by David Pinner
After dragging his coat sleeve across his tear-stained eyelashes, unsteadily Jimmy levered himself to his feet, and he headed away from the tree-stump. He looked around him, trying to assess where he was in the wood. Eventually he spotted a moon-silvered glade in the near distance, and he moved under the trees towards the clearing.
When he reached the glade, suddenly he cocked his head to the right. He could hear the plaintive voice calling to him from another part of the wood. It was the same voice that he’d heard when he was berating Lulu in her cottage. As he continued to listen, the voice seemed to fade. It was replaced by the whooping of a predatory owl on the far side of the wood.
Then from behind him, and only some hundred yards away, there was the sound of twigs cracking underfoot. Jimmy whirled round to face what he believed to be an intruder. Intently he peered between the night-shadowed trees. However, there was no sign of anyone, although his senses told him that he was still being watched.
Cautiously the farmer made his way through some leprous-looking toadstools in the direction of the snapped twigs. Again he stopped because he heard the same tremulous voice on his right. Now it seemed to be calling to him in distress. Agitatedly he hurried off in pursuit of the voice, urging his feet through the mist-soaked bracken. As he trampled over more toadstools, his progress was aided by the intermittent moonlight. Then there was the unmistakable sound of more twigs snapping, and as he was certain that he was being followed, he stopped again.
Momentarily he thought of charging off to discover who, or what, was cracking the twigs, but the insistence of the voice, which was coming from the right side of the wood, dissuaded him. Shaking his head wearily, Jimmy kicked his way onwards through snaring brambles.
After ducking under more prickly branches, and removing several thorns from the backs of his hands, Jimmy lunged forwards again, determined to discover where the voice was coming from. And even though he knew that his pursuer was still following him, he didn’t care. The accusatory voice was like a siren in his ears, so it took precedence over everything.
He was now very close to the voice’s source. After slashing his arms through some blackberry thorns, Jimmy found himself in a moonlit grove, which he recognised instantly.
Dominating the grove was the gigantic oak-tree of his nightmares. And although the voice had now gone silent, it seemed that the ancient tree was beckoning to him. Mystified, the farmer bent down to examine its gnarled roots. They reminded him of an animal’s splayed entrails. Shaking his head in disgust, he recalled finding the burnt horse’s skull, and how he had stamped on it during his last visit to the grove.
Disorientated, he stepped back onto a patch of grass that was barely a yard away from the tree’s roots. To his horror, he felt that the earth, which he was standing on, was moving under him, like it did the last time he was in the grove. As the earth continued to tremble beneath him, once again he heard the indicting voice, but now it was emanating from under his feet. Fear-stricken, he leapt backwards away from the giant oak.
He had barely recovered from the shock, when again he sensed that he was no longer alone.
Jimmy whirled around to face his pursuer.
‘It’s taken me long enough to find you in this bloody wood, Jimmy Vaughn,’ Paul shouted as he stepped into the clearing. ‘So now I’m going to give you the beating of your life for what you did to Lulu, you sadistic bastard.’
‘You and whose fucking army?’ Jimmy retorted, clenching his fists.
With a roar, Paul launched himself at his opponent. Yet despite Paul’s super-fitness, Jimmy was far too quick for him as he weaved his six-foot-three-frame adroitly to one side. Then the farmer slammed the cutting-edge of his hand down onto the back of Paul’s neck, instantly rendering the writer unconscious.
Jimmy watched his adversary slump forwards onto his knees. A moment later, Paul lay motionless among the oak’s roots.
‘I may never make love again, to my beloved Lulu,’ Jimmy murmured while he looked down at Paul’s inert figure. ‘But one thing is certain, Hopkins, neither will you. What’s more, you’ve got a bloody nerve attacking me like you did, when I saved your life, by persuading you go into Rehab,’ he rasped, turning away from his unconscious opponent. ‘Well, thank God, tomorrow is another day.’
The farmer peered through the trees in the direction of Lulu’s cottage. Almost immediately his headache returned. It was as if the inside of his skull was being squeezed in a metal vice. Then again Jimmy heard the voice emanating from beneath the grassy patch under the giant oak, where the earth had seemed to move under his feet. But now the farmer was too weary to respond to the voice’s demands.
Instead he felt compelled to look up at the moon, and instantly its lunar-light filled him with foreboding because it seemed so alien.
