The Dave Hinchy Code

by Richard Ainsworth

  Ruby continued to breathe deeply, feeling the crystal light thrumming through her. She inclined her head, raised her arms a little to touch the brilliant white energy field surrounding her and in a steady, even voice, quietly intoned:

  “Within this crystal, I am safe from negative thought. And will be so, whenever I return to it.”

  She remained silent and still for a short while after this, thinking of herself and Pearl and wishing the positive energy to be projected into Reverend Phullaposi.

  Presently, she sensed that the time was right and that the crystal had done its work. The energy began to subside and fade. Ruby stepped outside of the circle of power, feeling refreshed, relaxed and a lot more positive about the ordeal to come. She approached the table, picked up the crystal, popped it into the pouch attached to her cassock and sauntered back into her kitchen.

  She had decided that a quiet cuppa and then an early night would be in order after all of her exertions. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy and eventful day indeed, and she would need all her wits about her to be able to thwart whatever nastiness Devizes, Nutter and Hariman had up their grubby little sleeves.

  After her tea and a light snack, Ruby bid Tobias, Chen and Eddy a good night's rest, extinguished the lights, locked the caravan securely and, mumbling to herself to remember to order more burdock root, away she toddled, off to bed.

  All was still, all was silent, except for the echoing hoots of the two old owls living in the stunted oak tree nearby.

  Chapter 12

  A Crazy Old Bat

  For a couple of hours nothing disturbed the serenity. All was at peace, just as it should be.

  Sleep, perfect sleep…

  And then, suddenly, the small squeak of an un-oiled aluminium window frame being forced open!

  A squat, shadowy, black-clad male figure pulled itself up, through the window, and into Ruby's main room. The moon glinted off the rim of his distinctive, circular, brass glasses frames; but the real clue to his identity was the awkwardness of his jump, due to a childhood leg injury that had left him with a slight limp ever after.

  Once in, having dropped his torch outside, the intruder was completely in the dark – in more ways than one. He groped his way around, trying to be as quiet as he could. Just when he thought that he had found the item he sought, and was about to close his grip around it, two piercing red laser-like beams cut through the darkness and stopped him in his tracks.

  “Good evening, and to what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?” Eddy's acerbic voice mocked.

  Dave Hinchy (for of course it was he) froze on the spot, and raised his hand to his eyes to evade the glare of the beams burning into them.

  “Let me guess,” Eddy continued, “It's not December, so you’re not Santa; you’re too fat for the tooth fairy, and our gas meter was read the other week. So that just leaves me with one last option: the numb-skulled, dull-witted, goggle-eyed, furry-eared, banjo-toting, illiterate postman who shoves his own private mail through all and sundries' cat flaps with that dumb-as-cat-poo look slapped right across his Chevy Chase.. Hmm? Am I getting warm, sonny Jim?”

  Quite taken aback, and still partially blinded by the darting red beams from Eddy's eye sockets, Dave was trying to make out just who was addressing him.

  “Who... Who... Who are you?” Dave stammered, trying to sound bolder than he actually felt.

  “Never mind who I am. The important question right now is – just what do you think you are doing in Ruby's caravan at this late hour? Hmm?”

  Dave refused to answer any questions until he knew who was questioning him.

  Eddy felt quite insulted that his authority was being undermined.

  “For what it's worth to you, cherub, my name is Eddy. I'm a two-hundred-year-old Capuchin monkey skull, and I've far more brains in this empty piece of bone than you have buzzing around in that thick cranium of yours; that much is quite evident. I mean, honestly, who in their right mind goes snooping around a witch's private possessions in the middle of the night?”

  Dave could hardly prevent himself from laughing. He was being accosted by a monkey skull, called Eddy, of all things. It was absurd, ridiculous. He giggled, feeling suddenly quite at ease:

  “Eddy?!!! That's a stupid name for a monkey skull. Where did they dig that one up from?”

  Chen, who had been quietly observing the situation with great interest, shut his eyes at Dave’s remark. Tobias scuttled back into the kitchen; he knew the warning signs. Eddy was very prickly about the name he had been assigned, and wasn't averse to letting people know his feelings about it.

