Hikkaba ~ (Part 3 & Last)

Hikkaba  ~  Part 3 & Last

 

By Len Morgan

Hikkaba confided to Ferlin, I think Elise would have accepted twenty-five, considering that Colin is so ill.

“I don’t understand why you involved Alan at this late stage?”

I didn’t, that was pure chance.

“But, the enchantment, how did he override it and how does that help with your predicament?”  

Just a hundred years ago, the magic encompassed the whole five acres.   Now I have just thirty yards, in any direction, around this glade.   It’s possible there is a degree of intermittence which allowed him to enter.

“It may disappear completely within five years, what will happen to you, to us, then?”

I have existed for so long; it will be interesting to discover what comes next.   Will I disappear in a puff of smoke?   Poof,   The uncertainty is exhilarating.

Ferlin gazed down at the tree.

If you wish to take photographs do so, they will do me no harm.  Very soon I shall experience the third state of consciousness.

Ferlin took out his camera.   “How do you know there are three states of consciousness for you to experience?”

Click!

I know only that ‘Awareness’ was the first state.   I have only vague memories prior to that.

Click!

“And what was the second state?”

Click!

I achieved the second state when I learned to contact and share thoughts with others ‘Communication’, was the second state.

Click!

“We need to know what the third progression could be.   Is there something we humans…”   Ferlin shook his head, dismissing the thought from his mind.

Click!

We will know in due time.

.-…-

Alan was concerned.   For several days Colin’s appetite had been absent.   He had been off work for three days with a virulent bout of flu.   Alan knew it must be serious, all the cheer and bravado had gone from Elise.   She put on a brave face for Alan’s benefit but he knew…   It was Tuesday, and he’d expected her to visit him with her wash basket.   He waited, but she didn't come.

He came down for breakfast.   At first, he thought the kitchen was empty, then he saw her sitting with her head in her hands.

“Morning mum,” he said.

She sat up and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes, with a handkerchief, and forced a smile.   “I’m sorry, I haven’t prepared breakfast, would you mind making do with cereal today?   I’m not feeling very well.   I think I’ve caught Colin’s man flu.”

“What’s wrong mum?” he went over and gave her a hug.

She started to cry, the tears poured down her cheeks and she started to tremble, uncontrollable heart-wrenching wails filled the room.  

 “Oh Alan, I don’t understand anything anymore, I feel so helpless.   If anything happens to Col I don’t know what I would do.”

Then he saw the opened letter on the table and picked it up.

“He’s got cancer,” she said.

“Oh my god!”

“According to the specialist he has six months, maybe less.”   She began to weep again.

“I’m sorry…   So sorry…” 

   

“It isn’t your fault son, but he’s my life, and he sits moping in bed refusing even to talk about it.   He just plays the same sad tunes, ‘In the Ghetto’, ‘If I Can Dream’, ‘An American Trilogy,’ over and over.”

Hikkaba, what can I do?

Think Elvis!

.-…-.

He ran back upstairs and burst into Elise and Colin’s bedroom.   Turning off the stereo he grabbed the battered acoustic guitar that had once, allegedly, belonged to the King, the pride of Colin’s collection.  

Colin sat up, “What are you doing?”

Alan handed him the guitar.   “Play,” he said. 

“I can’t, I never learned how,” his face teared up.

“A great Elvis fan like you, has never learned to play?”

“Never,” said Colin.   “I’m tone-deaf, I can’t even sing two notes in tune.   I would give anything to be able to sing or play one of the King’s songs, even ‘An American Trilogy’.”

Alan handed him the Silver Star. “Use this as a plectrum.   Think Elvis!”

“But,” his face became alert and his fingers formed the chord ‘G’ and he started to play.  His face broke into a smile.   Elise, who was standing by the door, let out a girlish squeal, began tapping a rhythm on the door panel.

Alan began to sing:

“Holly smoke oh lord snakes alive I never thought this could happen to me!" Colin took over...

"I got stung by a sweet honey bee, what a feeling came over me!”   but it wasn’t Colin singing, it was Elvis.

