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    Murder, Magic, Merthings, More.
    Murder, Magic, Merthings, More.
    Murder, Magic, Merthings, More.
    Ebook118 pages1 hour

    Murder, Magic, Merthings, More.

    By Cynan Jones

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    About this ebook

    Stories from the DylanED Project, the education programme of the University of Wales Dylan Thomas Prize. Stories produced by Year 8 pupils from Bro Myrddin, Tre Gib, and Cwrt Sart schools.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCynan Jones
    Release dateDec 13, 2012
    Murder, Magic, Merthings, More.
    Author

    Cynan Jones

    Cynan Jones was born in Wales in 1975. He is the author of the award winning novella, The Long Dry, (Parthian 2006) and Everything I Found on the Beach, (Parthian 2011). His most recent novel, "Bird, Blood, Snow", was published in October 2013 (Seren). His next novel will be published by Granta in early 2014. He is currently working on another book.

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      Book preview

      Murder, Magic, Merthings, More. - Cynan Jones

      Prologue

      As William Riddell looked out over the chaotic, churning waters, he felt strange. Was it nausea? No, he hadn’t eaten yet. The only thing he’d had that morning was a bottle of water, handed to him by his loyal pilot Guido. It had tasted weird but with jet engines blaring near by it was hard to focus. But it couldn’t be vertigo! William had jumped from many, many miles higher. You see, William Riddell was a daredevil. He had jumped off the Empire State Building, the Pyramids, the Great Wall of China and even Mount Everest! But this would be another incredible stunt. Jumping from a plane, two thousand feet up into Niagara Falls! This would also be a significant memory for him for another reason. On this day, fifteen years ago, he and his late wife had met. Her name was Clair. She had meant the world to him. They had one child before she died in a tragic accident in New York. Jamie. He was fourteen now and at the hotel, watching his father risking his life on TV. William had become a daredevil after Clair had died. It had made him realise how short life could be.

      As these thoughts were buzzing in Riddell’s head like an aggressive swarm of bees, he had failed to hear a voice shouting over the whirring engines. It was Guido. Guido Mario Babolli was his full name. He had long, slick black hair, drove a Lamborghini and loved pizza and pasta. He was a walking, talking Italian stereotype.

      Mr Riddell! he shouted with a thick accent. The reporters are getting anxious!

      Right, ok! Riddell replied. And he jumped.

      This was his favourite part of the stunt. The free-falling down with no worries or cares. As he came close to the enormous target, he pulled the string to release the parachute. But nothing happened. He pulled again. Nothing. This was horrible. He had no control. He was plummeting. Plummeting to his death.

      In the plush, luxurious hotel room, Jamie Riddell tried to look away as he saw his father’s corpse float down the waterfall away from him. Forever. If someone on the site of the accident had looked to the sky closely, they would have seen a small, white aeroplane fly away into the distance.

      Chapter 1

      Three years had passed since that day. William Riddell may have gone but his spirit lived on in Jamie. Jamie was slim, short for his age, had short, dark brown hair and large, dark blue eyes. He was quite intelligent but found school boring. The only lesson he found interesting was Physics. He loved learning about planets and gravity and how and why things worked. He had only one main hobby. Skydiving. He’d been suspended for a month once for jumping off the school and onto the headmaster’s brand new BMW. He hadn’t been punished though. For the past three years now, he’d lived with his uncle James.

      James was an alcoholic, a thief, a pig and a filthy, filthy liar. In a nutshell, he was a bad, bad man. Jamie had once heard his father say Jamie was named after him. Once Jamie had met him he’d made a mental note to change his name as soon as possible. James didn’t care about, want or even love Jamie. He barely even fed Jamie.

      So Jamie made money for food by doing dares for children. He actually enjoyed this. He got paid for doing what he loved. But he didn’t realise that one jump could change everything.

      Chapter 2

      It was time. Every Saturday at four o’clock he would do dares for bored kids and then collect the cash. He was very cautious while doing it. He had kept his old house and bought a soft, comfy mattress from the bargain shop. He also never jumped from the same area twice in a month so that it was harder for the police to find him. Today, he would be jumping from the town bridge onto the riverbank.

      It was time. There was a large crowd calling his name, getting impatient. So he jumped. Like his father, with grace, elegance and a touch of style. But as he fell through the air, he felt it. His heart beating like a hyperactive drummer. He was sure it would beat its way out of his chest. But it stopped and he landed. He felt terrible. His head buzzed and his chest was burning. He was scared. Terrified. This had never happened before. He had to go to the doctor. If he hadn’t this story would never have happened. He pondered why this had happened. What was it and why was it happening. Why?

      First, the doctor gave Jamie some tests. Some eyesight, some hearing, some fitness and even a urine test. Then he had to wait in the colourless waiting room for his diagnosis. After what seemed like eternity, the doctor returned looking grim with a wad of papers in his hand. He said the words no one wants to hear.

      I’m sorry.

      Chapter 3

      Sporavitus, the doctor said in a quiet, calming voice.

      I’m sorry?

      It’s a rare form of heart cancer.

      How does it work? Jamie asked, his voice barely a whisper.

      If someone experiences a shock or thrill, their heart beats faster. If this happens too often their heart beats fast all of the time until they die of a heart attack.

      Is there any cure for it?

      Only one. But it’s extremely expensive. However, it says on my medical record you inherited your father’s money. Perhaps you have enough for it. Think about it and come and see me tomorrow if you’re interested.

      It was the longest night of Jamie’s life. Usually he couldn’t sleep because of James’s snoring but tonight it was for another reason. He had a choice. Save his own life or complete his dream. For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to see the world’s most famous landmarks. The Statue of Liberty, the Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the list went on and on. He wanted to see them, to understand why they’d been built. When he turned eighteen he would see them all. But he wouldn’t live to eighteen. He was going to die in six months. He wondered what his father would say. A new thought came to him. Everyone dies sooner or later so… With that he packed his bags and called a taxi.

      One Fatal Word

      Jess Rees, Cwrt Sart

      I was just walking. I didn’t mean for it to happen but that one word that changes a life forever can be fatal.

      I was trudging through the mud, listening to the crunch of brown leaves and the rustle of scarpering squirrels. I would pause at the odd thing, a mossy log amongst trampled twigs and dry branches. It is a forest of wonders with deepest secrets at the roots, imagination at the tips of trees. The roots of the past run deep through the ground, whisper to each other excitedly.

      The thing that struck me the most was not the ivy-covered cottage with a bird’s nest isolated in the chimney, out here in the middle of the forest. It was the gothic girl sitting on the porch, weeping into her lap and wringing her hands.

      She was around twenty but was a small girl. As I approached, a twig gave way beneath me; she stood up with sudden anxiety, taller than I would have imagined, with her eyes darting forward.

      Her jet black hair swung wildly, and she looked me in the eye.

      ‘Hello’ I called but she said nothing. She turned and seemed to vanish into the darkness of the forest but I could still see her shape vaguely through the trees.

      The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I felt like I was being watched.

      I heard a gasp before what happened next. A gunshot rang out and a cry of strangled pain drifted towards me.

      Whatever made me do this I do not know, but I ran towards the weeping girl. Just a simple word, ‘hello.’ If I hadn’t of disturbed her… She lay upon the mossy floor, bloody and still. Her brilliant blue eyes staring up at the canopy, seeing nothing.

      Her body seemed to be complete resting there but I knew I had caused her death.

      I hid in the closet, peeping through the keyhole. My mother thought I was

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