‘Lucas,’ hissed Clara, tugging his sleeve urgently. ‘Lucas, who is that?’
He followed her line of sight and spotted a familiar figure walking towards them, wearing a lavender dress in a fashion older than he was.
‘Oh, that’s just Mrs. Bird,’ he said. ‘She’s… Wait, you can see her?’
Clara went pale. ‘That’s Mrs. Bird? Your Mrs. Bird? But, but she’s dead!’
‘Very much so,’ said Lucas, a hint of smugness in his voice. ‘My guess is you can see ghosts today too. Hard luck, old thing.’
‘But how?’ said Clara, panic in her voice. ‘Why?’
‘It’s just part of that silly challenge Saffron is making us do,’ said Lucas soothingly. ‘Today is bad superpower day. I have to agree, being able to see ghosts is a pretty bad one to have.’
Mrs. Bird sat primly on the bench next to Clara, and began telling Clara all the things the girl hadn’t been able to hear so far during her twenty-one years on earth.
Lucas watched with undisguised amusement as Clara’s eyes glazed and a rictus grin formed on her face.
He whistled tunelessly, thankful to have effectively been let off from this challenge.
But he’d forgotten that it called for a new superpower.
A robin settled on the ground in front of him, peering at Lucas curiously.
‘Shoo,’ said Lucas, twitching his foot.
The bird took flight, only to land on the bench next to him and hop closer. A blackbird joined it, and moments later a magpie arrived and perched on Lucas’ knee.
‘Uh, Clara,’ he said, but from the look on her face he’d not be getting any help from her for a while.
A red squirrel scampered down a nearby tree, across the back of the bench, up Lucas’ arm, and curled up in the sandy waves on top of his head. Small, squirrely snores started moments later.
Lucas knew he was overdue a visit to the barbers, but there was really no need for that.
He tensed at the neighbour’s evil-tempered, foul-smelling, ancient and battle-scarred grey Tomcat sauntered towards the impromptu and rapidly growing menagerie.
This wouldn’t end well.
However, in contrast to Lucas’ experience of the beast for the last dozen years, the cat simply curled up in his lap and dissolved into a purring heap of feline affection.
Lucas risked upsetting the squirrel and glanced at Clara, who seemed unaware that he was gradually disappearing under a mound of wildlife he couldn’t seem to stop piling onto him.
He supposed this was fair—after all, she had her own problems to deal with, and Lucas knew them only too well.
He sighed, resigned to today’s fate of having uncontrollable animal magnetism.
At least tomorrow couldn’t be any worse…
Right?
Uh, sure. No worse. Defintiely... Not.
Because on Monday, Lucas is dead. Yay! Check back soon to find out how that one pans out :)
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