Origins of a Smile - Episode Five

1

The garden was finally calm. Joshua slumped to the floor in tears.

“Victor. My friend. My best friend.”

“I’m sorry; I realise now you two had been through a lot” said Barbara, trying to comfort the grief stricken corpse.

“I promised to remember that day. But over the years, in my loneliness, I started to forget the details. And then when I started hearing the whispers like Victor did, I thought -”

“You thought you had found someone like you. Your family.”

“I thought I wouldn’t be alone again.”

“I see now that you really were just a child when you found Victor and when he died, in your rage you became trapped: an eternal child.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you think it’s time now, Joshua? Time you went back home?”

“But I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone there again.”

“Your family are there somewhere. You won’t find them staying here.”

“But what if I have no family, what if I am all there is?”

“No I don’t believe that for a second, Joshua. Where did the name come from? If it wasn’t yours, it would have to be someone else’s. And if it was yours, there would have to be someone else to call it.”

“Yes you’re right. I’m too tired to fight any more. Maybe I can really find my family. That would be the greatest Christmas,” said Joshua, then looked to Betty. “Unless you’d let me hang around in your mind for a few days. I can show you a way.”

“I’m afraid not” said Betty.

The Eternal Child smiled.

“Then I guess it’s time to go.” He looked to Barbara. “Until the next time?”

A tremor passed through Jacob’s body, then it fell to the floor, lifeless.

“Not bloody likely” said Barbara as she brushed herself off and began to walk away towards the cottage.

“Is that it then?”

“Yes, come on. The garden will take care of the body.”

“Just one question” asked Christopher as he and the others followed Barbara.

“Isn’t there always?” 

“Joshua’s memory was a bit, I don’t know. Well it was weird, like a child’s story or something. I’m sure I even heard narration.”

“It’s the story of the Eternal Child” Barbara laughed. “How else do you think he would remember it?”

2

Back at the cottage, they all collapsed into the sofa and armchairs, mentally and physically exhausted.

“So that’s it, that’s finally it” said Christopher.

“All knots untied, all pieces in their place” said Barbara.

“Except” said David. “The small problem of a house on fire full of corpses. It will be on the news; the whole town will be asking. How am I going to explain all this?”

“Maybe you won’t have to” said Barbara. “How’s the tea coming along Betty?”

“Oh deary” said Betty rising out of her chair. “Right on it, the tray I did will be cold now. I think we deserve something special, don’t you.”

“I guess I won’t say no to a cuppa” said David. “But Barbara, you’ll have to come to the station after, and help me sort all this out.”

“Of course, I would be more than happy to help.”

Christopher smiled, saying nothing. Just quietly watched it all unfold.

Betty was quick to return with another tray.

“This one’s for you” she said, offering David the first mug. “Oh no wait it’s this one.”

“Does it matter?” said David grabbing the second offered tea and taking a big gulp.

“Or was it the other one?”

“This is beautiful Betty, absolutely beautiful. I bet you use leaves don’t you, not tea bags.”

Betty passed the other mugs out to Barbara and Christopher.

“This really is beautiful” said David, and he wasn’t lying. It really 

was the nicest tea he had ever tasted, just sweet and strong enough and without too much milk. It was so moreish, he couldn’t stop drinking it.

“Does anyone else notice how tired it’s getting in here?” he said.

“Sorry?” laughed Betty.

“No I don’t mean that, I mean, I mean-”

“Yes, I did give him the right mug” laughed Betty.

David’s head felt heavy, his vision had become rubbish and his mouth had stopped working. He couldn’t stop himself dropping forward until his head hit the table with a

BANG

David woke up with a start; he was in his car. Why was he in his car? Of course he was in his car. He must have dozed off. Where was he again? David looked out the windscreen; it was dark but he recognized the street. He was home. He must be tired, he thought, to fall asleep outside his own house. How embarrassing, David hoped no one had seen him.

“Right, you’ve obviously been going at it too much again.” David told his reflection in the small mirror. “Indoors and straight to bed for you, good looking.”

David noticed a mark on his cheek; it was sore when he touched it. Looked like a burn or something. He had no recollection of how he got it.

