verge of crying. It made Adrian sad just to look into them, like it was catching. The man smiled a lot but Adrian didn't think he ever meant it. They sat there together for several moments more, just sitting in silent company. The man's wild nest of hair swaying in an imaginary breeze. This was the man from his pop rocks episode, but this time Adrian was definitely awake and he took in more details of this strange being. There were deep grooves in his neck and scars trailing up his wrist, showing because the suit was a size too small, clearly it had been made for a shorter man. It looked faded and rumpled like it'd been stuck in a trunk most of its life. The ghost brought the china rabbit out of the air again and began mindlessly moving it hand to hand. Adrian licked his lips trying to bring moisture back into his mouth

“S-s So what are you doing in my toe?”

“Honestly kid, I wish I knew. Wasn't my idea, who possesses a toe? Seriously! Could be worse though...” He seemed to go somewhere else and shivered as it was possible for a ghost to shiver, which was apparently a lot, and his image almost disappeared completely winking out of sight.

“Has it been long? I mean I've never paid much attention to my toe. Sorry about the tinea...”

“It's not so bad.... Okay it's pretty crappy. Have you heard of drying you toes? Or changing you socks for that matter. The stink, boy, the stink.” The ghost looked a little exasperated.

“Sorry, I try to be more hygienic. You could help out too, you know? What's with the vibrating?”

The ghost gave him an incredulous look.

“Have you tried possessing a toe? How the heck else was I going to get your attention?”
“Fair cop, I guess. You could been a bit more showy at the doctors, You left me high and dry in there.”

“Riiight, and that would get you where? Sure they might think it was psychosomatic or a pinched nerve but then they might also think you've gone barmy too. Lock you away in some clinic, it ain't pretty kid. I've been there. Makes your toe seem like a bleeding paradise.“

“I did get ice cream out of it.”

“See kid, I did you a solid. Now you gotta do me one.”

Adrian looked skeptical, letting someone hang out in your toe was pretty high on his list. Still Adrian was dead curious, it wasn't everyday you spoke to a spook. He scratched his head, trying to play it cool.

“Sure, if you stop messing with my toe.”

“Fine but you have to work with me on this, no more ignoring... or smelly socks. Name's Craig Kennedy by the way, nice to meet you face to face. I'll clue you in.”

“Adrian. Nice meet you Craig, weird name for a toe. What's the mission Mr. Kennedy? ”

*** ***

[∆§Indea§∆]

((Earlier post modified from the orange, missing bit added to that.))

IV

Leaves rushed up the entranceway to Marion and Clarissa's house.A couple of newspapers sat on the lawn uncollected, dew collecting under the plastic wrappers. A few bits and pieces of rubbish had been swept in by the wind. The windows had remained shaded for more than a day now but none of their neighbours noticed anything or if they did they didn't think anything of it. Henry sat mournfully on the front porch shooting sad looks to passers-by. Occasionally he'd get up and wearily wander the yard but it wouldn't be long before he was right back on that porch.

That morning a salesman came knocking on the door. He was a skinny weedy man with an expensive haircut and a cheap suit.His face would have been considered handsome, were it not for the lack of care he'd shown it. It was pocked with pimple scars and toughened by hours spent in the sun. This was his 48th house and it was wearing him down, his fixed smile hurting the muscles in his cheek. He was selling a better new form of energy saving technology that would save them hundreds or at least that was the pitch. He knocked for a good solid ten minutes but garnered no reply from within. He tried to cop a look inside one window, only to find a thin layer of dust. He gave up then and there, these guys were not his recommended audience. Still he tried not to judge any place too harshly, sales came in the strangest of places. He left a small slip in their battered red mailbox and went on his way. He spared a pat around the ears for the pooch sitting on the porch, it gave him sad eyes and a small lick in return.

Inside the house, food in the kitchen had gone off, milk soured and curdled in cups of tea. The women slumbered letting out deep breaths and sighs, tossing and turning, kicking and rolling but still they didn't wake up.

