Ghosts and Grisly Things - Softcover

Campbell, Ramsey

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1901914089 ISBN 13: 9781901914085

Publisher: Firebird Distributing, 1998

Synopsis

Book by Campbell, Ramsey

About this title

About the Author

Ramsey Campbell has won more awards than any other living author of horror or dark fantasy, including four World Fantasy Awards, nine British Fantasy Awards, three Bram Stoker Awards, and two International Horror Guild Awards. Critically acclaimed both in the US and in England, Campbell is widely regarded as one of the genre's literary lights for both his short fiction and his novels. His classic novels, such as The Face that Must Die, The Doll Who Ate His Mother, and The Influence, set new standards for horror as literature. His collection, Scared Stiff, virtually established the subgenre of erotic horror.

Ramsey Campbell's works have been published in French, German, Italian, Spanish, Japanese, and several other languages. He has been President of the British Fantasy Society and has edited critically acclaimed anthologies, including Fine Frights. Campbell's best known works in the US are Obsession, Incarnate, Midnight Sun, and Nazareth Hill.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

THE SAME IN ANY LANGUAGE
 
The day my father is to take me where the lepers used to live is hotter than ever. Even the old women with black scarves wrapped around their heads sit inside the bus station instead of on the chairs outside the tavernas. Kate fans herself with her straw hat like a basket someone's sat on and gives my father one of those smiles they've made up between them. She's leaning forwards to see if that's our bus when he says "Why do you think they call them lepers, Hugh?"
I can hear what he's going to say, but I have to humour him. "I don't know."
"Because they never stop leaping up and down."
It takes him much longer to say the first four words than the rest of it. I groan because he expects me to, and Kate lets off one of her giggles I keep hearing whenever they stay in my father's and my room at the hotel and send me down for a swim. "If you can't give a grin, give a groan," my father says for about the millionth time, and Kate pokes him with her freckly elbow as if he's too funny for words. She annoys me so much that I say "Lepers don't rhyme with creepers, dad."
"I never thought they did, son. I was just having a laugh. If we
can't laugh we might as well be dead, ain't that straight, Kate?" He
winks at her thigh and slaps his own instead, and says to me "Since
you're so clever, why don't you find out when our bus is coming."
"That's it now."
"And I'm Hercules." He lifts up his fists to make his muscles bulge for Kate and says "You're telling us that tripe spells A Flounder?"
"Elounda, dad. It does. The letter like a Y upside down is how they write an L."
"About time they learned how to write properly, then," he says, staring around to show he doesn't care who hears. "Well, there it is if you really want to trudge round another old ruin instead of having a swim."
"I expect he'll be able to do both once we get to the village,"
Kate says, but I can tell she's hoping I'll just swim. "Will you two gentlemen see me across the road?"
My mother used to link arms with me and my father when he was living with us. "I'd better make sure it's the right bus," I say and run out so fast I can pretend I didn't hear my father calling me back.
A man with skin like a boot is walking backwards in the dust behind the bus, shouting "Elounda" and waving his arms as if he's pulling the bus into the space in line. I sit on a seat opposite two Germans who block the aisle until they've taken off their rucksacks, but my father finds three seats together at the rear. "Aren't you with us, Hugh?" he shouts, and everyone on the bus looks at him.
When I see him getting ready to shout again I walk down the
aisle. I'm hoping nobody notices me, but Kate says loudly "It's a
pity you ran off like that, Hugh. I was going to ask if you'd like an ice cream."
"No thank you," I say, trying to sound like my mother when she was only just speaking to my father, and step over Kate's legs. As the bus rumbles uphill I turn as much of my back on her as I can, and watch the streets.
Aghios Nikolaos looks as if they haven't finished building it. Some of the tavernas are on the bottom floors of blocks with no roofs, and sometimes there are more tables on the pavements outside than in. The bus goes downhill again as if it's hiccuping, and when it reaches the bottomless pool where young people with no children stay in the hotels with discos, it follows the edge of the bay. I watch the white boats on the blue water, but really I'm seeing die conductor coming down the aisle and feeling as if a lump is growing in my stomach from me wondering what my father will say to him.
The bus is climbing beside the sea when he reaches us. "Three for leper land," my father says.
The conductor stares at him and shrugs. "As far as you go," Kate says, and rubs herself against my father. "All the way."
When the conductor pushes his lips forwards out of his moustache and beard my father begins to get angry, unless he's pretending. "Where you kept your lepers. Spiny Lobster or whatever you call the damned place."
"It's Spinalonga, dad, and it's off the coast from where we're going."
"I know that, and he should." My father is really angry now. "Did you get that?" he says to the conductor. "My ten-year-old can speak your lingo, so don't tell me you can't speak ours."
The conductor looks at me, and I'm afraid he wants me to talk Greek. My mother gave me a little computer that translates words into Greek when you type them, but I've left it at the hotel because my father said it sounded like a bird which only knew one note. "We're going to Elounda, please," I stammer.