True to his word, as soon as David was indoors he took straight to the stairs and kept going until he reached his bed, which he promptly collapsed onto.

As soon as David’s head hit the pillow, he could sense it. He felt something strange but it was hard to put into words. It was almost like an unheard voice. It was felt rather than heard and it was saying 

“David, you came back to me.”

David instinctively opened his bed side drawer, and there it was, and how could he have forgotten? It was the Orb.

“Hold me” the Orb seemed to say, or so David felt, and he could not stop himself; it compelled him to do so, like it compelled him before.

As soon as David had it in his hands, the sphere began to slightly glow, like a pulse of orange light. And now that he held it, he could hear its familiar unearthly metallic voice in his head.

Hello Detective, there’s much we need to discuss

“Well you’re asking the wrong guy.”

You had Ms Huxley incarcerated?

“Yes, but I didn’t learn anything.”

What of the library? I compelled you to enter.

“What’s so important about this library and what is your obsession with those women?”

Don’t you want to know what happened the night your partner died, don’t you won’t proof that they are behind it?

“Yes I want the truth, but I’m not about to go on a witch hunt.”

You are not the first. Their filthy touch reaches far and wide. I do this in the name of all the lives they have ruined as they brush past onto their next adventure.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t help you on this one; I was out of the whole thing.”

Are you really that stupid, you were right in the thick of it, what is this, your sixth blackout now? And every time it’s after you’ve been near those women

“Don’t be ridiculous how could they do that? They’re just two old dears.”

They are far, far more, than just two old dears

“So you keep telling me, but where’s the proof.”

It won’t be long now. Just a few more pieces to place, then the trap will be set

“Don’t hurt them. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

I’m not interested in the physical pain any more, that revenge died out long ago. It’s their minds I’m going to attack, David. As it’s their minds they hold most precious

EPILOGUE - Christmas Day

Rose cottage garden had not let Christopher down yet and Christmas, it seemed, would be no different. The instant night fell, all the lanterns in the garden lit up and fresh snow lazily began to fall. Dotted around were tubby snowmen, all different sizes and differently dressed. Christopher even spotted robins flying about and the occasional Reindeer.  

However, it was what was at the centre of the garden that held Christopher’s interest the most. It was biggest Christmas tree he had ever seen. Hanging from every branch was a decoration, from a candy cane or lit candle, to a wooden soldier or decorative bauble. And beneath, not only were there presents of every shape and size all decorated with brightly coloured paper and bow, but a toy train on a toy track which ran around the entire base, genuine smoke chugging from its chimney.

“They’re not real presents you know” said Barbara, “just someone’s memory of presents.”

“Someone had a good Christmas; they're massive.”

“This present is real though” said Barbara offering Christopher a small soft package.

“But I didn’t get you anything, didn’t even think.”

“Just open it.”

Christopher began to rip the paper open.

“You see Christopher, there is one more reason, the most important reason, why I always carry my knitting gear.”

Christopher pulled the last of the paper off and unfolded his present.

“And that is of course, to knit.”

It was a long thick blue scarf.

“Oh I love it. Is this what you’ve been knitting this whole time?” David said, throwing the scarf around his neck.

“From the moment we met.”

Christopher noticed two words etched into the scarf at one of the ends.

HELLO THERE

“I really like it, thank you really, thanks.”

“Okay you don’t need to go on, it’s just a scarf.”

Barbara and Christopher, without even really realising it, had begun to walk around the garden.

“What a week” Christopher said.

“Two double funerals in two days; told you we could do it.”

“Peter and Adam’s was lovely. People said some really lovely things.”

“Unlike Victor and Jacob’s.”

“But there was only you, me and Betty there. And we buried them in the garden of their childhood home. It’s bloody scary there.”

“Betty seemed to think it was the right thing to do, and with these things she tends to be right.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“When don’t you?”

“When we were in the memory garden, I saw an image of you standing in the rain with blood on your hands.”

“Okay.”

“That was David’s memory wasn’t it. Whatever it is he blames you for in the past, that’s the image he holds onto.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

“But I don’t understand. Betty could make a tea strong enough to wipe that memory, I know she could.”

