Drifters Chapter 2a

This is the first answer to Richard Banks’s challenge (see 04/03/21) there will be others posting their chapter 2 to his chapter 1.  You must decide the best by voting…

By Janet Baldey

She tucks her arm underneath mine and guides me up a wide elm lined drive.  I look around but can see no lights.  Where the hell are we? We should be in the middle of the city for God’s sake.  The sky darkens as the trees thicken and bend towards us.  It’s as if they are trying to tell me something and again I get the feeling of weird.  Then, I get it and almost laugh out loud at my stupidity.  This is obviously an elaborate practical joke.  That toffee was obviously drugged.  But why?  Is Cassie trying to impress me?  I glance at her, noting the perfection of her profile, and face the fact there is absolutely no need, I am already completely smitten.

         After we’d been walking for at least a mile, a huge house appears in the distance.  I say house, it’s a mansion with lots of pointed gables and crenulated towers.  It’s a mishmash and I wonder who designed it; obviously someone with more money than taste.   I shake my head; I really am taking this too seriously.  Someone in design let his imagination run away with him, that’s all.  It’s not a real house, it’s just a backdrop.  

         However, my faith in that theory is somewhat shaken when we arrive at the front door, which is huge and obviously hewn from solid English oak.

         “Here we are,” says Cassie, somewhat unnecessarily, and pulls at a heavy-looking metal chain.  We stand listening to the muffled tolling of a bell and from somewhere deep inside I hear that damned dog again.  My stomach starts to churn as the weird feeling returns.

         Almost immediately, the door swings open to reveal a uniformed lackey.  I note the sheen on his wig and his emerald velvet coat sprigged with gold and feel seriously impressed.  If this is a joke, then no expense has been spared.

         Then, Cassie breaks the spell with a casual “Hi, we’re here to see Aunt Lucy.”  I look at her and think that if this is a stunt and Cassie’s an extra, then she deserves the boot.

         It turns out that Aunt Lucy is as impressive as the house.  If the human form could be likened to a building, she would definitely be a castle.  I stand before her feeling like a broken-down shed as she raises her lorgnette and appraises me.  She’s dressed in some sort of period costume, Edwardian, Regency, Georgian?   I rack my brains but history was never my forte.

         “So,” jet flashes as she turns to look at Cassie. “I take it that this young man wishes to know why he has been brought here.” Her bosom heaves and I am momentarily dazzled by the gems sewn into her attire.

         “Yes, Aunt Lucy.”

         Cassie is standing with her eyes cast downwards. She is definitely on her best behaviour.  She probably realises she’s goofed and is worried about her take-home pay.

         I sense Aunt Lucy’s eyes on me and jump to attention. Dammit, why?   I’m the victim here.

         “Young man. “ Her voice has softened and she sounds almost human. Damn again, she is human.  I grit my teeth, Cassie may be lovely but this is all one big scam and I must not buy into it.  Aunt Lucy is speaking again and I do my best to pay attention. This had better be good.

         “I had hoped that I wouldn’t need to have this conversation.  I had hoped that my head hunters would be sufficiently well trained to cope with any questions thrown their way. “

         I don’t need to look at her to realise she is frowning at Cassie.  A head hunter, is that what she is?   I feel as deflated like a burst balloon.

         “At least, I hope she didn’t mention space/time continuums.” Aunt Lucy read my expression and tutted.  

         “Well, forget all that nonsense.   What we do here is something much more important. Exponentially so.”

         “Excuse me, but where exactly is ‘here’” I break-in.

         “Somewhere… nowhere.”  She sees my expression and laughs.  “To be honest, it doesn’t matter. We could be anywhere.  What matters is what we’re doing.”

         “And that is……?”

         “It’s complicated and difficult to explain.  But you obviously want an answer and so I’ll try to show you.   Just close your eyes – count up to ten, then open them and try and find me.”

         I do as she says and when I open them, she’s disappeared.  I look around.  Where has she gone?  I didn’t hear anything and my hearing is sharp.

         “Have you found me yet?”

         I jump.  Her unmistakable plummy tones are behind me.  I whirl round but see nothing, except for a tiny mouse that is staring at me.  Slowly it raises one paw and salutes.  I feel waves of faintness washing over me and pinch myself hard.  The mouse has stopped saluting but its mouth is opening and shutting almost as if it’s talking.  How do they do that?

         “I’m sorry about that.  Didn’t realise you had a thing about mice.  Now close your eyes again, please.  During transference, my clothing sometimes goes adrift and I wish to preserve my dignity.”

         I do as the voice commands and when I open them Aunt Lucy is there again, with her clothes intact.

         “So now you know what I am talking about.  Surely you’ve heard of ‘shape shifters’?”

         I dig deep inside my mind and nod.

         “Good.  Well, that’s basically what we are.  In a nutshell, young man, we have a great opportunity for you.  We are recruiting, for a limited time only, intelligent individuals with good intent.”

         It’s the word ‘intelligent’ that sings to me and I start to show interest.

         “But, why?”

         “To save the planet, of course!”   Her voice deepens and rings with fervour.  “Let me explain. Tell me your deepest, most earnest desire.   As you lie in your bed at night, who or what would you most like to be?   What life would you like to live?  And remember it can be anything.”

         I open my mouth but she interrupts.

         “No, don’t say anything now.  Just think about it.  But be assured, if you pass the interview we will reward you well.  As you have seen, I myself can be an Edwardian lady, a mouse, a computer, anything”   She pauses and looks at me. “For instance, there is nothing that Cassie enjoys more than becoming a tree; an ancient oak or a redwood preferably.  Now, trees are splendid but they don’t have a great sense of time, which is why she disappeared for three months when she only meant to be away for two days.” 

         I goggle at her.  How did she know that?  I drag my mind back to the question in hand. The idea of being something different is appealing and I am tempted.  After all, my job in the Inland Revenue is less than riveting.   I put my thinking cap on.

          “Where’s the catch?”

         “No catch.  The only thing we ask is that when you eventually die, as we all must, we get a bit of your soul.  The best bit.   And your legacy will help us save the planet. “

         “How on earth…..” I bite my tongue, it seems that every time I speak, clichés come spewing out.

         “We are offering you the chance to live your dream, young man.  In turn, we are following the science.  Our scientists say that if we work hard on our recruitment drive, eventually we will have enough best bits of soul to create a perfect human.  One with abilities that will be channelled to save the world; which your lot are presently doing their best to destroy.”   She snorts and fans herself vigorously. 

         From deep inside the house a clock chimes and the dog barks again. This reminds me.

         “Why do I keep hearing that dog?” I ask.

         Aunt Lucy’s eyebrows lift.  “Oh that…. used to be an extremely successful banker. Chose to be a dog because he wanted his wife to love him like she loved her pooches.  Then he discovered he liked being just a dog, so he ran away and now we can’t catch him.” She shakes her head. “Nothing worse than an ill-disciplined dog.  Never mind, what he doesn’t seem to realise is that dogs don’t live very long so we’ll have his bit of soul sooner rather than later.  It’s in his contract.  Typical banker.  They think they’re so clever but they don’t read the small print.”

         I stand staring at her, the cogs of my brain whirling.  I’d always wished I could fly like a bird. Perhaps now is my chance. I could be an eagle and swoop down and perch amongst Cassie’s branches.

         I look across at Cassie and she smiles at me.  Suddenly, I'm a believer.   I also decide to forget the birds; a tree hugger is a much better idea.