The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 4) (4 page)

At five in the evening Bill emerged from the treehouse, the door creaking open on squeaky hinges. He joined Fritz, who had his feet propped up on the dining table, leaning back on his chair, almost asleep in what must have been a very uncomfortable position.

“Fritz?” Bill said.

Fritz started, flying back and hitting the ground.

“Where are Jack and Francis?” Bill said.

“You scared me half to death!” Fritz said, dusting himself off. “They’re in their room taking a nap.”

“And Ernest?” Bill said.

“Sitting by the cliff, feeling sorry for himself,” Fritz said.

“I’d better go see him,” Bill said. “I can’t seem to solve one mess before falling into another.”

“Things will get better,” Fritz said.

“I hope so,” Bill said.

“Any improvement with Mother?” Fritz said.

Bill shook his head.

“Shall I watch her while you’re away?” Fritz said.

“Can you?” Bill said.

Fritz climbed the ladder to the treehouse and entered the bedroom. Bill sighed, got to his feet and walked the short path along the edge of the clearing.

The jungle was noisiest at night, whirring and snorting and shrieking from a thousand different creatures, like an orchestra with no conductor. He’d never noticed how quiet Switzerland had been before, even with the car horns and sirens.

Fireflies lit the path like glowing breadcrumbs, all the way to the cliff edge. Ernest was sat on one of the upturned rocks, the world bathed in a silver light like a fairy tale.

“Ernest?” Bill said.

Ernest started. He put a hand to his chest.

“You made me jump!” he said.

“I seem to have a talent for that,” Bill said. “You should take more care. There could be anything in this jungle.”

“Yes, Father,” Ernest said. He sounded like he wished there was something in the jungle to put him out of his misery.

“How’s your leg?” Bill said.

Ernest looked at it and lifted it, as if feeling for the first time what it was like to have one.

“It’s all right,” he said.

The waves washed against the large rocks in the bay, the spray rising like white trees.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Ernest said. “If I’d thought… If I knew…”

“It’s all right,” Bill said. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” Ernest said. “I should have been more careful.”

“You’re the most careful among all of us,” Bill said. “Any more careful and you’d wear a cotton wool jacket.”

Ernest smiled.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Bill said. “I was upset and didn’t mean what I said. It could have been any of us who gave your mother that hat. I was thinking of making her one myself. It’s easy to forget we’re an alien species to this island, that there are things here that can do us harm, things we don’t even know exist yet. Even the smallest, most innocuous of things.”

“If you’re going to bring up the purple fruit again, I swear I’m going to scream,” Ernest said.

“No,” Bill said, deep creases forming on his forehead.

He slid a finger under his shirt collar and loosened the top button. He mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that, Father?” Ernest said.

Bill scratched his head and mumbled again.

“Father?” Ernest said, resting a hand on Bill’s shoulder.

His hand came away damp. Bill’s fringe was soaked and clung to his forehead. He swayed on his stool and then collapsed onto the ground.

“Father?” Ernest said, getting to his feet. “Get up! Not you too! Father!”

Ernest turned toward Falcon’s Nest. He cupped his hands over his mouth.

“Fritz!” Ernest shouted. “Fritz! Father’s sick! Help!”

Fritz came running over. Together they picked him up and carried him to the treehouse.

“Do you think it’s infectious?” Ernest said.

“I don’t know,” Fritz said, pulling his father up the ladder. “If it is, I think it’s safe to say we’ve already been exposed to it.”

Ernest’s wound made climbing difficult. They laid Bill on the bed beside Liz.

“What are we going to do?” Ernest said. “We’re not doctors. How are we going to figure out what’s wrong with them?”

“What did he say to you?” Fritz said.

“He mumbled something about green stripes,” Ernest said.

“Green stripes?” Fritz said. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Ernest said. “But he did look out of it. What did he say to you?”

“About the illness?” Fritz said. “Nothing. Only that it probably isn’t an allergic reaction, so far as he could tell.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” Ernest said.

“What can we do?” Fritz said.