They played and sang, one after another, every hit Elvis ever recorded and Colin played and sang everything note-perfect.

Several hours later they finally collapsed to the floor exhausted. 

“That was the most incredible experience I’ve ever had,” said Colin.   “How?”  He looked down at his sore throbbing fingers and cried again.   “He was the most fortunate man ever to live, to be able to sing and plays like that.”

 “You were the one playing and singing,” said Elise hugging him.

Colin’s face blanked for several seconds, then he stood up, quite his old self.  “Come on you two, were going to meet a friend.”

“Alan looked uncertain, where are you taking us?”

“Your friend Hikkaba has invited us to a party in the park, ‘Hickory Park’, come on,” he said.   “Bring the guitar, Alan.”

They walked straight through the gates, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Colin, Elise, we’ve heard so much about you,” said Ferlin.

“Mr Hikkaba?”  Colin asked.

“No, I’m Ferlin.   Hikkaba is expecting you, follow me.”

Something was wrong.   Alan could feel it as soon as they entered the glade.   The magic extended just fifteen feet around the tree.

“Aah!   No,” Elise cried out and backed out of the glade.

“It’s ok mum,” said Alan.  “I’ve been here before, they can help.”

“You’ve been taking advantage of this poor innocent child?   I’ve heard about people like you,” she said.

Alan went over and plucked one of Hikkaba’s leaves, Elise followed him and he placed it in her hand.

“This is like the one I found in your room,” she said, she went silent, a dreamy look on her face.

“What are you doing to her,” he said in alarm.

She is reliving a childhood memory.

“I haven’t got a leaf, how are you contacting me?” said Alan.

Once contact is made it becomes permanent after a few hours, give or take some.

“What is happening to the magic?   The area is shrinking, I can see it,” said Alan.

Oh, that.   I’m dying so I’ve decided my death would be meaningful if I enable others to live and, nurtured new life.   Come closer.

They all moved closer to the tree, it was visibly wilting.

Give us one of your songs Elvis, ‘Loving You’ is nice.

Colin started to sing, Ferlin Alan & Elise sang backing vocals.   The magic held its ground at ten feet, it even gained a little.   As they sang on one after another, buds started to form on Hikkaba.   They sang on, and the buds grew larger and burst into bloom--Large red and white flowers giving off an incredible perfume.   When the singing stopped the petals dropped off, revealing bulbous fleshy green seed pods.   They started to swell, doubling and trebling in size.   Somebody, outside the circle, started to sing ‘Amazing Grace’.   Other new voices joined in.   Alan looked around and saw two dozen people who had been attracted by Colin’s singing.   They closed in, joining the circle, and Colin began to play and sing again.  

They sat within the balmy circle, while outside it began to snow.

It was getting dark and people were drifting away.   It had been a great evening and people wondered why they had never visited the park before.

There was an explosion, bright coloured sparks flashed overhead, like giant fireworks.  The seed pods were bursting explosively.  They shot skyward and just kept on going up into the night sky and out into space.

“They will seek worlds of their own,” said Ferlin.

Another seed pod exploded and those people remaining moved back to a safe distance.   It was a tremendous impromptu firework display that lasted for half an hour.   Then the snow began to set and the swirls became heavier and they made their way home.   Alan had witnessed the tears in Ferlin’s eyes and felt his sadness.

.-…-.

The oncologists gathered in deliberation.   They talked and talked amongst themselves.   Finally, the consultant in charge approached them.

“Mr Armstrong, I have very good news.   We can find no trace of the tumour, it has either disappeared or, he gazed pointedly at the specialist who had diagnosed Colin’s condition, it never existed.   Since there is absolutely no evidence of scarring I’m inclined to suspect the latter.   You’re completely clear of cancerous tissue and can go home.   Congratulations,” he offered Colin his hand.

.-…-.

Elise was sick on Christmas morning but felt a little better as the day progressed.  

“I’m calling the Doctor,” said Colin.

“But, it’s Boxing Day," she protested, "at least let the poor man have Boxing Day at home.” 

