Mab of Dream

Here's the craic. I was sitting here getting really worried about Mike's wife, when I heard the flying theme from ET.

And nearly fell out of my chair.

I investigated. It's difficult to investigate sound when you have no direction of sound, but I walked around until it grew louder - which happened to be the stairs. I went down, opened the lounge door and there were the closing credits to the film, 'ET', on the telly. Playing a medley of the soundtrack.

Nothing untoward yet? Unless you're me. Here's another bit of information - I'm deaf. With both my bedroom door and the lounge door shut, I CAN'T HEAR THE TELLY! There's the first question mark. The second involves the tune itself and Warriormail Mike.

Years ago, I wrote a novel and I reached one part where it had been doom and gloom for chapters, so I needed to lighten it a bit, just to give the reader a break. It was the kind of book where you just couldn't introduce a clown and some can-can girls, so the lightening up might not look much out of context, but it was. I write with classical music or film soundtracks playing on my headphones, as they are good at creating mood. I scutted through my CDs and found 'The Flying Theme' from ET and played that on repeat, whilst writing this scene.

Fine, that tune means to me lightening up, there's a light side in the middle of the darkness. BUT the character who does the lightening up is a mechanic and he reminds me a lot of Warriormail Mike. Once, I sent this scene to Mike, when he was depressed, and told him about all that. He also found 'The Flying Theme' and was a bit put out when I said that now, by implication, that tune will always remind me of him. However, about a month later, he told me that he'd had a bad day and was scutting through his CDs, found 'The Flying Theme' was still there and played it. It cheered him up, because he was a character in a book, who caused the happiness in the darkness. It became a bit of a standing joke between us.

Ok, there are holes the size of a Sherpa tank in this story, and I realize that this as evidence of communication from the other side wouldn't stand up in a court of law. But it stands up in my head, whether that's psychological or not.

Here's the scene:

The front door opened and crashed shut. Liam paused in the process of turning the key in his car’s lock, listening to the running footfalls coming closer. He expected Theresa, but it was Cassie. She pulled her coat fully on and faced him, her tone confrontational,
“Can I come with you?”

The question caught him off guard. They were siblings and he’d do anything for her, if she was in trouble, but their relationship had never been like this. Theresa or Kian, sometimes even Connor, he socialized with, but if he spoke to their Cassie, it only tended to be in passing; if they had a drink in the Swan, it was part of a larger group. He blinked and shrugged,
“If you want to.” He wondered what they could possibly talk about. “Do you know where I’m going?”

“Pinton. I heard you ask Theresa if she wanted to come for the ride.” She appeared to be slightly breathless, unsure.

Liam opened his door, then looked back at her over the roof,
“One condition,” he smiled, conveying ease, but he meant it, “no ghost stories, no predictions and no freaking out.” He bit his tongue against the last, yet if she took offence and stayed, it meant he needn’t be afraid of what she’d say in front of those unused to her.

She replied,
“It’s a deal.” Then more prickly, “I behaved myself at the garage earlier, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” He ducked below and unlocked the passenger door for her before starting the ignition. “Anna gone home then?”

She didn’t answer until they were nearing the end of their long driveway. Her eyes remained trained on the dashboard,
“No.”

“So why are you coming to Pinton with me?”

“She’s with Conor.”
“Conor’s been looking for you.”

They were out into the lanes, the forest was ever closer. They would skirt its borders, but not enter it, not unless Liam chose the scenic route through Ducker’s Pass and it was too dark for that.

“Cass?”

“Yes?”

“You seem preoccupied.” Liam dug into a pocket for cigarette papers and a small tobacco tin. “Skin up then.”

She seemed grateful for something to do, it distracted her gaze from the dark trees looming on their left. They passed the next mile in silence, until Liam could stand it no more.
“Ok, time out! One question, then I’ll leave you be. Are you in trouble?”

Cass hesitated, before answering firmly,
“Yes.”

“Right… can I help you?”

“No.”

Liam nodded, burning to know,
“Ok. You know where I am if I can help.”

There was actually pride in her voice as she responded warmly,
“I know… thank you.” It was as if he had already won his spurs in her reality. “Shall I spark it up?”

“Of course.” He handed her a lighter, but she was already using her own. This was their Cassie, he had forgotten, the sister who smoked more cigarettes daily than the rest of her family put together. “Is it money?”

Cassie laughed and it startled him. He couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed in his company. There wasn’t even irony in it.
“I thought you weren’t going to ask questions.”

“Sorry.”

She took a deep drag before answering,
“It’s not money. I’m skint, but I’m a student. We’re always skint.”

“What do you actually study?” It stunned him that he didn’t already know.

“Philosophy and Film Studies.”

Liam frowned slightly,
“Useful stuff then. Film Studies? Does that mean you get to sit around all day watching films?” Cassie nodded, relaxing with every mile put between them and the village. Liam considered it. “So what’s Philosophy?”

“Talking about the colour orange for an hour, then skipping the seminar to go to the bar.” She added authoritively. “Naturalistic fallacy.”

