One Moonlit Night

by Caradog Prichard

  How did he become good, then?

  Heard the Voice he did. Move your feet in case I burn you, said Mam, as she put a fresh block of hot metal from the fire into the smoothing iron with the tongs.

  What Voice?

  Never mind what Voice, she said, going back to her ironing.

  You don’t remember those days, chick. You hadn’t been born. It was the time of the Revival and lots of people were hearing the Voice every night. It was in Salem Chapel that most of them heard It. But there were some who heard It by the side of the Foel, and some on Allt Braich, and others on the Riverbank, and some were just walking along Post Lane and some were just lying in bed.

  Really?

  Yes, really. There was a strange atmosphere round here in those days. But Will Starch Collar was the only one who saw and heard the Voice at the same time.

  Saw the Voice? How could he see a Voice?

  Well, he’d been in The Blue Bell drinking all evening one night, and he was going home rolling drunk, staggering from one side of the road to the other along Post Lane past the Lockup. And when he turned off Post Lane to go home across Stables Bridge to White Houses, he suddenly felt terribly ill, and put his head over the side of the Bridge to be sick. And when he’d finished throwing up and was still looking down into the River, what did he see but a great wheel of fire, whizzing round and coming along the River and up the side of the Bridge. And when it came over the Bridge wall and stopped by the side of Will Starch Collar, although the old devil wasn’t wearing a collar or tie at the time, the wheel of fire started to speak to him.

  Will, you old sinner, the Voice of the wheel of fire said to him, haven’t you been saved yet? Do you know where you’re going? Do you know you’re going to Hell, headfirst into the middle of the fire and brimstone, to damnation for all eternity? And Mam lifted the iron from the table and turned it round in her hand to show me how the wheel of fire was speaking.

  Poor Will, she said. He was leaning on the wall of the Bridge and shaking like a leaf and staring like an idiot at what he was seeing. Then he started shouting: What shall I do? Oh, dear Mam, what shall I do? Then the wheel of fire answered him, saying: Repent, sinner, Repent. And then the wheel started to whizz round and went back over the Bridge wall and down to the River and went out.

  Old Will went back home to White Houses as sober as a saint, and where do you think they saw him next?

  I don’t know. Where, Mam?

  On his knees in the Sinners’ seat in Salem Chapel, shouting with all his might like a madman: Salvation is like the sea, ever rolling to the shore. He never went near the old Blue Bell again, anyway, and instead of sleeping late and missing his shift in the Quarry and going about without changing his clothes after Quarry Supper, he had a clean collar every night and a black tie to go to the Fellowship Meeting and the Prayer Meeting in Salem Chapel.

  When the Salvation Army came here, he went to join them. And for ages afterwards, he used to tell the story of the wheel of fire on Stables Bridge in his Saturday night sermon outside the Lockup. He never tells it now, not since he’s started playing that old trombone in the Salvation Band.

  Mam was good at doing impressions of people. This is how he used to finish his sermon, she said, and held the iron up in her hand and raised her voice to sound like Will Starch Collar outside the Lockup.

  I am Saul of Tarsus, he used to say, said Mam. I am Saul of Tarsus. I have seen the light of eternal salvation shining upon me. But it wasn’t on the road to Damascus that the light of eternal salvation shone upon me. No, my dear people, it was from a wheel of fire on Stables Bridge on the road to White Houses. And it shone on me, me who was not ashamed to sit among those who mocked the Lord in The Blue Bell. Take warning from Saul of Tarsus before it is too late.

  But everyone called him Will Starch Collar, said Mam.

  Dew, Mam was on good form that night, and I was rolling about laughing and having great fun listening to her take the mickey out of Will Starch Collar.

  Did you hear the Voice anywhere, Mam? I said.

  I don’t know, she said. No, not as far as I know, love. I was a young girl at the time, you know. But I’ve heard a great many strange things since then. Yes, by God. Have you finished learning your verses?

  Just about, I said. But I’d forgotten all the verses by the time I went to bed, and I couldn’t sleep for the life of me until Mam came to bed. Then all night I kept seeing the wheel of fire whizzing round and hearing the sound of firecrackers just as though it was Bonfire Night.

  4

  ONE THING’S FOR SURE. I won’t lose my way on Post Lane tonight, like I did the day we went to pick bilberries. Moi wasn’t with us that day. He was in bed cos he’d caught a cold when Little Owen the Coal took him with him to catch salmon and made him stay out all night without his overcoat, looking out for Jones the Gamekeeper.

  They only caught two, Moi told us the week after. What good were two salmon? he said. With me having to go to bed for a week and not being allowed to go out to play or go bilberry picking with the lads to Pen y Foel?

  We’d said the night before that we’d meet at the Crossroads at five o’clock in the morning, everybody with his pitcher and his tuck box. Everyone was there before five except Huw, and I was feeling a bit uncomfortable cos all the others were girls except me. Mary Plums and her two daughters were there with enormous pitchers, not little ones like me and Nell Fair View and Kate White Houses had. We only had a little pitcher each cos we were only going to pick bilberries to take home. Mary Plums and her two daughters had big pitchers cos they were going to sell their bilberries when they came home and get a lot of money for them.

  Come on, lad, I said to Huw when he arrived, we’ve been waiting for ages.

  It’s only five o’clock, said Huw, rubbing his eyes. Huw had a little pitcher too.

  Come along now or the sun’ll be up, said Mary Plums.

  So we set off for the Waun the same way that Ellis Evans Next Door’s group had gone looking for Em, Little Owen the Coal’s Brother. We’d asked Mary Plums and the others if we could go with them cos we didn’t know the way to where the bilberries were on Pen y Foel. Mary Plums wasn’t very keen at first.

  You’re too small, she said.

  We’re as big as your two girls, said Huw.

  Alright then, said Mary Plums. But mind you’ll have to walk sharpish and not go wandering off.

  We will, I said.

  We won’t, said Huw.

  Dew, it was cold after we passed Waun Farm, and we followed each other quickly through the Foel gate. Nobody was up yet at Waun Farm. But we woke one poor soul up when we made a noise squeaking through the gate. It was Charlie, Ellis the Waun’s dog, who was there barking his head off, but he must have been tied up cos he didn’t come after us.

  When it started to get light and we’d been walking for a really long time, I thought we’d reached the top of the Foel.

  No, you silly fool, said one of Mary Plums’ girls who was in front of us, there’s a long way yet. That’s why Huw and me thought we’d reached to top, cos there was white mist around us, but the further we walked, the further the mist went, and the more mountainside was coming into view. We were always thinking we’d reached the top of the Foel, but we’d only reached the top of a small hillock and there was always another hill in front of us.

  Dew, I’m nearly out of breath, said Huw behind me, and I started to slow down and Mary Plums and the others were getting further ahead of us all the time.

  Come on, you old slowcoaches, came the voice of one of Mary Plums’ girls when they were just about to disappear from view over another hill, Mam’ll send you home if you can’t walk faster than that.

  Come on, Huw, I said to Huw. We mustn’t dawdle any more.

  And the two of us were puffing like steam engines. But when the next hill came into view, Mary Plums and the others were sitting on the top of it waiting for us.

  They must be tired too, said Huw behind me.

  It was
great to have a break when we got to the top of the hillock and we sat down and relaxed and looked down the hill at the Village far below us, so far that it was nearly out of sight. There was smoke coming from every chimney and, on the other side, a wagon was moving on top of the slate tip in the Quarry.

  What time is it? I said.

  Half past seven, said Nell Fair View.

  How much more walking have we got? Huw asked Mary Plums.

  Only half an hour.

  Are there a lot more hills?

  No. There it is, Pen y Foel.

  And when we looked up, there wasn’t a bit of mist ahead of us, just Pen y Foel and the sky.

  We’re starting picking over there, said one of Mary Plums’ girls, pointing out the distant spot to us.

  We had to walk for about another half-hour but it was great to be able to walk on the flat along the sheep track among the bilberry bushes, instead of walking where it was slippery all the time. And after reaching the best spot for picking bilberries, we all sat down and everyone opened their tuck boxes and took out some bread and butter. Huw and me had forgotten that we’d be thirsty and we hadn’t brought a bottle of milk like the others had. But Huw had a drink from Nell Fair View’s bottle and Kate White Houses gave me a little drink from hers.