Bill’s eyes flickered over the front pages of half a dozen exposed newspapers. Most described the upcoming election, but there was another story tucked in the top corner of each page, a story about an increasing number of deaths associated with an illness originating in the Middle East. There was a grainy image of an awkward stiff figure lurching down an alleyway.

Bill snapped out of his reverie as the tram squealed and came to a stop.

Some people got off, others got on. Bill gripped his small leather case close to his chest and peered at the tram door. The bell dinged and the doors began to close. Bill’s shoulders sank with disappointment. At the last second a woman in a red dress hopped onto the compartment, the doors sliding shut behind her.

The other men turned to look at her, some openly, others feigning disinterest. Bill was one of the former, watching her as she took a seat a gentleman vacated for her. When she sat down Bill could only make out the back of her head, her blonde hair done up in a bob, and one smooth cheek of her profile as she read her magazine.

Bill spun the wedding ring around his finger, in deep thought.

The Mickey Mouse clock on the wall ticked down the seconds, his beaming grin at odds with the antiseptic surroundings. The patient chair on the other side of Bill’s desk was empty. He sat playing solitude on his computer. There was a knock on the door.

“Come,” Bill said.

The door opened, and a penis peered around the doorframe.

“I’ve got the worst headache,” the penis said in a high-pitched voice. “Somebody kept slamming my head into a deep dark hole and I couldn’t get out. My body became stiff and my skin turned red with friction burns. Eventually I was sick, throwing up all over myself. I was so weak and limp.”

“And I thought you could sink no lower,” Bill said, shutting his computer down.

A large fat man in a white coat leaned on the doorframe, plastic penis in hand.

“Oh, come on,” Dennis said. “It’s hilarious.”

“It was,” Bill said, nodding. “The first time.”

“The old ones are the best,” Dennis said.

“You’re old and you’re not,” Bill said.

Dennis came into Bill’s office, closing the door behind him.

“What’s up with you today?” he said.

“Nothing,” Bill said, placing his stethoscope on his desk.

“Something’s obviously wrong, but you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want,” Dennis said.

He put his fingertips to his temples.

“I shall use my powers of diagnosis to figure it out,” he said.

He made a screeching noise and then quietened down.

“You suffered a particularly bad sexual episode last night,” he said.

Bill gave him a flat stare.

“No?” Dennis said. “That’s usually the diagnosis.”

“That’s because you have sex on the brain,” Bill said.

“I’m a urologist,” Dennis said. “Comes with the territory.”

Dennis made another loud screech.

“Do you have to do that?” Bill said.

“You’re worried Liz is having an affair,” Dennis said.

“Nope,” Bill said, hanging up his white coat.

“You should,” Dennis said. “She’s a beautiful woman.”

“Can I say again how glad I am you never went into psychiatry?” Bill said.

“So am I,” Dennis said. “The pay sucks.”

“Are you ready for lunch?” Bill said.

“One more try,” Dennis said, and he screeched again. “You’re worried you’ve not reached your full potential, that your life is slipping through your fingers and you can’t do anything about it, except there
is
something you can do, but you don’t like what it entails.”

Bill blinked. He opened his mouth to reply but no words came out.

“How did you know?” he said.

Dennis made a fart noise with his lips.

“We all feel like that,” Dennis said. “You just have to figure out a way to deal with it.”

He opened the door.

“Shall we?” he said.

Dennis’s tray, laden with food, clattered on the canteen table. He bent down and sniffed the mountain of macaroni and cheese.

“Ah,” he said. “Lunchtime. The best time of the day.”

He picked up his fork and attacked his food. Bill took a squashed sandwich out of his lunch bag and unfolded it.

“Do you want more out of life too?” he said.

“Look at me, Bill,” Dennis said, slapping his wide stomach. “There aren’t many people who do want more than me. I need more. I crave it. Sex in a marriage is like that sandwich of yours. Our other halves try their best, God bless them, but all their effort comes out flimsy and flat, tasteless. Which is why I get my meals from outside the home. It’s delicious, it’s tasty, and it comes in a variety of flavours.”

