Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller (14 page)

“Vicky? You here? Are you
hiding?”

I kept shouting, though I knew
she wasn’t home. I kept hoping she would pop up from behind
somewhere, giggling and joking.

“Fuck!”

I ran out of the apartment,
clambering down the stairwell two at a time. I got to Sandy’s door
and bashed my hand against it until it opened up.

“Hey Davy! Where’s Vicky? Is she
here?”

“Mum says you’re crazy and not
to talk to you.”

Sandy came to the door, brushing
Davy aside.

“Sandy, have you seen
Vicky?”

“You’ve got a nerve coming here,
after what you did to my son. Breaking his toys and shouting at
him. Who do you think you are? You think that just because you’ve
got problems you—”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Look,
do you know where Vicky is? I can’t find her. Please.”

“Sorry I can’t help you.”

“Come on, Sandy. Please.”

“How should I know? Maybe she’s
gone out to play. She can’t stay cooped up in your flat all day,
Joseph. Let the poor girl grow up—”

I slapped my hand against the
door frame and left.

“It isn’t right!” Sandy screamed
behind me, and it echoed down the stairwell with me.

I ran around the block, scanning
every sidestreet I could. Any time I heard a voice, I ran towards
it. I retraced my steps back to the school and banged my fist
against the office doors. I knew it was useless, teachers rarely
stayed this late. It was over two hours after home time.

I sat on the steps and tried to
calm down but my thoughts raced to every bad thing I could imagine
happening. I swore at myself over and over, then swore at Vicky
over and over. I found myself running again, calling out her name
helplessly. Stopping anyone I saw and describing her in detail.

I stumbled down some high
street, puked in a doorway, and blacked out. I came to and saw an
old man’s face above me.

“You alright, son?”

“You seen my sister?”

“Your sister?”

I pushed him out of the way and
started running again. I stopped every parent with a kid and asked
the kid what school they went to. I ran back home and circled the
block again and again. Eventually a thought struck me, and I headed
for Josephine’s house praying continuously under my breath.

The lights were on and I thumped
my fist against the door as hard as I could. I thought about
breaking the door down but it opened. I shoved Monika to the side
as I burst in.

“Vicky! Vicky!”

I saw her in the living room,
holding her hair in a braid.

“Oh, Vicky!”

I threw myself at her and picked
her up, squeezing her as hard as I could.

“Big bro! Ah, ouch!”

“Where the fuck were you? I’m so
glad you’re ok. Are you ok? I told you never to leave school
without me. Why don’t you ever listen to me? Shit.”

Monika entered the room. I spun
around.

“You fucking stay away! I don’t
know what you’re doing, but I know your fucking type. Stay away
from Vicky or I swear I’ll kill you!”

“Joseph! Calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to calm
down!”

“What is wrong with you? Are you
on drugs? Sit down.”

“Fuck off! I know what you’re
doing. I know you want to take her from me! Over my dead fucking
body!”

“You’ve lost it, Joseph! You
really have lost it!”

“Let me down! You’re hurting
me!”

“Don’t worry, Vicky. Big bro
just needs to calm down.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,
Josie! She’s not yours!”

The blood rushed to my head.
Every cell in my body was filled with hatred, and it was all
focused on Monika. I lost all sense of rationality; felt the
overwhelming urge to completely destroy her. For the first time in
years I forgot my disability, forgot who I was, and threw my
phantom limb at Monika with all the energy my being could muster.
The lack of connection threw me off balance and I began to fall.
Vicky screamed, my head hit something, and then I blacked out.

The hottest night in
July. The air so thick it squeezed the sweat out of our naked red
bodies. Josie and I danced with our shadows in the flickering
yellow fires of the candles. Wiry guitar sounds strung themselves
up like sticky webs around the room. Brief snatches of a breeze
that came in from the black void of the open window made the flames
dance and the light moved around our bodies in orange tongues. She
splashed me with vodka and it burned against my skin; I chased her
with lipstick. We laughed and drank, the sweat falling off our
glistening hairs.

