Skippy Dies: A Novel

THE AMULET… IT SAVED ME.

Djed on the riverbank, kneeling by the rushes. Below, the princess’s eyes glow up at him from the water’s surface, the river passing beneath her translucent image, making her ripple and dazzle. The tiny harp of the amulet, with the power to turn a demon’s flames into warm pacific chords of music, dangles between them, over his knees, twisting lullaby-slow like a leaf in the memory of a strong wind.

YOUR HEART IS WHAT SAVED YOU, DJED.

Her words are carried to the surface in bubbles, one word held in each, rising in sequence to recompose her sentence. She’s projecting herself from the demonic prison where she is frozen in ice – she has just enough magic left to do that. Within the pale image of her face his reflection is just visible, as if they are turning into each other.

It’s night. On the horizon, a half-day’s ride away, the shadow of the castle has gone from the mountainside. After you kill the Fire Demon the walls fall and the whole valley blooms, not just with flowers and ferns and grass and trees but mice, bats, worms, frogs, swans and ducks, deer and horses, appearing from the corner of your eye, all in a moment, in a silver brake of light where the cloud has ebbed and the moon fights through.

YOU ARE COMING TO THE END OF YOUR QUEST, DJED! THERE IS ONLY ONE FOE LEFT TO FIGHT! Her eyes shimmer with the river, quicken then dwindle like shooting stars. BUT IT WILL BE THE HARDEST BATTLE OF ALL. I WISH THAT I COULD BE BY YOUR SIDE FOR IT. She raises her face entreatingly. BUT DJED… A HEART IS A DOOR INTO ANOTHER WORLD, AND ONCE YOU OPEN IT, IT IS NEVER TRULY CLOSED. SO ALTHOUGH YOU MAY NOT SEE ME… I’M ALWAYS THERE WITH YOU.

And somehow her hologram comes to life here, the frail image detaching itself from the surface of the water, the pale hand rising outward to touch his cheek…

Wait, to touch his cheek?

Aftershock jolts through him where he sits on the dorm-room floor, sparking icily down his arms to pulse in his fingertips.

What just happened?

GOODBYE, DJED. GOOD LUCK. The princess is already serenely back on the water, surveying him from her swirl of floating golden hair. He gathers himself as best he can, closes his mouth, grips the controller once more; her long sad eyes hold his a moment; then slowly she dissolves, into the darkness.

The very next moment there is a knock at the door. Head spinning, Skippy goes to answer it.

Coach is standing there, filling the doorway.

Daniel, he says. Just wanted a quick word.

His face is not angry, it does not have any expression. In his hand is a piece of white folded paper.

Can I come in?

From the Rec Room the pock, pock of the table-tennis table and a rerun of Saved by the Bell on TV. Then the door closes with Coach on the inside.

He is too big for the room, it looks wrong. His head revolves slowly to take in the beds, the desks, the books, the computer. Through his eyes everything must look small and breakable, toy things in a child’s game.

You weren’t at training this morning, Coach says.

Skippy looks at the floor.

You can’t afford to be missing sessions this close to the meet, Daniel. We only have two more days to prepare. Were you not feeling well? Was that it? Were you sick?

Floor floor floor floor.

Coach’s body creaks and rearranges. I got this today, Daniel. The sound of paper unfolding, like the blade of a guillotine coming down.

Dear Mr Roche, I regret to tell you that because of personal reasons I will no longer be able to come to swimming training or to go to meets. I apologize for any inconvenience, yours sincerely, Daniel Juster.

The paper folds closed again. Coach’s fingers press and re-press it along the seams, back and forth.

Did you write this letter, Daniel?

I’m not angry at you. Frankly I’m more confused than anything. But did you write it?

Okay, unless you say otherwise right now I’m going to assume you wrote this letter.