  Off you go now, everyone with their pitcher, said Mary Plums, and everyone went off to start picking bilberries.

  Hey, you’ve been eating bilberries, said Huw after we’d all been picking on our own for hours, your mouth’s all blue. And you’ve not even covered the bottom of your pitcher yet. Look, I’ve got mine quarter full.

  I put some in a sandwich, I said. Dew, it was good too. Like bilberry pie.

  Don’t let Mary Plums see the bilberry juice on your mouth. She won’t let the girls eat a single one.

  I’ll wipe my mouth, then.

  No good, it won’t come off. I fancy going over there to pick with the girls now. They’re in the best place for bilberries.

  Alright, I want to stay here. You go ahead.

  And Huw went.

  From where I was sitting I could see Post Lane a long way below me, and the River alongside it too. And motors going back and forth along it like ants, some going up to the end of Black Lake and others coming down into the Village. I’m sure, I said to myself, if I set off I could slide all the way down to Post Lane, except that I’d be going at a hell of a speed when I reached the bottom and I’d have no brakes, like Davey, Johnny Edwards Butcher’s boy, when he went flying down Allt Rhiw on his bike and crashed into Bob Milk Cart’s wagon and got a big dent in his forehead. I’d have a great slide down to Post Lane if I had a brake, I said, and made another bilberry sandwich with the few I had left in the bottom of the pitcher. Then I’d be able to walk down Post Lane without having to go all the way down from Pen y Foel and through the Waun. I’d be home long before the others.

  You’d think the sky would look so near from here, with us having climbed so high. But it didn’t look close at all as I lay flat on my back, seeing nothing but blue sky without a single cloud to spoil it, and the sun hot on my cheeks. Dew, it must be great to be allowed to go to Heaven, I said. It’s strange that I can’t see Heaven from here or see an angel flying somewhere over there. That must be the underneath side of Heaven’s floor and the floor on the other side must be blue too. Dew, it must have needed a lot of blue colour to make it all. Much more than Mam uses on washing day.

  I couldn’t understand where I was when I woke up, with pins and needles all through my arms after going to sleep with my hands behind my neck. There were clouds in the sky when I woke up and I felt a bit cold. I’d better go over to the others now, I said, taking hold of my pitcher and getting up. Hey, they were all over there but now there’s no sign of any of them. What will I do, now? I said, beginning to get frightened. I started to make my way through the bilberry bushes but I just couldn’t find the sheep track and I couldn’t see anybody anywhere.

  Dew, you would have been scared if you’d been me. Walking for miles, seeing nothing but bilberry bushes everywhere and the air like a sea swirling all around me. My heart was beating like a drum and I started running and then I stumbled on a rock or something and fell into the middle of a bilberry bush and lost my pitcher. I was too frightened to get up for ages afterwards and I was shaking like a leaf.

  And then I thought about Huw. Maybe he’s lost as well, I said. And that made me get up and start walking about very slowly and looking everywhere to see if I could see anyone. But I couldn’t see anything except bilberry bushes and the sky, and I was frightened of shouting or whistling cos it was all so quiet.

  Then I carried on very slowly not looking at anything except the ground to see if I could see the sheep track. Dew, I was glad when I found it right in the middle of the bilberry bushes.

  But I just couldn’t find the way to go. This is the way back, I said. Then no, it’s this way. And I stood like that for ages, trying to make my mind up. In the end, I held my hand out and spat on it then gave the spit a slap with my finger. The spit went to the right. That way, I said, and started to hurry along the sheep track.

  After I’d been walking for ages, the sheep track began to go downhill. Those are the hills we climbed, they must be, I said.

