tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3384028014094982132024-02-20T12:32:00.077-08:00SongsSongs can be very powerful. These stories have used songs as a starting point, sometimes elaborating the narrative, and at others borrowing from the mood or feel.Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-29279166352720253432013-04-17T06:06:00.001-07:002013-04-17T06:06:48.029-07:00The Wanderer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Eugene’s
face said nothing of the optimism he felt.
His jaws were set; his blue eyes stared fixedly forward at the patch of
tarmacadam illuminated by the headlamps of his car. He had been driving for several hours, but
apart from the ache of muscles in his lower arms, and the numbness of fingers
gripping the steering wheel with intense purpose, he felt no tiredness at
all. His head was clear, mechanical,
simply processing sensations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
most notable of these was the steady rumble of the engine as it settled into
its top speed. He had not dared to force
the Skoda in the early hours of the evening when the car kept pace with the
trucks and the holiday-seekers on the long, straight motorway; it was only as
night fell that he pressed his foot further onto the accelerator and heard the
car announce its reluctance through angry vibrations. These eased as the Estelle reached its limit
of ninety miles per hour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
landscape on either side of the car continued to pass. It was flat, green, unpunctuated by landmarks
of note, and even if he had seen what was beyond the narrow beams of light it
would have offered little distraction.
As it was he was too occupied with thought to pay attention to his
surroundings; he let them drift passed, whilst he meditated on the steady
humming of the car, and counted the passage of miles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
mountains when they came reared suddenly to his sight. He had noticed a blur on the horizon, a dark
that was much deeper than the one that surrounded him, but he had not thought
to question its purpose, nor comfort himself that his journey was now
approaching its end. This denial made
the surprise all the greater; it was as though the hills had appeared on the
instant. He looked about him and there
they were, overwhelming him, dwarfing his existence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He
relaxed his foot. The car rattled once
more; then it settled into a low rumble.
This rumble carried him along, his, the only car, the darkness upon him
so intense it made him quake with excitement.
He did not miss the turning, though it was poorly posted; he eased the
Skoda into its lower gears, heading down into the lane, before following its
passage slowly upwards, skirting a towering mountain as the road wound around
its cliff-face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">To
his right was ever a fall, invisible now in the night, yet always present,
reminding him that he might disappear forever with one turn of the wheel. Despite the bleak intensity of his focus it
was not death, however, that drove him on through the long hours. The chasm was but an echo of what he had left
behind, and as he pressed forward, his car clinging relentlessly to the road,
he knew that his purpose would soon be revealed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He
stopped the car by a small mountain stream.
All was silent now except for the steady rush of water as it splashed
its descent, caressing the mossy granite before falling on and down. Eugene turned off the lights of the Skoda,
the better to hear the sound, and he did not pause in the car though the pitch
black startled his senses. He opened the
door, the stiff metallic groan echoing alien in that remote place, and he
stepped out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His
direction, as it had been since he had set out early in the evening, was clear
in his head. The harsh prickles of the
gorse held him close to the mountain, and he climbed quickly, feeling his certain
grip in the give of these rough plants.
He guessed that the night would soon give way to dawn, and this
inevitability forced him to climb on, though his body, long aged with his
living, began to issue its many familiar complaints.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He
reached the clearing, his fingers thick with thorns, and his light, linen
jacket, too casual and city-formed to resist the piercing cold of the
wind. He stretched out his arms,
reaching the extremities of their length, and leant his head back that he might
feel the full force enliven him. There
was no doubt remaining in his mind as the press of moving air resisted his
call; this was indeed the spot, and he exhilarated his confidence, waiting for
the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When
it came he recognised it straight away.
The soft singing called his name endlessly in a single utterance,
speaking from the earth, and vibrating its sound from the deep, granite roots
of the mountain. It brought an ecstasy
of warmth to his aged form, kindling his soul and firing him with unchanging
promise. He closed his eyes in the bliss
of this reward; then he opened them slowly, fighting his anticipation as he
prepared to see her once more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
voice that called him ceased its cry as he looked, and his name, so deliciously
sounded, seemed to drift now, washing away on the wind. He did not regret this loss, however, and
when the woman before him smiled sensing his pleasure, he felt that the sun
would ever rise, and she would ever be present, welcoming him. He craved nothing more and he reached out his
hand, her face so close he could touch its warmth, just as he could taste the
blossom of her scent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “You are beauty”, he said, whispering
to the parted ruby of her lips, the crystal darkness of her eye and the dazzle
of her flowing youth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He
knew, even as he spoke, that she was gone.
He was alone again, suddenly old, decayed, fired by his search, yet
exhausted now that he must begin again.
He stood alone upon the hill, much weakened by his efforts, knowing that
his quest was ever futile. But he did
not give up, did not forsake perfection found.
He returned instead to his trusted car and travelled on, certain that
dawn would come each day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px;">©2011 Padraig De Brún</span></div>
Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-68928482522023728802012-11-26T04:35:00.000-08:002012-11-26T04:35:12.346-08:00Supersonic<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Joe
didn’t like the winter-coat, though his mother insisted upon him wearing it. He was an active boy and it restricted his
movements, the thick padding holding his arms in stiff diagonals. Despite this earlier struggle, however, he
had been biddable enough that day, playing with the children in the park whilst
Sally chatted to the mothers, and practising the words that he would say to his
father when they met him at the station.
