Reluctant Hallelujah Page 4

  And like yin needs yang, her collapse made me strong. I wrapped her up in my arms and coaxed her onto the couch. Then I looked up at Enron, my arms still clasped around Coco.

  ‘We’ll both go down,’ I said to him. ‘You go first, and I’ll follow.’

  Enron shook his head. Gentle but firm.

  ‘No,’ he said simply.

  It’s funny, isn’t it? Just because someone isn’t that smart, you expect you can walk all over them. That you can say, ‘I’m going to do this,’ and they’ll just go along with you. Well, Enron might not have been the smartest guy in the room, but he was no way letting me go down into the cellar until he knew exactly what I was going to be confronted by.

  I kept my arms around Coco and shut my eyes in a subconscious mimic of see-no-evil. If it was my parents down there, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to stand it. How do you stand finding your parents in a coffin in a room under your house? I had made up my mind to call the police, when I heard Enron.

  ‘Whoa,’ he called. ‘Dodie, you’d better come down here. Now. This is big. This is way big.’

  Coco stayed bundled up on the couch, her legs folded up like a card table, her face still all over the place. But I heard him. I heard the urgency in his voice.

  I got up off the couch and stood there, hugging myself.

  ‘Is it … them?’ I called down to him.

  ‘No,’ he called back up. ‘It’s not. Come down and have a look for yourself.’

  I went over to the trapdoor and knelt down, putting my head through the hole in the floor. The sight of the coffin made my back feel spider-crawly all over. I looked over at Coco. Minty and Jools were sitting either side of her, holding her hands and making soothing sounds. I wanted them to come with me, but my ‘yoi’ told me it wasn’t a good idea for all of us to go down. I sat on the edge of the trapdoor and put my feet onto the ladder. I tested it for wobbliness, but it seemed firm. I’m not very good with heights at the best of times, and this was definitely not what I would classify as the best of times. But Enron’s voice compelled me to go down.

  Rung by rung. Rung by rung.

  With a final footfall I felt solid ground under my feet. I kept hold of the rung above my head for a long moment. And then I let go and turned around.

  Enron didn’t even notice I was there. He had stopped pacing and was kneeling on the ground, his hands clasped together at his chin. The light from the lounge room shone into the basement like a torch. In the far corner of the room was one of those soft black travel bags.

  All my fear had melted away. I felt like I was finally going to understand what was going on. Why my parents were missing. What had happened to them.

  My dad told me once that the scariest thing about fear is fear itself.

  ‘Yeah, der,’ I’d said.

  He’d grinned at me, used to my sarcasm.

  ‘But once you confront whatever it is,’ I remember my Dad saying, ‘there is nothing to fear. Fear is in your head. It’s not an external stimulus. It doesn’t come from outside, it comes from inside. From not knowing. Once you know, you don’t feel scared anymore.’

  Here I was. About to know.

  I walked up to where Enron was kneeling and looked over his shoulder. Into the unadorned coffin.

  The face inside the coffin was instantly recognisable. Instantly. There was no doubt whatsoever who it was. But I still had to ask.

  ‘Is that who I think it is?’ I whispered.

  Enron nodded.

  ‘Oh. My. God. You guys,’ I called up through the trapdoor. ‘Come here! You’ve got to see this. Coco. Come here! You’re not going to believe this.’

  There was silence. No movement.

  ‘Guys,’ I called out again.

  A pair of feet slipped into the hole. Coco’s feet.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice all raspy.

  ‘Coco,’ I said, climbing up the ladder so I could climb back down with her. Like she was about to parachute into open space and I was going tandem with her. ‘Just come and have a look at this. You need to see for yourself.’

  Coco climbed hesitantly. Minty’s feet came through the hole next, replacing each rung that Coco let go of. And then Jools.

  Coco stepped to the ground, facing away from the coffin, keeping her hands on the ladder rail until the last moment the same way I had. As if breaking her hold meant changing the way her life was forever. Minty stopped, waiting. Jools was still close to the top.

  I took Coco’s hand and released her from the ladder.

  I led her over to the open coffin and we both looked down together at the body lying there. Minty and Jools came up behind us.