We danced and played
with candle wax for hours, never stopping but for a few brief, ugly
silent seconds when the music would end and Josie leapt to the cd
player to click play on the album again.

A moment passed, Josie
stopped dancing, and I stopped too. We looked at each other,
standing apart, our faces still. The fun and laughter gone,
replaced by some deep bond, some profound telepathy, more than
human. We simply stood and looked at each other, as if for the
first time unveiled, a conversation without words.

I was no longer myself,
I was inside her, and she inside me. Our beings opened up and
smashed together, with no definition between them. The dense mass
of our bodies drew us close together, circling each other. We
reached out and locked hands, and flowed through them.

She pulled my hand
towards her and pressed it against her stomach, her eyes
pleading.

It was dark when I woke up. Once
my eyes had adjusted to the light I found myself looking at a
familiar blue painting, thick brush strokes and elegant lines. The
last time I had seen it I had been resting my head on Josie’s lap,
in front of the TV. I turned one way, and made out the shape of the
TV in the darkness, turned the other, and saw nothing but the dark
brown texture of the couch. I touched my forehead, found a lump,
and a shot of pain went through my skull.

The couch was small and I was
lying awkwardly; my legs over the side and my head bent against the
armrest. I straightened out and sat up, knocking something over in
the process that clattered as it fell. A second later there was a
quick thumping of footsteps on the stairs. Then Monika appeared in
the doorway. She clicked on the light and I winced at the sudden
brightness.

“Where’s Vicky?”

“She’s sleeping in my bed. She’s
exhausted.”

I blinked a few times,
struggling to open my eyes. Monika dimmed the lights a little. I
saw the lamp I had knocked over and reached over to pick it up.

“Do you want something to drink?
Eat?”

“Just water.”

She turned and went to the
kitchen, leaving me to rub my bruise until I got used to the pain.
With a little effort I managed to recall the events that had
brought me there. Monika returned with a bottle of water and a
glass. I took the bottle and drank straight from it. She put the
glass and a pill packet on the table then sat down beside me.

“I brought you some paracetamol
too. In case you need it.”

“I don’t take painkillers.”

“It’s just paracetamol.”

I finished the bottle of
water.

“You got anymore?”

“Yeah, I’ll get you a big
bottle.”

She left to fetch the water and
when she returned I drank huge gulps from the bottle again.

“Are you hungry?”

“Did you take Vicky’s clothes
off before you put her to bed? She’ll wake up tired if you
didn’t.”

“She took her clothes off
herself.”

“Are you sure she’s sleeping?
She sometimes only pretends.”

“Trust me, she’s asleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Joseph. I was talking with
her when she fell asleep.”

I sucked down more water. It
felt like the most nourishing thing I had done in a long time.

“Why is she here, Monika?”

She sat down beside me and
looked me in the eye.

“Why weren’t you there to pick
her up?”

“Answer me.”

“I am.”

“Why did she come here, and not
go home. This is miles further from school than our house.”

“She waited for you for an hour,
Joseph. She got scared, so she texted me asking me to pick her up.
She tried to call you but you never take your phone out.”

“Scared. Right. More like she
wanted to come here and see what freaks you were hanging out
with.”

“What is your problem?
Seriously, what the hell has gotten into you?”

“Me? You’re gonna tell—”

“Don’t start that again, Joseph.
Get a grip. The world isn’t out to get you.”

I tried to speak but frustration
and my tiredness prevented words. I snatched the remote control for
the TV off the table and turned it on, flicking through channels
rapidly. I could feel Monika’s eyes boring into me.

“How long have you been texting
with her?”

“Honestly? Since I picked her up
from your place last week.”

“I knew it. I knew it.”

I put the control down, gulped
more water, and then returned to the TV.

“She’s scared, Joseph.”

“So she should be!” The words
left my lips without thought, “There’s a lot to be scared of in the
world. Better to be scared of everything.”