It seemed fair therefore, that he should have a small treat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sally
took the biggest piece for herself, sweet strawberry gum, biting into the thick,
pink square before placing the remainder into her son’s willing mouth. Chewing gum was a habit that Sally had
acquired when she quit smoking, and though David did not approve, it seemed
harmless enough. Certainly, Joe showed
something of the pleasure the gum could give, and once he had adjusted to the
sharp taste he chewed with leisure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As
he chewed they made their way down the main concourse of the shopping centre, a
short-cut to the High Street. It was a
familiar route to the station, Sally was on nodding terms with the security
guards, and she went first, allowing Joe to indulge his many distracting
curiosities. They came to a long pause
when they reached the main doors; the electronic whoosh that issued each time
they opened was a cause of particular interest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sally
did not mind these pauses. She wanted
Joe to develop an inquisitive mind, and in the schedule of her day she allowed
him ample opportunity, leaving early to meet her husband that they might idle
their way. She stood at a safe distance,
therefore, watching the ponderous chewing of her son as his eyes followed the
glass backward and forward. Joe made no
effort to cause the movement himself; it was as though he was waiting for some
complex hypothesis to be confirmed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Outside
the centre a chill autumn breeze was rushing down the corridor of the long High
Street. From where she stood Sally got
occasional blasts of cold air, and though she had doubted her decision in the park,
within the shelter of the warm, November sun, she knew now that she had been
right to coax Joe into his coat. When he
was finally ready to leave, she knelt on the cold tiles before him and, despite
his complaints, closed the zip up to his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Joe
would not accept the further protection of the hood, and Sally, knowing that
she could not win this battle as well, allowed him the compromise. They stepped from the shelter of the centre
unto the cold of the quiet street, Sally’s long dark hair catching in the wind
and Joe’s arms outstretched, too stiff to undo his zip. The pair moved slowly across the paved
entrance, delaying to examine the late-showing flowers in the bed, and then
progressing down the High Street towards the station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
accident took Joe by surprise. He
tripped forward, his mouth open, as his boot caught the uneven slab, and he
would have hit the ground, unprotected by his hands, if it had not been for
Sally’s swift maternal reflexes. Her
hand shot out as her son tripped, catching Joe by the hood and suspending him
briefly in the air until he regained his footing. It was only then, with both feet firmly upon
the offending slab that he thought to complain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
noise of his cry showed all the shock of Joe’s surprise; then once the first
sound had drifted off Joe turned his attention to the gum that lay on the
pavement. This seemed a small loss to
Sally, given that it might have been her son that was lying there. She took a piece of gum from her own mouth -
it was still pink and rich in flavour - and she offered it to Joe as a
replacement. They were preparing to move
off, the matter resolved, when the call came from above.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Stop!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sally
looked up at the command. It had issued
from the roof-top, but she could not see exactly where; the buildings on the
High Street were tall, the rows of shops supporting several floors of
apartments. Unsuccessful in her search, she
moved on, lowering her gaze and taking hold of Joe’s hand. The surprise of this new drama added to the
shock of the first, and sensing instinctively that she had been addressed she increased
her speed from her usual, casual pace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Stop, I say.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
second command added to her hurry, and from the resistance of Joe’s hand Sally
could tell that he was struggling to keep up.
Her initial movements had released her fear, however, and she thought
briefly of entering a shop, escaping that way from the strange cries. She opted instead to get completely off the
street. She bent to lift Joe up when he
could go no faster, feeling the weight of his thirty months and battling to
gain a grip around the thickly padded coat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She
sensed a reflection of her own fear in the quiet compliance of her son. He was tense beneath her hold, his body stiff
and expectant. Sally placed her left
hand behind the crown of his head, supporting him as she had done when he was
an infant. Her movement was now much
closer to a run, her focus so fixed upon her end that she scarcely registered
the other people on the street. What she
did know for certain, as the third call confirmed, was that she was indeed being
pursued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Stop, I say.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">These
words, sounding much closer than before, sent her hurrying down an alley,
formed by two new blocks of flats. At
the bottom she took a right, pausing momentarily to ensure that she was not
followed. This new lane was empty and
unfamiliar, it provided entrances to underground car-parks, and imagining the
many dangers that she faced Sally turned her run into a sprint, changing
direction once more at the end of the lane and regaining the High Street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There
she paused for breath; she had not seen her pursuer, but there was no sign of
unusual movement and this brought immediate relief. She lowered Joe to the path, determined now
to blend into the crowds that were emerging from the underground station, and
telling herself to be calm, that the second drama had also passed. She wondered what David would say, whether he
would make a fuss or think her daft, and she was already deciding upon her
story when the man approached.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “This is yours, I believe”, he said, holding out a ball
wrapped in a strip of newspaper; “your son dropped his gum on the pavement.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Pardon!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Joe
had looked up. Though the man was
dressed in costume, yellow lycra hugging a muscular form, and a mask covering
his face, his presence had not provided the threat that Sally might have
expected to one so young.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Are you Superman?” Joe asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Supersonic,” the man replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As
he spoke Supersonic curled his fists unto his hips, angling his arms at the
elbows. Sally could now clearly read the
slogan beneath the image of a rocket on his chest: <i>There’s no stopping me.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you serious?”
she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Never more; the streets are cleaner and safer beneath
the careful watch of Supersonic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I like Superman,” Joe said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Though
Sally’s shock remained the innocence of Joe’s comment seemed to steal some of
the tension from the moment. She looked
down at her son and smiled, then noticed as she looked up again that the
passing faces were sharing their attention between the costumed man, herself
and her son. She put out her hand to
bring the scene to an end and accepted the ball of paper. Without a further word the lycra hero ran
off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I like Superman,” Joe repeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Me too”, answered Sally, wondering anew how she would
explain events to David.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Certain
now that her husband would laugh, before returning to his criticism of gum, she
took a tissue from her pocket and held it for Joe to empty his mouth. Once this evidence was secured she added her
own to the tissue; then she found a bin where she deposited the three
pieces. They were able to move more
slowly again, Joe excited that his father would soon emerge from the
station. He walked in a distracted
manner, held within the warmth of his coat, and repeating occasionally:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I like Superman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-45063783532279229302012-11-08T02:50:00.001-08:002012-11-08T02:50:53.426-08:00The Learning of Lord Barnard<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Barnard lands stretched
wide and deep, enough to make their Lord a man of renown wherever he rode. He did so frequently, the grandeur of his
train matched only by the largesse of his purse. Such largesse made him a welcome guest, and
this welcome saw him in the arms of a wealthy tenant’s wife, lying long into
the night as he savoured the pleasures she had thought to favour him with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It did not disturb Barnard
that he was discovered there the next morning, sleeping in an unfamiliar room,
a naked woman lying in his arms. It
might have been the husband himself who rushed in, armed or accompanied by his
household; still, Barnard would have risen just the same, slowly, not bothering
at first to dress or cover himself, preferring rather to allow his muscular
form and many battle scars to attest to his prowess.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As it was the disturbance
was brought on by two young men, slight, barely old enough to grow a
beard. The first he recognised as one of
his own; the second, though liveried with similar attire, might have been any
boy. Barnard watched this youth, his
eyes fall upon the woman then rise uncertainly to his own face; the boy
hesitated, processing the scene and struggling to recover the urgent news he
had surely brought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Speak”,
Barnard instructed, when the silence continued beyond his wishes; “you have not
come here simply to disturb my sleep.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “No,
Lord Barnard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Then
speak, or I will have my page whip you from the house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I.......”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Boy!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Barnard laughed a low indifferent
threat before turning from his guests and pulling a loose linen shirt over his
head. The woman was awake now; he could
see her face peeping from the sheets she had brought tight about her. Barnard had enjoyed his fun, and seeing her
face would gladly have returned for more; his irritation, therefore, was more
severe than the interruption itself might have deserved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I said
speak.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dressed now in a shirt, he
turned to face the boy once more. The
eyes that looked up to his were blue with youth, and terrified by the anger
they perceived. Barnard almost struck,
simply to subdue the moment, but he held the hand that he had raised, his
fingers clenched into a fist, and whilst he looked on his expression left no
doubt that he would strike if he was forced to ask again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I have
come from my Lady, Lord,” blurted the boy, stepping back out of reach at the
same time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “You
have, then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Yes,
your Lordship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And
what is it that my lady wife would have me do this day?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “She..........I.........”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Out with
it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I am
your man, Lord Barnard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The announcement from a
voice barely broken, its possessor quaking, just out of reach, brought a laugh
from the battle-hardened Lord. He had
brushed many such men aside, and again he felt an urge to do so, just to bring
the interruption to an end. Once more
resisting he assumed a mildly mocking tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And
what is it that my man would do for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I would
bring you news, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Of the
Lady?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Yes, my
Lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Very
well, then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Barnard sat down on the end
of the bed, rooting for the boots he had discarded there. The woman’s feet retreated to avoid his
weight, and this reminder of her presence was unpleasant; he would not have his
news discussed so publicly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Get up
now, woman”, he said, “and dress; I would speak to the boy alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The woman obeyed without a
word, their love now forgotten, and Barnard barely noticed her graceful curves
as she disappeared into the darkness of a side door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “This
had better be good, boy,” he said gruffly, as he heard the door close; “you
find my mood much disturbed, and it would not be well to do so lightly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “No, my
Lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Well! Speak!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “It is
news that I thought to bring you straight.
