A LIFE BEYOND

 by Richard Banks

It was on her birthday that Ava spoke the notion about going to Ludon. It would be OK, she said, no one lives there any more. How do you know, I thought but did not say. If I had we would only have quarrelled and this was not the time or place. Like most of us around the campfire, she had drunk too much beer. In the morning, thoughts of Ludon would likely be forgotten.

         Kolo appears not to have heard her. He throws a log on the fire and says we should sing Ava the birthday song, so we do three times. Joy gives her a rabbit’s foot for good luck. I also have a gift, a neck chain I once found in the ruins of an old tumbled down place where people use to live. There’s some writing on it which I tell her says Ava, but I don’t know. Only Wanda reads. She has a book. It is, she says, a book of days, days that have numbers and names. We too have names which she writes in the book on different pages. Each page is a day and the day that has our name on is our birthday. Each morning she turns the open page to the next until she reaches the end of the book, then she starts again. This she tells us is a year.

         Kolo, who is head man, says that Wanda is the keeper of time and that, providing we have the book, Spring will always follow Winter. We keep it safe from the wind and rain. Wanda says that once there were many books. This her grandmother told her. When Wanda dies, and she is old beyond memory, no one will know the secret of the words. Kolo throws another log on the fire, the last one he says. While the fire burns, the roaming dogs keep their distance and we can see each other in the dark.

         The village prospers, our numbers increase. Kay and Heny who died in the winter have been replaced by four healthy children, two boys and two girls. Soon they will be weaned and, like the rest of us, feeding on the corn we grow and the beasts we hunt. Those of us who are hunters know the woods like the back of our hands and every type of creature living there. The women and children tend the field and gather the fruit that hangs from trees and bushes. We eat well. The woods are our woods and no other tribe comes near. There are two that we know off from their camp fires many miles to the north and west. Once some of them came close enough to be seen, but only once. Like the dogs, they keep their distance, as do we.

         The last of the beer is drunk and the uneaten meat and bones were taken to the edge of the village and thrown down in a heap for the dogs to devour. We go back to our huts, Ava with me to the one I built two summers ago when she left her father’s hut. She said we would have many sons but so far her belly is empty of child. If none come soon I will return her to her father and take another wife. A man must have sons.

         We lie beneath the hides she has stitched together. In winter our bed will have more coverings and we will cling to each other for warmth, but for now the air is warm and there is little need for covers. In the next hut Mal and Viv are also in their bed, loud and lusty in their linking. Mal has chosen well, he already has a son. At last, they are quiet and the only noises to be heard are those of the night-time creatures. The beer was strong and all I want to do is sleep.

                                                                        *****

         I wake up to find the door is open and the sun shining in my eyes. A hazy figure stands in the doorway. At first, I think it is Ava but she is lying by my side. I shade my eyes and see Kolo. He tells me to get up and bring my bow. I am needed for a hunting party. Ro-be, who should be going is unwell from the beer. “Now!” he says, impatient to be off, “the other men are waiting.” I get up and put on the belt that holds my knife and axe. There is no need to dress, the sun is hot and clothes will only slow us down. We must be as free as the beasts. When they run we must chase them, as best we can. I take my bow and quiver from the wall and join the other men outside.

         We set off, pausing at the river to drink and wash our faces. The water is no more than knee-deep and we wade across into the woods and check the pits we have dug. There are six. In the fourth one is a cow, legs broken from the fall. It is loud in its pain. Kolo drops down onto its back and slits its throat. The body we cut it up into pieces small enough to be carried back to the village on spits. Two men do this; a third guards what they can not carry, until they return. While he waits he will make good the thin covering of leaves and branches that hides the pit. The rest of us press on to the other pits but the coverings there have not been broken.

         We continue on to a clearing in the woods through which a small stream flows. Although there are many such streams this is a favourite place for drinking. We go to the tree line and lie down in the grass. We are not long in waiting. A deer comes with two fawns. She is sharp-eyed, smelling the air for the scent of other beasts, but we are downwind. We watch for Kolo’s signal and when he gives it we rise up and let off our arrows, but none find their mark. They flee, and for an hour no other creatures come. When they do, we are in luck, a flock of sleep. Gathered together, drinking at the water’s edge, they are too big a target to miss. Two fall and the rest race back into the woods. We run forward, one is still alive and I end its pain quickly with my knife. As is our custom Kolo dips his finger in the blood of the sheep I killed and makes a cross on my forehead. The man who kills a man-horse or bull will also drink its blood so that he takes into himself the strength and spirit of such beasts, but no one drinks the blood of a sheep. Its woolly hide, however, is much favoured for warm clothing in winter which while no longer than sixty days can sometimes cause the rain to freeze and lay white upon the ground.

