The Hypnotist Page 9

  ‘And that’s how I ended up sitting in front of you in the evening sunshine on this very deck. It’s a grand job and the people I’ve met are some of the kindest I’ve known. But there are things I don’t like here . . . You’ll know what I’m talking about, both of you . . . The Jim Crow Laws and all that.’

  ‘Ain’t they got that back home, Jack?’

  ‘It’s a good question, Pip, and sad to say there’s prejudice all over the world. Like a lot of Irish people, most of my sisters and brothers emigrated to England in the fifties to look for work, and they suffered terrible prejudice there. There’s even a special word for it: Hibernophobia, which means prejudice against the Irish. Believe it or not, advertisements for jobs and flats in London often say No Irish need apply. Every Irishman knows about prejudice, and that’s why my heart goes out to you and all the oppressed people in this cruel world. The American Constitution says that all people are created equal, and that’s what I believe. If you keep coming to my little lessons, I’ll teach you about a very great fighter for equality named Martin Luther King Junior . . .

  ‘But Dr King will have wait for another day because right now Hannah looks like she’s falling asleep. So there we have it – that was the tale of The Voice of the Wind, and that’s the end of school for today. Before you go, I have a little something for you . . .’

  I give them each a satchel. Inside are the Flintstones pencil cases, a pen, a bottle of ink, and a couple of children’s books borrowed from the library. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy seeing their faces beam with pleasure, and more so when Pip finds that his Great Expectations fits inside, as snug as you please.

  ‘Don’t ever forget,’ I tell them, ‘your names are linked. Pip and Hannah – palindromes, see. You stick together forwards and backwards. You keep an eye on each other and I’ll keep an eye out for you.’

  Then Hannah begins writing something in her new exercise book:

  tank yu mista funi is

  It takes a moment, but by now I am getting the hang of it. ‘Thank you, Mr Funny Eyes? Is that what you’re saying? Well, thank you too, Hannah. And you’ve got lovely, magical eyes. Now be on your way, you rascals.’

  I watch them cross the dirt track in the evening light, just as school pupils do all across the world. And I see Hannah do something that I had done myself as a small kid – she puts the strap of her satchel around her forehead, with the bag slung across her back, and she balances it just like a Chinese water carrier. Pip watches her and it is clear that he simply cannot contain his admiration and delight at every last thing she does. The boy is in love – it is written all over his face!

  Long after they have gone I sit buzzing with excitement. If hypnosis isn’t your thing, you may not quite understand what I have witnessed – I’m talking about the susceptibility tests on Pip. To put it in perspective, it is the equivalent of, say, a sports coach spotting a future Olympian athlete in their team; a music teacher discovering a child prodigy; or an art teacher who finds a young Picasso at the classroom easel.

  That boy, Pip, simply has it – that thing my da and I were always searching for on the streets of Dublin. I knew it from the moment I saw him, but now it was confirmed. I had promised that I would consider putting him into trance, but in truth there had never been a moment’s doubt. I couldn’t wait to see where his mind would lead.

  As I cook my evening meal, with Finnegan twirling around my legs, I feel optimistic about the world. I had enjoyed my first lesson with Hannah and Pip more than I expected. I had received a message from Professor Cerberus telling me how much he had enjoyed my little show with the ice bath. It seems that Cerberus wants to talk with me in his office – that’s exciting, isn’t it? I’m thinking promotion . . . I’m thinking pay rise . . . I’m thinking of phoning home and having a little brag!

  But sadly nothing in this life is perfect. Late that night, an unpleasant sound rumbles into my dreams. Still half asleep, I feel as if my bed and the whole bungalow are vibrating with the drone of approaching engines.

  And sinister headlights dance on the walls.

