Seecrets



  Seecrets

  Jon Jacks

  Other New Adult and Children’s books by Jon Jacks

  The Caught

  The Rules

  Chapter One

  The Changes

  Sleeping Ugly

  The Barking Detective Agency

  The Healing

  The Lost Fairy Tale

  A Horse for a Kingdom

  Charity

  The Most Beautiful Things

  The Last Train

  The Dream Swallowers

  Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night

  Jonah and the Alligator

  Glastonbury Sirens

  Dr Jekyll’s Maid

  The 500-Year Circus

  P

  The Endless Game

  DoriaN A

  Wyrd Girl

  Heartache High (Vol I)

  Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II)

  Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)

  Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg

  Coming Soon

  The Wicker Slippers

  Text copyright© 2013 Jon Jacks

  All rights reserved

  Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. Oh, how I wish he'd go away!

  Chapter 1

  The ‘quiet girl’ of the class.

  The ‘serious girl’.

  The ‘Oh just ignore her’ girl.

  She’s at it again.

  Not because she’s crazed, understand?

  Well, not yet anyway.

  But soon?

  Who knows?

  (Well, me, actually: I know.)

  No; at the moment, she’s just curious.

  How can they sense it? she wonders.

  You’ve probably done it yourself.

  Probably felt it yourself, when someone’s done it to you.

  You know; when you stare really really hard at the back of someone’s head in class.

  You can see them sensing it, can’t you?

  The way they begin cricking their neck ever so slightly.

  Twisting their head a little bit.

  Like they’re getting just a little bit nervous.

  Suddenly, they’ll whip their head around. Trying to catch you out, yeah?

  So you’ve got to be quick; you’ve got to sense when they’re about to do it.

  Otherwise, it could be really embarrassing couldn’t it?

  Being caught staring like that.

  ‘Are you crazy or something?’ they’d say after class, confronting you in the corridor.

  Their friends with them as back up. Just in case there’s any trouble.

  ‘Stop staring at me weirdo!’ they’d say.

  So no, you wouldn’t want to be caught.

  May, May Holiday, she doesn’t want to be caught either.

  She’s just experimenting, see?

  How can people sense things like that?

  *

  Truth is, May’s got more reason than most people to feel troubled by this strange sensation of being stared at.

  She’s always feeling it.

  Feeling that clammy coldness you get against the back of your neck.

  Like someone’s actually breathing on your skin.

  Urrghhh!

  The short hairs there, they stand up, don’t they?

  Bristling.

  It’s a sign of being frightened, see?

  Your body tensing.

  Readying itself for danger.

  For May, as for anybody else, it’s an unnerving sensation.

  Especially as, as I say, it’s always happening to her.

  *

  Oh, and there’s another reason why it makes May so nervous.

  See, whenever she whirls her head around, trying to catch out who’s staring – well, there’s never, ever anyone there.

  And no; I don’t mean she’s just been a little too slow to catch them out.

  I mean, as far as she can see, there really is no one there.

  And that’s because it’s me, see?

  I’m the one doing the staring.

  But, course, May can’t see me.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Not until I let her know I’m here.

  *

  Chapter 2

  May doesn’t hang around after school finishes.

  Not even for Ben, who she gets on okay with.

  Ben, who’s about as popular as she is at school.

  Which isn’t very popular at all, to be honest.

  Fortunately, they’re both those sort of guys who don’t really care.

  They prefer it, really.

  Not being invited to parties.

  Not being asked out on weekend trips into town.

  Not being chosen for basketball, football or gymnastic teams.

  Well, not everyone’s into those kind of things, are they?

  Besides, May’s got things to do.

  Important things to do.

  *

  The things May’s got to do are so important, she only gives her mum the swiftest, shortest greeting she can get away with whenever she gets home.

  It’s straight up the stairs, see?

  Straight up to her room.

  Where she feels safe.

  Odd, that.

  Because I’m still here.

  I just can’t be bothered staring anymore.

  *

  What’s she going to go for tonight, I wonder?

  I Ching?

  The tarot cards?

  The runes?

  No, I’m kidding.

  Of course I know what she’s going to go for!

  The tarot.

  In her hands, I tell you, those cards come to life.

  Like wow, do they come to life!

  No, stop; I’m getting ahead of myself.

  That’s not fair, is it?

  It will only complicate things.

  And this is all like really really complicated as it is.

  So we all need to pay very very very close attention to what’s going on here, right?

  *

  The tarot.

  Have you ever seen a pack?

  Ever held a pack?

  Ever dealt a pack?

  Beautiful, aren’t they?

  Beautiful yet – dangerous.

  Dangerous in the wrong hands.

  In hands like May’s.

  All those painstakingly rendered pictures.

