It all began when John was 8. He was hiding in a cupboard, motionless and silent, when
the door opened. His father looked straight ahead at him,
but then swore and slammed the
cupboard door shut. John was spared another beating that
day.
An only child, John
came to learn later in life that his dad was an alcoholic and John had
come off lightly compared to his abused mother. Thankfully,
things looked up when John’s
dad left home to start a jail term long enough to give John
and his mother the chance of a new
life elsewhere. And so, they came to Norwich, far away from
their old and dismally violent
connections with Glasgow.
11-year-old John was in
the primary school playground one day, when he saw trouble
heading in his direction. He hadn’t meant to cross Brown. He
wouldn’t be so silly when
Brown was much bigger and stronger. John was only too aware
of Brown’s reputation as a
schoolboy who often answered with his fists. Brown was
regularly disciplined at school but
that was no consolation and no help in the here and now.
John ran. He tried to get round to
the far end of the building but just wasn’t quick enough. He
backed into a wall as Brown
advanced. There was no escape. Brown was a mere two metres
away when he had a double-
take. He shook his head looking perplexed, turned round and
walked away. It was just
extraordinary. Didn’t make sense at all. Luckily for John,
the following day was the very last
day of the school term. Brown would not be sharing the same
secondary school.
#
The fair was in a
field just to the north of the city boundary. “Let’s try it for a laugh” He
may have been christened Michael, but he was always ‘Mike the
Fist’ as far as John was
concerned. That punch which flattened the worst school bully
had earned Mike fame
throughout the whole secondary school. At 17, and nearly a
full year younger than his hero,
John felt fortunate to have Mike as his friend and protector. Together they went inside the
tent, eager to learn what the future held for them.
The fortune teller
was an elderly woman with what seemed to be two multicoloured
scarves around her head. The table was covered in a tattered
ex-billiard tablecloth, or so
it appeared to the two lads. She promised Mike a wealthy
career and long life. When John
sat down and laid his hands on the table, as instructed, the
woman suddenly looked as if she
had seen a ghost. She moved forward and grabbed John’s
hands. “Take care. Take care. It’s
a precious gift. You must take care.” John was stunned. Mike
intervened, asking the obvious
question. “I can’t say. I must not say. You must discover
for yourself,” came the perplexing
reply.
The boys were polite
enough to leave without making a fuss. “Bet she says that to every
second customer, hoping for return visits,” Mike suggested
cynically. Mike knows a lot more
than me, so he’s probably right, thought John, although he
wasn’t entirely convinced.
Only a few weeks
later in 2000 the two friends saw the newly released film ‘Hollow Man’
in a local cinema. Clever Mike had managed to arrange
for John’s admission, even though
he was still only 17. “Wow. Fantastic power, being
invisible” commented Mike, as they
exited. John agreed excitedly and began to ponder to
himself.
John didn’t say
anything to his best friend in the days which followed – Mike would only
have laughed at him. It was ridiculous to contemplate.
Nonetheless, he started to wonder
seriously if there was a link between that time his drunken
dad didn’t see him in the
cupboard, and the lucky escape from Brown in the school
playground.
If there was a
connection, what could it be? John took the small vanity mirror from his
mother’s room, making sure he was not discovered. He stared
ahead, in the privacy of his
own room. There was no magic here. He could see his
reflection as plain as day. Then he
remembered what his Uncle Richard had given him for his 6th
birthday. Not the toy, but the
extra present. Uncle Richard had always been kind to John,
who treasured the little extra.
When his uncle asked John to keep it a secret, he was happy
to do so. Made it feel important,
The old key didn’t
look like much, but it meant a lot to John. He never lost sight of the
key. John reached into his pocket and felt for the key. He
looked in the mirror. He wasn’t
there!! Nothing at
all – even his clothes had disappeared.
Numerous
experiments followed. John didn’t trust anyone with his secret, not even
his
best friend Mike, far
less his mother. He knew that once the cat was out of the bag his new
power would be
shared, if not taken away from him altogether. He couldn’t allow that to
happen. John had to
find out exactly how the key worked. How long did it work for? How
exactly was it
switched on, and how exactly was it switched off? Did it always mask what
John was wearing,
even the shoes?
It
took John nearly three weeks to find answers to all his questions about the
magical key.
He survived one
awkward moment when his mother returned home unexpectedly. A close
shave, but his secret
remained secure. John was confident that he could work the key at will.
When his skin touched
the key his invisibility was assured, until he touched the key again.
The key would not
work if John wore a glove. That knowledge led John to keep the precious
key in a safe place
by using gloves. His mother knew the house like the back of her hand but
John was certain that
the key was safe at the back of the top of his wardrobe.