And so I ran through the night, swimming the river where the bridge was
broke.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And...!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “My
Lady, your Lordship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Barnard stood up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I left
her abed with the Little Musgrave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The hand struck, an easy
swipe, and the crumpling of the boy suggested that he had begun his fall even
before the contact of the hand had forced him to do so. Such cowardice angered Barnard further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Get
up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Yes, my
Lord”, said the boy, retreating another step.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Do you
lie?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “No, my
Lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “For if
you do, I shall hang you from the very highest tree.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Yes, my
Lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The boy’s eyes did not drop
from Barnard’s now, and he held his hands by his side, despite the mess that
leaked from his bloodied nose. Barnard
recognised the boy’s fear, and recognised also beyond doubt that the boy was
truthful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “But if
what you say is true, boy”, he said, assuming the demeanour of a grateful and
generous leader, “you shall be rewarded for this loyalty you have shown, even
to the last gold piece of my lady’s purse.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “It is,
my Lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Now,
Page”, Barnard ordered, turning to his own; “awake my men. I shall dress, and then we shall ride.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Downstairs the tenant’s wife
was waiting with some bread and a goblet of red wine. Indifferent to the onlookers Barnard kissed
her full on the lips whilst he accepted the gift. Then he ate swiftly as the sound of many
horses, saddled and readied for the ride, gathered in the yard beyond. A single horn blew high and shrill,
announcing their purpose as Barnard stepped out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Silence
that man,” he called; “we ride to Bucklesfordberry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dawn had begun its break as
the troop galloped, clearing rivers and streams. There could have been no doubt that Barnard’s
purpose was martial; he rode as he did into battle, his black steed, its head
raised and purposeful, pressing on at full pace. Above the men were prey-birds, circling the
hunt as was their way, and seeking out the mark on which they might be allowed
to feed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It took a matter of hours to
reach their end. Barnard was out ahead,
and had dismounted before his men arrived.
He opened the door to the little bower, ignoring the hesitation that bid
his patience, and climbed the wooden steps to the room, long familiar, though
unknown since his days of courting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There, still sleeping, lay
his wife, and in her arms, wrapped as a couple much pleasured, lay the man he
guessed to be Musgrave. Barnard kicked
the foot that hung from the bed, too ready now to kill to even feel anger. Then he watched as the shock of his presence
registered on the youthful, waking face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “You
have enjoyed my sheets”, he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I
have.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And my
bed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Truly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And my
wife?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Much
finer”, Little Musgrave said, sitting up and touching the face beside him so gently
that the lady did not even wake, “than either bed or sheets. You are blessed, my Lord; though I am
adjudged an expert in such matters I have never tasted better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Nor
will again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The noise outside told
Barnard that his men were down below, and he could hear the familiar voices of
the two waiting at the door; neither dared to enter. He knew that he could end this now, revenge
his shame with one strike of his sword, yet, like a practised hunter that takes
no pleasure pouncing upon a weakened prey, he waited on, considering. Barnard could tell, even as he did so, that
this pause was giving his rival courage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And now
I must away”, the man said, rising with a show of confidence that Barnard knew
he did not feel, and showing his back and skinny buttocks as he retrieved his
clothes from a chair; he bore no signs of his dangerous living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I would
gladly wait and see your fair wife again, but I hear your men beyond the door,
and I fear that they will do me harm if I stay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I have
no need of men,” Barnard answered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Surely
not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I will
kill you myself when you have dressed.
You breathe your last.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Musgrave paused, resting his
shirt once more, his eye upon Barnard and each movement slow and precise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I have
no need for haste, then,” Musgrave said; “I am dressed as my mother knew me,
and you would not want to kill a mother’s son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Not
naked, no.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And if
I leave as I am now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I will
have my dogs chase you down; they do not share my sympathies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Then I
will dress and we will fight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “And you
will die!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “So
soon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “So
certainly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The certainty was strong on
Barnard’s face, and he could tell that the man read it, but Musgrave did not
quake, and Barnard could not but admire the man’s courage. He watched him dress slowly now, looking
forward, his face impassive. When he had
finished, Musgrave stooped to kiss the lady once more, and Barnard did not
move, as he watched his wife adjust her sleeping form beneath the tender touch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I fight
best for love,” Musgrave said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Barnard stepped back, and
his men did too, allowing Musgrave to descend the stairs and make his way into
the yard. His following had made a large
circle, impossible for escape, and though Barnard guessed that such might be on
the mind of Musgrave he did not hurry his preparations. On his saddle was a broad sword he carried
with him as a spare. He took this for
his own, and handed the much finer blade he drew from his scabbard to the man
he would kill. Musgrave examined it and
smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “This is
too fine a blade for me”, he jested; “I am but a common man, your Lordship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “You
will use it briefly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Musgrave did. His first stroke, clearly one he had prepared
in his mind, struck low, slicing flesh from the outside of Barnard’s
thigh. Then, he stood back, his battle
won, but had barely time to smile once more, as Barnard with two swift
movements knocked the sword from Musgrave’s hand before plunging the other deep
into the man’s chest. He held it there
as recognition flitted briefly into the dying eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This death had only won him
partial victory, however. With
Musgrave’s blood still dripping from his blade he entered the house once more
and climbed to where his wife was. She was
awake now, and the sight of the blade had an immediate effect; she did not
move, but Barnard felt her very soul recoil from his approach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Your
man is dead”, he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Then so
am I.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I would
not kill you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “No, but
with my love dead, there is no longer any life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The thought that his wife
might have pleasured herself as he did, sleeping where their power earned them
favour, had not greatly surprised Barnard; he had indeed expected it in the
years since their touch had grown distant.