  16

  Hannah Sings

  i have no voice

  like a dry river-bed

  silence is my choice

  but i sing in my head

  in glimmering moonlight

  a dreamcatcher gleams

  if you weave it right

  you capture dreams

  i peep behind eyes

  like a magic charm

  of each sleeper who lies

  at dead river farm

  old man zachery

  dreams wild and weird

  his breathing is crackly

  behind his white beard

  old lady lilybelle

  dreams she is thinner

  rings on a handbell

  cries for her dinner

  dog in the doghouse

  chasing a cat

  and a frog and a fieldmouse

  a bat and a rat

  new boy pip

  dreaming of sea

  his bed is a ship

  he floats there with me

  strange-eye jack

  troubled in sleep

  hears a rumble on the track

  and the grumble of a jeep

  dreamcatcher bright

  as the web of a spider

  captures the lights

  of the nighttime riders

  who are these strangers

  where do they go

  what kind of dangers

  only hannah knows

  wish i could yell

  but my tongue dry as dust

  which dreamer can i tell

  who will hannah trust

  17

  Red Barn, White Knights

  Pip sat frozen in bed.

  A far-off sound had wrenched him from sleep – the moaning of motorbikes, the trundle of trucks, the coughing of cars. Just like his first night at Dead River Farm.

  But there was another sound too – and this noise was closer and even more terrifying. Somewhere deep below his bed, Pip heard the sharp click of the latch and the scraping of the ill-fitting half-door as it was pulled across the concrete floor. Someone had entered the disused stable below!

  Heart leaping and ears straining, Pip pictured the huge form of Erwin making his way through the blackness towards the ladder which led to his bed.

  And then the dreaded sounds came – the creak of ladder rungs and somebody breathing.

  Pip fumbled for a weapon – anything would do. His hands grasped nothing but night. Slowly, slowly, the footfalls approached. With every nerve straining, Pip sensed that the intruder had reached the top step, and now the assassin was here in his room . . .

  He stretched out, fumbled in the blackness and found an arm. He heard a quiet gasp. But this wrist felt small and thin. How could this be Erwin’s wrist? Unless he was holding just one finger . . .

  In that moment the convoy of vehicles roared past the farm, and the room was thrown into a chaos of lights. Now Pip could see the face of his assassin – but rather than the terrible jaw of Erwin, he saw the apricot softness of Hannah’s face. Fully dressed and wide-eyed . . . Beautiful, crazy Hannah!

  ‘Wh-wh-what you wan’, Hannah? You scared me half to death. You can see I’m fast asleep.’

  In answer, she shook his shoulder violently.

  ‘You wan’ me to follow? That it? But they’re out there, Hannah! You can hear, can’t you? They’re drivin’ about, and whoever they are, I don’ wanna meet ’em.’

  She glared at him, seeing deep down into his cowardice. Then she seized his shirtsleeve and tried to haul him from his bed.

  Whenever he was with her, Pip felt nothing but confusion. Now half of him yearned for sleep and the safety of his bed, but the other half longed to be with the feral girl – he would follow her anywhere.

  And follow her he did. He tugged on his too-small clothing and ill-fitting boots, and clambered down into the yard, where she stood waiting and al
ert, breathing in the crystal night air like a wild animal searching for a scent. Pip wanted to talk – he wanted to beg her to stay – but Hannah had already turned, and now she was gliding barefoot across the moonlit cobbles to the back gate, which led out of the yard and up towards the silver fields.

  As Pip followed in fear and dismay, he felt the comforting brush of something soft against his legs, and there was Amigo, trotting happily at his side.

  ‘You can come, but don’ make a sound, you hear?’

  The one thing Amigo had learned from various swinging boots was to restrain his barking. In fact the dog rarely made a noise, except an affectionate snuffling or a kind of cough from years of passive smoking in Zachery’s truck.

  So Pip and Amigo ran in silence. Pip thought of himself as a fast runner, but he struggled to catch up with that flying girl. She moved as if she was born running, pausing repeatedly to hurry him along, stamping her feet, eyes impatient and demanding. And although Pip’s stomach was knotted with anxiety, he could not take his gaze off her face and the sheen of her hair in the moonlight. It made him long to reach out and touch her.

  The truth is, there is no one more foolish than a young man with the first stirrings of love in his heart; no matter what insane danger awaited him in that diabolic night, some part of him rejoiced to be running with that fiery girl at his side.