Colin saw the sense in it, but the sickness returned the following day, so he drove her to the local health clinic.

.-...-.

“Your sickness is perfectly natural for a woman in your condition Mrs Armstrong, it will last a few weeks then disappear.   You do know you're pregnant?”

“That’s fabulous news,” said Alan.   “Congratulations Mum and Dad.”

Colin beamed with delight.  "Don’t think we won’t be escorting you to this new school of yours, just because of a little thing like pregnancy." 

"Mmm I’m pregnant, after all these years, I just can’t believe it!”   Colin gave her a hug and dabbed at his eyes. 

I wonder if Hikkaba had something to do with it? Alan thought.

.-...-.

Before he left for school, Alan went round to 24 Hickory Close.  Ferlin answered the door. “Alan so you’re off to Gorton Grange, nice of you to call.   I have something to show you before you go."   Alan followed him into the house, and out into the park to a familiar but now unfamiliar spot.   Ferlin pointed to where Hikkaba had stood.   The area was empty.   “Come closer,” said Ferlin.   “Look!"

“Yes I see it, a green tendril shoot sprouting from the stump.”   “It may be a parasite or rebirth,” said Ferlin, "only time will tell."
They returned to No.24 where Ferlin found an official-looking envelope on the front doormat.  He opened it and smiled, "Apparently our rate demand was sent in error, people have been complimenting the council on the Hickory Close wildlife park.  We don't owe them a penny!" 

.-…-

Colin drove Elvis through the gates and drew up beside a Bentley and a Rolls Royce.   He climbed out to get Alan’s cases from the trunk.   Elise gave him a hug and Colin shook his hand slipping him a twenty-pound note.  “Never know when you may need a little cash.   Let us know how you’re getting on, send us an email or ring, and don't forget to have fun.  Life is short."

As Alan walked past the Bentley another boy pulled on a school cap and joined him, “Did you just arrive in that vintage MkI Cortina?"

“Yep,” said Alan expecting the worst.

“Cool, I wish I'd arrived in style like that."

“My name is Alan.  My dad is a professional Elvis impersonator,” he said.

“Cool, my dad’s a merchant banker, are you a first-year like me maybe we could bunk in together."

“Maybe,” he smiled, and they entered Gorton Grange together.   Maybe things will work out just fine, he thought.

/ends

Copyright Len Morgan

Supporting the NHS

Supporting the NHS

by Rosemary Clarke

I haven't got a hankie
And I've got a cold
I'm feeling rather shivery
And very, very old.
The fact that I am seventeen
Just doesn't mean a thing
All are concentrating
On this Cronovirus thing.
I can't phone up the doctor
Just like I always do,
My mum says I just can't do that...
I think I'm getting flu.
I feel so ruddy awful
I've got to keep on trying
To stay inside while others fight...
I really think I'm dying!
I need to go to hospital
Mum says 'don't make a fuss
It's only what you always get, just think of more than us!'
Mum's dosing me with cold cures
I'm chatting on my phone
It isn't really all that bad
To snuggle up at home.
My cold not really serious
As long as I keep warm,
And that allows the NHS
To keep us all from harm.

Copyright Rosemary Clarke

Reaching Out

Reaching Out

By Dawn Van Win

Reaching out into the dark

Not knowing what we’ll find

Whilst gently stepping onwards

Through the spirals of our mind 

For all the secrets ever sought

Are hidden there within

And connecting to our deepest source

Can never be a sin

If we could just sit quietly

And let them be revealed

So many hurts and bitter words

So easily would heal

By bravely reaching out 

and being seen we may discover 

Our kindred, Spirits, burning bright

Give hope to one another

So when in gloomy troubled times

Of uncertainty and doubt

These simple words, a breadcrumb trail

Beloveds please reach out

For you will find us gathered here

All resolute and true

Your tribe sit waiting patiently 

To welcome home You

In all your fragile splendour 

And your beauty unrefined 

Your value is immeasurable

Indeed you are Divine! 