That she might have loved, however, shocked him to the very core, and
without thought for what he was doing, he plunged his blade once more into a
body’s chest, the blood of the lovers mingling on the steel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It brought no relief. His wife no sooner dead, than Barnard
realised that he had lost everything. He
turned from this second death and made his way down to the yard, calling to the
page as he prepared to climb onto his horse.
The boy’s nose was bloody still, and he kept a careful distance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “The
bower is yours, boy, as is the lady’s purse when you find it. Bury the bodies, and remember their love.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Barnard rode out, picturing
as he did so the grave, the dead bodies pressed for ever to each other’s touch,
and he knew that their story would last.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; text-indent: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; text-indent: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; text-indent: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; text-indent: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; text-indent: 0px;">©2011 Padraig De Brún</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-20165711385975809942012-10-24T03:19:00.000-07:002012-10-24T03:19:41.493-07:00The Strange CaseThe Strange Case is Story of the Month on No Frills Buffalo. You can read it on this <a href="http://www.nofrillsbuffalo.com/story-of-the-month.html">link</a>. Have a look, and comment if you wish.Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-45344435849077799072012-08-12T06:02:00.000-07:002012-08-12T06:02:28.582-07:00The Strange Case<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /> Pirates cannot sail on clouds that rain. William knew this. It was obvious. Their ships would fall into the sea. And so he ignored his fears as he scratched a golden nib across a blank page, black ink on white paper. To his right, hanging among an array of things, learned and curiosity, was a child’s toy, a yo-yo. It was a relic now, a mere memory of youth; but in the casual happenings of a summer’s day, reflections of reflections, it caught glimpses of the sun. These lit the dark study as Bill and Bob sped their Humber along the many narrow lanes. They might have been lost, they had been travelling for hours; yet Bob did not concede. He spoke with an easy, occasional banter, as though his mood was as positive as ever.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “You ever had a yo-yo, Bill?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “What?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “A yo-yo. It’s a child’s toy. You get a length of string........”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I know what a yo-yo is, Bob.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Well............you ever had one then?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Bill was studying the horizon, searching for some evidence of a house. He was tired and hot, baking beneath a high sun, and his flesh sweltered in his dark suit, blisters of sweat leaking into the silk of his regulation shirt. He said nothing more for now, he understood Bob’s game, and Bob continued without waiting for an answer.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “They’re very old, you know.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I didn’t.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “The ancients, so they say, used to sacrifice them to the gods.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Bob slowed the car, approaching an impossible bend as he shared this information. Bill reflected on the words, trying to resist the interest he was expected to show. He loosened his white tie as he did so, and undid the top button of his purple shirt. Then he lowered the window, admitting a waft of heat. Bob put the car into first, let out a slow clutch and felt the strain of rubber and metal struggling to claim a grip.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Sacrifice?” Bill said eventually.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “In a manner of speaking, Bill;” the car skidded onto the severe gradient; “boys gave clay yo-yos to the gods as a rite of passage.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And what happened then?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “They became men. Cast off their childhood symbolically through the sacrifice of their toys.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I didn’t know that.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “No. Not many do, Bill....;” they slowed again, this time dipping over a hill. Bill kept his eyes above the road; there was a sheer drop to his left, a cascade of rock and stone. He saw the first sign of clouds. He could not remember their name. “And here’s another thing, Bill. The word yo-yo is Filipino. It means come back.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Like boomerang.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “No. That’s Dharuk.............................I lost mine.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The name was cumulonimbus. It returned to Bill in the silence that followed, dragged from a youth spent with a farming father. They meant rain, and he watched the clouds rising to a point of brilliant white. At their base were clusters of loose, grey feathers. They seemed to soar, however slowly, moving into the blue like a bird; and their tip, a reflection of the afternoon sun, was a golden beak. He thought of his own childhood game.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “My father wouldn’t let me have a yo-yo,” he confessed; “he wanted me to play with clouds instead.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Clouds?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Yes. That one’s an albatross. Cumulonimbus; it means rain.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> It was Bob’s turn to delay, keeping his attention on the road as they reached a new junction, a cross of identical lanes. There was nothing to choose between them, and he ignored Bill’s bird, looking left and right. Eventually, what he hoped was roughly north, he drove forward, easing the gears of the Humber into first, second, third and fourth. As they rose, gathering momentum and weaving with the bend of road, he looked up to the clouds and responded dismissively.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “It’s going to rain alright, Bill.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Of course it is, Bob; but can’t you see the bird?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Not at the moment, Bill; I’m driving.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Beyond this talk, fighting the Dark Order and making clouds, William wrote on. He worked with a pedantic care, detailing the approach of rain. When the page was full, a minute script formed with a fine nib, he took a fresh sheet from his drawer. This was an official document, a court summons; and he did not pause to re-read it before folding it in half and pressing the crease between thumb and forefinger. Then, with an abstracted, casual contempt, he tore, folded and tore once more.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The four rectangles became a fresh canvas for his magic, battling the drought that had besieged their home. He could not see the clouds, he was facing south to the right of a deep, stone window; but they were there alright, banks of condensed air rising into a brilliant blue.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Sophie saw them from upstairs, leaning out of the bedroom window and scenting the moisture in the arid heat. She had changed to go out, a cotton dress, light blue and a pastel of flowers. It hung loose upon her brown skin, summer cool; and she watched the reflection in the glass, yellow petals setting off the dark of her hair. She added an oilskin next, yellow too, like the sun; it was as William had said, and she paused to admire the advancing storm. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You’ve won,” she said, when she entered William’s study.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Not yet.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But you will.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Sophie kissed him then, sweet lips and a warm pink tongue. The flavour of her desire lingered on his taste, and as she left William broadened his script, penning new hills, a green and rolling land stretching its fertile soil all about. He could see Sophie smiling as she stepped into this landscape, absorbing the view as though she had never seen such beauty before. Then he heard her walk, dry gravel crunching beneath her feet, light abrasions of stone on stone.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> At the end of the drive, her coat open and the sweat forming in the small of her back, she paused where a gate might have been. Instead there was a break in the bank, mounds of rock and soil bending with the lanes and extending east and west. She turned left, unhurried, enjoying her afternoon, and William worded flowers. They brought a shock of colour to the stone, standing vibrant against the granite grey; and he gave her a light breeze to cool her face, a rustle of fragrant air upon her skin.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Next he wrote the sound, birds hiding in the shade of low hedges. Their songs were soft, shrilling, and they sung of nests, calling for lovers to arrive. Below them a tease of buzzing, tickling the senses, came the rattle of crickets. Sophie turned to find the source, but it was gone, however echoing still; and in its place came a rush of whispered, petalled wings, colours taking a silent flight.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Sophie watched their rise and fall, scampers of shifting purpose as the butterflies hurried out and back, directionless across a meadow of softly curling grass. Her eyes were shining now, a moist gold to the brown surround; and with a scratch of pen she saw rabbits, a family feasting at the edges of her sight. With the greatest care, tuning her ear to this detail, Sophie could hear the crunch of sharp teeth on grass, mouths mulching their food. Then there was silence, ears alert, as though they too were waiting.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The rain did not come yet and Bill’s birds continued their rise, golden beaks escaping beyond the advance of an angry, billowing dark. The clouds seemed to shrink the sky, pressing the horizons all about; but there was no cool as yet. If anything the heat of the day increased. Bill wished, like Bob, that he had chosen to remove his jacket.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Bob, by contrast, was the epitome of professional focus. He negotiated the lanes with expert ease, and his successes showed in the confidence of his voice. He was explaining the arrest once more.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Let me put it this way, Bill.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yes, Bob?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“If magic did exist..........”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It don’t, Bob.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Of course it don’t, Bill; but if it did exist.........”