It's him. Ben has the power to reverse the cry of The Banshee– AND HIS PHONE'S POWERED OFF!
What a bell-end. I mean, who switches their phone off? Why didn't I ask him where he lived? Should I run over to East Street and start calling out his name, should I?
No, maybe not.
It's the middle of the night; I'll just piss people off.
Try his phone again– voicemail.
Ben– you plonker– I need you– Penny needs you!
I fall onto my bed and bury my head in my pillow. The sound of my parent's deep sleep breathing gives me a little comfort and I close my eyes.
Mum bursts into my room, "The hospital phoned, Penny's had a comfortable night and her condition's stable; your dad and I are going over there now, your nan's coming over to look after Becks. Get to the hospital as soon as possible, we and Penny need your positive support," she says, flinging open my curtains.
Lifting my head off the pillow, I ask, "What time is it?"
"Half seven," she says, rushing out of my room.
My heads fuzzy, but when the events of last night return to me, I jump up and grab my phone– three missed calls from Ben.
I'm still fully clothed, even got my trainers on. So I just brush my teeth and take off for Costa.
###
Ben jumps up when he sees me, "Mocha?" He asks. I'm feeling jittery and coffee will make me worse, so I say, "No, a sparkling water." With Ben in the queue I look at my phone and see it's gone past eight o'clock already.
"We've got less than eight hours to save Penny," I say, when Ben returns.
Already I can see that he's irritated with me, "Dane, the primary job of saving Penny's life is with the doctors and nurses." He presses his hand down on my jittering knee, "It's our job to try and make sense of this Banshee business, and to do that we need focus and calm, you understand?" He says, taking his hand off, of my knee, which immediately starts jittering again.
Ben stares at my bouncing knee, "Dane, settle down." He shakes his head, "Look, the fact is, this Banshee business is at best coincidence, at worst some kind of trick that's being played on you," he says.
I shake my head, defiantly; and push the paper in front of him. He looks at it, then me, "My name and number, so what?" he asks.
"You heard what the old man said last night; you share her name," I say.
As he stares at his name, my eyes hone in on the back of his neck and I see a multitude of fine hairs stand up and quiver. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs, "If this is a trick, it's a very elaborate one, I'll give them that," he says.
"IF– it's a trick? There's every chance The Banshee is real; and I don't want to put my sister's life at risk by dismissing what might be fact, as fiction," I say.
He sits back, "I don't know anything about you, was that even your sister?" he asks.
I'm not angry with him for doubting me, I can see where he's coming from and I'm aware I know nothing about him, "Likewise, but I have no doubt that your kid brother, Aubrey, died last year." I swig my water, "Believe me, that was my kid sister, Penny, and I'll take every avenue I have to, to save her." I glance at my knee, "My leg don't jitter like this for nothing," I say.
There's a noticeable shift in Ben's attitude, his irritability has dropped away and he picks up the paper, "Ben Haes." He looks at me, "Ban Shee." I nod, "Yep, what do you think?"
He stares blankly past me, "I don't know what to think," he says.
I stare back, "You said we'd do some brainstorming this morning," I remind him. He nods, "I did, but that was before I was side-tracked by my name being involved. I take the paper back from him, "You have the power to reverse the Cry of the Banshee, Ben, we have to find out how to do that," I say, with assertion.
He makes a whistling sound, "That's some pressure," he says.
We're interrupted by a large middle-aged lady, "Excuse me boys, can I sit here?" she say, nodding to the chair next to Ben. "Of course you can," he says.
On her tray is a: piece of chocolate cake, a blueberry muffin, a bar of chocolate and some marshmallows. As she places the tray on the table, I can't help but stare at her; she's really short, yet really fat and and her breathing's heavy with the exertion of carrying the tray.
Ben notices her struggle and pulls back the chair for her. She smiles at him, "Thank you, my wonderful lovely."
Next thing, we're both alarmed by an almighty, THWACKING sound, followed by a visual blur and SMACK! It takes me a few seconds to compute what's just happened– the lady has missed the seat and landed with a SPLAT on her arse. Ben is staring down with his mouth hanging open, in shock or awe, I can't really tell.
I stand up, look over the table and down at the woman. She's on her back; her little fat legs protruding upright and apart, while her dress has fallen over her head, exposing the huge expanse of her white wobbling belly.
But her ungainly position is exposing something else that seems so wrong on a lady of her size and age– she's wearing Wonder Woman knickers!
Eventually Ben and I snap out of it and rush to help her. I grab her dress and pull it down to cover her modesty; but I can't help noticing the knickers are too small for her, they bite into her flesh. My eye catches Ben's and I see a smirk break on his face. I look away as I feel a peel of laughter begin to tickle my tummy. I try hard to supress it, knowing it's so wrong to laugh at this poor lady's misfortune.
We manage to get her covered and back on her seat, "Thank you so much my Wonder Man; all the world is waiting for you, and the power you possess," she says to Ben, before diving into her chocolate cake.
Again, my eyes meet Ben's and I can see him trying to stifle a giggle. I can't help it, a huge snotty laugh erupts from me, I jump up and try to disguise it as a sneeze, "Excuse me," I splutter, running for the door while pretending my erupting laughter is a sudden sneezing fit.
Outside, Ben joins me and drags me away from the window. Once out of sight, we both double up and allow ourselves laugh with unbridled tear filled abandon, "she's– wearing– Wonder– Woman– knickers," I manage to splutter through my mirth.
We laugh until our belly's ache. Ben stands straight and wipes his face, "That felt so good, I've not laughed like that for a long time," he says. I wipe my eyes and rub my belly, wallowing in my post laughter warmth, "Yep, nothing like a good laugh to make you recover," I say.
Ben throws a glance at me, a look of revelation on his face, "That's it!" He says.
"What's what?" I ask, confused.
He nods his head, "To reverse the Cry of the Banshee, we laugh," he says.
His theory hits me and I say it out loud, "The reverse of 'cry' is 'laugh'– we've got to laugh at Penny's bedside, instead of being all morose and worried," I say, feeling fully charged and ready to go.
Ben gently thumps my chest, triumphantly– "let's go and reverse The Cry of The Banshee..."
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