by Dean Jones
“It’s so pretty Daddy, what is it?” she asked.
“It’s a bangle sweetheart, your grandfather made it for my mother from a copper plate he bought in Tamworth. The glass bead he got from somewhere in Wiltshire before I was born.”
Seth took the bangle from his wife and placed it in the palm of his hand. The jewellery looked tiny in his huge hand.
“I had forgotten how tiny her wrists were, she wasn’t a tall woman, probably a few inches smaller than you love,” he said looking at his wife.
“But she made up for her size with her determination…she could stare down the largest men in our village without blinking,” a smile crept over his lips as the memories filled his mind.
“Of course, there were none larger than my father, but she handled him in much the same way…they taught me all about love you know?” he said absently.
“They truly loved each other right up to the end…my father wouldn’t abandon her even in the face of the mob who…” he stopped, suddenly aware of what he was saying and of the tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt and sniffed, “anyway, they were wonderful, and I miss them very much.”
Hope placed her hand on her dad’s cheek and looked into his eyes. “I wish I could’ve met them, Daddy, I think I would’ve loved them too…” she spoke softly, and Seth could see a glimmer of understanding in this little girl’s eyes.
“I’m certain they would’ve adored you as much as me and your mummy do darling,” he said before kissing her forehead and giving her the bangle.
Hope raised the trinket to her lips and whispered, “I love you,” to it before placing it back in the hole and burying it again.
“Why are you burying it again sweat pea, do you not want to keep it?”
“Grandma would like it to stay here as a memory I think.” She said. As she finished she placed her hand on the earth and thought of flowers she’d like to have placed there. “We should put flowers here Daddy,” she said as she turned her head to look at Seth.
Beneath her hand, a small shoot appeared and as she moved her hand away they all stared at the beautiful forget-me-not which now grew on the earth where the bangle was buried.
Seth looked at Marcy who was looking right back at him and they both knew exactly what this meant.
Interview with The Devil
Seth walked into the Englishman’s Castle Cafe and looked around for Nicola, the journalist who had been badgering him for an interview for months now.
The cafe was busy, as he had expected on a Friday lunchtime, that's why he'd ask to meet here at this time.
People, lots of people kept his mind clear, there was less chance of people sneaking around or causing trouble when there was a crowd.
Seth spotted Nicola sat near the back of the cafe, she was ingrained in his mind, she had become a constant thorn in their side and had been writing stories about them in every local and national paper. This had baffled Seth as he wasn’t clear on why the stories were being printed as they contained no facts and generally retold the same stories repeatedly.
Somehow, he needed to get this woman off his back and perhaps he could stop having to move his family from town to town to escape the attention of her and others who appeared to turn up with her. Especially the madman who seemed hell bent of getting his hands on Seth for no clear reason.
The cafe was a good cafe; he had eaten here with Marcy and Hope the previous year during a trip. He knew it was the place to do this.
He took the chair opposite the red-haired journalist, she was in her brown mac, which she never seemed to be without and was already scribbling.
This meeting had to go right, he knew the type of woman he was speaking to, but he had to trust what he was doing was for the best.
"Ah, Mr Goodman it's nice to get the opportunity to speak with you at last."
Seth had chosen the surname 'Goodman' as he'd once fought alongside a man called Stanley Goodman in the Great War and he had told him his surname reminded him who he was whilst doing his duty on the battlefield...he was a good man and he was only fighting because he felt he was doing the right thing for his King and country.
Seth took a breath and composed himself, he'd gone through what he wanted to say before arriving, he'd had rehearsals of the types of questions he'd be asked and had prepared answers. Keep on the right path, he thought, and it'll work out fine.
"Seth, you don't mind me calling you Seth, do you? I find the formality of Mr Goodman to be unnecessary in these circumstances. Don’t you?" Seth smiled and nodded his agreement.
"Now, where should we start…? You are an interesting man who seems to have provoked somewhat of a public outcry in some...” Nicola watched the man in front of her from behind her glasses, she'd told him he'd have an opportunity to put his side of the story across but this was an opportunity for her to get a great story and another front page, she had to play nicely at first, gentle questions to get things going, she thought.
One or two easy questions then start to hit him with the juicy ones. She knew Corey would be very interested in this meeting, but she hadn’t mentioned it to him as she wanted to get the facts or at least speak to the man she’d been flushing out for all these months.
"How about you tell me a little about yourself...some background for my readers if you like?" She asked.
Seth sensed her holding back and could see she was trying to soften him up but isn't that the way you played the game. If this is what she wanted, he'd play for a while...at least.
"I'm not sure there's much to tell, I'm a quiet family man who seems to have found himself in the centre of something I can't get out of."
Quiet man indeed! Nicola thought.
"No need to be modest Seth, you have accomplished quite a lot for just a quiet family man, there are those who claim you to be a demon no less!" Well, softly, softly was never my best approach anyway she thought.
"There are those who claim you are directly responsible for certain events which have occurred over the years which seem to lack reasonable explanation?"