"Elounda, boss," the conductor says to me. He takes the money from my father without looking at him and gives me the tickets and change. "Fish is good by the harbour in the evening," he says, and goes to sit next to the driver while the bus swings round the zigzags of the hill road.
My father laughs for the whole bus to hear. "They think you're so important, Hugh, you won't be wanting to go home to your mother."
Kate strokes his head as if he's her pet, then she turns to me. "What do you like most about Greece?"
She's trying to make friends with me like when she kept saying I could call her Kate, only now I see it's for my father's sake. All she's done is make me think how the magic places seemed to have lost their magic because my mother wasn't there with me, even Knossos where Theseus killed the Minotaur. There were just a few corridors left that might have been the maze he was supposed to find his way out of, and my father let me stay in them for a while, but then he lost his temper because all the guided tours were in foreign languages and nobody could tell him how to get back to the coach. We nearly got stuck overnight in Heraklion, when he'd promised to take Kate for dinner that night by the bottomless pool. "I don't know," I mumble, and gaze out the window.
"I like the sun, don't you? And the people when they're being nice, and the lovely clear sea."
It sounds to me as if she's getting ready to send me off swimming again. They met while I was, our second morning at the hotel. When I came out of the sea my father had moved his towel next to hers and she was giggling. I watch Spinalonga Island float over the horizon like a ship made of rock and grey towers, and hope she'll think I'm agreeing with her if that means she'll leave me alone. But she says "I suppose most boys are morbid at your age. Let's hope you'll grow up to be like your father."
She's making it sound as if the leper colony is the only place I've wanted to visit, but it's just another old place I can tell my mother I've been. Kate doesn't want to go there because she doesn't like old places--she said if Knossos was a palace she was glad she's not a queen. I don't speak to her again until the bus has stopped by the harbour.
There aren't many tourists, even in the shops and tavernas lined up along the winding pavement. Greek people who look as if they were born in the sun sit drinking at tables under awnings like stalls in a market. Some priests who I think at first are wearing black hatboxes on their heads march by, and fishermen come up from their boats with octopuses on sticks like big kebabs. The bus turns round in a cloud of dust and petrol fumes while Kate hangs onto my father with one hand and flaps the front of her flowery dress with the other. A boatman stares at the tops of her boobs which make me think of spotted fish and shouts "Spinalonga" with both hands round his mouth.
"We've hours yet," Kate says. "Let's have a drink. Hugh may even get that ice cream if he's good."
If she's going to talk about me as though I'm not there I'll do my best not to be. She and my father sit under an awning and I kick dust on the pavement outside until she says "Come under, Hugh. We don't want you with sunstroke."
I don't want her pretending she's my mother, but if I say so I'll only spoil the day more than she already has. I shuffle to the table next to the one she's sharing with my father and throw myself on a chair. "Well, Hugh," she says, "do you want one?"
"No thank you," I say, even though the thought of an ice cream or a drink starts my mouth trying to drool.
"You can have some of my lager if it ever arrives," my father says at the top of his voice, and stares hard at some Greeks sitting at a table. "Anyone here a waiter?" he says, lifting his hand to his mouth as if he's holding a glass.
When all the people at the table smile and raise their glasses and shout cheerily at him, Kate says "I'll find someone and then I'm going to the little girls' room while you men have a talk."
My father watches her crossing the road and gazes at the doorway of the taverna once she's gone in. He's quiet for a while, then he says "Are you going to be able to say you had a good time?"
I know he wants me to enjoy myself when I'm with him, but I also think what my mother stopped herself from saying to me is true--that he booked the holiday in Greece as a way of scoring off her by taking me somewhere she'd always wanted to go. He stares at the taverna as if he can't move until I let him, and I say "I expect so, if we go to the island."
"That's my boy. Never give in too easily." He smiles at me with one side of his face. "You don't mind if I have some fun as well, do you?"
He's making it sound as though he wouldn't have had much fun if it had just been die two of us, and I think that was how he'd started to feel before he met Kate. "It's your holiday," I say.
He's opening his mouth after another long silence when Kate comes out of the taverna with a man carrying two lagers and a lemonade on a tray. "See that you thank her," my father tells me.
I didn't ask for lemonade. He said I could have some lager. I say "Thank you very much," and feel my throat tightening as I gulp the lemonade, because her eyes are saying that she's won.
"That must have been welcome," she says when I put down the empty glass. "Another? Then I should find yourself something to do. Your father and I may be here for a while."
"Have a swim," my father suggests.

Edition details

• Publisher: Firebird Distributing
• Publication date: 1998
• ISBN 10: 1901914089
• ISBN 13: 9781901914085
• Binding: Paperback
• Language: English
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 320