Bill thought for a moment before speaking.

“There’s a woman I see every day on the tram,” he said. “I don’t know who she is, where she comes from… But I get the sense she’s been on adventures, travelled the world, done things I can only dream of. I’ve always wanted to ask her about her life.”

Dennis smiled broadly, crooked teeth beaming. He slapped Bill hard on the back.

“For a while there I’d rather given up hope on you, Bill,” he said. “You always seemed so straight-laced, so
in control
.”

He said it like it was a bad thing.

“I knew you had a weakness somewhere,” he said. “Now it’s finally coming out.”

“What are you talking about?” Bill said.

Dennis smiled. He leaned in close.

“I know
exactly
what you mean,” he said. “This girl you see every day on the tram. She’s young I take it? Attractive?”

“Yes,” Bill said.

He paused.

“You think I… And she…” he said, waving his hands and snorting through his nose. “No, no, no. It’s nothing like that. She just looks interesting, that’s all.”

“We all think like that at the beginning,” Dennis said. “You need an outlet, Bill. You need to find a way to release all this built up tension you have, otherwise you’re going to explode. You need to find some excitement in your life.”

“My wife and kids-”

“ ‘-are all the excitement I need’,” Dennis said. “I know, I’ve used that one myself too. That’s fine for the wife, but what about in the real world?”

“How do you release it?” Bill said.

“Oh, there are many ways to release it,” Dennis said. “As many ways as there are sins. You just have to find the right way for you, that’s all.”

He leaned in close. Bill could smell the cheese on his breath. Dennis checked over his hefty shoulders and lowered his voice.

“There’s a lady or two I like to go see now and then,” he said. “You know, get a little check-up and keep the old ticker going. A life without a little adventure isn’t a life at all, Bill. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

He dug back into his macaroni and cheese.

“If you want, we can talk about it more tonight,” he said. “A swift drink after work maybe?”

“No, sorry,” Bill said, and he was surprised to find he actually did feel sorry. “I can’t tonight. I have to leave early to see Ernest in a trivia competition.”

“Living life to its fullest, I see,” Dennis said, shovelling another spoonful of cheese into his face.

“Wait,” Bill said. “Isn’t your daughter Jenny on the team too?”

“She doesn’t want me there anymore than I want to be there myself,” Dennis said. “While you’re forcing yourself to stay awake I’ll be forcing myself not to be too relaxed. But I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

Bill bit into his sandwich. It tasted as good as it looked.

The tram was half empty, the majority of the usual passengers still at work. Bill sat his briefcase on the seat beside him, thankful to have some real space for a change.

The tram slowed down and came to a stop. No passengers got off. Only one got on. Bill glanced up. He froze. The woman in the red dress took a seat two rows ahead of him.

Bill spun the wedding band around his finger. He pulled it up slightly, revealing the white weathered skin underneath, but couldn’t bring himself to remove it completely. Instead he wrapped his jacket over his hand. Bill took off his fedora, dry-swallowed, and then pulled up the collar of his shirt.

He got to his feet and stepped toward the woman. He stopped, half turned around, and then headed forward again. He stood beside her, his heart beating like a drum.

“Excuse me,” Bill said.

She looked up at him, her smile finding her eyes, dazzling.

“May I take this seat?” Bill said, gesturing to the seat beside her.

“Certainly,” the young woman said.

Bill realised he hadn’t ever heard her voice before. It was deep and dulcet, confident without being abrasive. She put her handbag on her lap. Bill sat down. The silence was crushing.

“Lovely weather today,” Bill said.

“It is,” the woman said.

Bill’s top lip became sweaty. He wiped it dry with a handkerchief.

“Do you know,” he said, clearing his throat, “I see you every morning but I don’t even know your name?”

She looked at him, her eyes glazing over with thought.

“Oh!” she said. “It’s you! You sit on the back row, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Bill said, elated she recognised him.

“My name’s Ines,” she said, offering her dainty hand. “Ines Kaufman.”

“Nice to meet you, Ines. I’m Bill Robinson. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”