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> This time even Bob showed concern. The road had narrowed to a single track, and on his right the hill fell to an invisible bottom. They drove slowly, Bill gripping the handle of his case as though it might try to escape, and neither of them saying a word. It seemed an age before they turned once more, land reappearing as if by magic. Bob increased his speed, taking up his argument where he had left off.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“..........magicians would need a licence,” he said; “it’s obvious.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Obvious too was the arrival of an unexpected sound; it sent the rabbits dashing for their burrows, and in the woods there was a canter of hooves. William did not stop, he was in full flow; as the rabbits hid, noses scenting some change, he wrote a village. It nestled in the hollow of a valley, a broad river rushing along its edge. There was a cluster of tall, woven houses standing out before a backdrop of serried trees; and when Sophie came closer she saw windows thrown open, a lazy ease, and heard voices, a drift of laughter all about.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The pleasure followed her down the street, as though she belonged in its sounds. The buildings were close now, detailed, rising on her left in a maze of foot-lanes. Her sandals walked on stone, cobbles shaped and pressed into the earth. She felt their age reassure her as she admired the houses; they were tall, smooth plastered walls with colours of autumn, russet, yellow, gold. Among the plaster, pressing into the air or criss-crossing their support, were oak beams; above the walls, high pitched roofs and rusted tiles of clay.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> William peopled next, working slowly and giving the village a routine of afternoon movements. He began with feet, footsteps sounding here and there; and they slowed as Sophie advanced, gatherings of gossip and chat. She paused to talk, comments on the heat and the approaching rain. There was no rush, and Sophie showed none, entering the butchers when she had done, beef for tea. Then, she chose the grocer, a short, thin man, dirt beneath his nails. She left with paper-wrappings clustering her bag, and paused at the door, breathing in the tease of freshly-baked bread.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The tease was new gold, crusts bursting, inviting hunger; Sophie gave in at once, stepping through a rustle of coloured streamers and eyeing the many treats on show. Mr Brown, a round, smiling man, white apron and plain, white shirt was used to such attention. He let it linger, drifting outside the glass of the cool-counter. He spoke up when Sophie stopped; he had a merry voice.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And how can we please you today, Mrs Earl?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Sophie smiled too, a delightful indulgence parting her lips, her tongue already tasting the sweet foods. Before her were meringues, green, blue and pink, sponge thick with cream. The short-bread was crisp, the nectar of a buttered-sweet, and she savoured its melt as she moved longingly on, finally settling upon the marbled simplicity of cup-cakes. She chose three.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Excellent choice, Mrs Earl; my favourite. And will there be anything else?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Not today, Mr Brown.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Very good then.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Without another word the baker lifted the cakes into a cubed, cardboard box. He handled them as some treasure, a precious gift sealed beneath a shimmering ribbon. Sophie watched as he worked, counting out her coins and noticing beads of sweat forming at the edges of receding hair. He too was feeling the heat, and he smiled as he looked up, studying her yellow oilskin and marvelling at the excess. Sophie accepted the smile with grace, waiting for the question.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And will it rain, Mrs Earl?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> "</span>Of course,” she answered; “Mr Earl is working on it now.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well, tell him it can’t come too soon.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> She passed on, leaving the rustle of colour. There was no hurry still; and when she joined the bustle of mothers outside Billy’s school, she had a practiced, not an anxious face. Billy confirmed this was needed as he rushed out, a clatter of school-voices soon forgotten; and then his mother, an embrace, the tension of a public showing and he was off, his satchel bouncing against his back.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “It’s magic today,” he called.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Yes, Billy; tell your father I’ll be up soon.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Billy did not respond. He was at full flight, a race of heroes pressing his speed to where William waited. Above him clouds gathered, dark and light; and there was gold too, treasures magicked in the air and glancing off reflections from the sun. He did not stop to admire the birds, they were racing beyond his reach; he hurried on until he made the drive, gaining new strength and scampering noisily across the stones.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> That was the signal for William to stop. He closed the golden nib into its lid, tidied the loose sheets of paper onto the top left of his desk and took a journal from the drawer. It was the first of two objects, one Billy would enjoy. He weighed its magic in his outstretched palm. When he was satisfied he stood up, moving among the cluster of his study. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> His pale face brushed among the things that hung there and he paused for thought; it was obvious once more, and he chose the yo-yo as the house came into view. It was a stone cottage, green hills surrounding and a maze of lanes. Bob did not mention it just yet; he had settled the argument in his head and wanted to keep it clear.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “It’s like driving,” he began, cranking the hand-brake into place and leaving the engine to idle on.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “What, Bob?” </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “You don’t drive, do you, Bill?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"> "No, I don’t, Bob. I’ve not got the temperament for it.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Of course not, Bill; there’s not many that have. But if you did drive; then you’d need a licence. Wouldn’t you? That’s the law.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I know that, Bob.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And..........this is the important part, Bill; if you wanted to drive, then you might drive. So even if you don’t drive, because you don’t have the temperament, or you don’t have a car, you would still need a licence. Wouldn’t you? Just to cover you for what you might do some day.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Bill gave this some serious consideration. He did not want to drive, preferred to trust to his feet. The argument blurred then, merging with the heat, his surroundings and the bass of the idling engine. They seemed to have been driving forever, and his discomfort had increased. He felt worn with travel, and he spoke to get them moving again. There was irritation in his voice.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “You’re tellin’ me, Bob,” he said; “that magicians need a licence because they want to do magic that they might do.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Exactly.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Even though it don’t exist.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “You’ve got it in one.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And we are arresting this William Earl because ........”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “.....he didn’t turn up in court........”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “........to explain why he don’t have a licence for magic he might want to do.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “You’re right, Bill........”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “......even though magic don’t exist?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Exactly once more.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Well, it sounds a strange case to me.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> They tipped over the distant hill and along the lanes as William’s spell changed. The change came as a premonition, a shudder of nerves, something unwelcome happening. He had expected some response when he began, the Order used dark magic; but this was different, no drama, just a slow and insistent approach. He leaned into the window, bending low and pressing his forehead against the glass. Above the hills were a bank of clouds, heavy grey and black. It was as he had written them, his world, and might have continued so but for the black speck winding back and forth among the narrow lanes. William watched it, telling it to disappear and it vanished over a hill. Then he changed his position, angling his head and it returned, rising to the bend of road. It continued now without his effort, something alien, moving relentlessly, slowing and turning, rising and falling.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> He could almost hear the car as the sound of the front door startled him from his watch. Billy was removing his coat to the changing of gears, the throaty bass of an engine. William could not banish the noise, it would not go; and even as Billy was hanging his satchel from the stand in the hall, stretching to the hook where it belonged, William was waking to the certainty that this car was for him. He could only guess now, his magic had failed to remove the Humber; yet he peopled it with an impossible number of men, suited wizards, oiled hair and pencil-ginger beards. Black briefcases were erected on their knees.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> He saw long fingers tapping as he stepped away, counting out the minutes till they arrived. He had fifteen remaining as the study door opened; and his calm returned to the sound of Billy’s feet, his world. He was ready then as he saw the eager face of his son. He let the yo-yo drop, a rush of gold hurrying to the boards, and with a flick the top returned to his hand. Billy watched the trick and applauded.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Ready, Billy?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Yes, Father.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Today’s lesson is magic.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I know that, Father; that’s why I ran.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> William smiled now too, the car a distant, useless thing. He was the wizard before the earnest apprentice, and in the flush of exercise on the young face, the undisputed winner of a sprint, there was magic that the Order could never diminish.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Then we must begin.