Sky Song

Sky Song #2

The school day was as uneventful as always.  Predictably, Jacob sailed through his history test and Mr Galley gave the mark with the air of one who has begun to find his pupil's continual high performance tedious. Luca’s cheating narrowly missed discovery when he lifted his arms in a loud yawn and exposed the black smudges of information that Jacob had put there.  Luckily, Mr Galley had been distracted by Chloe Winsome’s phone going off in her bag and Jacob had managed to mouth a reminder to Luca to cover up.  Lunch was a turgid affair of undercooked chips and overcooked sausages, haute cuisine by the school cook’s standards, accompanied by Luca’s usual repertoire of toilet humour and visual gags involving items of cutlery placed into various orifices, all greeted by rolling of eyes from Ellen and self-conscious sniggers from Jacob.  Everything seemed normal, but still Jacob couldn’t shake the completely illogical sense of unease and foreboding that had settled over him.   

After school Jacob and Ellen walked back to her house without Luca, who had managed to get detention. 

‘You’ve been quiet today,’ Ellen said.

Jacob shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

‘I’m not bothered. I just wondered… do you want to talk about something?’

Jacob shook his head. What could he say?  During the night some mental bloke turned up in my room, told me I was from another world and asked me to go back there with him. Then he threatened me because I said no, and I’m terrified of some random act that may or may not happen with no idea of what it might be.

Smart.  Ellen would probably lock him out of her house and call the funny farm. He put on the brightest smile he could muster. ‘I’m fine.’

Ellen gave the peeling wooden gate a rough shove.  She led Jacob through the tangle of weeds that choked the path of her front garden, ignoring the chip papers, sun-bleached crisp bags and squashed plastic bottles.  No matter how many times she cleared them away, it seemed the swirling winds that blew across her estate always brought them back. It was easier to overlook them. She rattled her key in the lock of the front door and it opened to reveal a half-naked boy of about four chasing a terrified mongrel dog along the hallway.  The smell of old frying oil wafted through from the bare plastered kitchen at the end of the passage. 

‘Tommy, get some pants on!’  Ellen snapped as her brother raced past.  Tommy ignored her and, with a squeal of delight, continued to hound the little dog.  She turned to Jacob, colour rushing to her cheeks. ‘Mum’s been ill again.  She did tell me she felt up to cleaning today, though…’

‘It really doesn’t bother me,’ Jacob reassured her.  He had told her the same thing a thousand times before. 

‘My room’s ok.  Let’s go before Mum sees you. I don’t know what time Luca will be here, but he’ll just have to deal with her.’

Ellen’s bedroom was always clean and neat, completely at odds with the rest of her chaotic home.  Each of the four walls was a different colour from spare bits of paint found lying in the cellar and finished with an unsteady hand, but Ellen was proud of her handiwork.  Hers was the only room in the house that had been decorated since she, her mum and her brothers had moved in when Tommy was a baby. She had furnished it with an eclectic but homely mix of scavenged items and Jacob always felt comfortable in there. 

Jacob slid off his backpack and flung himself onto the bed.  Ellen perched on a dressing table stool and grabbed a packet of sweets, throwing one to Jacob who caught it neatly. 

‘I’ll get you something to drink. Stay here or she’ll see you.’ 

Jacob nodded, chewing as Ellen closed the door behind her.  He finished his sweet and lay back on the bed, gazing up at a rippling shaft of sunlight on the ceiling.  The indistinct sounds of Tommy squealing and cupboard doors being slammed below in the kitchen carried up to him.  He vaguely wondered what was taking her so long.   But he was warm and the bed was soft and fragrant with the scent of Ellen, and by degrees he became drowsy.  His eyes closed and he drifted, balanced on the brink of sleep.