*** ***

Clarissa stood and looked deeply into Marion's hazel green eyes, trying to read anything from them. Marion tried to speak but nothing came out but a soft whine that stung Clarissa's ears. The beasts sat around the gazebo turning their heads from side to side as if listening to a deep sermon. Small chattering noises echoed around as they whispered to each other. It was still hard to tell where one creature started and another began. They were a bizarre conglomerate and Clarissa wasn't sure exactly what she was looking at. One thing for certain they were not guardian angels of any kind. The bird man seemed to be the leader or at least the instigator of some unknown goal. Why they had picked her or Marion was inconceivable to Clarissa. There seemed to be some kind of communication between their captors, the bird man made a deep bark to which hers let out a soft purr. Then they were free with no where to go, fuck. Clarissa made a bee line for Marion swooping her up in her arms.

What do you want? She mouthed wordlessly to the birdman.

..Woh-woh-woh, you keep hangin' round me...

..and I'm not so glad you found me...


...The kind of animal

….....that I would be about

….all right now

…..ah-huh-huh

His head twitched from side to side, his thin red human mouth unmoving. It sounded exactly like a recording that warped and sung from it's mouth. Where did it get this from? Then Clarissa smiled to herself before sitting up straight. Of course, Marion loved Lou Reed, she'd been playing his hits last night. Where had where had it ripped that from her mind? It was her dream but wasn't it now Clarissa's too? This wasn't a time for what ifs though, this shit was happening right now. Clarissa took Marion deeper into her arms but somehow Marion just slipped completely though her like butter. Clarissa cried out spinning around only to find Marion right beside her. She found her arm slipping further into the gazebo, the surface becoming thick and rubbery like an oil slick. Marion just sat there as if frozen in time, unblinking, her face unreadable.


...lock the door..

….And have an open house no more


...slowly slip away


….If I have to lock the door
….....Another life exists no more,

...slip away..

Clarissa felt herself slip deeper into sleep, scene disappearing into a comforting numb blackness of nothing. The darkness like a soft velvet taking her in it's folds and soothing away her worries. Soft vibrations filled her skin like static. Her conciousness flickered in and and out.

*** ***

Marion watched in horror as Clarissa appeared in the gazebo, only then to melted into the blue creature in a sticky liquid, the blue creature smiled widely reflections of Clarissa twinkling against every tooth as she disappeared completely. So Marion was left alone again with the creatures with their steely gazes. Marion squeezed her eyes shut, trying to awake from this insane dream. She was still being held tightly by the bird man, his face close to hers, thin red lips in a tight frown. His breath sweet and fruity, the breath was oddly cold against her cheeks. He seemed to hold all of her weight and it felt almost as if she was floating inside the gazebo. She pushed gently against him but it was like being stuck in a tightly made up bed and it did no good. She no longer felt the small hooks in her skin but she wasn't sure that was a good thing. Pins and needles instead crept up and done her spine.

Marion watched as the gazebo seemed to stretch and bend, it was growing and the creatures began moving backwards to allow for it's expanse. Marion pinched herself, she didn't think she'd like where this was going at all.


*** ***

Adrian had found a long black shirt and some black pants that his mum usually made him keep clean and tucked away for safe keeping. He put them on, all with a great big grin on his face. He was feeling like some kind of secret agent, he was pretty excited by the mission he'd been given by his toe ghost, Craig. The ghost just sat on the edge of his bad looking sad and occasionally rolling his eyes as Adrian hummed the mission impossible theme to himself.

“You're humming it wrong, kid. It doesn't go like that.”

“Yeah, it does. I've watched the movie like 10 times and the sequels.”

“James Bond? It goes like this.” The ghost began whistling the James Bond theme.

“Nah, Mission Impossible. James Bond is alright, I guess.” Adrian shrugged.

“Nobody can beat Sean Connery, guy was a master.”

“Master of a ridiculous accent you mean?”

“Sean Connery was the king of spies, don't talk to me kid.”