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> He stepped out of the shadow, the clutter beyond his desk; he brought this clutter with him in his thoughts, a wilderness of imagination. The wild followed him to his seat, and he gestured for Billy to sit also. Billy needed the gesture; he might otherwise have stood, simply staring at the objects from which he was to choose. William noticed this, and he held them strikingly visible, yo-yo and journal in his outstretched hands, as Billy finally sat down.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “This is true magic, Billy,” he reminded; “choosing.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Yes, Father.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And now the choice is yours.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> There was no further hint once this instruction was given. Billy looked out from the low-bucket of his chair, taking his time within the comfort of its leather support. He had no need for clues either, just picking correctly was enough, and the smile of smokey-blue eyes said that the answer would come. He studied closely then, passing from one to the other, waiting and weighing the options on his own.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The answer emerged as the minutes blurred. He loved the magic of the yo-yo; it had a predictable return, a throw, a distraction of movements and then a catch; but even as he pictured this he knew that it was not enough. The magic he desired that day was unending, traversing the possible, turning and turning with a weave of words. He chose the journal then, pointing with a look, and felt the stories begin immediately.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> William helped now, the yo-yo briefly forgotten as he rested it out of sight. The journal opened with a familiar flick, and he let the pages fan until they settled with a give of the spine. When this was done he gave a further prompt.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And what will it be today, Billy?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Pirates,” Billy said at once.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Pirates?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Yes, Father; and a black ship floating in the sky.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The black car came closer, continuing at the same pace as Billy spoke a pirate ship into flight. Ahead of it, with a flourish of child magic, there was an albatross, white wings outstretched, its face pointed by a golden beak. The gold glittered beneath an occasional sun, and William saw it as Billy spoke on. The feathers of the wings extended long on either side, and they followed the bird, motionless observers as it cut a graceful path through the sky.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> They moved next, rising and falling to the rush of wing, surging forward with the story and dipping below the clouds, the press of cool air against their face. William could almost touch the blue as he listened; and he could feel the moisture of the billowing grey upon his skin. He lost himself in such sensations until he heard the change in Billy’s tone. His son spoke of fear, and the bird became a frightened, fleeing thing, its escape uncertain. William watched, and Billy shifted from albatross to ship. Suddenly there was danger, the pirates spotting a special thing, a beak of enormous value; and Billy told their unsatisfied desire, lingering on the Captain as he dressed the man.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The Captain was tall, thin, a distinguished, beggared expression wrapped in the ragged ginger of a beard. He wore a pointed cap, three-cornered. It was faded with dirt and smell. His mouth was likewise scarred, razor-black teeth darkened with rum. He spoke with a gravelled bellow, his voice announcing its purpose with the urgency of a wind. This wind served to billow the worn sails into a swollen mass, pressing its strength and speeding the ship along.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “This is the fastest ship in the sky,” Billy explained excitedly; “it can outpace the albatross with ease.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And so its capture is certain?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Worse, Father; the ship is armed with canon.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I see.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “It will blow the bird to smithereens.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “And the beak......”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “... is no use to a dead thing, Father.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The Captain raised a copper spyglass to his eye, his treasure nearing. The ship was gaining fast, and there was no escape. The grace became a hurried sweep of sinew and feather, rising and falling and pressing on. Billy told the fear of the bird once more now, panic in the dark eyes. He lingered on the details of the sounds, masts creaking, pirates shouting their commands. And then the ship turned, its victim within range, and all hope failed. The albatross was doomed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “That’s how it ends,” William enquired; the silence of his son was almost real; “the pirates triumph and claim their plunder?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Billy’s head dropped, a bird plummeting to its death. The pirates followed still, they had not fired their canon, and they were immersed in the fog of clouds. Billy let the drop continue until it was almost done; then he smiled.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s when it rained, Father.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No ship can sail upon clouds that rain.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Of course they can’t, Billy; the clouds are too slippery. So they fell?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yes, deep into the ocean, passed the largest and strangest of fish, and down to places so dark that the captain could not see the redness of his beard.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And there they rested, Billy?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yes, Father; until the next time.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> The book closed and Billy stood up, another impossible escape. He let the albatross soar, the threat of canon gone; and the pirates wallowed in their depths, planning new terror. Outside, slowing almost to a halt, Bob gestured to the drive.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “That’s the one,” he said. Bill looked uncertain.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“How would you know that, Bob?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well, it’s obvious, Bill. Just look at the address: Pretty Stone Cottage; Green Hills; Lots of Lanes; Roughly North.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That might be anywhere,” Bill challenged.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, Bill; it’s the one alright. I checked the address with the postman.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sophie felt the rain as she reached the top of the hill. The drops were individual at first, heavy and spare, sounding on the dried earth and lending a tease of musk to the late storm-heat. She saw the car then, pausing, studying her house, before it passed into the drive. The driver gave her a brief study, guessing at her purpose. Then he passed on, the rain pounding now. Sophie raised her hood, hearing William’s words and feeling their magic.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “It’s like a yo-yo,” he said, bringing the lesson to a close as he heard the car, rubber on wet gravel.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Father?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“The yo-yo falls, an impossible escape. And it comes back. Always comes back.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Always?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Just like the rain, Billy.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> William offered the yo-yo now, it was time; and Billy took it as the pirate ship emerged, its canon loaded with lead. He dropped the golden top as they sighted the bird, a precious, fragile thing; and when the yo-yo returned to his hand Sophie smiled.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “You must have tea,” she insisted. She had reached the point where the men stood. William had told her of wizards; the members of the Dark Order were uniform in appearance, oiled hair and pencil ginger beards. These men, though uniformed, did not match the image; and beneath the drench of rain they were ordinary, just officials dripping onto her drive. Sophie smiled at the escape, and thought of cupcakes, three divided into five; she could already taste the light, sweet sponge.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “.....and cupcakes, Gentlemen. Marble.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “That’d be great..........,” Bill answered, pausing, uncertain of her name.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Mrs Earl,” Sophie answered.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> “.............ah, Mrs Earl,” Bob corrected; “we’ve come for your husband.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Bob took the briefcase from Bill’s hand. It opened with a pronounced click, and he reached familiarly into its depth, extracting an official document. Sophie could see the crest in the header.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s magic,” Bill explained, still thinking of tea and cake; Sophie looked a challenge; “.....or the licence for magic that might be done if......”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We have a warrant,” Bob interrupted.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Then you must knock.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The knock made Billy start. It echoed in the hollow of the hall, and Billy’s hand missed its trick, sending the golden top crashing to the boards. William leaned forward at once to rescue the toy; but he too could sense the danger, flashes of powder, and iron ripping through the sky. There was a cry of pain, crimson leaking onto white, and the albatross fell.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s them, Billy.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Father?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“The Dark Order. They have seen the magic, and now they have come.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Then you must run.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No, Billy; it is too late.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>William stood up, winding the length of string into the valley of the yo-yo. He could feel the weight of wood, the chips and grazes of his many years of play, and he loosed it once more as he stepped from the room, hearing the insistence of a second knock. He heard the rain also, beating off the gravel, and there was a press of figures in the porch. It took a rush of courage to open the door, and he did so as the golden top came back. He saw Bill, Bob and the yellow coat of a smiling Sophie.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Mr Earl? Inspector Bob and Inspector Bill.