  What will Mam say about me losing the pitcher? I’ve got one piece of bread and butter left, I can eat that when I get down to the next hillock. Where’s my tuck box? Damn, I’ve left that in that bilberry bush too. I haven’t got any bread and butter now. Dew, I’m thirsty. It’s a pity I didn’t bring a bottle of milk to drink like Nell Fair View and Kate White Houses. Where are they now, I wonder? Back at home, no doubt, with pitchers full to the brim with bilberries. Dew, that Mary Plums is good at picking bilberries. Did you see her picking them with two hands at once, kneeling in the bilberry bushes with her pitcher there by her knees, and she didn’t lift her head up once to look round until it was time to eat our bread and butter. Dew, that bread and butter would be nice now. Maybe I’ll catch them up when I get to the top of the next hillock down there. I hope old Huw’s with them and he hasn’t got lost like me. Dew, my mouth’s dry, just like Em, Little Owen the Coal’s Brother, when he was lying on the sofa. A cup of tea would be nice now.

  I was talking to myself like that all the time as I walked down the sheep track until I came to the top of the next little hill hoping that I’d see Huw and the others going down ahead of me. I nearly had a fit when I got to the top of the hill. What did I see instead of Huw and the women ahead but Post Lane still far below and a lot of rocks to one side of it and a big lake without any sun on it on the other side. That’s Black Lake, it must be, I said, and I knew then that I should have gone the other way and that the spit had lied to me. I’ll never believe what Moi said, about spitting on your hand if you’ve lost your way, ever again. Good job I don’t want to spit on my hand now, I wouldn’t have enough spit in my mouth to do it. Dew, I’m thirsty.

  I thought for a minute that I’d better go back the other way along the sheep track, but when I turned my head to look, I didn’t see anything behind me but the hill going right up to the sky. But this path is bound to go down to Post Lane, I said, and I’ll be okay once I get to Post Lane.

  It was getting much warmer down here too and the sun had come back onto Post Lane, although it hadn’t reached up the mountainside to the spot where I was or to Black Lake. But I didn’t expect to see it there cos that’s what Ellis Evans Next Door told me the morning after they’d found Emyr. The sun never shines on Black Lake, he said, that’s why they call it Black Lake, you see. Mam will have a fit when I tell her I’ve been near Black Lake. Hurry up, or you never will be near it, I said, and down the hill I went as fast as I could.

  There was a farm by the side of Black Lake on the flat bit before you came to Post Lane. I’ll go and ask if I can have a drink of water, I said. Maybe I’ll get a drink of milk and water mixed from them cos I’m nearly dying of thirst.

  I stood by the gate for ages, scared to go
to the door cos there was a dog barking in the back somewhere. I was about to risk opening the gate when a lady came to the door. She had a kind face with blue eyes, white hair and rosy cheeks. I was just starting to open the gate.

  What do you want, my boy? she said.

  A drink, please. I’m nearly choking, I said.

  Good Lord, you do look tired, come here and have a glass of buttermilk. Would you like some bread and butter with it?

  Yes, please, I said, and went through the gate and stood by the door and she was talking to me from the kitchen.

  I’ve been picking bilberries on Pen y Foel and I lost my pitcher and my tuck box and I lost my way and came down to here, I said.

  You poor little thing, said someone else in the kitchen.

  There you are, you drink this and eat this bread and butter. You’ll be fine afterwards. Sit here. Where do you come from?

  From the Village.

  You’ve got a long way to go on Post Lane.

  Thanks very much, I said, taking the big piece of buttered bread and the big glass of milk and going to sit on the slate seat under the window. I’ll be fit to walk miles after this.

  Then while I was busy drinking, who should come zooming round the end of the house but the dog who I’d heard barking in the back. Leave the little boy alone, Toss, said someone from the kitchen and Toss stopped dead when he saw me sitting on the slate seat. He was a big sheepdog with eyes the same colour as glass eyes. He growled a little bit to start with and I was frightened that he was going to bite me. So I made a sort of kissing sound with my mouth.

  Come on then, Toss, I said, and when he heard me say his name he wagged his tail and opened his mouth and let his tongue dangle out the way dogs do when they’re laughing.

  Come on then, Toss, I said again, and broke off a piece of my bread and put it beside me on the slate seat. Then he came up very slowly, wagging his tail and took the piece of bread from the seat. When I broke off another bit for him, he took that from my hand and then put his front feet on my knees and began licking my face. We were great friends in no time and after we’d finished eating the bread and butter, we played throw the stone in the field for a while. Then I took the empty glass back to the house and knocked at the door, and Toss ran inside to the kitchen.