There Won't Be Much For Me In The Afterlife
[Death was not something that Vince Noir had ever given all that much thought to...]Death was not something that Vince Noir had ever given all that much thought to. It seemed, to him, to be an abstract concept more than anything serious and inevitable. Despite all their mad adventures, he had always felt entirely safe and untouchable. Death was something that could be avoided, with a little Shaman aid and a healthy dose of double-act magic, and while Howard always banged on about the ‘inescapable futility of life’ Vince never thought it would happen to either of them, not properly. He thought they would always just keep going on, he and Howard against the world.
In the end, it hadn’t been The Hitcher, or the Crack Fox, or even the murderously amorous intentions of Old Gregg. They’d just been standing in the shop, bickering about something stupid - Vince could never remember when he thought about it afterwards - when he noticed something that resembled a badly-shaded charcoal figure hovering behind Howard’s left shoulder. Before his brain cell even had time to register the apparition, the shape plunged a translucent hand straight through Howard’s chest. Howard gasped, his eyes widening in sudden shock, and then he collapsed quietly to the floor, like a marionette that had had its strings severed in two.
“Howard!” Vince cried out, but the sound drew the attention of the black figure, and it turned slowly to face him. Vince backed away slowly, wobbling a little on the heels of his platform boots. He reached up to shield himself, but then he heard pounding footsteps and a voice cry, “Huellamaa-kay!” and when he looked up Naboo was standing at the bottom of the stairs, pointing a finger at the cloud of smoke where the shape had previously been stood.
“You alright, Vince?” Naboo asked, his usually passive voice tinged with anxiety. “Hell Sprite. Managed to get out of the stock cupboard.”
“Yeah, I’m fine…” Vince murmured. His gaze returned to the crumpled form on the floor before him. “Howard?” he called. “Howard, are you alright?”
But there was no response.
Vince took a tentative step forward, taking in Howard’s feeble hands, the slowly draining colour in his face, the lack of light in his hazelnut eyes.
“Howard? Howard - that thing, it’s gone now. You can get up. C’mon, Howard, what’re you playing at? Just get up, yeah?
Naboo turned to look down at well, and his face paled. “What happened?” he asked. “Did it touch him?”
“He just fell over…”
“Oh, Christy.”
Howard was still breathing, but only just, his throat making a series of dreadful rough, choking noises, and he was blinking rapidly, as if he had lost his sight. Vince dashed over and sunk onto his knees, clasping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to suppress the escaping whimper, and gripping onto Howard’s face with the other.
“Howard? Howard!” He tried to lift his friend onto his lap, but Howard’s eyes were beginning to roll back in his head. “No. No, no, no, no. Howard!”
“Vince.” Naboo was tugging at Vince’s shoulder. “Vince, he’s-”
“No!” Vince snarled. “Don’t say that! Don’t you fucking dare say that! You’re a Shaman, do something!”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s bullshit! I know that’s bullshit, Naboo. Come on, do something, or he’s going to…”
Howard was trying to grab a hold of Vince’s sleeves with a weak hand. He had stopped choking, but now his breathing was shallow and short, like he was shivering. Vince grabbed hold of his hand and clung onto it desperately. “Don’t worry, Howard. S’gonna be ok, yeah? Naboo’s gonna sort this out.”
He turned back to face his landlord, who was staring sheepishly at the floor. “Come on, Naboo, use your fucking Shaman senses, your voodoo magic, anything! You’re an alien wizard, you’ve got to have some tricks up your sleeve. Hurry up! Howard’s…Howard, he’s…don’t just stand there, do something!”
“Vince, there’s nothing-”
“I don’t care what you have to do, you tit, just get on and do it.”
“I’m not qualified for this kind of magic!”
“Do I look like I give a shit?”
“I…”
Howard was beginning to limply fall backwards, his hand going soft in Vince’s grip.
“Naboo!” Vince screamed.
Naboo took a step forward, and in a single fluid motion knelt down and placed both of his hands on Howard’s foreheard. He began to mutter a quiet chant under his breath. It was magic like Vince had never heard before: all quiet consonants and dancing vowels and sounds that he didn’t even know existed. A tiny white glow began to shine underneath Naboo’s hands, growing stronger with every word that he spoke, until it burst forth from between his fingers and Vince had to shield his eyes from its brightness.
Then Naboo abruptly stopped speaking, and drew his hands away, the light gone. Vince turned down to look into Howard’s face, but his friend’s eyes were hard and unseeing and he wasn’t moving.
“Oh, God.” Vince’s throat began to constrict. “It didn’t work, it didn’t work.”
“Of course it worked,” Naboo snapped. He abruptly stood up and made his way over to the shop counter. “We haven’t got much time.”
“What?”
Naboo opened one of the drawers underneath the till and began to rummage through. “You made me panic,” he said sharply. “That’s spell’s dangerous JuJu. Now I’ve got to put you at risk and all. Saboo’s going to have a sodding field day when he hears about this. Hah! There it is!”
He pulled something out of the drawer and chucked it into Vince’s outstretched hands. It was a wristwatch, made of a fine and elegant black metal and decorated with filigree patterns that seemed to dissolve and reappear before Vince’s eyes. The clock face itself looked like paper, and the hands ticked steadily, without making any sound.
“What’re you on about?” Vince said. “How’s this going to help?”
“That spell I just used is powerful magic,” Naboo muttered, staring down at Vince with a dark expression. “Only the most able of Shaman are supposed to use it, by law. Howard’s still alive, though it don’t look like it, but the spell’s separated his body and his mind into two separate things. He’s dead, but his consciousness is still going, and it’s protecting him. It’s created a kind of…alternative reality, inside his mind, and that’s where Howard is. His body ain’t functioning, but his essence is safe and protected. All you have to do is go in and get him back.”
Vince blinked slowly. “What? Well…I’ve done that before, haven’t I? We can just go and use that magic mirror again, bring him back, just like last time.”
Naboo rolled his eyes. “That? Sold it on eBay. Anyway, it wouldn’t work, not with a spell like this. But there is a way. I can use my powers to transport you into Howard’s consciousness. You go and find him, and then you press the button on that watch, and it’ll get you out and it’ll pull Howard’s mind back into his body. Just like waking up from a dream.”
Vince shook his head. “You’re a diamond, Naboo. You’re the best Shaman in the whole entire galaxy.” He grinned, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “And he’ll be ok? Everything will be back to normal? I can do that. I can go and get him back, no problem! What do I need to do?”
But Naboo’s expression was hard, and small creases of nervousness crowded around the edges of his eyes. “S’not as easy as all that. This spell is incredibly precise and dangerous, that’s why only Shaman who’ve done the right training are supposed to use it. You’re crashing straight through the boundaries of Howard’s consciousness, right? It’s going to see you as a threat. If it thinks it’s being attacked, it’ll start to collapse itself. Howard will be ok, it’ll just create a new universe for him, but you’re corporeal and he ain’t any more. If you get caught up in the crunch, then that’s the end. No coming back. Finished.”
Vince swallowed. “Right…that doesn’t sound too good.”
“As soon as you break through the barrier you’ll have two minutes before you have to break out.”
“Two minutes?” Vince screeched. “That’s nothing! I can’t do anything in two minutes! I need two minutes just to sort my hair out!”
“Will you shut up for one second? Christy…” Naboo ran a hand over his face. “That’s where the watch comes in.”
“Yeah, how’s that supposed to help?”
“It’s a magic watch, you idiot.” Naboo rolled his eyes. “Won it off Dennis in the last Shaman Council Poker Party. You see that button on the side?”
Vince looked down. On the left of the clock face there was a tiny black knob that stuck out slightly.
“Yeah.”
“Right. That’s your escape route. If you press that it’ll take you to an external point, and you can try again. You can go into as many timelines as it takes to find Howard and get him back. But it’s a difficult spell to navigate, s’not going to be easy. The more you go into, the larger the time disparity will be, ok? So you’ll start off with just two minutes, then you’ll get half an hour, then several hours…days, even, I think. The first time, I can probably project you straight to where Howard is, but the further you get the more difficult it’ll be to locate him, so you’ll be on your own. And you’ve got to keep an eye on the time, otherwise you’ll get stuck, and I’m not coming in to get you, got that?”