         We return to the village where we strip the meat from the skins and give everyone their share. Women and children get less than the men and the men who hunt, more than those who don’t. There is also bread and fruit. No one goes hungry. We are busy in our work. If not, our bellies would be large.

         Kolo takes me to one side. “What is this about going to Ludon?”

         I tell him that Ava was silly with the drink and that neither of us will be going, even if we knew where it was. 

         He sighs. “The old story. Everyone has it, told by their mother who heard it from their mother, and them from mothers long before. One story but never quite the same. Most talk of a great sickness that killed the people of that place, others of a high rising of the sea that drowned it and all those within. Some say there was both. Others that there was more than one sickness, that it came and went many times. Still, others that the place was called Norwic or Colches. Best you stay here where life is good and there is much to eat and drink. No sickness here;  in another place, who knows. If you leave you can never come back.”

         This is the most I have ever heard him say. I give him my blood oath that we will be staying. He watches me cut both my arms and let the blood trickle down towards the ground. He catches some in the palm of his hand and with his tongue, takes it into his mouth.

         He smiles. “We are brothers,” he says, “everyone here is a brother. We work together, stay together, we live by most-men laws.” He smiles again and changes the subject. “How are the chickens that Ava tends?”

         I answer that since we built the pen in which they live they lay many eggs.

         “Yes,” he says, “it is better than before when we roamed the forest for their nests. The pen was Ava’s idea, was it not?”

         I say, “yes.” Everyone knows that why does he ask?

         He comes to the point. “When Wanda sleeps the unwaking sleep we will need a wise woman to take her place, to keep the book that turns the night today and makes the seasons turn. Ava has been chosen. From tomorrow she will live in Wanda’s hut learning the secrets that only Wanda knows. Your coupling tonight will be the last. Tomorrow you will pick another wife, maybe one that suits you better makes you many sons. You like Cora, don’t you? I see the way you look at her. She is wide of hip and quiet of mouth. She will suit you well. Her father knows you want her and will say yes. He is of the Council. This is a good match.”

         I agree. How can I not?

         I go home to tell Ava, but she has been talking to Wanda and already knows. In the morning she gathers up the things that are hers and takes them to Wanda’s hut. I speak with Cora’s father and take her back with me. She couples well but burns the mid-day meal. In the afternoon she goes foraging with the other women and I cut wood with Wil and Hal. The sun shines hot upon us and the sweat upon our bodies turns to salt. We go to the river, drink, and cool ourselves by swimming with the fishes. We are as one with earth, stream and sky. Long may it be.   

Copyright Richard Banks     

 

Another Day in Purgatory.

By Bob French

I skipped breakfast, knowing that it would be the usual eggs, bacon, sausage and baked beans, in favour of a strong cup of sweet black coffee, then sauntered over to Herby, a battered old Humber Pig, an armoured personnel carrier, that had saved our skins on numerous occasions during the past four months, to inspect the petrol bomb damage she had sustained two nights ago. 

          As I surveyed the scared and bubbled paintwork under the ark light, Driver Alexander, ‘Spud’ to the rest of the platoon, and my vehicle engineer, stuck his head out of the side hatch.

          “Much damage Spud?”

          “Nothing a spot of paint won’t fix Boss.  Problem is we only got yellow and red paint.”

          I nodded and made a mental note to speak to the battalion Quartermaster, turned, and bumped into Gus Harrison, my platoon sergeant.

           “Got a problem?”

          “Not really Boss.  Just wanted to ask if we should take young Ashford on the raid.  As you know he’s only been with us for three weeks and hasn’t stepped outside the compound yet?”

          I quickly brought the image of the young blond haired nineteen year old from Cornwall to the front of my mind.

          “Have you had a word with Corporal Smith whose been putting him through his paces?”