  Pictures of queens. Of knights. Of magicians.

  Of fools.

  Of hanged men.

  Of death.

  May can sense the power in them.

  Like you can sense somebody staring at the back of your head, May can sense the power in these cards.

  She knows they’re dangerous.

  She knows they’re frightening.

  Because no matter how many times she deals them out, no matter how many times she shuffles the cards, they always come out saying exactly the same thing.

  Death.

  Death for so many many people.

  *

  Chapter 3

  Now, okay, anyone who’s handled a tarot pack is, right now, at this very moment, just about shouting out at the top of their voice.

  ‘What nonsense! Just because the death card comes up, it doesn’t mean death!’

  You telling me May doesn’t realise that?

  She’s not an idiot.

  Just the opposite; she doesn’t know it (no one knows it, except me) but she’s got an IQ of 154.

  That’s why she’s a bit of a loner, see?

  Course, Ben’s got a different excuse.

  His IQ – well, let’s just say that perhaps it’s true that opposites attract, right?

  In fact, while we’re on the subject of attr
action, I can give you an example of just how bright May is.

  Would you believe it, she’s actually worked out how you can use nothing more than text messaging to predict if you get off with a guy or not.

  Seriously.

  It gives ‘predictive text’ a whole new meaning, right?

  Stick with me, and I’ll even tell you how she did it later.

  (Hey, who knows? You might even be able to make it work yourself.)

  But; back to the cards.

  Sure the Death card doesn’t mean death.

  Just as the crumbling Tower doesn’t mean a tower’s going to topple.

  Or the Hanged Man means a man’s going to hang.

  Hey, why should I explain all this though?

  Let’s listen in on May’s mumblings.

  She tends to do that; mumble to herself when she’s trying to figure something difficult out.

  Oh wait; even better.

  She’s going to use the phone.

  To phone Ben.

  So how do I know that she’s phoning him to talk about how the tarot works?

  I’ve told you; we shouldn’t be getting ahead of ourselves!

  *

  ‘Ben, hi it’s me.’

  (‘Hi me!’ Yeah, he always says that. Cute the first few times, but after that – irritating or what, eh?)

  ‘It’s still doing it; the tarot. The cards are still saying a lot of people at school are going to die, Ben!’

  Look, at this point I could tell you Ben’s reply.

  But, please, take it from me; it’s not going to be of much interest. And even less help.

  Trust me on this; if – remarkably – he actually does come up with a little gem worthy of your interest, I’ll let you know, right?

  ‘No, no; the death card doesn’t keep on coming up! As I’ve explained before, the cards don’t work that way, Ben.’

  Please just amuse yourself while Ben comes back with one of his typically inane comments.

  Thing is, he does go on a bit too.

  Ironic, that, isn’t it? Those who know the least always have the most to say.

  Yeah, yeah, just great Ben

  Wait; it’s May’s turn!

  ‘The cards don’t have meanings the way you’re thinking Ben! They’re not fixed. What meanings they do have can be changed by the cards around them; the cards that come before, or after, or above or below it.’

  Wow, you can really imagine the gears of poor old Ben’s mind whirring over that one, can’t you?

  What does she see in him?

  Oh yeah; she senses that he’s got an important part to play in all this.

  Oh great, just great; wouldn’t you know it?

  Ben’s gone and changed the whole point of the conversation now, hasn’t he?

  He says it’s boring, all this tarot stuff.

  All this stuff about people dying!

  That’s why she called you, you numbskull!

  Because she’s trying to fathom all this out!

  And what do you do?

  Turn the conversation around to some movie you want to take her out to!

  ‘No, sorry Ben; not this week. Maybe next–’

  Oops!

  She almost said it, didn’t she?

  Maybe next week!

  But next week; well, that will all be way too late, won’t it May?

  Because by next week, Ben’s probably going to be one of those who’s – how shall I put it? – no longer with us.

  But hey; let’s not blame May for not mentioning it, shall we?

  It’s not an easy thing to tell a friend is it?

  That you think he’s going to die?

  *

  Chapter 4

  Look, maybe I’m being a bit unfair on poor old Ben, right?

  Perhaps he’s just not my type. Perhaps I’m being too subjective about it.

  But trust me, Ben wouldn’t be the sharpest tool in a box of kiddies’ plastic scissors.

  May must have told him how the tarot works now, ohh, I don’t know how many times!

  I stopped counting after her tenth attempt.

  So, naturally, she hasn’t bothered telling him that, actually, the cards don’t have any meaning at all.

  It’s all down to what she sees in the cards.

  What she senses.

  I mean, straight over Ben’s head, or what?

  Straight over his head despite him being quite tall.

  Quite wirily muscular too. And strong.

  So, okay, he has got a few things going for him, I suppose.