“Yeah…” Vince nodded slowly. “Ok. Ok. I can do that. We’ve faced worse. This’ll be a piece of cake, yeah?”
Naboo sighed. “I hope so. There’s lots I don’t know about this spell. I mean…” He trailed off.
“What?”
“Well…” Naboo hesitated reluctantly. “It’s possible that…Howard won’t know who you are.”
Vince frowned. “Huh?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about how he’ll react. But you know what he’s like. He’s pretty obtuse at the best of times, innit? And if he’s all wrapped up in his fake life, he probably won’t remember anything about what’s real. All I’m saying is, it might take you one or two goes before he remembers you.” He broke off at the look on Vince’s face, and then quickly added, “But you should be alright. It’s Howard, if he’s gonna remember anyone, it’ll be you. I’m just warning you, yeah?”
Vince felt like all the air had been taken from his lungs. “Yeah.”
“But you probably shouldn’t tell him outright who he is, or he might panic, and then he’ll retreat, and then fuck knows how long you’ll be stuck there. Oh, and for the love of God, don’t take the watch off! If you do, you’re fucked. You’ll get sucked into Howard’s consciousness and you’ll forget everything too and it’ll just be a huge mess. Rest of it, I’ve got no idea. You’ll have to improvise. Like I said, I ain’t qualified for this kind of thing. Think you can manage that?”
Vince nodded shakily. “I think so.”
“Right.” Naboo nodded. “Better put that watch on, then. We’ve got to get a move on.”
As Vince fumbled with the clasp, he quietly said, “D’you think this’ll work, Naboo?”
“I hope so,” Naboo mumbled. “Or that’s all my rent gone. Do you know how difficult it is to find tenants willing to put up with a gorilla?” He paused. “Are you sure you want to do this, Vince?”
Vince nodded. “Course. I’ve got to, haven’t I? It’s…it’s Howard. If there was a chance and I didn’t take it, I dunno how I’d live with myself.”
“Right. Ok. Just give me a second, I need to go and prepare.”
As Naboo left the room, Vince shuffled towards Howard. He placed his hands underneath Howard’s neck and lifted him onto his lap, cradling his friend’s head and stroking the brown hair, letting it run through his fingers like smoke.
“You’re going to be alright, Howard,” he said in the silence of the shop. “I’m gonna come and get you, I promise. And when you come back I’ll be really nice to you, ok? I’ll fix up Stationery Village for you and I’ll stop saying your outfits are boring, coz they ain’t really, they’re all soft and cozy, I just say they are to wind you up. I’ll even listen to some jazz, if you want me to. I’ll do anything. I will. I really will. Please, Howard…just come back, yeah? You and me, we’re a team. There ain’t no me if you aren’t around, not really.”
As the sound of Naboo’s muffled footsteps drew closer, he placed Howard’s head gently back on the floor and whispered, “See you in a bit, ok? Don’t get yourself into any more trouble while I’m gone.”
“You ready?” Naboo asked.
Vince nodded. “Yeah.”
The last thing he felt was Naboo’s cold hands pressing down on his forehead, and then a soft blackness came down and enveloped him, and then Vince Noir was gone.
***
As he told his tale, Vince’s voice had gradually become hoarser, thicker, and by the end of the story he seemed to have significantly shrunk into himself, his hands clenched into fists.
“D’you see, Howard?” he mumbled as a gust of cold wind swept past, dragging his wilted hair along with it. “I’ve been looking for you. I dunno how long, but long enough. And I’d really like it if you’d just come back with me now. I want to go home. I want…” His voice caught inside his throat, and he swallowed. “Even if you don’t remember anything, we can help you. M’sure Naboo’s got something, he always does. So, can we just go now? Please.”
For a minute Howard stared down at the scuffed pavement. Then he looked up at Vince, with his eyes like broken glass, and then he started to laugh.
“Right,” he said. “I see. That’s the real me, is it? Well, if you want me to remember, you’re going to have to give me a bit more to go on. Who am I, in this ‘other life’ you keep mentioning?”
