The Rainbow Man Page 9

  Daniel turned, and looked at John—who was also watching the match, shouting things out that Daniel couldn’t hear above the rest of the crowd. But was he shouting? Wasn’t he just talking, mouthing words Daniel couldn’t make out? Mikey, still holding his hand, was jumping up and down himself with excitement. Daniel’s eyes searched out Jill and Greg, who thankfully had also seen this judging from their nods of acknowledgement. Greg was also preoccupied with his father’s antics on the pitch, however. Mr. Welles had now thrown the ball into the face of one of the rival players, then caught it on the rebound. The man in orange collapsed to his knees, blood splattering his orange top.

  John was smiling, but there was also something wrong with his eyes. It was only a momentary thing, but they were flashing red, then yellow, then green, then blue then—

  John grinned, and faced Daniel. He felt a shiver run up and down his spine, but then John turned his gaze on first Jill, then Greg.

  The pitch had become a battlefield by this time, all thoughts of the game abandoned. It was a free for all fight that the referee had no hope of controlling, and that members of the crowd were now joining in, pushing down or leaping over the barriers meant to hold them back.

  More fists flew, knuckles connecting with cheeks, teeth loosened, people on the pitch being kicked while they were down. Daniel’s mother was about to enter the fray, but he rushed over to hold her back. “Daniel…” she murmured. Her stare was pretty vacant and he wondered what good she thought she could do out there anyway.

  “You’ll get beaten to a pulp!” he warned her, refusing to

  let go.

  The police—there as a precautionary measure most weeks—joined in now, and more were summoned from the station. It wasn’t long before Yeats was on the scene, the sirens from the cars seemingly snapping people out of their frenzies. Those still conscious and fighting looked up, then down again at what they were doing: as if they didn’t know why exactly they were doing it. Some of the other staff from the hospital, a couple of nurses and another junior doctor, arrived as well. Daniel finally released his grip, so his mother wandered off to join the police and the rest of the collective authorities attempting to sort this mess out. All while John looked on, still grinning.

  When Daniel searched for Jill and Greg, he saw they’d been whisked off by their parents. He’d catch up with them later. But he did catch Yeats’ eye, and the man came across to him. “What happened here?” he asked, as if Daniel was the only voice of reason left.

  Daniel glanced across at John, and Yeats followed his gaze. Then he bent, rubbing his forehead and placing his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I think you and I need to have another little talk,” he said seriously.

  Daniel stared again at John, but the man was walking off with Mikey.

  “Only if you’re ready to listen this time,” Daniel replied.

  “I’m ready,” said the policeman. “Trust me, I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THEY HADN’T HAD THE TALK THERE AND THEN, because anyone could see Yeats’ hands were full sorting out who to charge and who not to. But Daniel had gone along to the station a couple of hours later to see him, as soon as Susan had come round to “help look after Mikey.” Daniel wasn’t overly happy about leaving his brother with her and John, but it was better than leaving him with just the stranger. Whatever else happened, he knew Susan wouldn’t do anything to hurt Mikey.

  I don’t think she cares… and I don’t think she has a choice…

  He shook off the thoughts; he had to go see Yeats. And he had to do it today, while all this was fresh in the man’s mind.

  In complete contrast to the last time he’d visited, the place was chock-a-block with people, a lot of them demanding to see loved ones who’d been arrested during what they called “a harmless bit of sporting fun.” That harmless fun had actually resulted in at least fifteen people being admitted to hospital with serious injuries—one with critical internal damage—and many more having to be treated for other wounds. It was a day no one at Shorepoint would forget in a hurry.

  “Not here,” Yeats had said to Daniel, guiding him through the station to the fire exit on the other side. Not even his office was suitable apparently, because they would be seen in there, and because they’d be harassed. “This is insane,” he’d said once they were free of the place. He ran his hand through his hair, and Daniel recognised the bloodshot eyes of someone who hadn’t slept for a good few nights. “What’s happening to this place, Daniel?”

  “I kept trying to warn you,” he told Yeats. “It’s him… it’s—”

  “John,” Yeats finished for him.

  “I thought before that he was just good at getting people to do things, but it’s more than that. It’s like he’s making things happen.”

  “That’s… look, we’ve talked about this before. It’s just not possible, Daniel.”

  “And how many riots have you known to happen during a Shorepoint rugby match?” Yeats gazed at him; he knew Daniel had a point. “I saw him. He was mouthing words.”

  “What kind of words?”

  “I don’t know, I couldn’t hear him above everyone else.”

  “Something that made all this happen? Do you realise how that sounds?”

  “About as crazy as his eyes turning different colours when it happened,” Daniel answered. “But I wasn’t the only one who saw it this time. You can ask Jill and Greg. They were there too.”

  Yeats nodded thoughtfully. “I will, in due course. I’ll have to… Greg’s dad was one of the worst offenders, by all accounts.”