          “Yeh, he’s fit enough but as for holding it together when it gets serious, Smiddy and I are not sure.”

          I pondered for a second.

          “Corporal Smith is with the decoy team, so get him to take Ashford along; give some a little slack, but tell Smith to keep an eye on him. He’s got to learn someday.”

          As I moved towards the briefing room I noticed that shadows were starting to form as the sky was just starting to take on the tinge of dawn; another fine day in this God-forsaken war torn province where religious hatred going back hundreds of years and now seem to be a way of life for everyone.

          From the darkness off to my right ‘Spooks’ or Staff Sergeant Eddie McAlister of the Intelligence Corps suddenly appeared; a steady hand and a veteran of the troubles of Belfast.

          “Morning Eddie. Everything ready?”  It was a question I knew the answer to before I had asked it.  His nod confirmed my concern. 

          As I struggled to take one last drag of the damp stubby I subconsciously looked up at the wet corrugated high tin walls and the wire mesh that was the roof over our compound.  This small fortress off Gibson Street, behind the Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast had been home for the twenty-five men in my platoon for the past four months.  It was our last week of the tour and I had this nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong today.

          The briefing room was already full of cigarette smoke and men as ‘Spooks’ and I entered, bringing the jibes and friendly banter to an instant silence.

          “Morning lads.  Right, let’s make this quick. Our task this morning is to assist the Green Tops, The Royal Ulster Constabulary, in making an arrest of a known bomb maker on the corner of Springfield Road and Cupper Street off the Falls Road.“

          My intro was interrupted by the groans from the platoon and I casually waved them to silence.  “We all know that this is a bad area to operate in, so eyes all round OK.”  I let the chatter die down.

          “Now we have done this sort of thing dozens of times with the Green Tops, but let’s not get complacent.  Remember those three poor sods from B Company last week that had to be medevacked back to Woolwich minus some of their arms and legs having been caught in a booby-trapped pit of a so called ‘clean house.”  Instantly I recalled my sergeant’s words to me on my very first tour in the province; a lifetime ago; “Trust no bugger.”

          I then turned to Spooks who was pinning a large street map of north Belfast onto the notice board. His crisp cockney accent bringing silence to the room.

          “Right lads, listen up. Corporal Jenkins and four men will deploy in a Land Rover to Hammond Street, here, as his finger taps a place a few streets away from a map pin that indicated the target house, at 05:25 hours, where you will report to Sergeant Flynn of 35 Det of the Green Tops.  Many of you’ll know of Flynn’s reputation, so keep out of his way.  This is a decoy mission so listen to what he wants you to do.”  A murmur went around about mad man Flynn.

          “Sergeant Harrison will take Herby and six men and report to Inspector Liam O’Connor and his team at the corner of Wentworth Street, here at 05:25 hours.”

          His finger tapped a junction very close to the map pin; nobody commented. It was getting serious.

          “The target house is situated here at the junction of Springfield Road and Cupper Street.  This is a known IRA area so bloody well be sharp.  You know what will happen if you are late?”  Laughter ran through the room as they recalled what had happened to a young Grenadier Guards Lieutenant who had rolled up ten minutes late for a hit and had to be Medevac back to Woolwich with a broken nose.      “Remember the moral of the story…”  And everyone recited back to Spooks.  “Don’t be late.”

          “Lastly, Boss, Evans, Jones and George will cover the rear of the target house.”  I smiled as I knew I was in good hands. The battalion rugby team’s front row; animals to a man. 

          “Your task is to apprehend anyone who flees the target house.  Remember, no one gets away got it?”  His threat was aimed at everyone in the room.

          As the men of my platoon started to get dressed into their equipment, Spooks quietly came up on my side.

          “Boss, I have just been informed that F Troop may be on the ground.  It appears they also have a target of interest.”  I nodded slowly. That’s the last thing I needed, I thought, was to have the boys from Hereford wandering around the area.

          “If you’re challenged, your password is ‘Wembley’ and his should be Clacton’ got it?” 

          It was still dark when I drove Evans, Jones and George through the back streets off the Falls Road.  As I drove under the railway bridge I thought I saw someone quickly step back into the shadows of a door-way and cursed. It would take just one phone call and the whole show could turn to rat shit. 