“You just haven't seen Tom Cruise, trust me. It'll change your view.”

“Yeah, I doubt it. Why are we even talking about spies, Champ? It's just a simple break in, nothing fancy.”

“I have get my game face on, I've never done this before. Never even been late to school. Okay, maybe like once... Or twice. Okay like four times but I legitimate reasons.”

Adrian started as he heard a slight knock on his door. He gave Craig a warning look and a couple of funny hand signals. Craig sent back a couple of exaggerated hand signals himself. Mostly with just the one finger.

“She can't hear me, mate. No worries.”

“Oh” Adrian said quietly and then piped up to his mum. “What's up , mum? I'm just practising for er...Drama. Yeah, drama.”

“Not a problem, honey. Just thought I'd better remind you that your aunt is coming over tomorrow night, so you might want to think about cleaning your room before she comes. Or not. Second thoughts, I'll put her on the couch, more comfortable.”

“Mum? Is it okay if I go out for a bit?”

“Sure, no skin off my back. Have fun.”

With that he listened as his mum walked away down the hall humming the James Bond theme to herself, weird. Adrian thought he already won her over to the Mission Impossible team, perhaps she needed more convincing. Perhaps she needed Mission Impossible marathon convincing, yep now that was a mission that was impossible. He found his woollen beanie behind his bed and put it on with relish. Sure it was navy blue but it still had the little eye holes, he'd cut them out himself and his mum had been furious with him over it. Although she was happy it meant he'd thrown out the pair of stocking he'd been using instead. One day he'd make her understand. Next he found his torch, sure it was the middle of the day but a spy had to always be prepared. Then he found his pocketknife under an old pair or socks, he been preparing for this his whole childhood, he needed the whole shebang. He still held a grin from ear to ear.

“Damn, didn't think you'd be so into it. We're just breaking into a house owned by two old ladies. It's not even a bank. They probably left the back door open. I'd do it myself but I'm kind of attached to you kid, well your big toe at least. Plus I can't move anything on my own, being a ghost and all.”

“Shh don't ruin the drama, Craig. It's much more fun this way.”

“You're a weird kid, you know?”

“Says the ghost in my foot, looks who's talking. Why didn't you speak up sooner?”

[∆§Indea§∆]

The ghostly man shrugged nonchalantly. The turned his back sightly seemingly deeply interested in Spock's cage. He poked a couple of ghostly fingers through the cage wiggling his fingers at the rodent. Then he stood up straight running a hand through his bush of hair.

“Timing wasn't right.”

And he left at that, Adrian busied himself with his kit. Double checking every last detail before nodding happily. Torch, check, pocketknife, check, balaclava, check, cool utility belt, check. Technically the utlity belt was his dad's barbeque belt but Adrian had just dumped out the tongs and spatula and hey presto! (www.thegreenhead.com/imgs/grillers-tool-belt-1.jpg)

“Do you think they'll be expecting us?”

“Not if I'm right, champ.” Craig brushed off some invisible dust.

“Let's do it.”

*** ***

Adrian and Craig slipped out of the house with little more than a raised eyebrow from his mother. She was busy with her coffee and paper, reading about tax cuts or raises or something equally boring and tedious. Adrian tried not to give Craig too much attention, his mum thought he was weird as it was. It was barely a hop, skip an jump to his neighbour's house, they practically shared a wall. Still Adrian tried to milk the distance for what it was worth. Making use of his small fence and hid when a young goth couple passed by unexpectedly. The guy had his hair spiked up with half a bottle of hair spray wearing an over-sized band shirt and bondage pants. The girl looked like she'd stepped out of a Avril Lavigne video. They just laughed uncomfortably going on their way. Adrian remained frozen in place, he was a tad disappointed, maybe they weren't laughing at him? Maybe the boy had just told a really bad joke, totally. Who was he kidding? He stood up brushing himself off before continue to the location point. The yard was looking a tad overrun but Adrian wasn't too concerned, he was busy doing rolls around the side of the house. Until he got a wet chip rapper stuck to his back and the glamour was gone. Craig just followed dolefully behind with his usual sad eyed expression. They were shadowed by a little furry shape. Adrian gave the little guy a quick pat before continuing on his way.