  Just as Chen and Tobias had foreseen, Eddy was becoming increasingly furious. He was far from pleased that a dim-witted post-boy should even think he was on the same intellectual level. After all... Eddy had the wisdom and experience of the ages on his side...

  “Eddy may be a stupid name for a monkey skull,” he hissed, haughtily, “But... Not half as stupid a name as Ruby is for a short, fat, old witch with an overly large baseball bat.”

  “Wha..???”

  Before he had even had time to consider just what Eddy had said, there was a swish, and Ruby swung the bat. It connected with Dave's head with a good, solid, gratifying 'Thunk!' and the would-be burglar was laid out cold on the beautifully-patterned Persian rug.

  **********

  When Dave eventually came round, he could hear the familiar voice of Ruby, mixed up with the nines times’ table and a recipe for apple crumble all chorusing fuzzily through his head.

  Ruby was standing over his inert body, still brandishing the baseball bat at him in an altogether quite alarming fashion:

  “Young man, as you must be aware from my esoteric religious convictions; I abhor violence, of any kind. In my opinion, if you have to resort to physical attack, you have already lost any intellectual argument, not to mention the moral higher ground. But, when it comes to a nefarious thug with questionable intentions breaking into a poor, defenceless old lady's home in the middle of the night... well, sometimes one has to make an exception, and go against one's principles.”

  Dazed and still struggling to retain his recently-reacquired conscious state, let alone fathom out what Ruby meant, Dave blinked stupidly up at her.

  “The pen might be mightier than the sword, but a swift, solid baseball bat across the chops certainly settles an argument quickly!” Ruby was more upset due to her sleep being disturbed than by the nature of the break-in.

  Dave struggled to raise himself but could not find the strength. Gurgling and gasping, he tried crawling out of the caravan, slithering, snakelike, on his belly. The whole world was still spinning in a revoltingly drunken manner; his head was throbbing; he felt that he was going to be sick . Ruby's angry words were still ringing in his ears all mixed up, somehow, with the 1930's French song “Boum!” by Charles Trenet.

  **********

  Dave fell clumsily out of the door, and then, slowly, using all of his mental and physical strength, he gathered himself up and staggered off, limping unsteadily, weaving from side to side like a sluggish but out of control pin ball, down the muddy track lane. He knew he had to contact help and get out of there quickly before Ruby stopped ranting and decided to haul him back for a more in-depth interrogation. He fumbled in his pocket for the small silver and jade crab talisman that Hariman had given to each of the conspirators to enable them to make telepathic contact with one another.

  The reception was crackly, due to the clouds blocking the moon's broadcasting beams. Stumbling down the lane, unsure how much time he had before Ruby would come after him, and even less sure of how long the device would communicate for, Dave begged Alice to answer his coded pleas.

  After what felt like an eternity, a sleepy, croaky, reedy voice sounded in his head:

  “David, what in the name of Hecate do you want at this time of night? I do hope it's nothing trivial or I will be most displeased. I've got a stinking cold and have only just managed to drop off to sleep... What is it? Don't b
urble! Speak clearly and be concise....”

  David began to explain all about what had just transpired, carelessly babbling out all of the plans of the Nutters, Hariman and himself...

  “Sorry, Mizz Nutter, but I need help and I need it now. I need to come in, so you’d better 'collect' me and do it quick. Is that clear enough?”

  Alice didn't want to get involved.

  “No, no. no. NO! You are not coming here. If you chose to do something off your own bat and it all went pear-shaped, then that's your problem. I don't want you drawing any attention to me, my associates or any of our plans....”

  Dave didn't at all appreciate the reference to bats, given his recent experiences. He was just about to tell Alice this, when she suddenly realised just how he was relaying all of his information to her.

  All at once Alice was wide awake. Any half-qualified, witch, wizard or warlock could tune into this crystal vibration frequency.