          Once I had found the empty garage that Spooks and told me about and hid the land rover, we quietly started to make our way through the narrow alleyways and paths of Belfast towards the laying up position, some fifty yards behind the target house, using the dim light of dawn to move whenever possible, and waited.

          The fine rain had increased and the wind had picked up as daylight gradually increased and I felt my body crave for a cigarette but knew it would be a dead giveaway.  No Irishman in his right mind would stand in the wind and rain smoking a cigarette. 

          Time seemed to drag until 05:30 hours, when I heard the commotion over at Hammond Street.  Seconds later there came a splintering crash and Inspector O’Connor’s bellowing voice cutting through the silence of the dawn as he forced himself and his team through the remains of the front door and up the stairs of the target house.

          Lights instantly came on in nearby houses; curtains were edged back and people in dressing gowns started to come out into the street to see what all the noise was about. Angry voices were starting to be raised and I knew that this was always the worst time and thought of Private Ashford and how he was copping.  Anything could happen and I hopped that Sergeant Harrison and the boys could handle it.

          We held our position for about five minutes when suddenly Jones saw a figure sprinting down one of the narrow back paths and without warning, jumped up and sprinted after him.  I suddenly felt sorry for whoever that man was once Jones had got hold of him.  As Evans chuckled, having read my thoughts.

          George put his finger to his lips, silencing the huge Welshman.  Then it happened.  A tall thick-set man came sprinting around the corner.  George simply stood, took three quick steps toward him and hit him with a rugby tackle right in his stomach.  The man went down like a rag doll and before he knew what was happening, George had rolled him over and handcuffed and hooded him.

          After a while the man seemed to recover and began to struggle and threaten George.  Even I knew you had to be mentally disturbed to give Mark George any lip, but to my surprise, George had knelt down beside the man and spoke quietly into his ear.  After that, the man was as good as gold.

          “Ay Mark, you should have been one of those councillors who elps people with their anger management.”  George grunted.  Not impress with Evan’s observation.

          My team and I were to remain in position until 05:40 hours, then quietly withdraw with anyone we had taken.  It was then that Jones came back through a narrow passage from behind us with the man he’d chased in tow, handcuffed and breathing heavily. There was blood all over his face.

          Mark George looked up and grinned.  “Fall over did he Jonesy?” Which brought a chuckle from us all.

          “Time to withdraw lads. Make sure our two guests are prepared to come with us without making any noise.” As we started out back towards the garage a man dressed in jeans and an old black overcoat suddenly appeared from one of the dark alleyways off to our right and stood in my path and spoke with a strong Geordie accent.

          “Sorry Boss. But I’ve got to take this one off your hands.”  He nodded toward the tall lean man that George had felled and nodded.  Although I was prepared, this man’s sudden appearance put the fear of God into me.

          I frantically tried to remember the passwords.  What was going through my mind was the response Spooks had told me, ‘if you give him the wrong password, you’ll probably be taken out by a sniper who will be watching over the repossession.

          “Wembley.”

          The man smiled and quietly said ‘Clacton.’

          I turned to Mark George and nodded. “Hand him over George and be quick about it, I want to be out of here asap.  I will explain everything later.”

          George pushed the tall lean man towards our intruder who grinned, whipped off the hood and spun him around and cut his plastic bonds.

          “You alright, Dave.  Think you got away with it?” The tall man nodded, turned to me and George and winked.  Then they were gone, faded into the shadows where they lived and worked.

          That night in the platoon bar I explained to George, Jones and Evans who the stranger who had spirited away the man George had felled was.

          “He was from F Troop of the SAS, probably working as a mole inside the IRA. 

          As young Ashford started singing at the top of his drunken voice I grinned at Corporal Smith; another war hero. We had three days to go, then back to England and a well-deserved rest; till the next time.

 

Copyright Bob French

Len's Diary Excerpt (2) 1999

 

Len’s Diary ~ Balance I ~ (2) ~ 02/06/99

by Len Morgan

“Kill her!  Do it now!” Anthrax commanded.

“No!” he answered tearfully, “She’s…she’s so beautiful.”