By Dawn Van Win

WHAT IF? (Part 2 of 3)

WHAT IF?  (Part 2 of 3)

 By Richard Banks

He returned with their drinks and carefully handed her another rice wine when she had asked for a soda whizz. She smiled politely and made no comment. Sarlek sat down beside her leaving a gap between them that they had previously filled. He had looked forward to this date all day and now he was spoiling it. He needed to get back to how he was feeling before the mention of his work, but the spell was broken. Say something, he thought, anything. He remembered that a storm had been forecast. He was about to mention this when she lent towards him and two fingers alighted on his knee and began walking up his leg. They were about to alight on an area of his trousers unoccupied by leg when his hand abruptly halted her advance. His poker face dissolved into one of startled bewilderment. What was she doing? He knew what she was doing. It was only too obvious what she was doing. There were people watching. He stared into her face and found her making a silly expression that parodied his own. For a few moments he knew not what to do, what to say, then he laughed. How could he not? 

         They drew closer until the gap between them was no more. As before he encircled her with a long arm that dangled awkwardly at her elbow. He considered reaching down to her hand but, as it was fully engaged in the holding of her glass, he decided to stay as he was. She smiled and asked him if he was alright now. He mumbled an apology. It was the job he said. He shouldn’t let it get to him but it was make or break time. In one month his management of Planet Earth would be assessed. His whole future was at a crossroads.

         She ruefully poked him in the ribs to stop him lapsing into another mood. As the oldest of twenty-seven siblings, she felt well qualified to give advice on a variety of subjects that unfortunately did not include planet management. But what she was good at was man-management. She had learned this from her mother who having had nine husbands was a renowned expert. The knack was to get them to do what you wanted them to do while tricking them into thinking that they had thought of it first. Perhaps if she found out more about this planet management business she could find a way of making it seem less important to him. There might be disadvantages he had not considered. He needed to realise that life on Haligan was more than just a consolation prize. She would need to choose her words carefully. She had already had to cope with one sullen silence she didn’t want another but there might be many more unless he could learn to confide in her.

         “Tell me about it,” she said, her single eye trying to engage both of his.

         “About what?”

         “The job of course. It’s making you unhappy, and what makes you unhappy makes me unhappy.”

         His arm began to unravel from around her but she held on to his fingers and pulled the arm back to its previous location.

         “It’s complicated,” he said.

         “I’m sure it is. But tell me anyway. A trouble shared and all that. And who knows, I might be able to help. I do have two brains you know; they must be good for something.”

         “It’s Korea.”

         She recalled their first and only conversation about Planet Earth when he was in a good mood over the signing of some treaty or other. “Oh yes, North Korea, that’s the country that no one likes because they’re making a splatem bomb.”

         “It’s an atom bomb.”

         “Oh, right. So how are they a problem? You said they would have to stop because of the economic sanctions.”

         “Yes I know, but they didn’t work. Don’t know why, but they didn’t and unless I can find something that does there will be a war. Millions could die. It would be my fault.”

         Mia's face became unusually thoughtful. “Let’s get this straight. Planet Earth is a computer simulation created by your bosses so you can practice being an intergalactic troubleshooter.”

         “Yes.” He decided not to quibble over her inappropriate use of the word shooter.

         “Well then, no one’s going to die. The worse that can happen is that you wreck the programme so it can’t be used again. But that’s not going to happen because it cost millions of credits to produce. No one’s going to risk that amount of dosh. If you mess up there’s bound to be a fail-safe mechanism that puts everything on hold.

         “Do you think so?

         “I know so. It stands to reason. You've been spending too much time staring into a monitor. The real world’s out here, not on planet Earth.”

         “Yeah. The trouble is it’s all so believable. There’s millions of these little earthlings and they do all the normal things that normal people do. They’re ugly little creatures if the truth be told but they can be so endearing. Do you know that one of them is running across an entire continent in order to raise money for homeless children? And if I don’t stop this war he won’t make it to the finish.”

         “Sarlek, look into my eye and repeat after me. These are not real people. Nobody is going to die.”

         “Nobody?”

         “Nobody. Now let’s get on to what’s important.”