I found a channel showing an
octopus on the hunt, and left it there.

“She’s scared of you,
Joseph.”

“What?”

“She’s scared of you, and I can
see why. Look at you. You have a scar on your face, your clothes
are ripped and dirty, you always look like you’re going to kill
someone, and God knows where you were all this week. It seems like
Vicky spends most of her time on her own in your house. Shit, even
I’m scared of you right now.”

“You don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“No. You’re the one who hasn’t
got a clue. Honestly, when did you last speak to her? Just sit down
and ask her what was going on with her life? Did you know that
she’s trying to get a role in the Christmas play? That she has a
boyfriend at school? Just today she was telling me how she’s been
watching a lot of films, and wants to be an actress. Did you know
that?”

“She has a boyfriend?”

Monika rolled her eyes.

“Shit, Joseph. You’re
impossible. Really impossible.”

The octopus moved quickly and
elegantly, devouring a flailing crab.

“Look. I have a lot of stuff I
have to do now. The past few weeks have been tough for me. I will
finish this, and things will go back to normal.”

“Finish what?! Chasing your own
tail? Trying to convince yourself that Josephine didn’t kill
herself?”

“I’m not convincing myself. I
know she was murdered.”

“Sure. Don’t you see the
irony?”

“What irony?”

“You’re going crazy trying to
find out all these things about Josephine you didn’t know before
she died; and all this time you’re doing that, you’re missing out
on what Vicky is doing. It makes me wonder; why is there so much
you didn’t know about Josephine?”

“Enough. You’re beginning to
getting on my nerves.”

“Because you know it’s the
truth.”

“No. Because I don’t have the
energy to talk to idiots.”

“Are you only going to start
caring about Vicky if she dies, too?”

I turned to look Monika in the
eye. She looked away, shamefully.

“Sorry, that was a horrible
thing to say. I take it back.”

I turned back to TV. A school of
tropical fish were swimming amongst coral. Minutes passed. The
program went on to show dolphins hunting, shellfish fighting, and
whales breeding.

Once the program had finished
and I had begun flicking over again, I said:

“Are you just going to pretend I
didn’t see you yesterday then?”

“You mean, in the window? I
thought that was you.”

“Who else would it be?”

“You’re not the first person to
stare from the bus stop.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

I kept flicking through the
channels, almost unconsciously. After a minute of silence I
said:

“Well?”

“It’s complicated, Joseph.”

“It’s insane. That’s what it
is.”

“You wouldn’t understand. Just
forget about it.”

I switched the TV off and turned
to face Monika.

“What were you doing? Pretending
to be Josie.”

“Nothing, I mean… I don’t know.
Have you never wondered what it’s like to be someone else?”

“Of course not.”

“You have no imagination,
Joseph. No empathy.”

“I’m not crazy, that’s all.”

“I told you; you wouldn’t
understand.”

She grabbed the remote from my
hand and turned the TV back on, She browsed channels a lot slower
than I had. I kept watching her face for a few more seconds, then
turned back to the TV myself.

“Sometimes I hate the way I
look, Joseph.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it
again.”

“You’re a model. You know you’re
good looking. Don’t fish for compliments from me.”

“That’s exactly what I
mean.”

“What?”

“If I was average looking you
wouldn’t say that. You’d say ‘oh no, you’re beautiful, don’t hate
the way you look’. People always treat me differently.”

“Poor you. It must be so
difficult being attractive.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you
did that, though. Why don’t you just ugly up a bit if you don’t
wanna get attention? Why do you need to pretend to be Josie?”

Monika left the TV on a film
channel; a loud crime film that she turned the volume down on. She
grabbed the bottle of water from the table and took a sip.

“Josephine was ugly, but in a
really amazing way. All the time, people had such amazing reactions
to her, even when she first met them. Something about her drew
people in, like a kind of hypnosis.”

“Yeah. But that’s not her looks.
There’s more to life than looks you know.”