“That’s the test boy!  How can you ever hope to become a wizard of the first order if you can’t act dispassionately?” Anthrax shook his head despairing of his acolyte.  “Love, beauty, good and evil are meaningless; just words…  Where the guardianship of the Universe is concerned, what is the life of one triple winged dragonfly?” He gave Morlen a contemptuous oblique glance, and – CRUSHED HER – with the power of his mind.

Two disembodied wing fluttered to the ground and:

THE UNIVERSE SHOOK!

 

Alexander an the folks next door Part 2

 

Alexander an the folks next door Part Two

Chapter Six 

A heavy body came flying towards them through the corn.   Becky squealed in terror but Alexander had caught a glimpse of gold-coloured fur.    The thing was certainly hairy but it wasn’t the giant.

‘Button!’ he cried.

Then he noticed the dog was carrying something and his expression changed.

‘Bad dog’ he said sternly.  ‘Drop.’

At once Button opened his mouth and a baby rabbit tumbled out onto the ground.   It looked around with a dazed look on its face and hopped slowly into the corn.

‘Is this your dog?’ Becky said

Alexander nodded.    It wasn’t exactly a lie, he thought.  After all, it was his at the moment.

‘I’ve got an idea’ he said.   ‘I think Button can show us the way out.’

He picked up the end of the lead, still attached to Button’s collar.

‘Home boy.’  He said.

Soon the stalks of corn began to thin and finally, they sighed with relief as they stepped out of the maze.   Their relief didn’t last very long.   Although they were out of the clutches of the corn, they didn’t recognise any landmarks.   Alexander couldn’t see the path that had led into the field and Becky had no idea where they were.

‘We must have come out on the wrong side of the field.’

‘I’m not going back in there’.   Becky said.

It was then they noticed a wood and Becky’ expression brightened.

‘ I recognise that’ she said.   ‘I think it’s a short cut home.’

Alexander looked at the wood and shuddered.   Its trees were huddled together and its black outline, silhouetted against the dark blue sky, reminded him of a large animal, crouched and ready to spring.

But Becky was already trotting briskly towards it.

‘C’mon.’ She said.

At first, the light from the moon shone on a narrow path leading into the wood but as the trees grew thicker, they blocked out the moonlight and the path disappeared.  Slowly, they groped their way along, trying to avoid thick tree roots twisting like snakes across the ground.

‘Are you sure you know the way?’

Becky hesitated.   Then, she nodded.

All the birds and insects were asleep and it was very quiet in the wood, apart from an occasional rustle in the undergrowth that Alexander guessed came from small nocturnal animals that only came out at night.   Once, they stopped dead in their tracks as they saw a milky white shape floating silently through the branches.

Becky clutched Alexander’s arm.

‘Is it a ghost?’ she gasped.

Alexander shook his head.

‘Don’t worry.  It’s just a barn owl.  It’s not interested in us.  It’s out hunting for mice and shrews.  Its wings are specially made so that they don’t make a noise when it flies.   We learned all about them at school.   I expect you will too when you get a bit older.’

They hadn’t gone very much further when Becky whimpered.   She stopped and clutched at her stomach.

‘I’ve got a stitch in my side and I’m tired.  I can’t walk any further.’ 

She began to cry again.

Alexander stopped.   His legs were aching too.

‘Ok.  We’ll have a bit of a rest.’

He looked around and saw a little grassy hollow by the side of a bush.   They lay down and Alexander looked upwards trying to count the stars that twinkled through the gaps in the trees.    Soon, Becky started to snore.  The sound made Alexander feel very sleepy and slowly his eyes began to close.  

Chapter Seven

The next thing he knew was that he was sitting upright, his pulse-pounding.  Something had woken him.   It was still dark, so it wasn’t the light.   He sniffed, and a delicious smell of roasting meat wafted towards him.   His mouth filled with water.   Suddenly he was ravenous, he couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten anything.   

‘Wake up.’ 

He prodded Becky and her eyes opened.  

They glanced at each other.

‘I’m very hungry’ whispered Becky.

Quietly, they scrambled to their feet and crept in the direction of the smell.

Soon they heard a crackling sound and a sort of low grunting.   Dropping to their hands and knees they crawled through the undergrowth.   Alexander parted some bushes and peered through them.

‘Look’ he whispered.

