Campion's Choice

Jack’s world snapped back into place. He was in his bedroom and the music on the phone had stopped. The cat purred. What had happened? Whatever happened it felt real. It felt like he was in the cold, standing in a street, watching splashes of wolf’s blood stain fresh white snow. And the way people dressed? All Romeo and Julietty?

Outside his window the warm evening sky was a dirty pink. Had he fainted or suffered some kind of a fit or even seen a vision?

The Dadster’s old phone was in front of him and there was a single blue icon on the screen that looked like a pebble being dropped into water.

Jack spun around in his seat to make sure the Dadster hadn’t suddenly been cured and decided to celebrate with a brilliant practical joke. No. The room was empty.

For a second his hand hovered uncertainly over the phone until finally he tapped on the blue icon.

The photo he had taken of Lettie, the Dadster, Grampus and his Mum appeared on the phone screen. It jumped about a bit, went blurry and then started to change. Everyone came to life and started to move around the kitchen.

It was like watching a juddery, silent film. His family were all there acting out the lemon mousse mishap.

‘This is amazing,’ Jack said out loud.

As he watched Lettie banged her spoon something struck him: she looked unhappy.

Maybe he wasn’t the only Campion kid who was miserable? Maybe she wondered why the Dadster had stopped talking. Maybe she wondered why her mum abandoned the house and went back to work. He tapped the phone screen twice and the film began to speed up.

‘This does not compute,’ he said nervously to the cat.

He suddenly felt very, very shaky. What was happening was impossible. He had only taken still pictures. He had not taken a movie.

On screen his mother zipped in and out of the kitchen. Grampus skidded around. One quick tap slowed things back to normal speed and, after a bit of fiddling, the sound came up on the phone. Jack’s mum was talking to Grampus.

‘I’ve tried to get in touch with my dad, to see if he can help with the money, but he’s just not answering. Jack said he sent a limo, to the school today, with a painting of a naked lady in the back. I guess that’s better than the trapeze artist he sent last year. The one who sang Happy Birthday, to Jack, in the playground. Remember that? He was so embarrassed. Ever since my mum died, Dad has lived in a world of his own.’

‘Well, you know, you can all move in with us. We could renovate the Old Bakery.’

Grampus looked at his watch before adding, ‘Speaking of which, I have to get home.’

‘Did I ever tell you that, when they found Brendan, on the night of the accident, his wedding ring was missing. And before the accident, for a couple of weeks, he was really agitated. It’s the kind of thing men do when they’re having an affair,’ Kimberley Laight said, her voice close to tears.

Grampus strode across the room, hugged his daughter-in-law and kissed her cheek.

‘Look, Kim, Brendan was agitated because he couldn’t get his stupid programme or App thingy to work. The ring is just a coincidence. How many rings has he lost since you got married?’

‘Four or five,’ Kimberley Laight admitted with a shrug.

Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mobile phone. He watched as Grampus walked to the kitchen doorway and shouted, ‘See you tomorrow, birthday boy!’

There was a pause and, as Jack watched the screen, a hesitant answer finally came floating out of the phone in front of him.

‘Bye Grampus,’ the voice said and then, after a moment’s silence, the same voice, Jack’s voice, added, ‘Thanks for the trousers.’

Jack put his finger on the phone screen and held it down. The film stopped. His heart was in his mouth.

He listened. He waited. Down below he heard a shout.

‘See you tomorrow, birthday boy!’

Jack jumped up and ran to the top of the stairs.

‘Bye Grampus,’ he began and hesitated before saying, ‘Thanks for the trousers.’

The back door slammed. A car engine started. Jack ran to the window at the end of the landing and watched as Grampus drove away.

His mind went blank. Everything felt numb and paralysed.

Very slowly his brain began to whirr back into life.

The only pictures taken were still pictures. But somehow the picture he took turned into a movie. Impossible! But it happened. He had heard his granddad call up the stairs before his granddad called up the stairs!

With a lump in his throat and his lips feeling dry Jack thought that only one thing made sense.

The blue icon on the phone must be some kind of App that could bring photos to life. No. It was even more than that. The App on the phone let you look into the future.

Could it do anything else?

Jack tapped again on the blue icon and immediately Lettie’s picture judder into life. Tapping twice made things speed up. Holding your finger down stopped the movie.

Okay. So, what did three taps do?

Tap, tap, tap. Things on the phone screen stopped and then began to rewind. Everything went into reverse. Presents got wrapped up again, wine jumped from a glass and back into a bottle. Grossly, Lettie regurgitated her yellow goo back up onto a spoon.

When it got to him walking backwards out of the kitchen carrying the pizza, Jack pressed down on the phone screen and switched off the film.

There was only one answer. This App turned a phone into a time machine.

It felt like his brain was overloaded.

With one picture, taken in any place, and using this App you could look at what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future.

Jack snatched up the phone. This made everything simple. This would make everything better.