Seth shifted in his chair, he knew this would come up, especially following the latest stories relating to the man called Brian who was convinced Seth had killed his family. It seemed, due to his Catholic upbringing, he had jumped to the illogical conclusion Seth was indeed an entity of the devil.
“I am unsure how I can be responsible for all the situations where people have somehow fallen on hard times or have suffered accidents which were just…accidents. I have no more power over anything than you do or those sat over there,” he pointed at a group on builders eating their cooked breakfasts and chatting amiably about football.
Nicola agreed, but this didn’t create the story, people believed he was the cause and perhaps she had generated a little of the belief herself, but she needed more, and denial and logical arguments weren’t the responses she needed.
"Interesting, so how do you explain the fact several people have named you directly for their misfortunes, I suppose you will cite coincidence or mistaken identity?”
She stared intently at the man opposite her and the question which drove her still burned inside her head, who is Seth Goodman? She had looked very hard to find anything about him but no matter how deep she dug or whose pocket she filled there was nothing substantial about him, nothing at all in fact which was why she wanted to get him. Nicola didn't like people who didn't appear to exist. Those who avoided the bureaucracy and red tape, in her opinion, were the ones who had the most to hide.
Seth shrugged his shoulders, "I couldn’t possibly answer that question as I don’t know why they named me, perhaps they saw your lies in the papers and decided to cash in?” a little jibe couldn’t hurt, he thought, especially since all she is doing is trying to get a rise from me.
Nicola bit her lip and gave a nod, “maybe but as you say neither of us can speak for those who have made these accusations but there is no smoke without fire Seth.” He was hiding something,
she knew it and she intended to get it out if him else she'd just have to read between the words he used to get the truth she wanted.
Seth took a deep breath; this was going to be difficult.
“OK let’s talk about you…you have a wife…” she looked at her notepad though she didn’t need the reminder, “named Marcy and a daughter called Hope?” she smiled politely, time to try switching things up a bit.
“I do.” He confirmed.
“Any other family, parents, uncles, brothers or sisters?”
“No, there’s just us, my wife’s family live in Devon and we try to visit as much as we can.”
“What about you?” Nicola asked.
“My family are all dead. Unfortunately, they never got the chance to meet Marcy or Hope” Seth said solemnly.
"What did you say your father was called again?"
She needed more if she was going to find out who he was, and his father’s name would be a good step in the right direction.
"I didn't say." Seth wasn't prepared to give any information about his past, this interview was going to go his way...if he could help it.
"That’s right, you didn't..." Nicola let the statement hang for a second or two, who is this man?
"I understand you have had people asking you to heal them from illness, it seems there are those who seem to have a great deal of faith in you...how does that make you feel?"
Seth shook his head, there were fools around and he couldn't do anything about that but to start openly healing folk brought the wrong kind of attention, but it seemed not healing brought a similar attention.
"That’s one of the strangest consequences of your stories, you have worked hard to paint me as some kind of mysterious bad guy and written hundreds of words about the people who believe I am evil. Yet there are those who see the opposite of what you want them to and on occasion, these folks have spotted me and, yes asked if I could help them with their ailments or change certain aspects of their lives. I suppose some people just want something to believe in, something to hold up above their own lives to give them something to reach for. I don't encourage those people or that kind of talk but there's nothing I can do to stop talk from taking place it seems."
Seth could feel his heart start to speed up, he had to control himself for just a few more minutes and then he could return to Marcy and Hope.
"But surely you could try to heal them, prove to them you have no power and that would stop the rumours and gossips instantly...or do you secretly enjoy the attention?"
Seth stifled a growl. If she only knew how much he wanted to help these people. How much he wanted to show them what the world around them could provide if only you knew how to listen and see where the wrongs were, so you could put them right.
That's all he did, he saw where the energy was wrong, and he willed it to be right again. But these days there was more wrong in the world than right and every day he saw the blackness grow around him. He couldn't remember when he'd given up trying to make it right, to stop fighting the darkness which surrounded him, but he had and now he wanted to do something to give others the power to fight back themselves.
"Have I struck a nerve?" Nicola scribbled some quick notations on her pad, she was firming an image in her notes of someone who was clearly delusional and had a God complex. People would love that, in fact, she might get a few pieces out of this, perhaps serialise it.
“I was just thinking, when you do a good deed for someone how it becomes twisted and misinterpreted,” he began, “I have been around for a while, I ran my own farm before I met Marcy and picked up a bit of know-how around how to fix cuts and bruises and then I help someone and the next thing I know is there’s a story, written by you, telling the locals how what I did is somehow unexplained…it’s madness.”
Nicola wrote a few more squiggles on her notepad. He wasn’t the country bumpkin she’d expected.
"Let’s go back to those people who blame you for the misfortune in their lives,” keep him guessing, she thought.
“Of course, there are still those who find fault in governments or whichever God they believe in but there are a small number of people putting your appearance in the area, and the strange things which seem to follow you, at the heart of any blame. There are those who feel you are some sort of Satanist you know... Especially since those boys..."
