The Sister(217)
‘You know Lei is not here. I do not know where is she, but not here. I am glad. My gift to her was Five Poison amulet. Here in body, but spirit free, saved by charm from water demon.’
Lei Liang’s mother moved to the edge of the bank. Taking a telescopic pole with a hook, she extended it, hanging a small paper boat on the end. She lit a taper in the boat before pushing it out, placing it in the water, unhooking it with great care. The three of them stood silent, watching the ritual.
The flame in the tiny vessel flared and shooting upward disappeared into the gloom, leaving only ripples. The moonlight laid a path across the dark waters.
From the corner of his eye, Miller sensed movement. A shadow stepped from behind into his line of sight. Lei Liang shimmered in the moonlight in all her beautiful glory.
Her mother gasped at the sight and clasped her hands in joy. She spoke rapidly in a mixture of Chinese and English.
‘Lei, is it really you?’ She fell to her knees before the vision.
The projection lasted for several minutes as mother and daughter communed.
The manifestation was so strong, Carla saw it, too.
Afterwards, Miller looked drained.
‘You didn’t tell me you could do that,’ Carla said.
‘I didn’t,’ he replied. ‘Something used me.’
Miller’s doorbell rang as he made himself a coffee. He checked his watch. 9:05 a.m. Wiping his hands on a towel, he walked to the front door. The silhouette in the bulls-eye window revealed it was the postman. ‘Morning,’ he said as he opened it.
‘Morning, I have this for you; it wouldn’t fit through the box, and I didn’t want to leave it on the step in the rain…’
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking the parcel. ‘You don’t need a signature?’
‘No, whoever sent it, posted first class. I checked the label. Luckily, it only took two days,’ he said. ‘I’ve known second class post to arrive before first lately. Post office is going to pot! You have a good day.’
‘Thanks. You, too.’
The style of writing on the address label was broad and florid. He thought he recognised it. He picked up his coffee and took the parcel into his conservatory. Setting the cup down, he carefully unwrapped the package. Carla’s face stared up at him from the back cover. He was familiar with the photograph; he remembered telling her when she’d first showed it to him and told him of her intention to use it for her book. If you put that photograph on the cover of the book – it would sell millions.
He quickly scanned the words on the back and then turned the book over to read the front cover. The picture struck fear into his heart. It was of a man wearing a gas mask, dressed in a navy-blue boiler suit. The title read: