Free Nine Letters Long by J.C. Burke Page A

around the S, sliding back and pointing directly to it.
    â€˜S,’ Evie whispers. The word continues. ‘S-C-A-R-E-D. Scared?’ Evie repeats. ‘What are you scared of, Caz?’
    It skirts over to the P and begins a new word.
    â€˜P-A-R-I-S-T-A-L-K.’ Evie copies the letters with her left hand. They squiggle down the page.
    â€˜ Paris talk ?’ Evie frowns. ‘Paris is your sister, right? You want me to go and see your sister? You want her to talk? Talk to me?’
    It points to the ‘YES’, three times before making a circle around the entire board. It stops and then, for a second, hovers as though unsure of its direction. Evie watches her finger, wondering where it will follow.
    The planchette points to the C then, gathering up speed, continues the message. Frantically, Evie writes the letters. Randomly, they land on the paper as each one is delivered. ‘C-A-R-E-F-U-L-I-N-E-E-D-A-S-’ Evie watches the jumble appearing before her, ‘S-I-S-T-A-N-C-E-A-N-DH-E-L-P.’ Her finger runs along the letters, linking them together and forming the words, ‘Careful I need assistance and help.’
    â€˜Okay,’ she says in reply. Evie places her finger back on the needle. ‘Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything?’
    â€˜H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P …’ The pointer swings around the board. ‘H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P …’ Faster and faster. It won’t stop. ‘H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P …’ Evie feels like her arm is about to dislodge from its socket. Around and around it whizzes as the air becomes trapped in her throat. ‘H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P-H-E-L-P-H-E-L-PH-E …’ Evie can hardly breathe. The wheeze is barking from her mouth. She has to stop it. She pushes against the energy, forcing the planchette to the word ‘GOODBYE’. She holds it there, puffing and panting.
    â€˜Goodbye,’ Evie chokes. ‘Goodbye.’ Caz starts to back away. ‘Goodbye. Goodbye.’ As she does, Evie’s lungs begin to soften and relax. ‘Goodbye,’ she whispers. ‘Goodbye.’
    Suddenly, everything is still. In the dark, Evie sits, trying to gather her thoughts. In – out, in – out, she steadies her breath and wipes the sweat from her forehead. The paper is lying crumpled on the floor. The words are scribbled, almost unrecognisable as Evie’s writing.
    â€˜Look the door. Scared. Paris talk. Careful. I Need Assistance And Help. Help Help …’
    Evie blows out the candles.
    â€˜What has happened to you, Caz?’ she whispers. ‘What do you want me to do?’



 
    Evie, Seb and Poppy are squeezed into the one seat on the bus. Seb is showing Poppy how to crack the anagram puzzles in the newspaper. Evie isn’t paying attention. Instead, she stares down the aisle of the bus. Every now and then, she feels Seb’s eyes on her, scanning her, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Today she hasn’t the energy to cover it up. Last night dried her up, and now all she can think about is Caz.
    â€˜See, this one’s “sports injury”.’ Seb shows Poppy.
    â€˜Oh yeah. Wow!’ Poppy holds the newspaper up. Evie glances at the randomly placed letters. PTSSRO NJUIYR.
    â€˜That one was dead easy,’ Seb says. ‘See if you can get this one.’
    Poppy’s head is down as she works on the puzzle. Seb watches Evie through the gap. Evie pretends not to notice.
    He finally says something to her. ‘So you didn’t come on Saturday night?’
    â€˜Hmm?’
    â€˜Where were you on Saturday night? I thought you were coming.’
    â€˜I had a headache.’ Evie keeps staring ahead. ‘I just couldn’t get rid of it.’
    â€˜Well, being stuck with Alex and Roxy would’ve made it worse, that’s for sure,’ Seb grumbles. ‘They were shockers.’
    Poppy groans in agreement.