  Daniel thought about saying, “Yes, and not just on the rugby pitch,” but bit his tongue. That wasn’t his business to discuss with Yeats. But he did say, “Surely you can see that people are acting strangely. Out of character?” When Yeats didn’t reply, he continued: “I’ve been meaning to come and see you since I heard about…”

  “You’re talking about McLean, aren’t you?” said Yeats, running that hand through his hair again. “Come on, walk with me, son.”

  Though there was a part of Daniel that rankled at his choice of words, another part felt warm inside. The part that hadn’t heard that term from a man in a long time. He fell in step alongside Yeats and that warmth spread when the sergeant put a comforting arm across his shoulders. For a second or two it was like this was some parallel universe where Yeats really had been his father, and was here with him now, in his hour of need. But then Daniel felt guilty for even thinking such a thing.

  “You’re right,” Yeats admitted as they wandered off down the path, further away from the station. “You’ve been right all along.”

  At last, thought Daniel, we’re getting somewhere. “So you believe me?”

  “I… I think so…” said Yeats. “I don’t know what other explanation there could be for what’s happening to this place. I certainly don’t believe that McLean just went nuts and attacked his new wife. I’ve known the guy pretty much all his life.” It wasn’t hard to know someone all their life in Shorepoint. Come to think of it, most people had known most people all their lives here.

  “That was him, too,” Daniel spluttered. “John. He talked to them both at their wedding. I don’t know what he said but… well, the next thing I heard...”

  Yeats shook his head. “I really don’t know what to make of it all. One minute everything’s great, the next—”

  “He’s set everything up, made people feel fantastic only to take it all away from them,” Daniel said, surprising himself with his own explanation.

  Yeats laughed softly. “Isn’t that just so…” He shook his head when he saw Daniel’s puzzled expression. “We’re very good at that, aren’t we? Building people up only to knock them down again. People, I mean.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Oh, but we are,” Yeats said, but he’d misunderstood Daniel.

  He’d been about to say, he wasn’t sure John was a person at all.

  But he already was dead, don’t
you get it? He. Was. Dead. That’s part of the problem.

  “But you’ll learn more about all that as you get older,” Yeats carried on, then he seemed to drift off into thought. “I never wanted this job, you know,” he said suddenly, taking Daniel by surprise. “It was just when your dad…” Another shake of the head. “Did I ever tell you about when that station back there burnt down?”

  Daniel shook his head.

  “There had been a spate of arson incidents all over the island, and your dad and I were looking into it.”

  Arson? That didn’t sound like the kind of thing that happened on Shorepoint even now, let alone back then in the 90s. But then Daniel remembered what had been going on lately, and it didn’t seem all that ridiculous by comparison.

  “We were getting close to making an arrest, and I think the guy knew that. Fella called Hamilton it was. Something…” Yeats made a circular motion up against his temple with his forefinger. “Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly all there. They reckon some people just want to see the whole world burn, for kicks. He was one of those. Lucky he hadn’t killed anyone, actually.” Yeats drifted off into his thoughts again, only coming back when he remembered he had an audience—albeit of one. “Anyway, it was late at night and there weren’t many of us back at base, just your dad and me and a couple of other officers. We were filling in paperwork.” Yeats turned to Daniel as they walked.

  He’s thinking again how much I look like him.

  “This was before McLean had even joined the force. He was still probably about your age, maybe a bit younger. But Weeks was there, on duty. Weeks has always been there, on duty.” Yeats said this with another small laugh, then it faded. “They said afterwards Hamilton had used some kind of accelerant, don’t ask me all the ins and outs because I still don’t... The next thing we knew, the station was on fire. Someone raised the alarm, but by that time me, your dad, and the others were trapped.”

  Daniel was gripped by this story, the first time he’d heard anything like it. The first time Yeats had really spoken about Daniel’s father since his passing. “What happened then?”

  Yeats shook his head. “I froze. I mean I literally froze up: I was useless. But your dad… I tell you, if it weren’t for him, we’d all be dead. Me, Weeks. He was a genuine hero, Daniel, and don’t let anyone else tell you different. Don’t you think any different. He wasn’t always how you remember him from the hospital, back then he was a different man.”

  You know, you really do look so much like him. Especially before—

  “He was strong, brave. He got us out while the whole place was burning down around our ears. He got us out.”

  Daniel blinked, suddenly aware that they’d stopped walking. “What happened after that?” He wanted to know. He needed to know.

  “Like I say, he got us out of there.”

  “No,” Daniel was tugging at Yeats’ sleeve, just like Mikey used to do with his. “No, I mean with Hamilton.”

  “Your dad got him, too. Tracked him to the town hall where he was hiding out. Actually, it was that old dog he used to have... what was his name now?”

  “Shadow,” said Daniel.

  “Yeah, Shadow. That was it. I think Hamilton was planning to do that place too, maybe even burn himself up with it. But your dad stopped him, saved a lot of lives.” The pride was there in each and every word; the admiration. How had Daniel not known any of this before? Why had nobody ever told him? “He was wasted here on Shorepoint, your dad.” The exact same thing Daniel always thought of Yeats. “But I could really use his help right about now.”

  You’re not the only one, Daniel said to himself.

  “We need to find out who John is,” Daniel told Yeats. “Have you got any further with that?”