         “Which is?”

         “You.”

         “Me?”

         “Yes you. Even though you want to leave me and go billions of miles to that dreadful, hellhole of a planet you will always be in my thoughts. But if you have to go, so be it. Me here and you far away making all those life and death decisions that will probably result in Armageddon. It will be a hopeless struggle, a poison chalice, but someone has to try.” She was about to move on to the alternative scenario of life on Haligan when she noticed that he was mouthing words unconnected to his vocal cords. Her bemused expression was giving way to alarm when he spluttered back into normal service.

         “I wasn’t going to leave you. I thought you might like to come too. Yes, I know Alpha is a long way away on the edge of the known universe but it’s not the awful place you think it is. In fact, it’s rather nice. Some say it’s the most beautiful planet in the eastern quadrant, and the city where I’ll be working has hundreds of shops and restaurants, not to mention clubs like this one. The Command Centre owns a penthouse at the top of a hotel called The Excelsior and - if we were to be married - that’s where we would ...”

         “Married!”

         “I was going to ask you once I graduated, if I do.”

         “Are you sure?”

         He nodded solemnly and held her hand a little more firmly than he intended.

         “Then you had better propose.”

         “Now?”

         “Yes, now.”

         He stood up and turned to face her. He spoke in a loud voice that brought to a halt the conversations taking place around them. The words were those of his own language. Thirty-five of them, sacred words that he knew must be said clearly and sincerely. “Colubi, Colati, Colubi,” he concluded, beating his chest with both fists. He looked anxiously at her. “You must say the last three words also.”

         Rising to her feet she did as she was bid. She prepared to beat her chest but he caught her hands in mid air.

         “That is not necessary. We are husband and wife.”

         “Blimey, that was quick.”

         The consummation ceremony, he assured her, would take longer but could not take place until the twenty-eighth of the month. This was the custom of his planet he explained. The time until then was called ‘Na notti nah,’ the days of blessed contemplation.

         They sat down again and as the conversations about them resumed they were lost for words. They hugged as a tear trickled down her cheek. He was about to ask her if she was okay when she spoke first.

         “Sarlek can I say something before we start contemplating.”

         “Anything.”

         “Anything at all?”

         “Yes, we are husband and wife. Anything.”

         “Get me a bloody drink and make it a large one.”

         He returned from the bar several minutes later with a large bottle of bubble wine which he poured into two bulbous glasses.

         “Are you sure you’re okay?”

         Mia took a large sip of her drink and assured him she was. They had, she said, only one problem and that could be summed up in two words, North Korea. She gave him what could only be described as a significant look. “Sarlek, the time of blessed contemplation starts now, tell me everything you know about them.”

[To be continued]

    Copyright Richard Banks        

Write me a Love Story Ch 5

Write me a Love Story Ch 5 

CHAPTER 5

By Janet Baldey

Each morning on the dot of seven the truck from the Camp turned up and the German vaulted down into the yard. His loose prison clothes flapping around him, he’d head towards the barn door where I’d pinned a list of his jobs for the day. Then with a nod in my direction and the ghost of a smile, he’d turn away. After our first meeting, I’d done my best to avoid him but was always conscious of his presence. So far, he hadn’t put a foot wrong but I was sure it was just a matter of time. Market day was drawing near, the day when I’d have to leave him alone on the farm, and I grew certain it was what he was waiting for.  Images of flames engulfing my cottage haunted me and when the dreaded day eventually rolled around I had to force myself to leave. As the cart jolted down the hill, I kept staring over my shoulder, watching as my home dwindled into the distance.

All through the long day most of me was back at the farm. I found it difficult to concentrate and several times gave people the wrong change; every mistake flustering me and making me even more miserable.  At long last, the crowd began to thin and I was just thinking about packing up when I saw Sarah walking towards me.

‘What’s the matter love? You look worried’

         She leaned on the trestle table, looking at me out of narrowed eyes. I evaded her gaze and looked at the rapidly emptying market. So far as I was aware, no one outside the camp knew about the German, I certainly hadn’t told anyone but in closed communities word got around. I struggled to find the right words, it was difficult to admit I’d caved in but Sarah was bound to find out sooner or later and she might be dreadfully hurt if it was second hand.  At last, I swallowed my pride and looked at her.

