Black Rabbit Summer (14 page)

All I could feel was a sudden sickening fear.

I didn’t want to open my eyes then.

I didn’t want to see anything…

But I knew that I had to.

I opened my eyes and looked down.

I saw the ground at my feet, the cracked concrete path… that small grey world of stones and grit, asphalt repairs, insects and dust. I saw a trail of shallow brown puddles and rainy scuff marks leading up to Raymond’s gate. And at the foot of the gate, where the ground was dry, I saw blood.

There wasn’t very much of it, just a few scattered spots…

But blood is blood.

Its redness screams like nothing else.

And it was there…

Screaming its violence at me.

Christ, it was
blood.

It made me feel cold and small, like a child in an unknown place, and as I slowly looked up at the gate, something inside me switched off. I didn’t know what I was doing any more. I was just
doing it. And when I saw what was hanging on the gate, impaled on a rusty nail, I simply didn’t believe it at first. I
couldn’t
believe it. It had to be something else – a discarded glove or something… an old black T-shirt, scrunched up into a ball… or maybe the remains of a child’s soft toy.

But it wasn’t a toy.

Soft toys don’t bleed.

They don’t have flies buzzing round their eyes.

No…

I closed my eyes, hoping it would go away… but when I opened them again, Black Rabbit’s severed head was still there, still skewered to the gate, still dripping red in the rain.

Everything drained out of me as I stood there looking at that gruesome vision on the gate. I just couldn’t take it in. It was too out of place, too wrong. Too sick to understand. It was Raymond’s rabbit, his immortal Black Rabbit, but it wasn’t a rabbit any more. It wasn’t even a rabbit’s head. It was just a thing, a small black brutalized thing. Teeth, fur, bone, blood… rain and flies… a dead skull hanging on a rusty nail.

Oh God…

I looked down at the ground, breathing steadily, trying not to be sick. I was drenched in sweat now. My legs were shaking. And I could feel a hollow sickness rising in my belly.

Oh God…

I doubled over, clutching my stomach, and threw up.

My body felt a bit better after I’d been sick, but my mind was still numbed with shock. And I suppose that’s why I didn’t just turn round and go straight home. It would have been the sensible thing to do. Go home, get Dad, let him deal with the rest of it… whatever that might be.

But I wasn’t sensible.

I was
in
sensible.

I was just doing whatever I was doing, without even thinking about it.

There really wasn’t anything in my mind as I stepped up to the gate, averting my eyes, and nudged it open with my elbow. My head was empty. The garden was empty too. I paused in the gateway for a minute… two minutes… standing perfectly still, listening hard, staring through the gloom at the rain-soaked lawn, the muddy borders, the dripping bushes. There was no one there. Nothing that shouldn’t have been there. I took a deep breath, stepped through the gateway, and looked over at the garden shed. The door was open, and a few bits and pieces were scattered outside the doorway – an old spade, some blue plastic sacks, a roll of wire-netting. My rucksack was there too. But I didn’t wonder about that for long. Instead, my eyes were drawn to the rabbit hutch beside the shed… or, at least, what was left of it. It was smashed to pieces. Someone had ripped it apart and stomped it into the ground.

Just to one side of the ruined hutch lay the headless remains of Black Rabbit. His pitiful body was lying in a puddle – his neck gaping open, ripped and red… his sodden black fur darkened with blood.

One of his back legs had been hacked off.

I completely lost it then. Everything boiled up inside me – the shock of it all, the sickness, the fear – and I just started running. Down the garden, away from the horror, down to the back of Raymond’s house.

‘Raymond!’ I called out, hammering on the back door. ‘
Raymond!
’

I probably sounded like a madman or something, but I didn’t
care. I just kept thumping on the door, screaming at the top of my voice…

‘Raymond! Are you there? It’s me, Pete… Raymond?
Raymond! RAYMOND!
’

… until, eventually, I heard the clatter of an upstairs window opening, and a guttural voice called down from above.

‘What the
fuck’s
going on?’

I stepped back from the door and looked up to see Raymond’s dad leaning out of the window, glaring angrily at me. I’d obviously just woken him up – he was bare-chested, his eyes all bloodshot and sleepy – and he looked like he wanted to kill me.

‘It’s me, Mr Daggett,’ I called up to him, ‘Pete Boland.’