  No one said a word. It was as if there were too many words to say and they were stuck at a bottleneck.

  Until finally Coco said, ‘Wow.’

  ‘Omigod,’ said Minty.

  ‘Holy shit,’ agreed Jools.

  ‘Is that Him?’ Coco asked.

  Enron nodded.

  ‘Him, with a capital H,’ he said.

  Lying as if asleep, His shoulder-length hair iconic, the seventies-style clothing he was wearing out of place, His hands and feet punctured from where the nails had been hammered through the flesh and bone, was the man Himself.

  Jesus Christ. The Son of God.

  And propped up against the front of the coffin was a thick manila envelope with Mum’s rounded handwriting on it: ‘For Dodie and Coco.’

  ‘Darling Dodie and Coco,’ (I read out loud),

  ‘First of all, I don’t want you to panic. I can imagine that if you’re reading this letter you both feel like your world’s just been turned upside-down, but it’s important that you both stay calm.

  ‘Inside this envelope is a letter from Dad and me for you to read later, but if you’re in the basement with Jesus, you need to now, very calmly, take Him to the next checkpoint.’

  I looked across at Coco to see how she was reacting. She was watching me back.

  ‘I know you won’t be happy about this,’ I read on. Calmly. So calm my chest was about to explode with the effort, ‘but if something’s happened to Dad and me the safest way for you to move Jesus is through the stormwater drains.’

  Involuntarily I looked up at Coco again. I hadn’t even gone on half the rides at Movie World; it had taken all my courage to climb down the ladder into this basement – there wasn’t a hope in hell that I was going into the drains, I thought to myself, calmly.

  ‘I’m not happy about it either – aside from the fact that it’s illegal, it’s dangerous,’ Mum had written. ‘But at the moment it’s far more dangerous for you and Coco to take Him out in the open. People will be watching the house, and we don’t yet know exactly how far they’re prepared to go to get Him.’

  What did this mean for Mum and Dad? How far had these guys been prepared to go with them? I focused back on the letter, on Mum’s words, her tone of voice helping me to keep moving forwards. Keep calm. Carry on. I felt like one of those English World War II posters.

  ‘Inside this envelope is a map showing you the route you need to take to get Him to the next point of contact. There’s a manhole in the corner – that’s your entry point into the drains. But – and this is important – don’t go down if there’s even the slightest chance of rain. IF IT RAINS, NO DRAINS.’

  I flicked my eyes over to the corner. Like she’d said: a heavy, old-looking manhole cover.

  ‘You’re taking Him to 11 Fairfield Street in Port Melbourne, to a man called the Mover. I’m meeting with him tomorrow afternoon to do a trial run. If you’re reading this letter we know that our house is probably being watched.’

  I looked at the date of the letter. It was from a couple of days back. I thought about my poor brave Mum, driving to this guy’s house and being followed. She must have been so scared. And what had they done? Pushed her off the road? Stopped her at the lights?

  ‘You need to text the Mover on 0471 982 111 and say, “Happy birthday Uncle Leonard,” to let him
know you’re coming. If you’re going via the drains add “Lovely weather for it,” but if it’s raining write “Shame you’re not getting better weather for it.” That way he knows which way you’re coming.

  ‘There’s a bag of supplies beside the manhole for you to take into the drains.’

  The black travel bag I could see in the corner.

  ‘There’s money in the bag, for just in case. DO NOT call the police. I know I always say to call the police, but this is NOT the time. You can’t tell a soul what’s going on.

  ‘Enron is the exception. He is totally trustworthy. Dad and I have kept a close eye on him through the years and he’s lovely. A real gem. I hope our backup plans have worked and he is with you now.’

  I looked across at Enron. His eyes were carefully watching his shoes, but you could tell he was listening intently.

  ‘I hope you’re not reading this note. I hope me writing this is a waste of time. But if you are reading it, you need to leave. Now. And remember, above all: stay calm. Stick together, look after each other, and try not to worry about Dad and me. We’ll be fine.’

  She didn’t know that. She didn’t know if she and Dad were going to be fine or not. But I loved that she said it.

  ‘We love you both very much, more than you will ever know.

  ‘Now go.

  ‘Love Mum xxx’

  Jesus looked peaceful lying there in the coffin with His hands folded across his stomach. I almost expected His chest to rise and fall with His breathing, but He remained perfectly still. I reached in to touch Him and the warmth of His body – warmth – spread up my arm and into my chest, settling my anxiety. He was dead but he wasn’t. No decomposing, no smell. It didn’t even seem that surreal to see him there. His face was so familiar that any weirdness melted away. I could have stood like that for hours.

  Enron put his hand on my shoulder.

  ‘We should go,’ he said quietly.

  ‘What did Mum mean?’ I asked. ‘That she and Dad have been keeping an eye on you all these years?’

  ‘Don’t know. But I think we have to do what she says and leave. Now.’

  He brought me away from the coffin and turned me towards the others.

  Coco shook her head, her arms hugging her own body.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, shivering. ‘I can’t go into the drains.’ She looked up at me from under her lashes then back down at the floor. ‘I’m scared,’ she said, her voice barely loud enough for anyone to hear. ‘And you can’t either. I know you can’t.’

  ‘We might not have to go into the drains anyway,’ I said, putting my arms around her, trying to warm her up. ‘If it’s raining, we’ll have to find another way out. Did anyone notice if it was raining before we came down here?’

  ‘I’ll go check,’ Minty said, going over to the ladder and climbing up.

  I went back to the coffin and looked in at Him. Laid the back of my hand on His cheek. I could feel my heart slowing down to a relaxed beat, my breathing finding a more chilled rhythm. I could do the drains. This wasn’t some stupid pointless theme-park ride – this was serious. This was important. I could do this, but not if I had to worry about Coco. She was right – it was going to be really scary – and if she went somewhere safe, it would be one less thing for me to have to worry about.

  ‘How about this,’ I said to Coco, taking her hand in mine. ‘You go to Amelia’s. Tell her that Mum and Dad are away on a business trip or something and I’m not home till tomorrow night. As soon as we’ve dropped Jesus off … Okay, that sounded weird … But as soon as we’ve dropped Him with this Mover guy, I’ll come get you.’

  ‘It’s not raining,’ Minty said, coming back down. ‘It’s cloudy, but not raining.’

  ‘Doesn’t that mean it could rain?’ Jools said. ‘Don’t clouds mean rain?’

  Minty shook her head.

  ‘Don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m just saying it’s not raining now. It might rain later on, but it’s not raining now.’

  I pulled my phone out of my dress pocket and handed Mum’s note to Enron.

  ‘What’s the number? We have to text this guy and say we’re coming. So what do you reckon?’ I looked at Enron. ‘Do we go the drains or find some other way?’

  Enron scratched at his ear and looked at me, at Coco, at Minty and Jools.

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ I said, making decisions like I was snapping my fingers, click click click, ‘we’ll go the drains. Just because it’s cloudy doesn’t mean it’s going to rain. Half the time clouds just mean it’s going to be cloudy. And at least that way we don’t have to worry about being followed. I mean, they got Mum and Dad; they could easily get us. We’ll be safer in the drains.’

  Enron bent over and started taking an inventory of the black travel bag: a big torch, a couple of headlights, walking shoes. Two fifty-dollar bills. And while he was sifting through the bag’s contents, I started texting, Happy … birthday … Uncle Leonard. Lovely … weather … for it. ‘What’s the number?’

  But Coco grabbed at my arm, furious.

  ‘What? Just like that?’ she said, her eyes burning. ‘I’m just sorted out and off I go and then you and Enron, and by the way, no one’s even introduced me to him, which I think is kind of rude but anyway,’ and she stepped forwards and put her hand out towards Enron, ‘I’m Coco,’ and Enron frowned but put his hand in hers and watched as she made her point by shaking his hand vigorously up and down. ‘So anyway you’re just going to pack me off to Amelia’s place and that’s it?’

  I looked at her, my mouth slightly open, my arms slack by my side.