  Only…only…it’s the strength of someone who’s got a problem with the world.

  Someone who wants a reason to pull something apart.

  Because they’d like to tear the world apart.

  Because they’re so angry with it.

  Because they think it’s so unfair.

  *

  Course, you won’t remember all those cheery old songs about death that were popular in the early sixties, will you?

  Songs about kids who seemed to think death was all just a part of the romantic mix, right?

  Dead Man’s Curve.

  Tell Laura I Love Her.

  Leader of The Pack.

  Wow, there wasn’t a dry eye in the diner when kids used to bring those up on the jukebox.

  All a bit dated now, you probably think.

  Reason why I mention them, though, is that they’re all the sort of songs that could have been written with a guy like Ben in mind.

  Hair awry, like he really can’t be bothered.

  Eyes hard, because they’re full of hurt.

  Full of a sense of unfairness.

  He’s done everything that can be done in his meagre little life, he reckons.

  So what’s the point in trying to do anything more?

  Not that he’s actually done much, understand?

  But in his eyes, he’s been restricted by the cards life’s dealt him, right?

  So this is the best it’s all going to get.

  It’s all downhill from here on in.

  So hey, what would be so bad about going out in a blaze of glory?

  People would be sure to you remember you then, wouldn’t they?

  Morbid?

  Wow, you said it!

  Attitude like that, is it any wonder most people ignore him?

  *

  Thing is, why’s Ben asking May out to a movie anyway?

  On the rare occasions he gets out to see one, he’s always disappointed.

  Because it has a reasonably happy ending, see?

  How real is that, he complains?

  How would so many people survive a situation like that?

  There should’ve been hundreds more bodies!

  And only one of the family should’ve survived.

  If it were real.

  Perhaps he’s got a point.

  Because, whaddya know; Ben’s idea of how life should really be is all about to come true!

  *

  Chapter 5

  At last, Ben lets May get off the phone.

  (Star Trek? Get back in the real world Ben!)

  Soon as she’s off the phone, May reverently packs the tarot away.

  Once again, she wants confirmation of what she’s read in them.

  What she’s read in them countless times now.

  This time she chooses the runes.

  She doesn’t need someone sitting in front of her to foretell their future.

  She just has to picture them in her mind before she casts the runes.

  Sammy.

  Pretty little thing. But wow, does she know it.

  May casts the runes.

  She pulls a worried face as she reads them.

  Even though it’s all just as she expected.

  Yep; death awaits our poor little Sammy.

  *

  Next up, it’s Patricia.

  Not as pretty as our little minx Sammy.

  Yet Pat reckons that if she hangs a
bout long enough with Sammy, all that prettiness will somehow rub off on her.

  Like it does, right?

  Way Pat acts, though, she seems to think it’s already working.

  Sure, she gets the boys; but only because they want to get close to Sammy.

  Thing is, Pat knows it too.

  Deep down, when she admits it, she knows it.

  Boy, does that hurt!

  So she’s envious of someone who’s supposed to be her best friend.

  Hates her, in fact.

  Hates her because Sammy will always be prettier than she is.

  Hates her because Pat will always have to make do with all the dregs Sammy can’t be bothered with.

  And if Sammy can’t be bothered with them, they’ve got to be dregs, haven’t they?

  Ah well, soon all her worrying about her looks will all be over.

  The runes have been cast, see?

  *

  ‘May! Your dinner’s getting cold!’

  May’s mum is at the bottom of the stairs.

  She’s shouted for May to come down to dinner a few times now.

  But May hasn’t heard her until now.

  ‘Coming! Coming mum!’

  May would have liked to cast the runes a few more times.

  Once for each person.

  Ten people.

  Ten casts of the runes.

  Truth is, though, May doesn’t really need to cast any more runes.

  She knows what the results will be.

  Death.

  Death is stalking her school.

  Ben should be pleased.

  *

  Chapter 6

  Whhhoooaaaa!

  I know what you’re thinking!

  That I’m death, right?

  Hey, that’s an insult!

  Why would I want to go around looking forward to the deaths of ten perfectly innocent kids?

  (Well, okay strike ‘perfectly’. Oh, and ‘innocent’. But you know what I mean!)

  I’m not death!

  Thank goodness.

  I mean, what sort of job would it be, eh?

  I can’t see that it would bring much self-satisfaction, personally.

  So, while we’re on the subject of who I am; is there anybody out there thinking, Oh, I’ve got it! It’s May’s imaginary friend!

  Wow! Just what type of imaginary friend did you have when you were a kid?

  Course I’m not an imaginary friend!

  May would be able to see me, wouldn’t she?

  Be able to talk to me?

  Which later, I admit, is all going to be possible.