He had to go downstairs and tell his mum what had happened. Their troubles were over. Money? No problem. He could take a snap, predict the winner of the lottery and make their fortune. Fixing the Dadster? Easy. All he had to do was grab a photo, where the accident happened, tap on the app and show the doctors exactly what happened to the Dadster. Then they could fix him.

Jack did a jig, punched the air and went to slip the phone in his pocket but stopped. The ban liang was stuck tightly to the back of the phone case like a fridge magnet and it was a real effort to lift it off even with a fingernail. Maybe the ban liang was magnetic?

Well, it made sense to put that in one pocket and the phone in the other.

As he did this another thought made him hesitate. Wouldn’t it be better to ‘show’ his mum what had happened? Why waste time? Why not just fix things right now?

He ran down the stairs and sprinted past the living room door.

‘It’s getting late! Where are you going?’ his mum shouted.

Jack ignored her.

He had to find the place where his dad had the accident and take a picture.

When he stepped through the front door and closed it, there was the Dadster, standing on the front lawn looking puzzled and surrounded by that strange glow. Perhaps it was something new his mum was putting in the washing machine?

‘Dad! I’ll be back! I’ve got this amazing thing to show you.’

Jack ran to the edge of the garden, lifted the phone and stood in front of a low wooden fence. He had to stay calm. Just because the Dadster was hanging around pretending to be a firefly, it was no time to stop and stare.

But, there was no point just rushing off if it was too dark to take pictures. To test the light he pointed the phone down the road and took a snap. In that direction there was a thin, smartly dressed woman and a boy with a mass of golden curly hair. They were standing either side of a long and sleek, dark green, Jaguar. Jack checked and the picture was nice and clear. The boy looked like a Christmas card cherub, or a Cupid without a bow. Good. The light was fine.

He was looking at the phone when he heard two noises.

Fffffftttthrrrrp.

Stttissshth!

Jack felt a blow, against the side of his head. It was like being struck with an iron bar. It felt like his skull had been cracked in two.

‘Owwwww!’

He staggered. For a split second his sight wavered. He struggled to stay upright. His ears rang and his nerves jangled.

‘Did you hear that, Dad?’ he shouted but, when he turned, the Dadster had disappeared.

Blinking against the pain, Jack looked across the road. The curly haired boy, by the Jaguar, was waving a fist at the thin woman. She had something in her hand, something she shoved quickly into a large grey shoulder bag. The way the two of them opened their mouths wide meant that they had to be shouting but Jack couldn’t hear a word they said.

The odd couple stopped shouting and jumped into the car. In a puff of blue smoke the Jaguar skidded off down the street.

Jack gingerly turned his head and watched. The Jaguar, like a getaway car, hurtled down Fen Street and, without slowing, it flew around a left bend into Orchard Avenue.

Funny. At that speed you would have thought you would hear the sound of screeching tyres.

Jack sniffed. The air smelt of burning rubber.

Still dizzy he banged in through the front door and was heading towards the downstairs toilet to splash water on his face when his mum called out.

‘What was all that noise? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. It’s late and it’s school tomorrow so you should go to bed. Come in here and say goodnight.’

Jack’s ears still rang as. It felt like his whole body was twitching. He was surprised to see that both hands were steady. The shaking must only be on the inside. After putting the phone on the small table in the hallway he slowly walked into the living room to join his mother.

Up on the wall, on the big screen TV, a man was pointing to a map of the night Rashpal.

‘Look, Jack, I’m really sorry ..’ his mum started to speak but the phone rang. She picked it up.

‘Yes? Yes. Hold on.’

She put a finger on the mute button and said, ‘It’s a girl. Tia someone or other? She wants to speak to you.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. But it’s very late. I’m glad you have a girlfriend, it’s nice for you, but this is not the time to be taking phone calls.’

Jack grabbed the phone.

‘I don’t have a girlfriend,’ he hissed to his mum.

He then put the phone to his ear and said, ‘What?’

‘Jack? Did you get my present? The blade? I’ve got one too. I saw them on this film and thought they looked really cool. We could wear them by putting the pin on our school badges,’ Tia said.

‘I’m not wearing a stupid badge!’ Jack said and added, ‘I don’t want to get into trouble.’

‘It’ll be dead cool. Did you like my card?’

Jack hesitated. He was about to say ‘no’ but he knew it would be rude so he chose, ‘It was very thoughtful.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Look, I’ve gotta go. My mum’s giving me these dead evil looks and it’s late. Give my love to your mum,’ Jack said. He nearly fainted at the words. Give my love to your mum? Where did that come from?

‘Gotta go. Bye bye.’ He cut off the call.

Bye bye? What was he? Three years old?

His mum patted the empty space on the settee by her side so he reluctantly trudged over and slumped down on the big, bouncy, leather cushions. His ears hurt. His head still felt scrambled and he had to concentrate to hear things clearly. He watched his mum’s lips as she spoke.

‘I know you think that only your dad likes you being a bit crazy and that I’m Mrs Killjoy but I’m glad to see you running around and enjoying yourself. I’m sorry for not getting home earlier tonight to make more of your birthday. Thirteen is a very important age. I know you didn’t want a party, but, just because your dad can seem to be a bit off-putting, you shouldn’t stop inviting your little friends round to play.’

Little friends? Jack swivelled on the seat. The leather made a squelchy sound and before he could complain his mum took a sip of wine and carried on talking.

‘I’ve let you down. I did my best. We all did. But it’s just too much. You’re not stupid. You’re old enough and can see that things are tough. And it’s too much for Nance and Grampus. One, or both of them, has to stay over here most nights. It’s not fair and it’s ruining their lives. Things have to change.’

‘But Grampus is a doctor! He likes looking after dad.’

’He was a doctor. Now he’s retired. And he’s old. And it’s impossible to know what your father is thinking but he would not want to be a burden on his parents.’

Jack had never seen his mother look so miserable.

‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine,’ he said as he got up and turned to leave the room. At a glance he saw that the small table in the hallway was empty.

‘Where’s the phone?’

It had disappeared. Jack hunted up and down the long, narrow corridor.

‘What’s the matter?’

His mum drifted over to the hallway to stand by his side.

‘It’s gone. The phone. The one you just gave me. It was here two seconds ago.’

His mum went into the kitchen and opened the fridge to refill her glass.

‘I should think your dad took it. He probably thinks it’s still his. It might take a while before he gets used to you having it.’

‘Can you please go and get it from him!’ Jack pleaded.

Kimberley Laight walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘No matter how much Ginseng I take I feel very tired and very old. I will find the phone later.’

‘But I need it now!’

Somewhere in the house something crashed to the floor. Seconds later Lettie began wailing.

‘Oh, great. I just got her off to sleep. What has your father done now?’

Much to Jack’s annoyance his mother rolled her eyes and headed off to track down her husband.

‘I have to have the phone now, mum. I’m doing something for the family,’ Jack begged.

His mum stopped, closed her eyes and clenched her fists. When she spoke it was like someone who wanted to shout but was trying to be very patient.

‘You will just have to wait. I have to find your father and probably clear up whatever he’s broken. Then I have to settle your sister down. Then I have work to do. I have a big case tomorrow and I’ll probably be up most of the night. Whatever you’re doing, I’m sorry but it’s just not that important. I promise the camera will be in your rucksack in the morning.’

She leant over and gently kissed him.

‘Goodnight,’ she said and added, ‘And please, before you put it in the laundry basket, wash that blood off your shirt.’

After stomping up the stairs Jack stood in the middle of his bedroom.

‘Not important! I’m only going to save everyone from everything,’ he fumed. He pulled the ban liang from his pocket. A cool wave rolled through his body.

‘Ok. Fine. It’s just one night. After school, tomorrow, I’ll go and take a picture of where the Dadster got hit. Then I’ll show it to Mum when she gets home. And then we’ll see what is and what isn’t important and who is and who isn’t saving the Campion family’s bacon.’

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror he noticed that there were small red stains on his cheek and ear. There were more dark brown spots splashed across his Batman t-shirt. It certainly looked like blood. He twisted his head from side to side to check that he was okay but there were no cuts or grazes. So it wasn’t blood. No way. It was probably pizza sauce.

After dumping the t-shirt and brushing his teeth Jack flopped into bed. One last thought came as he closed his eyes. Where did all the pain in my head go?

He fell asleep with the ban liang on a thin silver chain around his neck.

A door slamming somewhere woke him out of a deep sleep. What now? The bedside clock said it was only eleven o’clock.

He moved, bleary-eyed, over to the window.

Down below, the scarecrow figure of his dad, the bumbling, stumbling, empty man, moved in rickety steps across the front lawn. The Dadster stopped in the moonlight and shook his head.

He must have escaped and gone walkabout. He did that when he was disturbed.

Only one more night to wait, Jack thought looking at the skeletal figure on the lawn below. Tomorrow I’ll fix everything. He was still watching when the Dadster’s tracksuit bottoms fell down and settled, in the moonlight, around bony ankles, like a puddle of dirty water.

When his mum hurried out, still in her work clothes, to usher the thin man back in the house Jack threw himself onto his bed and slipped right back into that dead sleep.

He couldn’t believe it when, around midnight, he was woken for a second time by flashing lights. Orange and yellow beams blazed across his bedroom wall. He was sure a spaceship had landed in the front garden.

Great, this is it. Aliens have come to take me away.

Nee Naw, Nee Naw, a siren wailed.

Staggering for the second time to his bedroom window he saw four of five police cars. They were next door, blocking the drive to Mister Phillips’ house. An ambulance rolled noisily along Fen Street.

Strangely the orange and blue lights gave the whole road a party feel.

Jack turned away. He closed his eyes and fell back onto the bed. The ambulance siren died away. What a birthday, he thought, as he clung to the ban liang and, this time, drifted happily into a peaceful and uninterrupted sleep.