  “Are you communicating to me through an open aura crystal device?!” she blurted out, “Hell's teeth! Anybody could be listening, you fool!” Then, more warily: “Who is this? I don't know you! Prank call! Prank call! I'm terminating this right now... ”

  Dave was at the end of his tether and in no mood to be fobbed off and cast adrift to his own fate:

  “What are you saying you stupid old hag?! Don’t you know who it is? It's me! Dave Hinchy! I was on an errand for Doctor H., as you well know! I need help, and I need it now. If you don't help me I will be FORCED to tell Hariman, you hear me? I'll be forced to tell Hariman... YOUR BOSS, my mentor, how and why I was caught, and why and how I had to spill the beans about his grandiose plans to that insufferable old busybody Ruby Derwencast and her hoard. Do you understand me?”

  Alice sighed. “Very well.”

  Dave felt a sharp 'zap', not unlike the jolt of an electrical shock. He heard a distant crack of thunder, saw a bright flash and a puff of blue smoke, and caught a slight whiff of sulphur and ozone, as the lane disappeared from sight and he materialised instantly in Alice's cottage. The only way in which he looked any the worse for wear was due to the fact that his hair had turned the same curious blue colour as the smoke.

  Alice was not pleased to see him.

  “I'm going back to bed; you can sleep on the couch... And never speak of this incident ever again. Goodnight.”

  She closed the living room door and left Dave alone in the dark, with only a throbbing head, his still slightly smoking, singed blue hair and his own muddled thoughts for company. He sighed, shook his booming head and slumped down to try to get some semblance of peaceful sleep on the small, tatty couch. From his dark perch in the corner Brocken watched and quietly croaked a crow's chuckle to himself.

  The rest of the night passed quietly... except, of course, for the echoing hoots of the two old owls living in the stunted oak tree nearby.

  Chapter 13

  Today.... We Shall Learn of Our Fête

  Ruby was awoken by a sharp rapping and tapping noise coming from her window. Pearl had sent Magpie jack ahead of her to waken them all early, making sure that the preparations for the day would not be all at the last minute.

  The phone rang while Ruby was making breakfast. It was the Reverend.

  “Hello, Ruby? It’s Simon Phullaposi... You know how you asked me if there had ever been any reported ‘funny goings on’ reported in Widdowshins? Well... I’ve found something in the church records. About a hundred or so years ago we had a spate of reports about some alleged poltergeist activity. It’s all very sketchy and jumbled, I’m afraid, because this all occurred during the time the old church was being renovated. Well, rebuilt and replaced, really. The current church is on roughly the same foundations as the original, as you know; but not quite, and there's a suggestion in the records that when they moved it, something was disturbed as a result. Something... unholy. Anyway, the village experienced a run of ill luck, deaths, floods, misfortunes and the like. There were even reports of strange murders and ‘cover ups’. I‘m not sure whether this is of any relevance... but you did ask me to get back to you.”

  Ruby assured him this information was most helpful. “Around a hundred years ago? Would that be about 120 years ago, Reverend?” she asked, suspiciously.

  “Yes...I do believe it was. Anyway, I have to go now. So much to do in preparation for the fête, so little time. See you later! Bye!”

  There was a click, and Ruby was listening to the dialling tone.

  She slowly replaced the receiver. Things were starting to fall into place, and the place they were falling into did not look at all pleasant.

  **********

  Breakfast consisted of bin-lid-sized bacon barm-cakes and gallons of tea.

  “A hearty breakfast, a re-cap of operations, a check of supplies, munitions and logistics and then it's off we jolly well go!” Ruby bellowed from the kitchen, as she placed another couple of thick rashers of bacon into the frying pan. The sizzling was appetizingly loud and the smell was driving Tobias to total distraction.