 ‘I gave in, Sarah. I’ve got a POW working for me.’

There was a brief silence during which I held my breath, then Sarah took hold of my hands and squeezed them.

‘Good for you. I wondered how long it would take for you to come round.   You couldn’t possibly manage all on your own, especially in the winter. We all realised that. But what’s the problem? Is he no good?’

‘I really don’t know. He’s hard-working and seems to know what he’s doing,  there have been no problems so far. But, he’s a German, Sarah. All-day I watch him like a hawk. And if I lose track of him for a few minutes I worry that he’s escaped. Even worse, I’m scared that he’s plotting something. What if he sets fire to the farm, just to get his own back?  It’s on my mind all the time and I hate it.’

 Sarah was quiet for a moment and then she spoke, her voice decisive. ‘You need to relax, you’re all strung up. Tell you what, I’ll ask my Tom to come and give him the once over. He’ll sense if he’s a wrong ‘un. He’s a great judge of character. Over the years, we’ve had all sorts working for us:  gypsies, tramps, the odd city wallah, and we’ve never had any trouble. Tom is good at sussing out rotten apples’.

Immediately I felt a wave of relief: someone else was taking over. I liked and trusted Sarah’s husband, I’d go along with whatever he said.

‘Thanks, Sarah.’

‘ You’re welcome and what’s more, I’ll ask him to come over this afternoon. If you’re worried, I’m worried; I want to be sure you’re safe. Now, I must go. Got to be home before my marauding horde gets back from school, otherwise, there'll be nothing left for the Nazis.’ 

Winking, she gave me a cheery wave

***

Tom had been gone for a long time. I turned away from the window and paced across the room wondering what I’d do if he decided the man wasn’t to be trusted.  My teeth sawed at my underlip, despite all my misgivings, the farm had been running much more smoothly since the German had been around. I sank down into a chair, suddenly drained of all energy and as weariness washed over me, I felt certain I couldn’t cope on my own again.

  ‘Right me girl, time to get the kettle on.’

The chair squealed as I shot to my feet. Tom’s frame blocked out the light as he stood in the doorway; ducking his head under the lintel, he came inside.

‘I don’t believe it Tom, how can someone as big as you creep up on me?  I’ve been watching out for you for ages.’

He laughed.

‘Practice, Flora. It’s all those years spent avoiding bailiffs and bank managers.  Now, how about that tea?’

Five minutes later, his hands dwarfing the cup, he looked at me, his face serious.

‘Flora, I’m sorry about all the trouble you’ve had. I wish I could’ve been more help, but you know how it is.’

‘Don’t worry, I understand. You’ve got a big farm to run and it’s good of you to spare the time today. But please don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the verdict?’

Putting down his cup he leaned back in his chair.

‘Right. I’ll be honest, when Sarah asked me to give this chap the ‘once over’ I was worried. I didn’t know how to go about it. I could have just gone with my instinct but if I’d been wrong….’ He stopped, letting the silence speak for itself.

‘Then I had a think, several of the guards at the Camp are drinking chums of mine. I know the Sergeant well. Oakes is a sound bloke. So I got on the blower and put it to him and I can tell you one thing, he’s certainly not worried. Y’know, the men that run the camp aren’t fools. They know your circumstances and if they sent you a shifty character and anything happened, there’d be the devil to pay. And as for him escaping, where would he go? No civvie clothes, no money, no food. Okay, he speaks good English but there’s no mistaking that accent.’ 

He shook his head.   ‘Anyway, now I’ve seen for myself, I’ve watched him at work and I’ve had a good chat with him.  I’ve done my best to be critical but at the same time fair, so you might find what I say next a bit odd. The fact that I rather took to him, I mean. It seems strange, even to me. After all he is a German. But then again, putting prejudice aside and looking at things objectively, he’s polite, he looks you straight in the eye and he knows what he’s talking about. I think he’s OK.  In fact, I wouldn’t mind employing him myself.’

