I knew something was wrong when Sophie came back from the city with a newspaper. Sophie never read newspapers. And she couldn't have bought it for me: I didn't read them either.
I'd been out in the shed. I came inside to find the newspaper open on the kitchen table and Sophie sitting in a chair. Her face was white.
"Ben," she said faintly.
"Dad," said Fred, grabbing my pants. I hadn't seen him there under the table.
"What?" I said, to both of them.
Fred got in first. "Where's Woof?"
"Ben?" Sophie said again.
"Fred, stop it." He was still pulling at my pants. "I don't know where he is, alright?"
Fred started crying.
"Jesus."
"Ben?" Sophie said.
"WHAT?"
Sophie's eyes widened.
"I can't hear anything," I apologised.
"I... want... woooooooooof," Fred wailed. He sounded like a fire engine.
"Hang on Soph," I said, and left the kitchen. I knew that whatever she had to tell me wasn't good. I guess I was putting off hearing it.
Woof had become stuck behind the toilet somehow. I left Fred to extract him, and went back to the kitchen. There was a sick feeling in my stomach.
"Okay," I said, sitting down on the other side of the table.
She didn't say anything, just spun the newspaper around so it was facing me, and stared at me across the table.
It was one of those articles they do that's spread over two pages. There was lots of writing, and a big black-and-white picture in the middle. It was of a cloud. In cartoons when something blows up it looks like that. It was shaped like a mushroom.
"What?" I said.
Sophie pointed at the tiny date at the top of the page.
I squinted at it. August 6th 1987. I'm not good on dates. I never remember anyone's birthday for example – except for Sophie's, but only because hers is the week after mine. I felt like this date should have meant something to me, but I couldn't think what it was.
I looked back down at the article. It was about the war. I wasn't really interested in the war, but I couldn't look away from the picture of the big mushroom cloud. There was something awesome about it. There were some smaller pictures as well: blurry black-and-white photos of a ruined city and Chinese-looking people in rags and someone's wristwatch.
"What?" I said to Sophie.
"Read it," she said.
So I did. It was about a place called Hiroshima, which wasn't in China at all, but Japan. The Americans had dropped a gigantic bomb on it. The article was celebrating it because it happened exactly forty-two years ago. I didn't know what was so special about forty-two. People don't have a big party for their forty-second birthday do they? Anyway, the date they dropped the bomb was August 6th too. Kapow.
The bit about the watch was interesting. When the bomb hit the watch had stopped at eight fifteen. It wasn't until later that night when I looked across the bedroom and saw my alarm clock sitting on the shelf that I realised it had stopped at eight fifteen as well. Okay, that was weird.
"Do I have to read the whole thing?" I said to Sophie.
"Don't you remember?"
"How could I? I wasn't even born."
She rolled her eyes. "Death!" she said, stabbing the newspaper with her finger.
She was starting to creep me out. "What?" I said.
"For fuck's sake Ben. "It's the day," (she stabbed the newspaper with her finger) "Death," (stab) "crashed" (stab) "his" (stab) "car."
I felt little hairs rise up all over my arms. But then the weirdest thing happened: I started to laugh.
If there's one thing Sophie hates, it's being laughed at. She snatched the newspaper away and gave me the most poisonous look I'd ever seen. I made an effort to stop laughing, but the more I thought about it the more I laughed. I do this sometimes when I'm scared.
"You're an arsehole Ben."
"You don't seriously..."
"He thought so."
"Oh come on."
"Don't you remember?"
"More than one thing can happen on the same day."
"What about the table then?"
"What about it?"
"The table! The table, you arsehole! He broke it."
"So?"
Sophie stood up and tore the newspaper in half. She threw the bits onto the floor. "You never believe me about anything! It's the hotel!"
I knew she was still upset about the Ape. I was upset about it too. I was the one who saw it happen, after all.
"Sometimes people die," I said solemnly.
When she looked up at me her face was fierce, and I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Ben, his name is Death."
Then she ran out of the room.