  The sergeant shook his head. “Even if the computers, the net wasn’t… For some reason I just haven’t wanted to, y’know? Perhaps it was something John said, or maybe I’m just scared of what I might find out.”

  “But we have to—”

  Yeats bowed down. “I’ve got quite a bit of a mess to clean up here, so I think I ought to be getting back. You head off now…” And before Daniel could do anything else, the policeman dragged him in and gave him a big hug. It surprised him not just because it was unexpected, but also because it was so tight it forced almost all of the air from Daniel’s body. Then, just as suddenly, Yeats had let go again.

  And he was walking away, back up the path towards the station again—like all this had just been a way to get the teenager away from the place.

  Daniel’s eyes trailed after the sergeant as he went, determined now that he was going to find out more about John. Find a way to stop him if he could.

  But whenever Daniel looked back on that moment, that hug, he couldn’t help feeling that Yeats had known even then.

  Known that they would never see each other again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BECAUSE OF WHAT HAD HAPPENED ON SUNDAY, there was no school the next day. Not that Daniel would’ve had any intentions of attending. He’d made sure his mobile was charged lately, so sent texts to Jill and Greg for a meet up. They had work to do and very little time in which to do it.

  “How are things back at home?” Daniel asked, directing the question at both of them, but knowing it would be Greg who answered first.

  “How do you think? My dad’s still at the station, they kept him overnight. And my mum just sat up crying.” She wasn’t the only one, judging from the state of Greg’s eyes. “I just want everything to be back the way it was!” he shouted, letting the anger out.

  “Me too,” said Jill, more quietly.

  “How’s Vincent?” asked Daniel, and she told him the dog was doing a little better that morning.

  “He’s taken some food and water, anyway.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t hold it for very long. “All right, so we’re here. What now?”

  Daniel told them about his conversation with Yeats, that the sergeant did at least seem to believe what he’d been trying to tell him about John.

  “So what’s he going to do about it?”

  “I don’t think there’s anything he can do right now. John’s being very smart, he’s not doing anything directly. He’s not actually doing anything illegal, either.”

  “But… but we all saw his eyes,” Jill blurted out. “Didn’t we? I mean… I think I saw them.”

  Daniel took her hands, ignoring the grunt from Greg. “You did see it. I tried to tell myself I hadn’t seen it either, at first. But I did, and so did you. It happens whenever he… influences something. And right now, he’s influencing things for the worse. The Rainbow Man’s at last beginning to show his true colours.”

  “You haven’t answered her question,” Greg pointed out, through gritted teeth. “What now?”

  Daniel let go of Jill’s hands. “We need information. The net’s still down at the station, how is it at your places?” Both Jill and Greg confirmed it had been screwed up since the storm and was still the same. “And I bet if we try to look anything up regarding this, we won’t be able to. The system at the library is useless too.” Daniel stopped, grinning suddenly. “But the library also has books… We might not be able to find out who our mysterious John Dee is, but we might be able to get a lead on what he is.”

  They went off to the library, where Hilary Thickett approved of them using the time off from school to study. “It’s the only way to get ahead in the world, children,” she said. She would have made a great teacher herself, thought Daniel…back in 1951! And they were definitely not children. They were trying to help save this community, but of course they couldn’t say any of that to Miss Thickett. For one thing they didn’t know whether the Rainbow Man’s influence extended to her as well. Which was why they didn’t ask for her help in their search, digging out any references in books pertaining to that particular weather phenomenon.

  Greg looked more than a bit out of his depth here, sticking mainly to passing books along that might be of interest. Jill, howev
er, was in her element. She’d taken up residence on a table near the back of the library, spreading the tomes around her. “I’ve got something,” she said, then lowered her voice, looking around to make sure Miss Thickett hadn’t heard her. She tapped a picture in a book that showed a Biblical scene, a rainbow arcing down after a flood. “It’s connected with Noah here, and the great flood, signifying the covenant between man and God that there wouldn’t be another event like it again.”

  Daniel shook his head; he couldn’t see any significance in that. After all, you could hardly call what had happened on the island a flood. The storm had been pretty bad, but not that bad. “What else?”

  Greg passed her another book and she flipped through the pages, before settling on something else. “Ah, here…In ancestral times in Japan, rainbows were often seen as omens of bad luck because they represented snakes.”

  “Ours certainly brought bad luck, but do you really think that’s what we’re dealing with—some kind of snake demon?” said Daniel.

  “I…No, it doesn’t matter,” said Greg.

  Daniel looked up at him. “No, go on. What is it?”

  “It’s just that I remember a story my dad once told me, about the spirits of drowned men following rainbows to dry land so they could be buried there. It’s an old fisherman’s legend.” Daniel exchanged looks with Jill. “I just thought… you said you didn’t think John was breathing when you found him,” Greg continued.

  It certainly rang more than a few bells. So what, an evil spirit? John certainly seemed solid enough… But did all spirits have to be see-through or floating around?

  “Why would he be doing the things he’s doing, though?” said Jill, asking the question that was also on Daniel’s mind.