Moondog and the Reed Leopard

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Moondog and the Reed Leopard Page 12

by Neil Mach


  ‘But you have seen supernatural beings, haven’t you? You make it sound as if you’ve never seen a ghost. But you have, haven’t you? Please tell me you experienced truly magical things. What is it like?’

  ‘Well, yes, I have. But, to be honest, not often. And you must keep in mind that although people talk about ‘seeing a ghost’ we don’t usually ‘see’ a supernatural entity. It can’t be seen, because frequently it’s invisible… although a supernatural entity can be comprehended. We might use the term: to experience a presence — and that’s utterly different from seeing something. If you recollect your experience down at the pool tonight, you will know that you used all your senses to involve yourself. Remember that? It’s worth remembering the sensation you had because it’s what ‘seeing a ghost’ is all about. It’s an experience.’

  ‘Can I ask you about natural spirits, like the Pooka? What is it, in reality?’

  ‘Well, there are things that have solid, tangible existences aren’t there? Things like wooden benches, or this car. You could touch them, smell them, hear them, and even drum your fingers on the outside and taste them if you wanted, yeah?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘But a bench or this car doesn’t have a consciousness. It doesn’t know it’s a bench; it isn’t aware it’s a car. These things don’t care if they’re alive or dead because they don’t have sentience. With me so far?’

  ‘Obviously,’ she creased her brow though, to be fair, some of his words threw her.

  ‘We know there are perceptible, touchable things that have no consciousness. So, it’s reasonably fair to assume the opposite must also be true. Because there are two sides to every coin. The opposite is a thing you cannot see, hear, nor touch. It’s not detectible and not observable. But it does possess a consciousness. It knows it exists even though it can’t be perceived…. It knows it’s alive, even though nobody can explain what it’s like…’

  ‘Are there really such things?’

  ‘Oh yes, of course, plenty. Although, like all-natural things, they are becoming rarer and some have become extinct over the last hundred years. Such things were once found all around the world. But they are scarce in Britain now. People have been aware of spirits since time began. It’s only in modern times that man has lost touch with the spirits that surround him…’

  ‘So, you believe in ghosts, witches, vampires, fairies, spooks and all that magic stuff?’

  ‘I keep an open mind. A man who once saw a ghost told his best friend: ‘There are more things in heaven and on Earth than are dreamt of by your scientists...’ and it’s true. Disbelievers only disbelieve because they haven’t been presented with any evidence yet. The paradox is: they will never be presented with evidence because they will willfully ignore it when it comes. The only difference between me and those scientist/disbelievers is that I consciously go out of my way to seek evidence...Normally, when I find it, it disproves the existence of the supernatural entity.’

  ‘But sometimes you do? Sometimes you find evidence of paranormal things?’

  ‘Occasionally. But, like I’ve said, most uncanny events are easily attributed to cognitive errors. Either that or mass media coverage or sociocultural factors…’

  ‘You said your job was like being an undertaker. What kind of person hires someone like you?’

  ‘People who have a problem and need a quick solution. People who have a question but know they will never have a perfect answer. People, like your Chief, who can’t settle because he’s worried sick he once saw a ghost-cat. Remember, ninety per cent of my cases are natural occurrences that have become misinterpreted. Although a witness will always swear blind that they saw a truly bewildering sight — it was bizarre to them —it probably has another explanation. That’s what I investigate. I investigate the other explanation. And it’s why I tell people that I investigate thing that didn’t happen.’

  ‘Would you say you’re a modern-day exorcist? Have you seen Van Helsing? It’s a film. He’s a vampire hunter. Are you the same sort of thing?’

  ‘I think Van Helsing is a fictional character. You reminded me earlier tonight that I am real. I have not seen the film, no. But I understand that your Van Helsing fella had an open mind and he was a metaphysical researcher. So maybe I’m similar.’

  ‘What does metaphysical mean?’