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Bob entered first, followed by Bill carrying a black briefcase. William did not say anything at first; he was studying the men, adjusting his fear to the sight of two inspectors leaking his rain onto his stone floor. The leader looked composed, nonetheless, purposeful, as though he always dressed that way, and William accepted the sodden paper that was offered with a drenched hand.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We have a warrant for your arrest. You will come with us.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“After tea,” Sophie suggested; she had removed her coat and was smiling still; “the gentleman.....”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“.....is on duty,” Bob interrupted; “and we cannot wait.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But the rain will pass,” Sophie responded; “William wrote it.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Bill turned at this. Magic did not exist, and he had seen too many storms to believe such explanations. He saw the yo-yo drop once more, spinning to the stone and returning with a flick of William’s hand. Bob had warned him to expect as much.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Is that really your magic,” he challenged; “playing with a child’s toy?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yes,” William answered defiantly; “and I have more.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At this he held the two objects, yo-yo and warrant in his outstretched hands. He could see the men were waiting, perhaps expecting some sleight of hand; and when they did not speak he offered further guidance.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Choice,” he said; “is the greatest magic.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Choice, Mr Earl?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yes; I chose rain; you chose to turn left and right.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Roughly north,” Bob defended.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You might have ended anywhere.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> "</span>But we are here, Mr Earl; and now you will come with us.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Bob chose the warrant now, folding it with care and dropping it once more into Bill’s briefcase. The scene was ending, however mundane, and William felt a little of the irony as he accepted defeat. He passed the yo-yo to Billy, tasted Sophie’s belief in her kiss and stepped out of the house. He was drenched before he reached the car.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you really believe, Gentlemen,” he questioned as he climbed onto the back seat; he almost expected to see a line of wizards; “that a judge can make a ruling on the Dark Order; or on the magic that I practise?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Magic don’t exist,” Bill responded; “and you don’t have a licence.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And so?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You’ll go to jail, Mr Earl. Contempt of Court.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Humber started at once, and William looked to the porch as the car turned. Sophie was waving, William’s magic was the greatest of all, and Billy was playing with the child’s toy. As he caught the yo-yo an albatross took flight, and pirates were washed into the sea. William saw a glimpse of gold through a break in the clouds; and then, with a sweep of wings, the bird escaped from view.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">©2011 Padraig De Brún</span></div>Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-67324748464524099502011-11-30T08:36:00.000-08:002012-10-18T07:58:23.341-07:00November <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">30<sup>th</sup> November 2011</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Leprechauns are real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t need you to believe me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mind is settled on the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that’s my starting point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I thought I’d let you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will help you to understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And another thing; it might surprise you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their hats are not green.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are multi-coloured, chameleon if you like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only they offer no camouflage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leprechauns wear garish colours because they want to be seen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you accept what I say in good faith, I’ll tell you more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even let you in on a little secret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It surprised me when I found out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leprechauns do not laugh because they are happy; their happiness is silent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leprechauns laugh because they follow us about, and they know that we have so little understanding of our world, that we do not even believe in them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As if it makes a difference.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Think about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was sitting opposite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We sat at our table in the window of a bright, airy restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Low, classical pop played from the speakers high upon the spartan pillars of the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The music took the edge off the space between the emerging voices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even at that hour the room was full, and the voices rose to a cheery buzz. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goblets of wine and beer passed this way and that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Mary’s face had softened from her earlier anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had warmed from the tears she shed as I told her that I loved her, that I would always love her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had taken our usual seats after our embrace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waited our usual time as spaghetti, tomato sauce and buffalo mozzarella was prepared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And still Mary eyed me, gentle yet suspicious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was trying to accept what I had said about my days away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My answer, unsurprisingly, was difficult to believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had told her about the hats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is something that few people know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet she was unconvinced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This caused me to mentioned leprechaun laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But she waited, eyeing me, expecting some other account of my time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When none arrived I sensed her anger return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said I loved her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our food was served and she picked up her fork and spoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She turned the first strings of pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her skills were expert as ever, and I took the opportunity of her concentration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I challenged what she already knew, told her what I had learned in Rainbow’s End.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The green hats, jackets, dancing and beer guzzling are advertising gimmicks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are completely untrue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said nothing to this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She slopped red sauce onto her suit of deepest blue, her shirt of floral feminine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Then she rested her cutlery on the edge of the white, shallow bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would eat no more, but her look encouraged me to talk on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guessed, even as she doubted, that she had accepted that I was telling her what I truly believed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was waiting for some further proof; you too, I imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have, after all, followed a rainbow to the leprechaun circles at Rainbow’s End.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we all know what happens there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I am right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amn’t I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I had penned this tale in a Daily Free, my narrative accompanied by choice photographs of my supercar, my mansion in the background.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My wife, for I would marry Mary then, would be grasping the bottle as we popped champagne for the paparazzi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And you would believe me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would think gold and lottery raffles, not some idle diarist; that I am actually onto something.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only more than you think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not disappear for days without a word, without a call, without a message on a social network, for a crock of crude, leprechaun gold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is not my way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary means more than that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leprechauns are visible and magical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are capable of answering any desire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that is not enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary means more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I picked up my fork and spoon when we had reached this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no appetite, Leprechauns do that to you, but I understood the rituals of eating and chatting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that my news would be more credible if I delivered my words in a casual manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the thought of this, my mouth full, I felt a stab of guilt; the pretence showed a lack of faith, threatening my love, just as silence threatened Tinkerbell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I chewed on, committed; the slow eating gave me time to analyse Mary’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could see the shock that would appear at my next disclosure, and this added to my tension.