For
John, the next step was to decide how the key could help him. He wanted money.
He
loved fast cars. He dreamed
of having his favourite, an Aston Martin! But how would he get
the money, and how
would he explain how he came by the money? Being found out was the
last thing he wanted.
At first John thought that a bank robbery would be ideal. He would have
to use a disguise to make
the teller believe his threat. His special power would be particularly
helpful in assisting
his getaway and would give ample time to successfully dispose of the
disguise and clothes
used in the robbery. However, John’s wariness of a bank dye pack
ruining the money put
paid to that idea.
In
the end John planned to rob a rich, elderly lady who lived nearby. If it worked
out he
would consider more
ambitious ventures. The lady clearly had a lot of money. She lived
alone in a large
house without the protection of a guard dog. John had done his homework.
The lady did have an
iron front gate. Entry could only be gained by way of an intercom.
John would use a
false accent. The lady never went out, so far as John could tell. He was sure
a lady of that age
would keep valuables at home. Looked like a promising target.
John
bided his time. He wanted to get it right. He had to get it right. When
he was sure he
had minimised the risk,
he went into action. There was no difficulty in reaching the front
door. As it began to
open John touched his key and went past the old lady unseen. When she
closed the door after
some hesitation, John made his threat in the same false accent – “Just
give me your money
and you won’t get hurt.” Disaster struck. The old lady gasped in shock
and collapsed. Her
head hit the wooden floor awkwardly. She didn’t move. John bent down.
He didn’t want to
touch his victim and leave his DNA behind. He couldn’t detect any sign of
life. In his panic
John glanced at an old-style phone sitting in the hallway, but he didn’t dare
use it, for fear of leaving
his fingerprints behind. Besides, the poor old lady was beyond help.
As
he had planned, John was able to close the front door behind him, using a small
wooden wedge under
the handle as leverage. He had been careful to take the wedge from his
right trouser
pocket, staying well clear of the key in his left. John could feel sweat
gathering
under his shirt. The
same procedure applied at the garden gate. As it clicked shut behind him
the noise caught the
attention of a man walking on the opposite pavement. The man stopped
walking and looked
towards the gate. John froze instinctively. Was he really invisible? The
man seemed to
hesitate for an eternity, before continuing to walk away. John took a deep
breath of relief.
When he reached the safety of his home John reflected
on the whole miserable episode.
He replayed in his
head over and over to reassure himself that the Police would not think that
anything suspicious
had occurred. After all, nothing had been stolen and no damage had
been done. The old
lady simply had a heart attack. What else would anyone think? He felt
sorry for the old
lady but it was accidental and unintended. Then he checked on the computer.
Causing an unintended
death during a burglary? Felony murder! God, no.
John
was racked with guilt. What had he done? Sleepless, or mostly sleepless, nights
followed. He still
couldn’t dismiss the fear that somehow the Police would find him out.
Then, about a month
later, there was a story in the local press about the isolation of elderly
people in the
community. It was reported that the old lady had no-one watching out for her
and she ‘had died in
the loneliness of her home weeks earlier’, or words to that effect. John
knew then for sure that
his crime had not been detected but he felt even worse about what he
had done.
Could
John make amends somehow? Could he use the key to help others in some way? He
remembered how the
key had saved him twice. He also remembered how well he had
prepared for the
burglary and look what happened there!
#
John had the key with him. He wasn’t sure why.
It was as if he was being directed. He
was wandering, it
seemed aimlessly, when he came across a church. Hardly surprising, with
Norwich bulging at
the seams with churches. John was not religious. The last time he
ventured inside a church was years earlier when he attended
Uncle Richard’s funeral service.
The open door beckoned to him, and he moved slowly inside,
taking a seat close to the
door instinctively, in case his entry was unwelcome. The
place was deserted. He bowed his
head and closed his eyes. The silence swept over him. It was
inexplicable. After only a few
minutes he felt astonishingly refreshed. He now had resolve
- he knew exactly what he had
to do.
Making his way
quickly, as if moving more slowly would weaken his determination, he
walked along the streets. At last, he could see the River Wensum,
partly hidden by bushes on
the near side. There was no-one around. Anonymity encouraged
him. But as he came closer,
John felt temptation. It was tangible. Very real. Carefully using
a glove from his right
pocket, he removed the key from his left. He looked down at the
key, which had drenched
him in so many emotions - joy, ambition, greed, guilt,
despair. He threw the key into the
middle of the water and saw it sink.
The overwhelming sense
of freedom never left him.
About the author
Dave Dempster is a retired lawyer and aspiring writer living in Norwich,UK. His work can be read, or is to be read, in two of the Crimeucopia anthologies, as well as online in Jonah, CafeLit and East of the Web.
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