Vince bit his lip. “Your name is Howard T. J. Moon. You were born in Leeds on the fourth of May Nineteen-Sixty-Eight. You were a zookeeper and then you were in a band and now you work in a shop and…ok, it’s not the best job but you’re brilliant at all the boring stuff like stocktaking and…refuse disposal. You like jazz and stationery and boring clothes. You don’t have a wife, you don’t have kids, but you’ve got me, and I’ve got you. That’s who you are, Howard. This isn’t you.”
Howard smiled, and it felt like his mouth was full of wasps. “Doesn’t sound like much of a life, does it?”
Vince frowned imperceptibly. “What?”
“Well, let’s have a look at what you’ve told me, if your stories were true. According to you, I’m a shopkeeper and I have a flatmate who enjoys breaking my stuff and ritually humiliating me. And…that’s about it. Not much to go on, eh? And say I went with you, to wherever it is you seem to think we need to get to. I’d be leaving behind my wife. My child. My livelihood. And for what? For the weirdo who followed me home and keeps telling me stupid stories about Shaman and magic watches. Well, you seem to have vastly underestimated Howard Moon, sir, because why on Earth would you think there would even be the slightest bit of contest?”
Vince’s mouth was open slightly and he looked like he’d been stunned. “I…” he stuttered. “I don’t…”
“That’s right,” Howard nodded. “Exactly.”
He hesitated momentarily, but Vince didn’t say anything.
“Now, if we’re done here, I’m going to back into my house and I’m going to go to bed, and if you don’t clear off in the next minute, I’m going to phone the police.”
As Howard turned to walk back into the house, he thought he heard the stranger say his name once more, but the sound was picked up and carried off by the wind. By the time he got to his front door, Vince had gone.
Howard closed the door behind him, locked it, and quietly made his way upstairs again, pausing only briefly on the landing to look at the photo of Gemma on their wedding day. She’d been wearing a white lacy thing, of course she had, and her brother Adam had been the best man. It was the stress of the thing that had made him forget, a momentary lapse.
Charlie was still asleep when Howard looked around the door, still wrapped up in his duvet with one foot sticking out. So was Gemma, sleeping quietly as she always did, hugging the pillow with a little smile on her face. Howard smiled too and lay down on the bed next to her, not even bothering to remove his shoes. He was exhausted.
As he fell asleep a bright white light began to appear in the corner of his eye.
In the end, it hadn’t been The Hitcher, or the Crack Fox, or even the murderously amorous intentions of Old Gregg. They’d just been standing in the shop, bickering about something stupid - Vince could never remember when he thought about it afterwards - when he noticed something that resembled a badly-shaded charcoal figure hovering behind Howard’s left shoulder. Before his brain cell even had time to register the apparition, the shape plunged a translucent hand straight through Howard’s chest. Howard gasped, his eyes widening in sudden shock, and then he collapsed quietly to the floor, like a marionette that had had its strings severed in two.
“Howard!” Vince cried out, but the sound drew the attention of the black figure, and it turned slowly to face him. Vince backed away slowly, wobbling a little on the heels of his platform boots. He reached up to shield himself, but then he heard pounding footsteps and a voice cry, “Huellamaa-kay!” and when he looked up Naboo was standing at the bottom of the stairs, pointing a finger at the cloud of smoke where the shape had previously been stood.
“You alright, Vince?” Naboo asked, his usually passive voice tinged with anxiety. “Hell Sprite. Managed to get out of the stock cupboard.”
“Yeah, I’m fine…” Vince murmured. His gaze returned to the crumpled form on the floor before him. “Howard?” he called. “Howard, are you alright?”
But there was no response.
Vince took a tentative step forward, taking in Howard’s feeble hands, the slowly draining colour in his face, the lack of light in his hazelnut eyes.
“Howard? Howard - that thing, it’s gone now. You can get up. C’mon, Howard, what’re you playing at? Just get up, yeah?
Naboo turned to look down at well, and his face paled. “What happened?” he asked. “Did it touch him?”
“He just fell over…”
“Oh, Christy.”