Seth smiled, he knew it was coming, after all, it’s the story she wrote about the most.
“Those boys?” he asked innocently “I don’t know who you are referring to?”
“Oh, I think you know who I am talking about, the ones you left so terrified they refused to talk about the incident for years, one even drifted off to the point where he needed to be hospitalised for his own safety.”
Seth could see the gleam in Nicolas’s eyes; he'd done his research on the woman before he'd agreed to the interview. Marcy had been cautious about him doing this, but he could sit back no longer and watch the life he had waited for be torn apart without doing something about it.
Nicola was, at best, a gutter journalist who had carved a career for herself writing about the celebrities of the day, digging up their dark secrets and selling them to the highest bidder. It didn't matter to her whether there was any truth in what she wrote, it was all good for her image and her ambition silenced her conscience. Lately, she had become a regular contributor to many of the big name newspapers, how she had managed this was a mystery as the stories were always conjecture or so fantastical no one with half a mind should believe them.
The regularity of her stories had been like Chinese water torture and people had slowly started to believe the nonsense she wrote, after all, if it wasn’t true how was it getting in the papers.
Yes, Seth had known what he was getting into, he knew she wouldn't be able to resist his story and he only hoped he could bring out the human compassion in her to report what he said, it was a risk but he needed her and her ability to get a story on the front page of the big tabloids. He needed to reach as many people as he could, the risk was worth it in his eyes.
"Tell me what happened to the boys Seth…in Devon?
“I don’t understand how this is relevant, the story you dug up was about three youths who got drunk on a trip out and by all accounts became lost and confused. I struggle to understand how I am connected other than I visited the location with Marcy?”
Nicolas pen scribbled some more illegible symbols which Seth knew were answers she had gotten from his words, not necessarily the ones he'd given, the ones she heard.
"Can you tell me what happened during your altercation, after all this is why I am here!" A slight grin lifted the corners of her mouth and Seth knew the risk wasn't going to pay off, she saw an angle and whatever he said wasn't going to alter her story. He let out a sigh, more in resignation than anything else.
Nicola knew she had him, this man who had brutally beaten three teenagers and left them for dead, by all the accounts she had gathered. Granted she had only got the word of Gary (who was currently undergoing psychiatric treatments for god knows what) but rumour travelled faster than fact and where there was suspicion there was a story for her to drag out.
Seth thought back to the day when they had been set upon by Gary and his mates, it wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but they did ask for it and after all, they weren’t seriously hurt he just made certain they wouldn’t try the same with any other… less protected women.
As he remembered, the feelings of anger built up inside him again and he took a deep breath to control himself.
“From what I understand you left the boys for dead…”
"Left for Dead? They were…” Seth was brought out of his reverie by the question which caught him off guard, but it was too late.
“You do remember?” she smiled broadly, she had him.
Seth sighed in resignation “The boys you speak of attacked us whilst we were having a picnic, they chose their fate and I will not apologise for their suffering. I had to defend myself an
d Marcy…they were going to…anyway, I came away more hurt then they did and to be honest I am glad they choose us and not some other couple!"
Seth struggled to contain his rage remembering the day when it had happened.
"I have heard a different version of events, from reliable sources, which say the men were trying to aid your wife, she was distressed and they were concerned she had been harmed...and then you appeared, and they believed you were the cause of her distress.... you were quite angry, in fact I can see you growing angry thinking of it.”
She hadn’t heard anything of the sort, but she was on a roll and the kill was close.
Seth shifted unconsciously he wanted to scream at the woman, how dare she infer he had hurt his wife! He knew to keep his words to himself; she was digging for a reaction... Yes, this was a bad idea!
"Do you often lose your temper, Seth, should I be fearful for my safety?" More scribbles in her pad and all Seth could do was to shake his head whilst he tried to think of a way to get her to see what had happened.
"And if I spoke to your wife, Marcy, would she tell the same story, or would she have another version, one which backs up what those poor souls you attacked have said?"
That smile again!
"Marcy will tell you exactly what I've told you!" he couldn't keep the anger from his voice. He'd waited too long for his wife to return, he wouldn't see a hair on her head harmed even if it meant his own sacrifice!
"I see... you've told her what to say? Perhaps if I could talk to her alone just to confirm your account of the day? Or is she too afraid of what you would do to be completely honest with me?"
There, she could see the rage in his eyes and knew she had him on the brink and it was good. Nicola had always used this technique to get the answers she wanted. Lull them in and then find a weakness, something they hold dear and try to break them by exposing them to a falsehood they couldn't bear to face.
She knew by the way he spoke about his wife he loved her deeply and she also believed what he said was probably the truth of it after all Gary had admitted it during their chat. She could see the events in her mind, three men attacking a woman he loved so deeply he lost control and defended her. He was probably the type to fight to the death for his family but that didn't matter to her. Family loyalty and bravery didn't sell papers these days; punters wanted sex, scandal and danger or even better, all three.