  ‘Jesus,’ I said in exasperation, then put my hand over my mouth and apologised to the Man Himself. ‘Sorry. I mean, friggin’ hell, Coco, you’re the one who said you didn’t want to go. And I agree with you. I think it’s better if you don’t come. But we can’t sit around all day having a good old chit-chat about it. Minty and Jools will take you to Amelia’s. It’s the best solution.’

  I took the note from Enron’s hand and typed in the Mover’s number. Pressed ‘Send’.

  ‘I’m not trying to be difficult,’ she said, snuggling close to me and speaking for my ears only. ‘I don’t want to go into the drains, but I don’t want to not be with you. Mum said to stick together. Don’t leave me alone. Just call this guy, the Mover, and get him to come collect Him. Or let Enron go find him. I can’t go into the drains, but I don’t want you leaving me.’

  ‘Coco, it’ll be fine. Look who I’ve got on my side,’ and I nodded towards Enron squatted down by the bag, big strong Enron, and Jesus – talk about friends in high places. ‘You go with Minty and Jools and I’ll come get you as soon as we’re finished.’

  Coco looked at me a moment, then went over to stand by Jesus’s coffin, laying the back of her hand on his cheek the same way I had.

  ‘Okay, fine. I’ll have to come too then,’ she said.

  ‘Coco,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘nuh. It’s not going to happen. You go with these guys.’

  ‘No.’

  She propped her chin in that way I recognised from when she was digging her heels in with my folks.

  ‘Coco,’ I said. ‘You’re not coming. Just go to Amelia’s. Shit. You just said you didn’t want to come, and I think you’re right. It’s best if you go with these guys. Jesus … Sorry, hell.’

  I hadn’t realised how often I used ‘Jesus’ as a swear word.

  ‘She’s coming,’ Enron said, standing up from the bag, his voice gentle and calm behind me. ‘If she wants to come, she’s coming. It’s her responsibility too. You sure about this, Coco?’

  Coco nodded. One solitary nod of the head.

  ‘Okay. It’s settled,’ Enron said, then turned towards Minty and Jools. ‘How about you guys go and put everything back the way it was, then leave the house, calling out goodbye as if Dodie’s still upstairs. Just so whoever’s watching thinks these guys haven’t twigged yet. Then call my mum. Here’s her number.’ He scribbled a number on a scrap of p
aper. ‘Tell her I won’t be home till later.’

  Minty folded her arms at Enron, looking down at the scrap of paper in his hand. Jools did the same. Here’s the thing. You don’t tell my friends what to do. Ever. Not. Ever. Not if you want to survive unscathed.

  ‘Yar, right,’ Jools said, sarcasm stretching each word.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Minty said, staccato. ‘We’re coming too.’

  Enron shook his head, his broad shoulders firm.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ he said. ‘This isn’t a school excursion. There are people missing. Dodie’s parents. This is serious.’

  Minty looked down at the floor. She nodded.

  ‘No, you’re right. But you need to call us as soon as you’re out,’ she said, looking at me. ‘If we haven’t heard from you by tomorrow morning, I’m calling the police.’

  And then she hugged me, that big bear hug that I barely notice it happens so often. But now, I noticed it. I clung to her and Joolsy as if they were the charge required for my own personal battery pack.

  Enron put his hand on my shoulder. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  ‘You know you can’t tell anyone about this,’ he said to the girls. ‘No matter what happens, even if you haven’t heard from us by tomorrow morning. Even if you never hear from us again. Even if we die in the drains, you can’t tell anyone. This is Jesus Christ. It can never be spoken about. Ever. I know you guys aren’t religious, but I am, and this is bigger than any of us. No matter what, you have to promise not to tell.’

  Minty and Jools looked at him. I could tell they were both deciding whether to argue the point or not.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to them. ‘I’ll call. It’ll be fine.’

  As if I knew. That same reassurance Mum had given in her letter – ‘Don’t worry, Dad and I will be fine’ – I was now giving to Minty and Jools. And now I knew why she’d written it. It felt good to say. As if by saying it you made it true.

  I picked up the heavy yellow rectangular dolphin torch that Enron had left on the floor, and watched as my two best friends climbed back up the ladder and shut the trapdoor on us. I pushed the black rubber button and the basement lit up as though an electric light had been switched on.