BooksBarbecue
Back The Trickster Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. The Trickster
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Preface to the 20th anniversary edition
  6. Introduction
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. Keep Reading
  70. FURNACE
  71. Acknowledgements
  72. About the Author
  73. ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
  74. About the Publisher

‘Well, do you want to write down what I’ve put on the board then, please.’

Billy just stared at the neck. The young woman scanned his face for a few seconds, searching for any mischievous defiance and saw none.

‘Are you ill?’

No response.

A child by the window sniggered and Miss Root turned and threw the culprit a look that stopped the laugh like a bell jar on a candle. She turned back to the small boy and spoke softly this time. ‘Aren’t you going to speak to me, Billy? I’m asking you a question.’

Billy turned his head and looked at his teacher. His liquid black eyes held the expression of a much older person and they had a bruised quality that dismayed Agnes Root. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. This was not a rude and naughty child. This was a disturbed one. Billy Hunt was normally a lively, funny, spunky little guy. She didn’t like to think about what might be wrong. But she’d deal with it later. His teacher put a hand out and laid it on his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. You chill out for a minute.’

She stood up and returned to her board, facing the class with a forced jollity to cover Billy’s distress. ‘Alrighty then. Let’s see if we can paint some pictures on the theme of prisms. Think of rainbows and all those bright colours, and let’s see what we come up with. Paint monitors please.’

Little bodies sprang up and got busy with the hardware of making paintings. Before they turned the neat pile of painting equipment into chaos, Miss Root rescued a piece of cartridge paper, a white plastic palette with big circular indentations, and a wide soft brush and carried them over to Billy.

‘Do you think you could do a picture, sweetheart? Huh?’

Billy slid the paper towards him silently and nodded.

‘Good. Go get some lovely colours for your palette then, Billy.’ She ruffled his hair and left him to it. She had a class to watch and if she didn’t watch them closely they’d paint the walls, their faces and every flat surface in the room. Her watch said there wasn’t much more of this and she sat down at her desk to dream of Martin’s mouth.

30

Sometimes – correction – lots of times, the human race made him sick. That RCMP incident trailer, sitting there in the middle of the ski car park, ought to have kept the public a million miles away from this resort. Did it, fuck. The car park was full and Eric Sindon was watching three of his guys trying to squeeze more cars in behind the shop loading-bay. So they liked to ski with the scent of blood in their nostrils, did they? Or was the fact that news crews were nearly outnumbering skiers providing the big attraction?