  The three of them bounded up the clay path, the twisted silhouettes of apple trees like vile hags on each side. At the top of the hill Pip saw lights and, near the vast steel skeleton of a high-voltage tower, the shape of a barn – red and hulking like an ocean liner.

  There were sounds too – the slamming of car doors and deep male voices baying and bellowing like beasts before heading inside the barn.

  Pip had no notion of what this was about – all he knew was that it had nothing to do with him. Whatever courage he had was gone. Then, for the first time, Hannah seized his hand, and the touch of her fingers was enough to carry him forward.

  In the moonlight and the light from the barn, Pip felt dangerously exposed; but he followed Hannah, silently zigzagging between the vehicles. Pip noticed the distinctive black and white of a police patrol car, but this only added to his sense of alarm – the law didn’t side with boys like him.

  As they approached the mouth of the barn, they dropped down onto their hands and knees and scrambled from one car to the next. At last Hannah stopped, and they rested, panting, against the huge wheel of a customized truck. Now they could see directly into the brilliantly lit barn.

  Pip’s first instinct was that he was dreaming. One Christmas his parents had taken him to the theatre and he had been awestruck by the dazzling spectacle of costumed characters. Now he witnessed something equally out of this world: inside the barn a surreal pageant was taking place. Thirty or more ghosts were gathered. Each figure was dressed entirely in white robes with a flaming torch in his right hand. Many of the creatures had ropes around their waists and long-armed white gloves, and over each heart was the symbol of a white cross in a red circle, with a single drop of blood at its centre.

  But what made Pip’s skin crawl was that where their heads should be, each ghost-man wore an unfeasibly tall pointed hood with black sockets, like the gaping eyes of a skull.

  Pip gasped for breath and, without thinking, reached out and slipped his arm round Hannah’s waist.

  One of the spooks was speaking. His voice sailed out through the still night so they could clearly hear each word.

  ‘Ah wanna thank every las’ one o’ you for comin’ out tonight. The Exalted Cyclops will be joinin’ us real soon, so while we waitin’ we gonna go raight ahead and take the oath. Klansmen, when you ready now.’

  Each man extended his left arm in salute, and with each call and response they slowly raised their torches.

  ‘For God!’

  ‘FOR GOD!’

  ‘For Country!’

  ‘FOR COUNTRY!’

  ‘For Race!’

  ‘FOR RACE!’

  ‘For the Klan!’

  ‘FOR TH’ KLAN!’

  The smell of burning paraffin reached Pip’s nostrils. And as he and Hannah stared transfixed at the bizarre scene, an even more sinister figure emerged from the shadows at the back of the barn. The white followers turned respectfully as he emerged, and formed a circle around him. The leader was taller than the others and his robe was red as blood.

  With one voice, their shouts echoed into the night. ‘WE GREET YOU, EXALTED CYCLOPS!’

  The red leader raised his burning torch high above his conical head.

  ‘Klansmen, I greet you, ’an ah ’pologize for the delay. You know ah travel all around, state to state, organizin’ trainin’ camps and suchlaike; workin’ tairelessly for th’ Invisible Empire.’

  There were murmurs of appreciation and approval.

  ‘Now, y’all know why we’re here. We’re here to defend our country ’gainst the invasion o’ Negroes, Mexies, Injuns, Jews an’ all them . . . non-Whaites who’s tryin’ t’ steal it from our hainds.’

  ‘That’s raight!’

  ‘You tell ‘em, Cyclops!’

  ‘Raight now there’s fellahs laike that Martin Luther King claimin’ Black folks is the equal o’ honest Whaite men. You know that ain’t raight!’

  ‘It’s a lie!’

  ‘String ’em up.’

  ‘All across ’merica, Negroes, Jews ’n homosexuals have been workin’ t’ take control of the teevee, the schools, noospapers, banks . . .’

  ‘We seen it!’