“What is?”

“The colour orange. You can’t describe it to a blind person without describing something else first. You can’t say, it’s the colour of an orange and stuff like that.”

“Oh.”

“Has that clarified things for you?” She offered her elder brother the spliff.

“Absolutely.”

Cassie sat back, becoming noticeably happier still once the forest fell away from even the mirror’s reflection.
“Conor studied Music and Film Studies.”
“Recurring theme there.”

“Anna’s doing English. Our Sophie’s got a History degree and something ending in ‘…ology’, but isn’t archaeology, as an MA, and I think she’s still doing her doctorate. Maria’s…”

“I know. I just didn’t know what you and Conor do… precisely…”

Cassie smirked, then sighed,
“It’s usually best not to try with me and Conor. He’s officially insane and I’m on another planet to you lot.”

Liam gagged, recovering himself in a gasp of coughing,
“Bloody Hell, Cassie!” He glanced at her sidelong. “You know that folk don’t know what to make of you then.”

“Oh! They do! I’m either mad or lying. I must be hard work for you lot.” It was all said contentedly, as if the world was running smoothly and Heaven was in its allotted place. “But I make them think and it’s me they come to when weird shit happens.”

“No, I think you’ll find it’s me, Theresa and Connor. If only to find out what you’re on.” Liam sensed a shifting in the mood, a revelation. This was not a conversation he ever envisaged having with his sister. He never believed that she had understood or if she did, whether she would simply crack under the weight of world opinion. Even Conor had once said he feared her suicide if she ever knew how the majority viewed her. “Doesn’t it bother you, folk thinking you’re out of your tree?”

“Not really.” Cassie meant it. “I tried conforming once. I was shit at it.”

Liam laughed so hard he nearly dropped his spliff,
“Here… I like it!”

“Short-term, they give you grief. Long-term, they come to me and they’ve always thought about it. I’m not preaching a dogma, I’m just trying to… I don’t know what I’m trying to do. I just am.” She blew to set alight a rogue piece of cigarette paper. “I want to make them look beyond their petty lives.”
“Petty?” Liam raised his eyebrows.

“You know what I mean! The supernatural is only what we haven’t explained away yet and we will. If folk meet me halfway, I will compromise, but I can’t be dismissed. I can’t deny everything I see, hear and know, just so everyone else is more comfortable. It wouldn’t be fair on myself and I’d be miserable.” She took another drag as he assimilated all she had said. Then she added, “A ‘compromise’ which involves me shutting the fuck up would only be fair if, say, the whole village agreed to deny the existence of the colour green – not mention it, not even think about it. They may see it all they like and I may see my ghosts and hear my voices and we can all sit around not mentioning any of it.”

Liam accepted the spliff back from her. They were at the Pinton junction, though the town itself still lay fourteen miles on.
“You’ve surprised me.” When she didn’t comment, he was forced to elaborate. “I’ve always assumed you were too wrapped up in yourself to see our reality.”

“No, I see it.” Cassie was truly settled into the journey now, lighter than he’d ever know her. “It just doesn’t interest me. You all go on about love and work and boyfriends and girlfriends and children and you think that’s it. You say you’re happy and half the time you’re moaning or arguing or crying.” A wry smile grew. “I think you’re all lying when you say you’re satisfied… or you’re mad.”

Liam didn’t rise to the bait, but he seized the opening,
“If we’re all lying, why don’t you lie too? We can all be in denial then.”

“I thought I was already lying.” A rabbit was caught suddenly in the headlights. She gasped, but Liam swerved and missed it.

“No, you’re just mad.”

“Huh-huh.”

Liam glanced at her. She was smirking.
“Except you’re not, are you?”

“No comment.” She flipped a cigarette between her lips.

“Why not?”

She lit it,
“Because I’m not lying and I’m not mad, then anything else I have to say is strictly prohibited.”

“But it’s fine in the middle of the Swan?”

“Yes.” She appeared so happy that Liam could barely believe this conversation was taking place, like their lives were a film fitted with the wrong soundtrack. “No ghost stories, no predictions, no freaking out. Has our Maria found anywhere to have the wedding reception yet?”

“God knows! Was that your attempt at sane conversation?” The first lights of Pinton were appearing down below. “Maria’s wedding reception?”

“Told you I was shite at it. How about Angie being pregnant again then? The Wysbarn dynasty goes on!”

“I know. It’s cool. Go on, you’re getting better at it.”

Cassie giggled,
“Ermm… I don’t know! You start me off!”

“Nice weather we’ve been having.” Liam grinned. Her giggles became engulfing, so deep they were silent, contorting her features as her frame shook with mirth. Liam couldn’t help but laugh too. “It wasn’t that funny!” Which set her off again. “I’ve got another one. Are you listening?” He waited until she attempted to settle and said, seriously, “they’ve forecast snow.”

Tears rolled down Cassie’s cheeks and her cigarette dangled languidly between her fingers. Liam was amazed to find himself enjoying her company like this, with his strange, intense sister letting go. They entered Pinton.