Howard was still breathing, but only just, his throat making a series of dreadful rough, choking noises, and he was blinking rapidly, as if he had lost his sight. Vince dashed over and sunk onto his knees, clasping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to suppress the escaping whimper, and gripping onto Howard’s face with the other.
“Howard? Howard!” He tried to lift his friend onto his lap, but Howard’s eyes were beginning to roll back in his head. “No. No, no, no, no. Howard!”
“Vince.” Naboo was tugging at Vince’s shoulder. “Vince, he’s-”
“No!” Vince snarled. “Don’t say that! Don’t you fucking dare say that! You’re a Shaman, do something!”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s bullshit! I know that’s bullshit, Naboo. Come on, do something, or he’s going to…”
Howard was trying to grab a hold of Vince’s sleeves with a weak hand. He had stopped choking, but now his breathing was shallow and short, like he was shivering. Vince grabbed hold of his hand and clung onto it desperately. “Don’t worry, Howard. S’gonna be ok, yeah? Naboo’s gonna sort this out.”
He turned back to face his landlord, who was staring sheepishly at the floor. “Come on, Naboo, use your fucking Shaman senses, your voodoo magic, anything! You’re an alien wizard, you’ve got to have some tricks up your sleeve. Hurry up! Howard’s…Howard, he’s…don’t just stand there, do something!”
“Vince, there’s nothing-”
“I don’t care what you have to do, you tit, just get on and do it.”
“I’m not qualified for this kind of magic!”
“Do I look like I give a shit?”
“I…”
Howard was beginning to limply fall backwards, his hand going soft in Vince’s grip.
“Naboo!” Vince screamed.
Naboo took a step forward, and in a single fluid motion knelt down and placed both of his hands on Howard’s foreheard. He began to mutter a quiet chant under his breath. It was magic like Vince had never heard before: all quiet consonants and dancing vowels and sounds that he didn’t even know existed. A tiny white glow began to shine underneath Naboo’s hands, growing stronger with every word that he spoke, until it burst forth from between his fingers and Vince had to shield his eyes from its brightness.
Then Naboo abruptly stopped speaking, and drew his hands away, the light gone. Vince turned down to look into Howard’s face, but his friend’s eyes were hard and unseeing and he wasn’t moving.
“Oh, God.” Vince’s throat began to constrict. “It didn’t work, it didn’t work.”
“Of course it worked,” Naboo snapped. He abruptly stood up and made his way over to the shop counter. “We haven’t got much time.”
“What?”
Naboo opened one of the drawers underneath the till and began to rummage through. “You made me panic,” he said sharply. “That’s spell’s dangerous JuJu. Now I’ve got to put you at risk and all. Saboo’s going to have a sodding field day when he hears about this. Hah! There it is!”
He pulled something out of the drawer and chucked it into Vince’s outstretched hands. It was a wristwatch, made of a fine and elegant black metal and decorated with filigree patterns that seemed to dissolve and reappear before Vince’s eyes. The clock face itself looked like paper, and the hands ticked steadily, without making any sound.
“What’re you on about?” Vince said. “How’s this going to help?”
“That spell I just used is powerful magic,” Naboo muttered, staring down at Vince with a dark expression. “Only the most able of Shaman are supposed to use it, by law. Howard’s still alive, though it don’t look like it, but the spell’s separated his body and his mind into two separate things. He’s dead, but his consciousness is still going, and it’s protecting him. It’s created a kind of…alternative reality, inside his mind, and that’s where Howard is. His body ain’t functioning, but his essence is safe and protected. All you have to do is go in and get him back.”
Vince blinked slowly. “What? Well…I’ve done that before, haven’t I? We can just go and use that magic mirror again, bring him back, just like last time.”
Naboo rolled his eyes. “That? Sold it on eBay. Anyway, it wouldn’t work, not with a spell like this. But there is a way. I can use my powers to transport you into Howard’s consciousness. You go and find him, and then you press the button on that watch, and it’ll get you out and it’ll pull Howard’s mind back into his body. Just like waking up from a dream.”
Vince shook his head. “You’re a diamond, Naboo. You’re the best Shaman in the whole entire galaxy.” He grinned, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “And he’ll be ok? Everything will be back to normal? I can do that. I can go and get him back, no problem! What do I need to do?”