  ‘But we faightin’ back now! Now the Klan is gittin’ STRONG again. Yessir, RACIAL PURITY IS ’MERICA’S SECURITY! We got brothers raight here from the pol-eece – we got judges – we got teachers! You know wha’ that means? It means we got the law on our saide. It means we got edoocation on our saide . . . and thars summat else we got too: we got GUNS on our saide!’

  ‘Tell it, Exalted Titan!’

  ‘Whaite Power!’

  ‘Tonaight, mah brothers, is the Gatherin’ of the Klans. Every Klavern fer miles is out huntin’. I understan’ some o’ our knight brothers will be ridin’ over to show solidarity wi’ the Dead River Klan.’

  There was thunderous applause and shouting.

  ‘Raight now, we gonna step outsaide fer th’ Illumination. Knights of the Dead River Klan, raise the cross!’

  Hannah and Pip huddled against each other in the shadow of the huge vehicle. They stared wide-eyed as ten or more hooded men bent down and raised a huge wooden cross to their shoulders. The cross was the length of a mature tree, wrapped tightly in sacks and sheets, bound with baling wire. Carrying the cross as ceremoniously as a coffin, the ghosts stepped into the night.

  Pip felt weak with horror, but even in that hellish moment he rejoiced at the warmth of Hannah’s body against his.

  He turned and whispered fiercely into her ear. ‘Hannah, we gotta leave this minute! Why you wanna be here? C’mon now, let’s run ‘afore they find us.’

  But Hannah just pushed Amigo a little further under the truck and stared at the strange torchlit procession winding into the fields.

  At the brow of the hill the ghosts laid down the enormous cross. Now two of them stepped forward with gasoline cans and doused the fabric around it. There must have been a ready-dug hole, because the band of ghouls inserted the foot of the cross into the ground and, slowly and majestically, hauled it upright.

  From their perspective, three hundred yards down the slope, the children saw the strange shapes in silhouette – the conical men and the huge crucifix against the endless sequined sky.

  ‘Klansmen, salute the crauss!’

  The men formed a circle around the cross, arms spread wide, flaming torches in every right hand.

  ‘Klansmen, do you accept the laight?’

  ‘YES! WE ACCEPT THE LAIGHT!’

  ‘Klansmen, approach the crauss.’

  At the order of the red leader, the white army glided forward.

  ‘May th’ lai
ght of the crauss shaine down . . . ON THE MIGHTY KU KLUX KLAN!’

  Simultaneously, the ghost-men hurled their torches at the cross, which erupted into flames, leaping and licking into the sky.

  The sight of the blazing cross, along with the whoops and howls of those masked spectres, was more than Pip could bear. He seized Hannah’s hand and dragged her to her feet.

  ‘Hannah, I seen what you wanted me to see. Now it’s your turn to listen, you understand? I read about these people – the Ku Klux Klan, ain’t they? These are evil people, Hannah. They ain’t got nothing to do with you an’ me. We gonna turn round and head back.’

  Pip spoke with such desperation and conviction that Hannah did not resist, and at last she followed him meekly down the hill.

  It was exactly the wrong time to leave! At that moment Pip felt a rhythmic pounding beneath his feet and, to his absolute horror, saw a dozen horsemen thundering towards them. The faceless riders were like medieval knights in their streaming white robes; even their horses were hooded. They carried banners, flags and guns.

  ‘Run, Hannah! Run!’ he screamed.

  But it was too late. The leading rider had spotted the children and turned his horse so sharply that it whinnied and reared on its hind legs. Leaving his fellow Klansmen, he thundered towards them.

  In an instant Hannah had set off down the hillside, with Amigo close behind. But Pip knew that even Hannah could not outrun a racing stallion. In that wild moment he turned towards the galloping horseman, spread his arms and legs and waited for the explosion to come.

  In every cell he anticipated the impact of that huge flying beast and the sensation of his skull being smashed to bloody fragments by iron-clad hooves. But at the last second the immense horse reared up, almost throwing its rider to the ground.

  The knight was a skilful horseman: he brought his animal under control while simultaneously leaping from the saddle. Pip felt the colossal weight of the man crash upon him and tumbled breathless to the ground.