Free The Hidden World by Graham Masterton Page B

cheeseburgers. What about your blood pressure?’
    Grandpa Willy gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. ‘One cheeseburger isn’t going to kill me. Besides, we all have to go to the Great Beyond one day, so what’s the point of denying yourself an occasional unhealthy treat?’
    When they were sitting next to the steamed-up window in Clark’s Burger Bar, eating cheeseburgers and sharing a basket of French fries, Jessica said, ‘Do you believe in heaven, Grandpa?’
    â€˜What, with cherubs and clouds and all that caboodle?’
    â€˜I don’t actually mean angels and harps and stuff. I mean an actual place that we go to, when we die.’
    â€˜Well, yes, I think I do. Some folks say that because you don’t remember nothing before you was born, that proves for a fact that you don’t experience nothing when you turn your toes up. But that’s like saying that just because there wasn’t any picture of fairies before you drew it, it stops existing after you’ve crumpled it up and thrown it in the fire. It still exists in here, in your head, doesn’t it?, and it still exists in the heads of anybody who might have seen it. So long as there are people who remember you, then I believe that you’re still alive. Maybe you pass into infinity once there’s nobody left alive who knew you, and maybe that’s the way God makes sure that heaven doesn’t get too crowded.
    â€˜But I believe that your mom and dad are in heaven, because you think about them still, don’t you? They’re still in your heart, and what sweeter place could there be than that?’
    Jessica carefully extricated the pickle from her cheeseburger.
    â€˜I’ll have that,’ said Grandpa Willy. ‘They give me the force-ten wind, but what the heck.’
    â€˜Do you think dead people can talk to us?’ asked Jessica.
    â€˜What’s brought this on? You’re talking mighty existential today.’
    â€˜It’s these voices I keep hearing.’
    Grandpa Willy laid his hand on top of hers. His skin was like crumpled tissue paper. ‘Sometimes our minds play some rare tricks on us, sweetheart. I used to have an old black-and-white spotty dog called Captain when I was a boy, and Captain died of distemper. But I swear to you that when I was walking along the road one morning, I saw him trotting ahead of me, as plain as day. I’ve never told anybody that before, in case they thought I was screwy. But whether he was really there or not, I saw him all right.’
    He sat back and smiled at her. ‘If you hear these voices again, you call me, and then we’ll find out if I can hear them too. Now, how about one of those giant ice-cream sundaes with all the sprinkle-sprankles on top?’
    That night, Jessica stayed awake so late that she heard the grandfather clock chiming one o’clock in the hall below. She had bought a small blue plastic flashlight of her own, and every now and then she shone it on the wallpaper to see if it was moving. But the roses, irises and blessed thistles didn’t stir, and she heard nobody calling for help.
    At half past one she turned over, pulled the comforter up over her shoulders, and fell asleep. She dreamed that her mother was downstairs, in the kitchen. She could hear her singing, but all she could see was her back, with her apron strings dangling down. It must have been early fall: even though the sun was shining through the open kitchen door, the first dried-up beech leaves were rattling across the yard outside.
    She tried to say, ‘Mom?’ but for some reason her mouth wouldn’t work, and she couldn’t make her legs carry her into the kitchen. The sun died away, and it grew chilly and dark The wind rose, and the beech leaves started to blow into the kitchen, scattering across the floor.
    Jessica cried out, ‘Mom!’ but she knew that her mother couldn’t hear her, and she began to weep