“You’re right she could and don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“Because I need him to remember it” replied Barbara. “David is a 

constant reminder of the mistakes I’ve made and he will never let me forget them. Because if I do, if I forget for even a moment the things I have done and the things I could do, that’s when I worry who I might become.”

“But Barbara you’re amazing. I know you make mistakes, we all do. We’re only human.”

“But that’s just it, I can’t. Most people’s mistakes can be easily sorted, believe me, Betty and I have been at this a long time. But if I make a mistake, that mistake generally changes everything.”

“You’re always too hard on yourself.”

“So people say.”

“Where’s Betty by the way?”

“She said she wanted to pay her last respects to Jacob and Victor, goodness knows why.”

“There was a lot more going on for Betty than the rest of us, and I don’t think she’s quite as tough as you.”

“I guess; she is more sensitive to certain things. Anyway enough about Betty and I. What about you, have you been back to your apartment yet?”

“No I can’t face it, not without Peter there. It’s just a place without him now, that’s all I’ll ever see it as.”

“Then stay with us for a while, be our guest.”

“Why does that make every hair on the back of my neck stand up?”

“Because it’s an important question, is it not?”

“I’m not sure. I need to think on it.”

“How about sit on it?” said Barbara pointing to a bench surrounded by snow.

Christopher looked at the bench and smiled.

“This is the bench Peter and I sat on the night we arrived.”

“Well go on, sit on it then.”

Christopher looked at Barbara, puzzled, then sat on the bench. He turned and looked at the spot where Peter had sat that first night.

And Peter was sitting there like he’d never left, still staring out into the garden.

“It’s strange” said Peter.

“What is?” said Christopher saying aloud the words he had almost forgotten saying.

“You and me, sitting here, never saw it coming” said Peter.

“I know what you mean, this place is unbelievable.”

“That’s not what I meant, but you’re right it is amazing. I think I could stay here forever.” Peter turned and looked into Christopher’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of the view.”

Christopher couldn’t hold back his tears now.

“Forever is a long time you know, I couldn’t do it. Don’t you think you’ll get bored?”

Peter looked back to the garden and laughed.

“Ah you'll stay with me for a bit, then come back and visit me whenever you want. We could sit in this very spot and simply enjoy the view. Or go out there exploring.”

*

At Victor’s childhood home, Betty stood all alone in the garden. She paid her respects to the two fresh graves in front of her then made her way inside the house, through all the rubbish and mess, and up the stairs to Victor’s bedroom.

Betty stood in the centre of the room and told Joshua it was time to go.

“Tell me before I go, how did you manage it? Keeping me in your body without me being able to control you?”

“It was easy, the moment you entered my body, I looked in your mind. I’ve learnt so much about myself in the process, this strange power I have and how to control it.”

“Clever.”

“I made a partition in my mind and body to trap you there so you could neither leave nor take control of me.”

“Yes, very clever indeed. But whilst you were rummaging around in my mind, I was in yours. The things I’ve seen in your mind, the things you’ve done...”

“That’s none of your concern now.”

“I know your secrets, Betty. I’ve been to the darkest corners of your mind and revelled in its majesty. I never knew, never appreciated what I was really up against. I never stood a chance. Because, you see, I know who you really are now. But perhaps most importantly, I know where you’re really from.”

“But you’ll never be able to tell; it’ll never leave this room.”

“I guess, and you won’t even tell them about our little pact since the garden, since they thought you turned me down?”

“No one needs to know. Now Joshua, you’re stalling. It’s time to go. You promised.”

“Very well, a deal is a deal” said Joshua finally. “And do you know what? In the end, if I was going to be beaten anyway, I’m glad it was you.”

Betty sensed Joshua was smiling, and then he was gone.

*

Back in rose cottage gardens, as the image of Peter faded away, Christopher got off the bench and stood up.

“So then, Chris” asked Barbara, “money where your mouth is time. Danger, excitement and adventure, what do you think? This is the last time I’m going to ask.”

Barbara offered out her hand.

“Be our guest?”

THE END

Huxley & Finch will Return

In...

Beneath the Mask