he victorian cottage was small and painted in deep blues, stained glass windows had been painted in with crimson acrylic paint to match the window sills. Adrian peaked inside one trying to make out anything in the rose coloured gloom, he tried one of the unpainted segments but it made everything bubbly instead. Damn these artsy types and their fancy peek-proof windows. It's like they don't want fifteen year old boys looking through. He continued to the back, peeking through every available window, just in case they gave any clues at all. Craig hadn't been very forthcoming in what they were doing exactly. Adrian wasn't one to ask questions and honestly he found Craig to be pretty intimidating, being a ghost and all. So he just went along, no real questions asked. He just hoped he didn't end up with egg on his face. Figuratively or literally.

When they finally got to the back of the house, Adrian had a good look around. Peeping over the fence was one thing but actually being there was another. It was exciting, he was trespassing. Breaking the law. Being bad arse, a rule breaker. There was a rule about trespassing and he totally broke it, like a rebel. They had a small veggie patch going in one corner and a beds flowers creating a sort of maze which led in the centre to a small nook complete with an ornate metal couch. It had once been black but had clearly been sanded back to give it a more grungy look. They had a small archway covered in twisted knotted wire, Adrian blushed when he spotted a well endowed statue of a female torso. The face staring blank and accusingly at him. As much as a statue could anyway. Craig popped his head through a bunch of flowers and gave him a rather pointed look. Henry trotted over and began bitting at his shoes, he pushed the small canine away but the little beast was determined.

“Finished being a sticky beak yet? Still gotta get inside kid. I checked and I think it's unlocked.”

“Aw really?”

“Don't sound so disappointed and apologise to the lady statue. Staring is rude.”

“Eh yeah, sorry about that. She started it, freaking stare bear.”

“I was kidding, it's a statue. Geez, what have your parents done to you? Do you apologise to the toilet when you use it?”

“You're not very good at joking.”

“Sorry kid, out of practise.”

“It's alright, Okay!! Let's do this.” Adrian gave him a wide smile, his enthusiasm renewed. He hummed a funny tune that combined bits of the James Bond and Mission Impossible themes. A mash up, oh yeah. Craig didn't look so impressed but he didn't say anything but Adrian noticed him biting his ghostly lip.

What kind of music did you listen to Craig? You know before you carked it.”

“Oh the Beatles were pretty groovy, Buddy Holly was swell too. Four Seasons and Cliff Richards.”

“You lost me after Beatles.”

“Philistine...”

Henry gave a small bark of derision.

Sure enough the back door slid open easily but not before a little grey streak burst through ahead of them. Craig looked pretty amused by this and motioned for Adrian to go in. He found the inside quite shocking, it was a mess compared to his home although a shrine compared to his own room. The house had an awful spoiled milk musty smell but underneath that was incense and jasmine. Adrian's eyes were captured by the array of colours and the unique bits of art covering almost every space in the house. The walls were bare wood boards and the floor was the same with old tattered persian carpets carelessly put in place.

[∆§Indea§∆]

Adrian traipsed down the hall barely able to contain his excitement, it was a little gloomy with clouds of dust swirling in the odd streams of sunlight here and there. He had a look at a couple of books flicking through the pages. It was still light enough to see but he clicked his torch on for good measure, shining it this way and that like a spy or CSI agent. The only way it could be cooler was if it was blue. He should have got some blue cellophane happening. Damn it. How was he gonna spot crime now? Craig motioned him forward taking decisive movements and shoving his head through walls here and there. Adrian glanced around the home, blushing at a couple of the photos on the wall. He followed Craig into a room to the left and almost skittered right out again. It was their bedroom and they were there sleeping. It was midday, gosh they must party hard or something. Craig looked at him sternly hands on ghostly hips in a no nonsense way. Adrian mouthed 'What now?'.