In a clearing ringed by trees, a log fire was burning.  Orange flames flickered brightly shining on the faces of two men crouched by its side.  With a start, Alexander recognised one of them.   It was the man who had followed him down the path.  If anything, he looked even more ugly now.   His face was almost entirely covered in hair and his yellow eyes glinted in the firelight as he gnawed on a lump of meat.   The man sitting next to him looked equally hideous and their table manners were very bad.  Bones were scattered everywhere and grease from the meat was running down their chins.   They were chewing with their mouths wide open and suddenly, Alexander didn’t feel hungry any more.

Silently, he let go of the bushes and mouthed at Becky.

‘Let’s go.’

He began to back out the way he had come.  Then, a thought occurred to him.  Where was Button?   The dog was nowhere to be seen.  

‘Oh, no!’ 

With a feeling of dread, he looked back through the bushes.   

 Belly low to the ground, Button was slinking towards a hunk of meat just behind the two men.  

He had nearly made it when one of the men spotted him.  With a roar of rage, he jumped up and grabbed a burning branch from the fire.  Sparks from the wood cartwheeled into the air as he hurled it at the dog.  With a startled yelp, Button ran off and immediately the two men gave chase.   Transfixed, the two stood listening to the deafening sound of snarls, shrill whines and crushed undergrowth as Button was hunted deep into the wood.

‘Poor Button.’

Becky’s face was chalky white.

‘Don’t worry.  I’m sure he can run faster than they can.’

Suddenly, Alexander had an idea.

‘Wait here a minute.’

Quickly, he sprinted towards the clearing and grabbed two chunks of the meat.

‘Here.  This will make you feel better.’

They stuffed the food into their mouths.   After chewing for a while, they could feel energy flooding through them and when they’d finished they felt ready to start walking again. 

Chapter Eight

Alexander glanced up at the sky.  It was very dark now and he realised that his mother must have found out he had disappeared ages ago.   She must be frantic with worry.  Maybe she had called the Police.  He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach when he did get back, she was going to be really angry with him.  

‘C’mon.   We’ve got to hurry’. 

He grabbed hold of Becky’s hand and started to drag her along the path.

They hadn’t gone very far when they heard a flapping sound, like wet washing drying on the line.  It was so loud and so sudden that they both stopped at once.

They looked around but couldn’t see anything.   Then, from behind a tree a dark shadow moved towards them.

Alexander’s breath caught in his throat and his mouth opened as he gasped for air. 

As the shadow drew nearer, it separated and became two figures.   They were both dressed entirely in black and their pale faces gleamed in the moonlight.

Alexander and Becky stood as if their feet were anchored to the ground.   Becky was trembling so violently that Alexander put his arm around her to hold her upright.

‘Becky, what are you doing out here?’

Alexander felt Becky’ body stiffen and saw a look of joy and amazement appear on her face. 

‘Dad?’ 

Becky struggled out of Alexander’s grasp.

Suddenly Alexander realised something was very wrong.

‘Becky, come back,’ he cried.   ‘It’s not…..’

‘What’s wrong Alexander?’

 The other figure used his mother’s voice and Alexander was suddenly furious.  

‘How dare you.  You’re not my mother!’  he shouted.

He was so angry, he completely forgot to be scared.

The figures took a step towards them and Alexander saw that they were male and female.   The woman was very beautiful with long glossy black hair and deep red lips.

‘Please don’t be angry with us.’

Her voice was soft and sweet and Alexander felt himself calming down.

‘We impersonated your parents so that you wouldn’t be frightened.  We’re             sorry if we upset you.’

‘What do you want?’

 ‘We believe, you have something that belongs to us.’

‘What?’

‘Our dog.’

‘Button?’   Alexander was amazed.

The man chuckled.

‘We call him Fang.’

Alexander’s mind whirled as he struggled to understand.

‘But Button lives next door to me’.

‘That’s right and so do we.’

‘But…..’ he stuttered, trying to understand.

‘We’re your neighbours,’ the woman said gently, ‘and Button, as you call him, is our dog, Fang’.

Alexander shook his head.  Gathering all his courage, he opened his mouth and the words flooded out.

‘Then, why don’t you look after him properly?  Why don’t you take him out  and why don’t you groom him?’

The man interrupted.

‘But we do, we take him out at night.’

‘We always go out at night.’   The woman said gently.  ‘That’s why you never see us.’

