«Johnny And The Dead», Terry Pratchett

Chapter I

Johnny never knew for certain why he started seeing the dead.

The Alderman said it was probably because he was too lazy not to.

Most people's minds don't let them see things that might upset them, hesaid. The Alderman said he should know if anyone did, because he'd spent his whole life (1822-1906) not seeing things.

Wobbler Johnson, who was technically Johnny's best friend, said it wasbecause he was mental.

But Yo-less, who read medical books, said it was probably because hecouldn't focus his mind like normal people. Normal people just ignored almosteverything that was going on around them, so that they could concentrate on important things like, well, getting up, going to the lavatory and getting onwith their lives. Whereas Johnny just opened his eyes in the morning and thewhole universe hit him in the face.

Wobbler said this sounded like 'mental' to him.

Whatever it was called, what it meant was this. Johnny saw things otherpeople didn't.

Like the dead people hanging around in the cemetery.

The Alderman - at least, the old Alderman - was

a bit snobby about most of the rest of the dead, even about Mr Vicenti, whohad a huge black marble grave with angels and a photograph of Mr Vicenti(1897-1958) looking not at all dead behind a little window. The Alderman saidMr Vicenti had been a Capo de Monte in the Mafia. Mr Vicenti told Johnny that, on the contrary, he had spent his entire life being a wholesale noveltysalesman, amateur escapologist and children's entertainer, which in a numberof important respects was as exactly like not being in the Mafia as it waspossible to get.

But all this was later. After he'd got to know the dead a lot better. Afterthe raising of the ghost of the Ford Capri.

Johnny really discovered the cemetery after he'd started living atGrandad's. This was Phase Three of Trying Times, after the shouting, which hadbeen bad, and the Being Sensible About Things (which had been worse; peopleare better at shouting). Now his dad was getting a new job somewhere on theother side of the country. There was a vague feeling that it might all work out, now that people had stopped trying to be sensible. On the whole, he triednot to think about it.

He'd started using the path along the canal in- stead of going home on thebus, and found that if you climbed over the place where the wall had fallendown, and then went around behind the crematorium, you could cut off half thejourney.

The graves went right up to the canal's edge.

It was one of those old cemeteries you got owls

and foxes in and sometimes, in the Sunday papers, people going on about OurVictorian Heritage, although they didn't go on about this one because it wasthe wrong kind of heritage, being too far from London.

Wobbler said it was spooky and sometimes went home the long way, but Johnny was disappointed that it wasn't spookier. Once you sort of put out of yourmind what it was — once you forgot about all the skeletons underground,grinning away in the dark - it was quite friendly. Birds sang. All the trafficsounded a long way off. It was peaceful.

He'd had to check a few things, though. Some of the older graves had big stone boxes on top, and in the wilder parts these had cracked and even fallenopen. He'd had a look inside, just in case.

It had been sort of disappointing to find nothing there.

And then there were the mausoleums. These were much bigger and had doorsin, like little houses. They looked a bit like allotment sheds with extra angels. The angels were generally more lifelike than you'd expect, especiallyone near the entrance who looked as though he'd just remembered that he should

have gone to the toilet before he left heaven.

The two boys walked through the cemetery now, kicking up the drifts offallen leaves.

'It's Halloween next week,' said Wobbler. 'I'm having a disco.- You have to come as something horrible. Don't bother to find a disguise.'

'Thanks,' said Johnny.

'You notice how there's a lot more Halloween stuff in the shops thesedays?' said Wobbler.

'It's because ofBonfire Night,' said Johnny. 'Too many people were blowingthemselves up with fireworks, so they invented Halloween, where you just wearmasks and stuff'

'Mrs Nugent says all that sort of thing is tampering with the occult,' saidWobbler. Mrs Nugent was the Johnsons' next door neighbour, and known to beunreasonable on subjects like Madonna played at full volume at 3 a.m.

'Probably it is,' said Johnny.

'She says witches are abroad on Halloween,' said Wobbler.

'What?' Johnny's forehead wrinkled. 'Like ... Marjorca and places?'

'Suppose so,' said Wobbler.

'Makes ... sense, I suppose. They probably get special out-of-seasonbargains, being old ladies,' said Johnny. 'My aunt can go anywhere on thebuses for almost nothing and she's not even a witch.'

'Don't see why Mrs Nugent is worried, then,' said Wobbler. 'It ort to be a lot safer round here, with all the witches on holiday.'

They passed a very ornate mausoleum, which even had little stained-glasswindows. It was hard to imagine who'd want to see in, but then, it was evenharder to imagine who'd want to look out.

'Shouldn't like to be on the same plane as 'em,' said Wobbler, who'd been