  ‘Metaphysics is trying to understand how consciousness and matter combine to create a spiritual entity. Imagine if the thing that can’t be perceived learns how to inhabit some material or substance that he’s found so that he can be observed. That would make him more believable, wouldn’t it? All disembodied spirits would like to be believed. That’s their greatest wish. Imagine what a nightmare it would be to be disbelieved? Imagine if nobody thought you existed? That would be a nightmare, wouldn’t it? You’d want to show them all, right? So, sometimes, a spiritual entity will try to inhabit a place or thing… or even another creature… to show everyone they exist.’

  ‘Are ghosts spiritual entities then? How are they made?’

  ‘They are. They are consciousness and matter combined.’

  ‘What was it like when you saw your first ghost?’

  ‘A good way to check that someone truly did see a ghost is to ask how they felt. For me, directly after my first encounter with a spiritual entity, I knew I’d experienced something unique and unexplainable, I felt overjoyed. But a few hours later — when I reflected on the manifestation — my shock grew palpable. People talk of being scared of ghosts, but that doesn’t make sense… There’s no awareness of menace at the time… but later, when a person thinks back, that’s when they’ll get the trembles...’

  ‘Have you ever seen a zombie?’

  ‘No, there’s no such thing. It’s a modern concept. But there are things called ghouls. They are very real. But quite rare these days. They’re the closest thing we have to Zombies. Ghouls are spirits, a bit like the Pooka. But unlike the Pooka, they inhabit extremely remote places because they don’t like any proximity to humans. They were known, by the early people of the Bible, to live in remote places. The Bible folk knew about them because, when they were persecuted by the authorities, the Bible-folk had to run away and hide in the same far-flung areas that the ghouls wandered.’

  ‘Zombies are mentioned in the Bible?’

  ‘Not Zombies, ghouls. Most things are mentioned in the Bible — didn’t you know that?’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘It’s a book of light and dark, truth and wisdom — so most things are mentioned.’

  ‘Aliens?

  ‘Well, angels are mentioned a lot — angels appear randomly and interfere with humans; they come out of the sky and can ‘beam down’ or fly. They’re indestructible, and they look a lot like aliens. So, maybe, yes.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘Vampires, witches, ghosts, dragons…’

  ‘Vampires, witches, ghosts, and dragons are in the Bible?’

  ‘Of course, yes. Don’t you ever read the scriptures Hopie? Me, I don’t read… But I was taught the Bible stories around the campfire. You read, so you don’t have an excuse, do you?’

  ‘Er, no.’ She shifted her toes a bit. ‘Do you ever go to ghost-hunting? My friend likes a show called ‘Most Haunted,’ it’s about paranormal activity.’

  ‘God has warned us to stay clear of occult practices. I don’t get involved in all that stuff. I accept that some people have a different psychological disposition to me, and such people might be more sensitive to things outside this sphere. But I’ll be honest with you, and there are a lot of charlatans in that game. If anyone calls an investigation ‘a show’ — often, it’s a deception.’

  ‘Hocus Focus is a show, isn’t it?’

  ‘My point entirely.’

  ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘I already told you. I live on the road. Only a wild heart can discover the deepest truths...’

  ‘Do you live with someone else?’

  ‘Not presently.’

  �
��What do you think I should do with Jimmie?’

  ‘Jimmie? That’s an abrupt change of subject, Hopie. Do you care for him?’

  ‘No, absolutely not.’

  ‘Then you need to get away from him. And quickly too. The lad is a menace. I recommend you find a new life someplace else.’

  ‘I would like to join you on the road...’

  ‘You wouldn’t like it...’

  ‘I know I would have a lot to learn, but I feel excited when I’m with you. I feel complete. Is it too early to tell you that? Do you think I could join up?’

  ‘Join up? It isn’t the Girl Guides, you know. I was put on this earth to be a roamer — it’s written in my bloodline. You, on the other hand, my darling Hopie, you’re a settler. You were put on earth to remain in one place. And to settle. You need to find a heart-place to anchor yourself to. You need to find a place where you can plant the soles of your feet. To become peaceful. Or you’ll be drifting on this earth forever. If you continue to drift, as you’ve done ‘til now — you’ll be most unhappy...’