He squinted at me. ‘Whuh…?’

‘I need to see Raymond,’ I told him. ‘It’s really important –’

‘Raymond…?’

‘Yeah – is he there?’

‘Christ’s sake, boy… d’you know what
time
it is?’

‘Yeah, I know, I’m sorry –’

‘Go on,’ he groaned, waving his hand at me. ‘Piss off.’

‘No, you don’t understand –’

‘I’m not telling you again.’

‘He’s missing.’

Mr Daggett hesitated for a moment, rubbing his eyes. ‘Who’s missing?’

‘Raymond…’

‘What d’you mean –
missing
?’

‘I don’t know where he is,’ I said. ‘I mean, he’s probably not actually
missing
… but we were at the fair together, and we got split up… and I think something might have happened…’ I was getting all flustered now, trying to work out how to explain
everything. ‘His rabbit,’ I spluttered, pointing up the garden, ‘someone’s killed Raymond’s rabbit…’

I heard Mrs Daggett’s voice then, a faint and irritated whine. ‘What is it, Bob? Who’re you talking to?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Mr Daggett told her. ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘I can’t sleep with all that noise, can I?’ she snapped. ‘What’s going
on
, for God’s sake?’

‘It’s just some kid,’ Mr Daggett sighed, ‘wants to know where Raymond is.’

‘What kid?’

‘The one from up the road, you know… the copper’s kid.’

‘What’s he want?’

‘I just
told
you… he’s looking for Raymond.’

‘He’s not here.’

Mr Daggett looked over his shoulder at her. ‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, he’s not been in all night… probably out in the garden again. Come on, Bob, shut the window. I’m trying to get some sleep here.’

Mr Daggett turned back and looked down at me. ‘He’s not here.’

‘He’s
not
in the garden,’ I told him. ‘Someone’s been up there, someone’s smashed up the rabbit hutch and… no,
hold on.
’ Mr Daggett was starting to close the window. ‘
Wait
a minute,’ I yelled at him. ‘What are you
doing
? You can’t just… hey,
listen to me
!’

The window slammed shut.

‘Mr
Daggett
!’ I shouted.

The curtains closed.

‘Shit.’

I stood there for a few moments, staring angrily up at the window, wanting to scream and shout and
make
Mr Daggett
listen to me… but I knew it was a waste of time. He didn’t give a shit – about Raymond, about Black Rabbit, about anything – and that was that. There was no point getting angry about it, was there?

I turned round and started running again – back up the garden, past the carnage, through the gate, down the alley…

The rain was getting heavier again now, but I barely even noticed it. I was running on fear and anger. Up the street, through the front gate, round the back of the house, slamming open the kitchen door and breathlessly barging in…

‘Pete?’ said Dad. ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’

He was sitting at the kitchen table, a big mug of tea in his hand. He was shocked to see me, and I could see the sudden alarm in his eyes, but there wasn’t any panic in his voice. Just a calm and controlled concern.

‘It’s Raymond…’ I gasped, trying to get my breath back. ‘I think something’s happened to him… and his rabbit’s –’

‘All right,’ said Dad, getting to his feet. ‘All right, just calm down a minute, take your time…’ He came over and put his arm round my shoulder and guided me over to the table. ‘Sit down,’ he said quietly. ‘Take some deep breaths.’

I sat down, breathing slowly, trying to calm myself.

‘Are you all right?’ Dad said. ‘I mean, you’re not hurt, are you?’

I shook my head.

He sat down next to me. ‘Do you want some water?’

‘No… no, I’m OK, thanks.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah… I’m fine.’

Dad put his hand on my arm. ‘OK, tell me what happened.’

∗

I didn’t tell him everything, obviously. There wasn’t enough time, for one thing, and I honestly thought that most of what happened wasn’t really relevant anyway. But there was also a lot of stuff that I just
couldn’t
tell him about – the drinking and the smoking, all the weird stuff that happened, the thing with Nicole in the den…

I mean, he was my dad.

You can’t tell your dad everything, can you?

But I told him as much as I could: how Raymond had gone missing at the fair, how I’d looked for him everywhere, how I’d gone to his house and found his mutilated rabbit…

‘What time was this?’ Dad asked me.

‘Just now, about ten minutes ago…’ I looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was nearly quarter to seven now. ‘It must have been around six thirty.’

Dad nodded. ‘So, you saw this rabbit’s head on the gate… what did you do then?’

I told him about the smashed-up rabbit hutch and the remains of Black Rabbit, and how I’d woken up Mr Daggett and tried to talk to him.

‘And what did he have to say?’ Dad asked.

‘Not much…’ I shook my head. ‘He didn’t want to know, Dad. I tried to tell him about Raymond, but he just didn’t care…’

‘Did he check to see if Raymond was in his room?’

‘No… but I heard Mrs Daggett telling him that Raymond hadn’t been home all night.’

‘Were they expecting him home?’

‘I don’t know…’

Dad looked at me. ‘I thought you were staying the night at Eric and Nicole’s?’

‘Well, yeah… but I don’t know if Raymond was supposed to
be coming with me or not. I mean, Nicole didn’t actually invite him… and it didn’t happen anyway.’

‘What didn’t happen?’

‘The thing at Eric and Nicole’s…’

Dad frowned. ‘It didn’t happen?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know… I kind of lost touch with Eric and Nic at the fair, and then I spent hours looking for Raymond –’

‘So where have you been all night?’

I rubbed my eyes. ‘I went to Eric and Nic’s place, but there was no one there…’

‘And?’

‘I waited for them.’

‘All night?’

‘I fell asleep on the step.’

‘You fell asleep?’

‘Yeah, I was tired…’

Dad looked into my eyes. ‘How much did you have to drink?’

I shook my head. ‘I was just
tired
, Dad. It was late, I’d been walking round the fair all night…’ I looked at him. ‘What do you think we should do about Raymond? I’m really worried about him.’

Dad sighed. ‘I’m not sure there’s all that much we can do at the moment.’

I stared at him in disbelief. ‘How can you
say
that? We’ve
got
to do something… he’s missing, his rabbit’s been killed –’

‘We don’t
know
that he’s missing, Pete,’ Dad said calmly. ‘He could be anywhere…’

‘Like where?’

Dad shrugged. ‘With some friends –’

‘He hasn’t
got
any friends.’

‘He could be at home, for all we know.’

‘But he’s
not
… his mum said he hasn’t been home all night.’

‘I know, but we don’t
know
that, do we?’

‘He’s
missing
, Dad. You’ve got to
do
something…’

‘Just calm down a minute,’ Dad said, putting his hand on my shoulder. ‘I didn’t say I’m
not
going to do anything, but I can’t just report him missing because you don’t know where he is –’

‘Why not?’

‘Listen,’ Dad said, ‘let me go and speak to his parents and see what they have to say. All right? If Raymond’s not there, I’ll get them to report him missing, and then we can start looking for him.’

‘Yeah, but what if they don’t
want
to report him missing? You know what they’re like, Dad… they don’t give a shit about him. They never have. And what about his rabbit? I mean, can’t you just get forensics or someone to go round there and take a look at it?’

Dad shook his head. ‘Come on, Pete… you know I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s a rabbit…’

‘Yeah, I know, but someone cut its head off and hung it on the gate.’

Dad started to get up. ‘I’ll sort it out, OK? I’ll go over there now. Just let me tell your mum where I’m going first…’

As he shuffled wearily across the kitchen towards the door, I stared at the table, trying to work out how I felt. Of course, I was glad that Dad was doing something about Raymond, and
I kind of understood why he couldn’t do anything more… I mean, I
knew
it made sense to check things out first, and I
knew
the dead rabbit was only a dead rabbit… and maybe I
was
just worrying too much, jumping to stupid conclusions… maybe I was making a big fuss about nothing.

But what if I wasn’t?

What if…?

Dad was in the doorway now, and as I looked over at him and started to say something, his mobile rang. He took it out of his pocket, flipped it open, and put it to his ear.

‘Boland,’ he said.

I watched him as he listened, and I could tell by the look on his face that it was police stuff, something important.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘yeah, I know who she is… when was this?’

He glanced at me then, and there was something in his eyes that I didn’t understand – some kind of secrecy, or maybe suspicion.

‘Can you give me half an hour, sir?’ he said into the phone. ‘I was just about to do something… no, no, I understand… yes, of course… OK, I’ll be there in ten minutes.’