Okay. Well, at least we’ve established that much. Now the question becomes why. Why, Daniel? After so much preparation, after all that work? With only three days to go till the race? Why would you do this to your team-mates? Why would you do it to yourself? I mean the sheer –

Sorry, I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not angry, I just, you can understand, can’t you, how frustrating it is for me, for one of my best athletes to drop out at the last minute without so much as an explanation?

Footsteps patter up the hall outside; Coach turns and waits till they go by. Then he sees the X on the calendar. That cross there, that’s to mark the day of the meet?

When you wrote that up there, you were intending to come to the meet. That wasn’t so long ago. Okay, what we need to establish is what happened between then and now for you to want to write this letter.

I need an explanation, Daniel. If this is your decision I’ll respect that, but you have to give me some kind of explanation. You owe me that much, at least.

These ‘personal reasons’ you mention, can you tell me what they are?

It’s me, Daniel, it’s Coach. I’m your friend, remember. You can talk to me.

What’s on your mind, fella? Are you finding the training too much, is that it? Is it too much pressure on top of your studies?

Are the other boys bullying you? Siddartha and Garret?

Is something wrong at home?

Is it your mum?

Daniel, if there is something seriously the matter then I think you should tell me. Bottling things up inside won’t do you any good. I’m worried about you.

Is it me?

Daniel, I have to tell you that I’m getting pretty sick of this silent treatment. I’m getting pretty, pretty flipping sick of it.

Are you even listening to me?

Is it something that happened in Thurles?

Is that what it is?

What happened there, Daniel?

What is it you think happened?

The seconds go by, you think how can they just keep going by, but they do, and you are still here, the two of you in this tiny room, second by second by second –

The phone yips and vibrates on the table.

Leave that!

<>

Put it down. Coach’s face bone-white.

Skippy puts the phone down.

Daniel – flexing and unflexing his fingers – if you don’t want to talk I can’t make you. But I think you’re making a serious mistake here, a mistake that you will come to regret. So here’s what I propose we do. I propose that we rip up this letter –

Rip, rip, rip, the long triangles flutter to the floor.

– and we just carry on where we left off. You come to training tomorrow, you race in the meet on Saturday as we’ve planned for months, and after that, when we’ve a bit of breathing space, then we can hash out any difficulties you might have.

What do you say to that, Daniel?

Can I take that silence as a yes?

Painfully bending his knees so he can squat down and look up to you: Look, buddy, I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I guess it must be pretty serious if it’s making you do this. But whatever happens, I hope you’ll still feel able to – I hope you know you can confide in me, anything you might find… hard to tell someone else.

Blink, blink –

Okay. Coach’s head sinks a moment then rises as his body rises upwards. Okay.

The door closes behind him. Trillions of particles fizz up into Skippy’s head, his shirt clings to his back ice-cold and soaking as if he’d just been swimming in the Arctic – as if he’d swum a thousand miles, every muscle utterly empty. The pills beneath the pillow, obsolete, on the wall Ruprecht’s moon map, a million places to visit. And then:

Lori?

Hey, DJ, I was just calling you.

I know, sorry, I had to talk to one of my teachers. What are you doing?

Just hanging out. In the background the happy sound of Lori’s house, TV voices, warm rooms with open doors. It’s Daniel, he hears her say to someone. My dad says you should come over again next week, she says, returning to the mouthpiece. He’s got more boring stories from his schooldays for you. What you doing there?

Nothing. Oh, but here, guess what, I quit the swim team.

You did? When?

Today. Just now.

Oh, yay! Oh, Daniel, I’m so happy. It didn’t seem like you were having any fun.

I wasn’t. I just needed someone to tell me.

I’m glad I could tell you.

I’m glad you could too.

So do you still want to meet up Friday? she says.

Definitely!

Great!

Bay of Rainbows Bay of Love Bay of Harmony! He has already forgotten all about Coach, he is way away on the moon! Lake of Happiness Lake of Hope Lake of Joy – he closes his eyes, he bounds weightlessly over the silver night –