         He leaned towards me and looked into my eyes. ‘What I suggest is, just give him a chance, eh?  Not all Germans are monsters and if you think about it, it can’t be easy for him either’.  

I looked at him, beginning to realise I’d over-reacted. Like any ignorant clot, I’d forgotten to use my brain and let bias cloud my judgement.

‘I expect you think I’m stupid.’

‘Of course, you’re not. You’re in a very difficult situation. We’re all going through something we’ve never experienced before, we’ve all got a lot to learn and it pays to be cautious.’

Just as he was leaving I heard the sound of the army truck. In a few minutes, they’d both be gone and I’d be alone again. I shivered and put my arms around myself.   I thought I’d got used to silence but it seems I’d been wrong.

When I took Georg out his tea the next day, I put a slice of plum cake in the saucer. His eyes widened.

‘For me?’ 

I was rewarded by a replica of the smile I’d noticed the first time we’d met and smiled, in return.

In the days that followed I still kept a close eye on Georg but for a different reason. I noticed the number of times that he crossed the yard to spend a few minutes with Barley, stroking her neck and muttering to her in a low voice. As for Barley, she seemed to love the attention, pricking up her ears and whickering softly whenever she caught sight of him.

My fingers tapped at my mouth as I watched. Georg was thoroughly at ease with her and, if he understood ponies, he might be able to handle a bigger animal.  

***

The sky had been scarlet as I made my way to Barley’s loose box whistling under my breath and feeling in my pocket for her morning sugar lump. As I drew nearer, I suddenly felt uneasy. Normally Barley would be waiting for me, her head poking out of the stable door, eager for her treat, but this morning there was no sign of her.

 I opened the stable door and peered into the gloom. The mare was standing in a corner, her head drooping. As I unlatched the door she looked up apathetically, then her eyes rolled and she gave a shrill squeal. Turning her head, she drew back her lips and with her long yellow teeth started to bite at her belly. She blundered around her loose box, her flanks heaving, islands of sweat soaking her hide.  Backwards and forwards she lurched as if desperately trying to escape from whatever was hurting her. Horrified, I stood rooted to the spot until, to my utter relief, I heard the familiar sound of the truck.

As I clutched at the half door, I turned and screamed, my voice cracking with effort.

‘Quick, something’s wrong with Barley.’

Georg dropped down from the lorry and I saw the surprise on his face change to alarm as he raced across the yard.

Entering the stable he took a quick look and ran to the skittering pony:  dodging her thrashing hooves, his hands probed her sides. After a while, he turned around.

‘I think it is the colic. You need to get a horse doctor at once.’

As he spoke, Barley’s knees buckled and her body began to sway.

‘Help me, quickly,’ he said ‘We mustn’t allow her to go down. She may roll and twist her insides.’

One on either side, we heaved and pushed at the little mare forcing her upright. Grabbing a headstall Georg kicked open the stable door. 

‘I will keep her walking, it will ease the pain. Now, you must go and get help.’

Copyright Janet Baldey

Reflections

Reflections

By Dawn Van Win

This Golden age of treasures rare

A time to grow a time to share

Your lessons learnt with sweat and tears

So pause and now release your fears

And drink it in, this time and place

Where you are now, your progress traced

Created by your life so far

Upon this spinning blue, green star

Then sifting through this hard-won soil

Through 50 years of joy and toil

Time to reflect, rejoice, refine

And gather in all that is mine

To nurture it and give it space 

And raising up a smiling face

To mother moon to thank her so 

for love and light which helps us grow

She shines so bright through deepest dark

Revealing treasures in our hearts

We see the way on from this place

So once we’re rested, filled with Grace

We carry on, refreshed, renewed

Another year, all rainbow-hued

To turn the soil, reveal new seeds

And watch them grow

Follow their lead

With courage, perseverance too

Each cycle time to learn anew

one of the beautiful murals at Diamante, Calabria - artist unknown

Copyright Dawn Van Win