  She didn’t hear anything past the words ‘my darling Hopie.’ She gazed into his alluring blue eyes then reached across to hold his arm. ‘How long will you be here at Hugh-Lupus — my hopeless wanderer? I need you by my side,’ she said. ‘Won’t you stay here? At least a little while longer...’

  ‘I will linger while you still need me.’

  *

  ‘I have sour news for you...’ Moondog said as they purred down the Rothley by-pass in his Hummer.

  ‘Oh dear, what is it?’

  ‘I can’t take you to Hugh-Lupus I’m afraid. This car stands out like a King’s aunt at a pauper’s banquet. It will attract massive attention. And by attention, I mean from the boys in blue...’

  ‘You’re going to leave me stranded at the Little Chef, right?’

  ‘No, of course not. I have a heart, you know. I propose to drop you at the Holiday Inn and wait with you until a minicab arrives.’

  ‘I guess that’s okay.’

  *

  They arrived at the big Holiday Inn at Dunington Forest, three miles from the edge of town. Hopie started to get a feeling of choking nothingness in the pit of her stomach as they pulled up outside the illuminated entrance. It was a whimpering sensation like a little leprechaun that had rolled up inside her and taken residence. Her date was about to end. It had been incredible. Would there ever be another night like this?

  Moondog discovered his phone and turned it back on. It had been in the Hummer all along, just like he said. He knew the number of the local taxi company by heart, so he didn’t have to go through his contact list — a sharp skill for a person who did not read.

  ‘How do you find numbers if you don’t read?’ she dared ask.

  ‘Images. I associate a picture in my mind with each contact I make.’

  ‘What picture do you have for me?’

  ‘I don’t have your number yet...’

  ‘Right — that’s true, but if I did give it to you— what image would you have for me?’

  ‘A doe, of course. A female deer.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  The cab company knew Moondog and even knew precisely where to find him — which seemed remarkable. ‘I opened an account with them...’ he explained. ‘So, you do not need to pay the man when you get home. Just let him have this…’ He passed a five-pound note. ‘Say it’s from me and thank him...’

  ‘Yes. I still have the tenner you gave me earlier. Do you want me to give it back?’

  ‘Keep it for next time...’

  Next time?

  Within a minute, a clean Mercedes arrived at the hotel.

  ‘Here he is now...’

  ‘Oh, flipping frog’s squats —I do not want this evening to end,’ she said. She flickered her moistened lashes, and her cheeks went blotchy.

  Moondog inclined across the console and kissed her on the bridge of her nose. ‘That’s to seal your Ajna. The blessed place where intuition resides. Your Ajna is sealed forever by my love and protection...’

  ‘Oh my...’

  He watched Hopie dry her eyes. Then he rolled his shoulders before he spoke again. ‘What are you doing after mass?’

  ‘Mass?’

  ‘Church, chapel. Whatever you do on the Sabbath. You pray regular, don’t you? Today is Sunday. What are you doing after mass this afternoon?’

  ‘Nothing, why?’

  ‘I’m going to meet a man; he’s a witness. Would you like to come along?’

  She returned a bright smile. ‘Oh, yes. I would love to.’

  ‘Splendid. In that case, you’ll find me on the allotments that run along the back of Charleyhall Avenue.’

  ‘I don’t know where that is, but I will find it. What time?’

  ‘When you get there...’

  He cracked open his door and threaded out his strong legs. He ran to her side and opened-up the heavy door for her, then helped her step down.

  ‘See you tomorrow...’ he said.

  Then he was gone.

  Charleyhall Avenue

  Before the early Mass on Sunday, Moondog presented himself to the priest at Hugh-Lupus church for reconciliation. After a penance, Moondog moved to the church entrance, where he gave heartfelt welcomes to the regular worshippers when they arrived. He handed out newsletters and Order of Service. When Mass ended, he helped tidy the church, then thanked the priest for the homily, and walked a short distance to the allotments at Charleyhall Avenue.