Alexander stared at them.  He remembered a book he had taken out of the library recently.  It had really scared him.   It was all about creatures who looked human but who only went out at night.   They were called.

‘Vampires.’

The couple spoke, both at once.  They must have read his mind.

Alexander’ legs shook.   He couldn’t believe his ears.

‘You’re vampires?’ he whispered.

‘That’s right. I’m, Japhet. This is Elvira.’  The man’s voice was friendly.

Alexander thought he was going to faint as he remembered what vampires liked to eat.

Again, Japhet read his mind.

‘There’s no need to worry.   You’re quite safe.  We don’t drink human blood.   We used to, in the Old Days, but we’re more civilised now.  We get our nourishment from small animals, mostly rabbits.  Fang helps us to catch them.’

With a start, Alexander remembered the grey fluff on Button’s fur.

‘I think that’s cruel. I’ve got a pet rabbit.  I call him Flopsy’. 

Becky’ voice was a bit wobbly but it was loud and clear and Alexander felt very proud of her.

‘Fang only chases wild rabbits.   And they don’t feel a thing.   It’s very quick and then they go to Rabbit Heaven.   Every creature has a purpose you know.  By the way, where is Fang?’

Chapter Nine

Alexander started to feel frightened again.   They would be angry when they found out.   They would think he hadn’t been looking after Button properly.

He looked down at the floor and muttered in a low voice. 

‘Some nasty hairy men were in the woods.  Button stole some of their meat and they chased him through the trees.’

To his surprise, Elvira laughed.

‘Oh, you mean the werewolves. They’re very low and stupid creatures.

They can’t make up their minds whether they are men or wolves.  Don’t worry,  Fang will have no problem getting away from them.’

Just then, a golden streak flashed into the clearing.

‘Fang!.   Elvira held out her arms.

The dog rushed towards her, wagging his whole body.  Making excited little yipping noises he jumped up and tried to lick her face.

He was so pleased that Alexander realised they had been telling the truth.  He was their dog.

 Japhet and Elvira turned to the children.

‘All’s well, that ends well’, they said.  ‘Now, we have to get you home.’

Alexander’s worry must have shown in his face.

‘What’s wrong.’ Elvira asked.  ‘Don’t you want to go home?’

Alexander shuffled his feet.

‘Mum’s going to be so mad at me,’ he muttered.   ‘I didn’t actually tell her I was going out and I’m supposed to be sick.’

Japhet laughed.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said kindly.   ‘Time does funny things when we’re around,’  he winked at Alexander.  ‘Come on, jump up.’

Alexander loved going on the Big Dipper at the Fair but that wasn’t half so much fun as being whisked through the air on the back of a vampire.  He remembered feeling the softly scented night air streaming by him but he must have been more tired than he realised because when he next opened his eyes, he was back in his own bed. 

Chapter Ten

‘I must have fallen asleep,’ he thought.

Then, things got even stranger.  His bedroom door opened and in walked his mother carrying a tray.

‘How are you feeling now, dear?’ she asked.  ‘Do you think you can manage some tomato soup for lunch?’

Lunch? But it had been night just now.  It must have all been a dream, Alexander thought.   He was surprised at how disappointed he felt.

His mother put the tray down.

‘Call me if you want anything else,’ she said.

Just then, she looked down at his bedroom floor and a puzzled expression appeared on her face.

‘What are these doing here?’

She bent down and picked up his combats.  They were crumpled and covered in mud and twigs. 

His mother clicked her tongue with annoyance.

‘These are dirty.  What a nuisance, I must have forgotten to put them in the wash.’

After his mother had left the room, Alexander lay working things out.   It hadn’t been a dream.  His muddy clothes proved that.    He remembered Elvira and Japhet saying that time did funny things when they were around.   They must have turned the clocks back somehow.   He let out a huge, excited sigh, so he really did have vampires living next door to him. He scrambled out of bed and ran to the window.  Leaning out as far as he dared, he caught a glimpse of Button in his usual place outside his kennel.  

The dog looked up at him, then his jaws opened in a doggy smile and Alexander could have sworn he winked.

Then, he lifted his muzzle to the sky and Alexander realised that he wasn’t howling.   He was singing.

ENDS
 

Copyright Janet Baldey