Nicola Barker - Behindlings

Aren’t I?

‘Hooch warned me about you,’ Doc said, ‘but I didn’t…’ he shook his head, confusedly. A woman walked past them with a tartan shopping cart; one of the wheels was squeaking fiercely. He grimaced, ‘Because they’ve been keeping stuff back…’ he continued, doggedly, ‘and it’s not just the…’

His eyes were moving, from place to place, unfocussed, ‘It’s not just the confectionery thing. It’s bigger. And they won’t… it’s like they’re devouring him. Like the whole of the Following is gradually…’

Doc was visibly unravelling. Like an old reel of cotton. There. On the street. Right in front of her.

‘Oh God knows I was a bad father,’ he suddenly whimpered, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, ‘never had time for my boy. First it was the model replicas — the traction engines — but he was never remotely mechanical. Never. And then after Hilly passed…’ He was smiling, hopelessly. ‘The Following just… it just…’

He made a mushroom-cloud gesture with his hands, gazed at her imploringly.

‘Ballooned,’ Jo struggled to fill in.

‘No,’ he was definite.

‘ Exploded? ’ Jo tried again.

He shrugged. He let her have it. He moved on.

‘Wes was working with the crop circle people. Then it broadened out into that whole anti-pesticide thing.’ He turned — for no apparent reason — and began directing his words towards the pub noticeboard, which was hung on the wall directly to the right of him. ‘He wrote THIS IS POISON in the barley close to where I was living — a place called Bletchley — in huge lettering. And it was…’ he chuckled, ‘it was glorious. I went along to see it, just to take a quick… and that was the start. I was…’

He was quiet for a while, still gazing dreamily at Sky TV — Snooker — Home-Cooked Pub Grub Served Daily in chalk-effect paint.

‘It’s no coincidence,’ he murmured, ‘that the website’s gone down. They’re isolating him. They’re planning something.’

‘Who?’ Jo asked. She couldn’t help herself.

Doc didn’t appear to have heard her.

‘Doc?’ she said, gently.

His looked over, almost shocked by her being there, his eyes focussing in on the lapels of her coat. ‘I never had time for Colin…’ he mumbled, ‘Colin just wanted to join in. I should’ve made time for him, away from all of this… this…’ his eyes moved idly over her shoulder, then widened.

‘They’ve got my dog,’ he gurgled. Josephine gazed at him, stolidly.

‘They’ve got my dog, ’ he repeated, with rather more urgency. Jo turned around, slowly. A silver car was pulling across the lights, turning a lazy left. Inside it the guide — the young guide — on the passenger side, and another man — older — driving. On the young man’s lap sat the dog. He seemed perfectly at his ease there.

‘ Dennis! ’ Doc yelled, grabbing Jo’s coffee cup and throwing it at the car as it glided magisterially past them. Both men were smiling. The man driving lifted his hand off the steering wheel and waved as the coffee carton connected. The lid bounced off but there was precious little liquid left inside of it.

Doc tried to hurl himself at them, but he was blocked by railings, so he charged a sharp right, onto the crossing. The traffic was still moving. One car honked its horn. Another — a white car — braked sharply and veered into the neighbouring lane. A bike swerved, the rider struggling to stay upright by running his trainered shoe at high speed along the tarmac.

‘ Doc! ’

Jo sprinted out after him.

She could smell mbber, burning.

A second car sounded its horn. She grabbed his arm but he resisted. He was much stronger than she might’ve anticipated. He broke free and just ran –

He ran

— straight into the path of an oncoming mail van.

Two-three-five seconds later and –

Is this my fault?

Did I…?

Fuck

— everything had just… just…

Stopped

— and the grey stuff — the… the…

Tarmac

Its… Its… Its…

Hardness

The way he… he…

Jolted

The way it — the way…

The bounce

All his clothes… the way they’d… the way –

Shuddered

And it was only –

What was it?

Bumper –

Light –

Bonnet –

‘I am a…’ she gasped, ‘I am a qualified medical…’

A nurse

They all drew around him, like petals around a flower. She glanced up –

Where did they…?

— then she looked down again and loosened his collar.

They all drew back slightly.

A murmur

Blood

Corner of his lip

The pulse of it

The un-ex-purgated tick-tick-tick…

‘He’s bitten his tongue,’ she murmured.

Doc was still conscious, but not…

‘Take…’ he said, his eyes bulging wider. He put his hand to his pocket but everything inside it had flown out in the collision –

On impact…

Saliva…

A small pool of it on the…

Darkening

Someone had gathered all the discarded things together.

How long had it been already?

No time?

Forever?

A shoe –

Hat –

Dog leash –

Bus pass –

Wallet –

Pager –

Some

One

Good

Person

Had

Kindly

Done

That

‘It’s okay, ’ she said, ‘it was just a… it doesn’t look…’

He was staring past her, trying to shake his head.

There was a tiny –

A tiny…

— a tiny little nick on his ear.

The guide was suddenly there — ‘Oh shit. Oh my God …’ — bending over and gasping, ‘We only just found the dog, wandering around in the Charfleets. We were bringing it straight…’

‘Will everybody just move back… ’ she shouted.

She could see –

Just keep on breathing

She could see the beginnings of a cataract on his left eye. She was mesmerised by it as she squeezed his hand.

The dog arrived, pulling along the driver of the silver car who’d tied his belt around his neck in an attempt to secure him and was holding his trousers up — comically –

Funny

This isn’t funny

— with his other hand.

‘Dennis is back,’ she said, ‘Doc?’

‘Doc?’

The dog shunted its way forward and licked the Old Man’s neck.

The Old Man had closed his eyes.

She looked up. She saw the tennis player, holding a handkerchief over his face, staring down, amazed. He was talking to the man who ran the Bingo hall. He had his notebook out. Pen. Didn’t have enough hands.

The boy…

Patty…

Mugging dumbly in confusion, hugging himself with anxiety…

I am alone

‘Where’s Wesley?’ Doc had opened his eyes. He was panting.

‘It’s alright,’ Jo whispered.

‘No…’ Doc tried to turn his head, ‘you don’t… he needs… ’

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. She could hear sirens. ‘I’ll take care of him. Trust me.’

The traffic was still flowing past them –

Slowly

Quietly

With the minimum of disruption

— as she gently made her pledge to annihilate everything.