  As they ate, Ruby set out the tasks for the individual members of her team. Pearl was to roam about the fair, on general reconnaissance, but should keep an especially sharp eye on Alice Nutter and Liz Devizes, and raise the alarm if anything untoward seemed to be brewing. Chen would accompany Ruby in her 'Gypsy Rose Lee, fortune teller to the stars' guise; his bowl would serve as Ruby's 'crystal ball', and his role was to keep scanning the astral plane for disturbances caused by malign activity. Magpie Jack was to keep an aerial watch on the goings on, paying particular attention to Hariman. Eddy was to stay here at the Operations Centre and make sure that there were no more unexpected visitors – or visitations – while the others were all about their business. Tobias was to serve as back-up for Pearl and Magpie Jack; whichever unsavoury character they were not following at the time, he was instructed to SUBTLY keep tabs on.

  “Incognito is the watchword. Remember... Softly, softly, catchee monkey,” Ruby briefed them.

  “Manners, dear!” sniffed Eddy. “Really! If there's one thing I don't need, it's constant reminders of how I got into this sorry state, OK? Thank you very, very much.”

  They all lent a hand loading up Ruby's little silver-coloured car. A small theatrical “gypsy” tent of bright blue and rich purple cloth, emblazoned with golden suns and silver moons, in varying states of wax and wane, and a myriad of other silvery stars; Ruby's Beidermeier cards; Tarot cards; some Moroccan lamps (for atmosphere); a circular three-legged Arabic table, with the full sun altar cloth for on top; a couple of padded comfy stools; a few tea-cups; tea (naturally); Pearl’s self-boiling silver samovar (to keep said tea constant and hot); some essential oils to burn; the oil burner; some candles; and Chen in his disguise as the crystal ball – all were somehow squeezed into the boot or onto the back seat

  Pearl remarked that it would take them the whole day of the fête just to set up all of their paraphernalia.

  Ruby acknowledged that her sister might be right, but: “I'm sure we can take a few 'abracadabra' type short cuts when nobody is watching too closely.”

  With that, Ruby, Pearl and Tobias squeezed into the overloaded car, bid farewell to Eddy. and started on their way.

  Magpie Jack flew on ahead. He didn't care much for cars; he much preferred the open air and freedom of flight, whatever the weather. “Flying is less noisy, less dirty, less cramped and far cheaper.”

  As he flapped away from the others, disappearing up and off towards the churchyard, they could see his wings glinting in the morning sun; jet black, yet flashing with marvellous hues of electric blue and emerald sea greens as his swooping flight and the angle of the light dictated.

  **********

  Ruby arrived at the Church gates, and was pointedly directed towards the parking area in the pub opposite, by the surly Verger, Mr Bramhall. The car duly parked, Ruby and her companions all bundled out, and began to unload the contents of the boot.

  Carrying far more than was really advisable (or practical) for
ladies of their advanced years, Ruby and Pearl transported everything to the field where the fête was being held. Each stall had been allocated a space, and to make matters as simple as possible, the spaces had been marked with a crude wooden post in the ground with a piece of white paper stapled to it.

  After a quick search, Ruby found hers. The paper read:

  “Ruby. Space needed for tent to tell fortunes and other such mumbo-jumbo tosh.”

  The Verger, who was responsible for the allocation of space and the manufacture of the signs, was neither as tolerant, nor as indulgent of Ruby's beliefs and practices as Reverend Phullaposi.

  “Hmph!” Ruby tore the paper notice from the post and methodically scrunched it up as small as possible, while looking directly at the Verger. Mr Bramhall affected not to notice.

  There was then a lot of puffing, panting, heaving – and more than a few unladylike curses – as Ruby and Pearl tried to erect the tiny tent.

  “I don't remember tents being such a problem in the Brownies,” moaned Pearl, struggling from under acres of purple and blue quartered cloth, and looking for all the world like a psychedelic ghost.

  “That's because we requested help from the scouts to put them up.” Ruby replied, retrieving a tent peg that she had somehow managed to catapult a fair distance from them, very nearly impaling Mr Atkinson as was constructing his coconut shy.

  Ruby smiled at Mr Atkinson, as sweetly as she knew how, and received a surly scowl in return. The good Mr Atkinson, like the verger, didn't hold with all this 'New Age, hug a caravan and have a lentil burger nonsense' invading the village. Sandals, in his opinion, were for Southport beach; not for dancing beneath oak trees while playing a silly flaming flute.