But Naboo’s expression was hard, and small creases of nervousness crowded around the edges of his eyes. “S’not as easy as all that. This spell is incredibly precise and dangerous, that’s why only Shaman who’ve done the right training are supposed to use it. You’re crashing straight through the boundaries of Howard’s consciousness, right? It’s going to see you as a threat. If it thinks it’s being attacked, it’ll start to collapse itself. Howard will be ok, it’ll just create a new universe for him, but you’re corporeal and he ain’t any more. If you get caught up in the crunch, then that’s the end. No coming back. Finished.”
Vince swallowed. “Right…that doesn’t sound too good.”
“As soon as you break through the barrier you’ll have two minutes before you have to break out.”
“Two minutes?” Vince screeched. “That’s nothing! I can’t do anything in two minutes! I need two minutes just to sort my hair out!”
“Will you shut up for one second? Christy…” Naboo ran a hand over his face. “That’s where the watch comes in.”
“Yeah, how’s that supposed to help?”
“It’s a magic watch, you idiot.” Naboo rolled his eyes. “Won it off Dennis in the last Shaman Council Poker Party. You see that button on the side?”
Vince looked down. On the left of the clock face there was a tiny black knob that stuck out slightly.
“Yeah.”
“Right. That’s your escape route. If you press that it’ll take you to an external point, and you can try again. You can go into as many timelines as it takes to find Howard and get him back. But it’s a difficult spell to navigate, s’not going to be easy. The more you go into, the larger the time disparity will be, ok? So you’ll start off with just two minutes, then you’ll get half an hour, then several hours…days, even, I think. The first time, I can probably project you straight to where Howard is, but the further you get the more difficult it’ll be to locate him, so you’ll be on your own. And you’ve got to keep an eye on the time, otherwise you’ll get stuck, and I’m not coming in to get you, got that?”
“Yeah…” Vince nodded slowly. “Ok. Ok. I can do that. We’ve faced worse. This’ll be a piece of cake, yeah?”
Naboo sighed. “I hope so. There’s lots I don’t know about this spell. I mean…” He trailed off.
“What?”
“Well…” Naboo hesitated reluctantly. “It’s possible that…Howard won’t know who you are.”
Vince frowned. “Huh?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about how he’ll react. But you know what he’s like. He’s pretty obtuse at the best of times, innit? And if he’s all wrapped up in his fake life, he probably won’t remember anything about what’s real. All I’m saying is, it might take you one or two goes before he remembers you.” He broke off at the look on Vince’s face, and then quickly added, “But you should be alright. It’s Howard, if he’s gonna remember anyone, it’ll be you. I’m just warning you, yeah?”
Vince felt like all the air had been taken from his lungs. “Yeah.”
“But you probably shouldn’t tell him outright who he is, or he might panic, and then he’ll retreat, and then fuck knows how long you’ll be stuck there. Oh, and for the love of God, don’t take the watch off! If you do, you’re fucked. You’ll get sucked into Howard’s consciousness and you’ll forget everything too and it’ll just be a huge mess. Rest of it, I’ve got no idea. You’ll have to improvise. Like I said, I ain’t qualified for this kind of thing. Think you can manage that?”
Vince nodded shakily. “I think so.”
“Right.” Naboo nodded. “Better put that watch on, then. We’ve got to get a move on.”
As Vince fumbled with the clasp, he quietly said, “D’you think this’ll work, Naboo?”
“I hope so,” Naboo mumbled. “Or that’s all my rent gone. Do you know how difficult it is to find tenants willing to put up with a gorilla?” He paused. “Are you sure you want to do this, Vince?”
Vince nodded. “Course. I’ve got to, haven’t I? It’s…it’s Howard. If there was a chance and I didn’t take it, I dunno how I’d live with myself.”
“Right. Ok. Just give me a second, I need to go and prepare.”
As Naboo left the room, Vince shuffled towards Howard. He placed his hands underneath Howard’s neck and lifted him onto his lap, cradling his friend’s head and stroking the brown hair, letting it run through his fingers like smoke.