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary was studying my face also, waiting for me to speak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her Spaghetti pomodoro was a forgotten thing, and the glass of cool, white wine remained just above her right hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I swallowed I opted for Tinkerbell and said it: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">November</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Her silence was greater even than yours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her expression blanked, became inscrutable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew from her continued presence that she loved me, trusted me, wanted to give credit to my words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, she was at a loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A moment in our love had arrived; a moment when she must allow me her final atom of faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I nodded to confirm that I knew what she was thinking, that I had really said that word.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">November? </span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">she asked finally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What about it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is ours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">For how long?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For as long as we want it, need it, desire it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And you want, need, desire November?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It is the month before December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>It is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A month I have never liked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>You haven’t. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And yet you would be gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Disappear for days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without a word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meet leprechauns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And bring me back November?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Yes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The length of our exchange was difficult to determine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She questioned on and on, returning ever to the impossible treasure I had secured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our spaghetti grew cold, too cold to pretend that we were still eating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in the busy restaurant I could see the waiter hovering, wondering if we had done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He clearly sensed our drama, could see the sauce and melted cheese harden upon the prongs of our forks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When he did finally descend, he was apologetic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we made no excuse for the fullness our bowls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor, did we allow him our attention as he offered a substitute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary was firing questions and I answered each in the same direct manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slowly, reluctantly, I saw the truth emerge, asserting its dominance over Mary’s features.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And gone was her anger, her sorrow, her disbelief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She understood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This understanding showed itself in her smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took my hand and there was no need for further explanation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that moment she believed what I had done, as though Mary too had stood there with me, lost in the beauty of Rainbow’s End.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she heard the voice speak up beneath the chameleon hat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The leprechaun had a sombre authority, delighted with my faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Anything, Jack; anything you desire.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I had closed my eyes and thought of Mary, only Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that it was crazy to believe, and yet there I was, crazy in love with Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The waiter delivered the bill; we shared it between us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary was excited now, and we tipped generously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She too had spent time wishing away days, weeks and months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And too much of our short lives had been passed that way, only known when it was gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But the leprechauns had given it back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And November will be our November.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, as Guy Fawkes burns we will not wait, wish the year already spent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will not long for Christmas and its lights, the distraction of Thanksgiving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will dress unsuitably, always too cold or too warm, and we will watch brown leaves fall from mostly barren trees, revel in the bluster and the showers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That is when we will be soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My story is ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary is freshening up, a girlish thing I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She laughed when I said this, took no offence when I pointed out that a few spots of tomato sauce were the least of our worries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will be together in November until we no longer desire it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that will be enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will forget to count, each moment too precious to simply pass unlived.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">©</span>2011 Padraig De Br<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">ú</span>n</span></div>
Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338402801409498213.post-35141476358035592052011-11-30T08:25:00.001-08:002011-11-30T08:25:26.700-08:00Old Man - extract<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Michael set the kettle upon the hob and lit the gas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blue of its noisy light occupied his gaze momentarily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he turned away, his eyes upon the mottled brown of the floor-tiles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These simple acts had had their effect, nonetheless, and knowing that the darkness still sat in the chair that he had shared all afternoon he looked up and scanned the pale cream walls in search of some further distraction.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When it came the distraction was obvious, a delicious surprise, as though he had not stared at it for hours, sitting in the gloom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was something of his old self that lifted the ornate, French clock from the place where it had long hung, its weight familiar and the feel of its gold casing adding to the certainty that was forming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave a bashful smile to the markings that remained where it had been.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What had prompted him to such an act he was as yet unwilling to consider; the broken clock had hung in that spot above the kitchen table for ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What he did know, and what he was unafraid to acknowledge as he stepped from the kitchen, making his way to the lean-to workshop, was that the clock he held, a birthday present from his children, deserved to be repaired.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The weeds between the paving-stones showed their usual resilience, the thick green of their stalks robust as they peeped between every available crack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Michael was not a gardener, he took no pleasure in such work, and if his mood had been a fraction closer to its norm, he might not even have noticed the decay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it was he kicked idly at the weeds as he passed the kitchen window and into the shed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There, with the exception of the light left burning carelessly, he found things as expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old leather chair, the only gift he had accepted from City Clocks, was just so, and he felt the reassurance of its much-worn leather as he pulled it out and took a seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bench in front of him showed all the order he had acquired during his many years of work, his back-log of jobs tidied with his usual care.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He gave no thought to these as he placed his own clock on the bench; nor did it worry him that the front room remained cluttered as before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The task ahead required his full attention, and he had no space for other thought as he unpinned the delicate hands and unscrewed the gilt-edged face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He might, thus, have slid from under Mary’s feet, just as she had been telling him to do.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">To his right, in a cabinet he had bought during his first week of retirement, were the tools he would need for the repair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He used these to remove the movement, arranging the casing on a tray where the four upturned screws stood in a row.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next step was easy, the mainstay of his career, and though he had often worked with such mechanisms, he enjoyed the slow, patient concentration it required.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He returned to the drawers of the cabinet, reading each label though the tools were in place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The let-down key, stored neatly in a size-ordered set, was his particular favourite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had fashioned the handle himself out of wood, and though there were few now to appreciate the skill he had employed in the making of such a simple device, he had enough self-pride to enjoy his own work.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He examined the handle slowly, appreciating its weight, before attaching it to the barrel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The movement was similar to many he had seen, and he was already guessing at the give of a bushel and the wear of a pivot as he prepared to release the ratchet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not do so, however; the wheels, trains, barrels and fly remained untouched as the let-down key paused above the spring. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">©</span>2011 Padraig De Br<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">ú</span>n</span></div>Padraig De Brunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18200495075452185835noreply@blogger.com0