“Wake them up, it's not exactly rocket science. I'll be eternally grateful. When they wake up, just repeat what I tell you okay. It's important and don't freak out when they do.”

Adrian gave Craig a salute. He wandered up cautiously feeling pretty darn antsy. He started with Ms. Stephens because Ms. Kibebe frightened him a little more. His heart was galloping heavily in his chest and he tried to calm his breath. This was much more weird and awkward now that he was actually doing it. He took deep breaths trying to psyche himself up to the task. Craig stood facing him giving encouraging movements with his hands. Henry was already at work scampering around the bed yipping and barking with frustration. Adrian stepped forward and began shaking Ms. Stephens who was tangled in half the sheets.

“WAKE UP MS STEPHENS, IT”S MIDDAY!! EERR YEAH!! WAKE UP!!” Adrian used his outside voice, it was pretty refreshing really. She didn't budge, just moaned slightly. Adrian turned to Craig in frustration.

“The big guns?” He looked doubtful.

“Afraid so, kid. Afraid so.”

Adrian got his water pistol from his holster, Craig had told him to bring it and now he knew why. Spraying an acquaintance with a water pistol whilst breaking into their home. This was going to be a big one, his mum was literally going to kill him this time. He just hoped he hadn't gone off track, that Craig was real and this was not some form of psychosis. This was not going to end well if so. He wasn't so sure it was going to end well if it wasn't.

He aimed it at her sleeping moaning form and pulled the trigger closing his eyes.

*** ***

Marion watched as the two beasts closed in on her and the whole world became the gazebo. It was strange that as the gazebo got bigger, she felt more closed in by it. Sweet and fishy breath intermingled, the blue creature smiling widely and the bird man frowning ever deeper. It reminded her of the masks of drama. The sides of tone coins, tragedy and comedy. A hum filled the space blurring the world and she felt her conciousness slipping in her grasp.

Then without warning it all began to dissolve like water on ink. And the two creatures seemed to cave in on themselves, the bird man reached out with one final attempt.

...Walk on the wild side..

...Take a walk on the wild side...

Then she snapped awake and found herself looking into the slightly pudgy face of a curly haired teenage boy squinting his eyes as he squirted her in the eye with water. She still felt pretty groggy.

“What the hell? Adrian? What are you doing here?”

She glanced over to see Clarissa still asleep beside her, snoring gently.

“We gotta wake up Ms. Kibebe, you do it. I'll explain then, yeah. That's right, yeah?”

The kid seemed to get some confirmation, before he handed her another water pistol. It was bright orange and see through. She was going to protest but then she glanced over at her alarm, that wasn't right was it? Shit! She started pumping the gun at Clarissa's face who woke up with a groan. Staring bleary eyed at the somewhat strange scene before.

“FUCK!! ADRIAN?What's going on? What are you doing in out house? Don't make me call your mother, trust me I don't want to.”

The boy stood looking very meek, he kept looking off to his left. His head cocked to the side listening to something they couldn't hear. Had the boy lost the plot too. She hadn't forgotten her dream as easily as she'd like. She still felt haunted by it, an unease filling the cracks of her back and squeezing her heart. She looked at the boy who looked rather like a stunned mullet still looking at the corner of the room... for advice?

“I'm here to help you get away from...the bird man? I've got help from someone whose had experience he wants...to help you... destroy the gazebo? Cleanse it? Wait! destroy it or cleanse it? Both? Both. Yeah... Both apparently.”

Marion's mouth dropped, she felt it had to be some horrible coincidence, more she wanted it that way but a deep dread inside her stomach told this was the real shit. Apparently Clarissa didn't feel so inclined.

“Look kid I like you, I do but you this sounds fucking barmy and trust me when I say I know barmy.”

The kid looked to the corner again and Marion felt Clarissa become frustrated.

“Adriiaan.” She practically hissed.

“It's Saturday...”

“No, it's Thursday.”

“It is Saturday.” Marion pointed to the alarm.

“Shit.”

“Yup.”

“What a fucked up dream...”

“Yup”

That's when Marion released she was laying in her pyjamas with her next door neighbour's kid at the foot of her bed. Whatever the kid had to say, he could say it when she was properly clothed surely. It would at least make the situation slightly less awkward. She could tell it was going to get pretty fucking awkward. This whole thing was so weird it was starting to feel really normal, which made no sense but there it was. She shoed the kid out into the lounge room while she and Clarissa made themselves reasonably presentable given they'd been a sleep for approximately three days. While she and Clarissa put on some comfortable clothes, they shot some serious looks between the two of them. Marion was a loss for words, there wasn't any training for hey were we dreaming the same thing or what. It didn't really come up in conversation much. Luckily Clarissa didn't think as much about what she was going to say and broached the situation on her own.

“So, I met the bird guy, he's kinda freaky huh. What the fuck does he want with you?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Shit. Weird kid huh.”

“Yup.”

“I think we should hear him out.”

“It's not like it can get any weirder at this point.”

“Yup.”

“Fancy a cuppa?”

“Hell yeah and whatever has not gone off in the kitchen.”

They walked into the lounge room to find the kid sitting on the couch like a frightened field mouse as awkward as hell and talking furiously it seemed with himself. The boy was a dreadful mumbler and it was hard to catch more than a few snippets, he quietened right up when he noticed he wasn't alone. Marion gave him a tight smile which he returned after a moment.

“We're just going to get something to eat and a cup of tea. Want a cuppa?”

She curled her nose. “Might do a bit of a clean too. Can you wait?”

Adrian looked to his left and back at her with a nod.

“Splendid. So tea?”

“Yes please.”

The two of them busied themselves around the kitchen cleaning some of the worst mould. Luckily they keep a few UHT milks in the pantry because the fresh stuff wasn't so fresh anymore. It was a pretty disgusting job, the smell itself was hard to withstand. They made some muesli that was still okay and sat down with their tea with one for Adrian.

“So I'm guessing your not alone, you know, apart from us?” Clarissa cut straight to the point.

The boy looked nervous, clearly everyone was feeling just as ridiculous. That was a good sign.

“Yeah, his name is Craig Kennedy and he's haunting my toe.”

Clarissa snorted into her tea in a fit of giggles. “Sorry..”

Marion didn't find it so amusing, the name rang a bell. An awful loud and familiar bell. The paper had glossed over it completely, leaving out the finer details of his death. Everyone close by had just known though and whispers had spread through the neighbourhood like flies. Now she knew this was all around the bend. How would the kid know? Name out of a hat? Maybe that hadn't been his name at all, she was beginning to wonder. The kid turned beetroot red and sent pleading eyes to the left and then at her. Time to take charge. She finished her tea sending serious looks back at Clarissa trying to tell her to cool it. Clarissa was too busy trying not to choke on her muesli.

“What does he look like?” Marion asked the question innocently enough.

“Wild kinda blondish hair, crazy blue eyes..sorry. Little spots of tissue on his chin, which is kinda...we..small. He's a got blue suit on if it helps... He says he remembers you as a kid, Marion.”

Clarissa almost spat her muesli out with a wild look to Marion for some kind of confirmation. Marion merely nodded her head slightly. He wasn't a guy you forgot easily. They sat down, do the verbal relay thing until Marion was properly convinced. Adrian started to relax somewhat but Marion could still feel tension in the room, it could be that slightly musty smell that still hung around the house. She'd light some incense but she knew from previous experience, it tended just to make the bad smell worse. They tried a couple of different methods to see if they could cut out the proverbial middleman but nothing worked, Clarissa still seemed pumped to have use of some of her old books. The ghost was truly attached to Adrian's foot in every sense. Poor kid.

“Okay, so he has a story to tell us? Better make a start, we'll order some overly westernised Chinese for lunch.”