“You’re going to be alright, Howard,” he said in the silence of the shop. “I’m gonna come and get you, I promise. And when you come back I’ll be really nice to you, ok? I’ll fix up Stationery Village for you and I’ll stop saying your outfits are boring, coz they ain’t really, they’re all soft and cozy, I just say they are to wind you up. I’ll even listen to some jazz, if you want me to. I’ll do anything. I will. I really will. Please, Howard…just come back, yeah? You and me, we’re a team. There ain’t no me if you aren’t around, not really.”
As the sound of Naboo’s muffled footsteps drew closer, he placed Howard’s head gently back on the floor and whispered, “See you in a bit, ok? Don’t get yourself into any more trouble while I’m gone.”
“You ready?” Naboo asked.
Vince nodded. “Yeah.”
The last thing he felt was Naboo’s cold hands pressing down on his forehead, and then a soft blackness came down and enveloped him, and then Vince Noir was gone.
***
As he told his tale, Vince’s voice had gradually become hoarser, thicker, and by the end of the story he seemed to have significantly shrunk into himself, his hands clenched into fists.
“D’you see, Howard?” he mumbled as a gust of cold wind swept past, dragging his wilted hair along with it. “I’ve been looking for you. I dunno how long, but long enough. And I’d really like it if you’d just come back with me now. I want to go home. I want…” His voice caught inside his throat, and he swallowed. “Even if you don’t remember anything, we can help you. M’sure Naboo’s got something, he always does. So, can we just go now? Please.”
For a minute Howard stared down at the scuffed pavement. Then he looked up at Vince, with his eyes like broken glass, and then he started to laugh.
“Right,” he said. “I see. That’s the real me, is it? Well, if you want me to remember, you’re going to have to give me a bit more to go on. Who am I, in this ‘other life’ you keep mentioning?”
Vince bit his lip. “Your name is Howard T. J. Moon. You were born in Leeds on the fourth of May Nineteen-Sixty-Eight. You were a zookeeper and then you were in a band and now you work in a shop and…ok, it’s not the best job but you’re brilliant at all the boring stuff like stocktaking and…refuse disposal. You like jazz and stationery and boring clothes. You don’t have a wife, you don’t have kids, but you’ve got me, and I’ve got you. That’s who you are, Howard. This isn’t you.”
Howard smiled, and it felt like his mouth was full of wasps. “Doesn’t sound like much of a life, does it?”
Vince frowned imperceptibly. “What?”
“Well, let’s have a look at what you’ve told me, if your stories were true. According to you, I’m a shopkeeper and I have a flatmate who enjoys breaking my stuff and ritually humiliating me. And…that’s about it. Not much to go on, eh? And say I went with you, to wherever it is you seem to think we need to get to. I’d be leaving behind my wife. My child. My livelihood. And for what? For the weirdo who followed me home and keeps telling me stupid stories about Shaman and magic watches. Well, you seem to have vastly underestimated Howard Moon, sir, because why on Earth would you think there would even be the slightest bit of contest?”
Vince’s mouth was open slightly and he looked like he’d been stunned. “I…” he stuttered. “I don’t…”
“That’s right,” Howard nodded. “Exactly.”
He hesitated momentarily, but Vince didn’t say anything.
“Now, if we’re done here, I’m going to back into my house and I’m going to go to bed, and if you don’t clear off in the next minute, I’m going to phone the police.”
As Howard turned to walk back into the house, he thought he heard the stranger say his name once more, but the sound was picked up and carried off by the wind. By the time he got to his front door, Vince had gone.
Howard closed the door behind him, locked it, and quietly made his way upstairs again, pausing only briefly on the landing to look at the photo of Gemma on their wedding day. She’d been wearing a white lacy thing, of course she had, and her brother Adam had been the best man. It was the stress of the thing that had made him forget, a momentary lapse.
Charlie was still asleep when Howard looked around the door, still wrapped up in his duvet with one foot sticking out. So was Gemma, sleeping quietly as she always did, hugging the pillow with a little smile on her face. Howard smiled too and lay down on the bed next to her, not even bothering to remove his shoes. He was exhausted.
As he fell asleep a bright white light began to appear in the corner of his eye.