  As he expected, many growers had already arrived to work on their plots of fruit and veg. Moondog strolled the neat rows, to watch the activities of the allotmenteers, as they picked, plucked scraped and gathered on their plots of land. He went to a lady, who looked to be in her fifties, and who kept a grumpy puppy-dog tied to a stake, and he said, ‘Best of the morning to you. Back breaking work is it? Do you need a man?’ She smiled kindly but shook her head.

  A man in a knitted coat toiled on a nearby plot so Moondog offered his services to him. But the man gave Moondog an unpleasant snarl. So, he withdrew with a nod.

  Near a wall that separated council land from a private estate, Moondog found a red-haired posh-lady dressed in cream and wearing a wide-brimmed hat. She had a shallow basket over a crooked arm. ‘What about you, Missus? The best of the morning to you…’ he offered. ‘I’m generally asking here about if anyone needs manual help. Do you need a working man?’

  ‘I’m fine...’ she said. ‘My needs are met with a general hoe-over once a week; I need nothing more.’

  ‘Very good,’ Moondog replied. ‘But at this time of year, even a hoe can be exhausting. Are you sure you don’t want me to help you out? Or maybe you know someone who needs a pair of strong hands?’

  ‘Are you looking to keep busy?’

  ‘Yes, I am Ma’am. I want to earn coin for ale and pie. What do you say?’

  ‘Have you done this kind of work before?’

  ‘I have toiled on the land since a nipper, Ma’am.’

  ‘Nipper and scrapper, huh?’ Moondog sniggered at her joke and allowed his unruly hair to bounce. He pushed it down with an angled arm that positively ripped with vigor. ‘Well, I don’t have much here…’ she looked him up-and-down. ‘But my sister has been poorly over winter, and her allotment is a frightful mess. If you would give her thatch a bit of attention, I’m sure she’d show gratitude.’

  ‘But where is your sister now Madam? I don’t see her...’

  ‘She’s at home. I’ll be sure to tell her you called by. How long are you in town offering services?’

  ‘A few days yet...’

  ‘Do you have a number?’

  ‘Of course.’

  The red-headed lady settled her trug to find-out a pretty phone, decorated with roses. Moondog provided his contact details, and she stored them in her memory. ‘What name should I use?’

  ‘Moon, Ma’am — please store my number under the image of a full moon’

  ‘If you insist. Very well, all do
ne.’

  *

  Moondog drifted casually down the centre path and whistled cheerfully. He passed another patch, where he caught a glimpse of an elderly man who had bent to work on a pile of canes.

  He heard a shout, ‘Hey you, lad.’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Are you looking for jobs? I saw you speaking to that lady…’

  ‘That’s right, sir. The best of the morning to you. Do you have work that a strong man can do?’

  ‘A digger, are you?’

  ‘That I am.’

  ‘It’s been years since I last saw a laboring digger in these parts. God bless you, boy. Some of the others might not share my enthusiasm, though...’

  Moondog made a show of giving the man’s allotment a comprehensive scan. Then he put his arms on his hips and threw back his head: ‘Your neighbours are nice enough, sir, there’ll be no complaints from me. I did not unearth any rudeness.’

  ‘Well, that’s gardeners for you. I suppose. We are children of Adam…’

  ‘That you are, Sir. You want me to fix your plot?’

  ‘I cannot pay much, though, mind — and the earth is hard as rock. But I need it dug over...’ he pointed to the furthest end of his allotment. ‘Do you think you could dig half of that for an old man?’

  ‘Do you have a pick?’

  ‘I do, and it’s a strong one. But are you up to it?’

  ‘Can I ask a tenner, sir? Only I need a tenner for a drink and pie.’

  ‘That’s steep. How about I offer you five?’

  ‘For two hours back-breaking work? Are you a slave-driver?’

  ‘I could do it myself...’

 

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