Daye 3 / St. B

it had been
a beautiful green and grey
sunny day
and I was out walking alone

we'd decided that today
I must s.p.e.l.l. out the letters of his name
by my movements across the town
so I am three-quarters of a mile through the letter 't'
counting and dreaming my way along the enville road
close to the flat white stones
which had once been the dome
and remembering
that we used to meet out here
each evening
before travelling up into the city

when I was a boy
my grandmother warned me
that I am an attractor
and that I must
at all costs
avoid being caught in a storm
this afternoon
there is a storm in the air
it surely has reached down to brush itself against me
because a tingle of electricity
is travelling up to my shoulders
making the hairs on my arms
and on the back of my neck
suddenly stand on end

as I cross the next street
I notice a figure walking to meet me
and I know that walk
know that aura
yes, I know the aura before I even see the face
ha, he has come back
he has come back
and I know he is a ghost
because in the golden light
his skin is luminous and transparent
yes, I know he is a ghost
because as we make eye contact
his phantom eyes blink
the corner of his mouth twitches
he sniffs at the air
makes a joke about how I have outlived him

well I threw away my map then for the rest of the day
and we went for a drive out to ashley
along the hypnotic mazy  lanes
past little farmhouses and monstrous shuddering pylons
and through the once green meadows
that we expected to see
but could now only be imagined

once as we cross over the river b
I slip into forgetfullness
and happen to glance sideways at him
his image begins to flicker
as if this whole world is only a mirage
or a hologram
or as if I am watching a film that is running much too slowly
allowing me to see the dark bits between each frame
he notices this
mutters a curse
crosses himself

and after an hour or so
we stop the car
we get out
walk in silence for a while
the sky has become
black and immense
a huge thunderstorm is approaching
moving towards us speedily
every so often a bright fork of lightning
illuminates the space above the city in the distance

st. b gazes westwards
into the coming storm
and we take the winding overgrown path
towards a little wood
as we get closer
I notice hieroglyphics
carved or painted
onto each of the trees
chalk white or blood red
against the strange brown of the bark

there is a small lake
on the far side of the wood
I sit down at the reedy bank
gazing down at the sky
and my own iridescent reflection
gazing back up into another sky above me
all the while
st. b has continued walking
already halfway across the lake
looking intently into the storm clouds
which are now now directly overhead
he stops every so often
to make ripples in the water with his toes
a small fish rises to the surface
and briefly leaps right out of the lake
it's mouth opening and closing
has it's one mute bolt-from-the-blue revelation
before landing back into the disturbed waters
with a silent splash

there are faces
staring up at me
from beneath the surface of the lake
I look up
to see st. b beckoning me
to follow him across the water
but I cannot pull myself away
from the
staring faces under the water
cannot
bring myself to take that first step
lest I become one of them

st. b shakes his head
supresses a smirk
''come on'' he says, turning away
continues to walk across the lake
like he is just stepping through a puddle of water
''come with me'' he calls
I take a step forward into the water
only to sink up to my knees
I fall back into the reeds at the water's edge
he laughs
I look at him helplessly
''come with me'' he calls again
''I'm trying... but'' I say
''but the water is too deep..''
another step forward onto the lake
and I sink again up to my knees
I climb back out of the water
shaking my leg
a shrug of the shoulders
st. b smiles
''come with me'' he pleads
''I don't think I am able'' I reply

***

in the aftermath of ian c.
days weeks years
can't be sure
date-memory is long gone you see
st. b had just written pam anne
for bullet -
barely nineteen
he disappeared himself
into the next life
- more
frittering
front room of mex's house
curtains drawn
to keep out the swelter
nicky bonfire with stickers on his keys
blackened by turpentine
never could peel them back off again
mandy and sue
whispering and giggling
in the corner of the room
st. b and I
two mics
eye to eye
trading lines
two pairs of white ballet shoes
toe to toe
echobox mad with anticipation
words and strange music oozing out
from loudspeakers draped with paisley
splinter in my throbbing foot
from bare floorboards
begins it's journey upwards
in twenty years it will pierce my heart
and I will be changed forever
but for now
a shaft of sunlight streaks
through a crack in the door
into his eyes
into my memory
st. b
grins and nods in the direction
of the wolf girls
winks
and sings another chorus of ooohs