‘Yes… and that’s how Lulu feels about me now,’ he muttered disconsolately.
He knew there was no point in him making his way back to her cottage, and knocking on her door.
‘Why ever should she forgive me?’ he whispered.
Nodding contritely to himself, Jimmy realised that he had no choice but to make his way through the falling leaves until he was back in his Ford. As he headed off into the wood, he prayed that once he was at home again, his excruciating headache would recede, and then, hopefully, sleep would bring him a modicum of peace.
He had barely walked a hundred yards, when he stopped under a chestnut tree. Again the sepulchral voice was echoing inside his skull. Then despite being racked by his electrifying headache, for the first time Jimmy could hear the fell words that the voice was uttering; ‘Come Halloween, Jimmy, you will pay in full for your terrible crime.’
Instinctively he rubbed the back of his skull. His forefinger pressed into the small dent, which had been caused by the storm blowing the slate down onto his head twenty years ago.
‘Yet for the life of me,’ he whispered, ‘I’m still at a total loss as to what crime I have committed. Well, it’s true!’ he cried to the moon. ‘The worst thing I’ve ever done is to throw brandy into Lulu’s face.’
Then the indicting voice whispered in his inner ear; ‘That is nothing compared to the enormity of your real crime.’
Filled with foreboding, the farmer stumbled off into the tree-enshrouded mausoleum of the night.
*
While Jimmy was floundering through the beach trees towards his parked car, slowly Paul was regaining consciousness under the oak-tree.
As the writer began to recover amidst its ancient roots, in the moonless glade, ruefully Paul rubbed the bruised nape of his neck. Then he remembered glimpsing Jimmy’s knife-edged hand, which had sent him sprawling into oblivion.
Yes, but there is always tomorrow, he thought, grabbing the branch above his head, and using it to lever himself to his feet.
‘“Vengeance is mine!” saith the Lord,’ Paul exclaimed. ‘And Lulu is my destiny. So come what may, I will still make her love me,’ he said, pointing at the moon as it re-emerged from behind an army of clouds. ‘Oh, yes, I know she believes that you are her guardian,’ he jibed at the moon.
As he was crossing the oak-glade, he gestured at the star-pricked heavens.
‘But the truth is; the Lord Jesus is the Only-True-Fisher-of-men. And of women, too!’ he shouted up into the night sky. ‘And that is why Our Saviour will prevail over you in the end, Lulu.’
After ducking under some ivy-dripping boughs, he observed sardonically; ‘Besides, as my fisherman cousin once aptly remarked; “There are many different ways to skin a rainbow-carp”.’
8
The following day was Saturday, October 30th 1999, and the village children were already bubbling with anticipation; ‘‘Cause tomorrow night is Halloween, when there’ll be lots of spooky fun and games.’
However, one of the exceptions was Scarlet, who wasn’t excited at the thought of wearing a witch’s mask, or tramping around the neighbourhood with her friends, doing ‘Trick-or-Treat’. Scarlet was still traumatised b
y her frenzied participation in ‘stabbing’ Lulu with the knitting needles, and so she persuaded her best friend, Bella, to come and walk with her on the beach.
‘You see, Bella, I’ve often seen Lulu down by the sea in the afternoon. So if we do find her there, then we can tell Lulu how sorry we are for wot we did to her, can’t we?’ Scarlet confided to her friend as they clambered over several slippery rocks at the top of the beach.
Then triumphantly Scarlet pointed at the lone figure of Lulu, who was wearing a sky-blue coat and knee-high boots. At the sea’s edge, Lulu was skirting around the foam of an incoming wave. Shouting and waving, the two girls ran towards her, and instantly Lulu waved back at them.
While Scarlet and Bella were racing down to the ocean, they didn’t notice the beginnings of a dense mist that was coming towards them, on the crests of the waves. When the girls were only a hundred yards away from Lulu, they registered that she was no longer waving to them. Instead she was peering intently into a rock-pool.
‘Wot you looking for in that pool?’ Bella demanded, running up to Lulu, who was now kneeling in the sand.
‘Hope,’ Lulu murmured while she continued to focus on two wavering sea-anemones in the depths of the pool. ‘I’m always looking for hope, Bella. And for some strange reason, sea-anemones always give me hope.’
As Bella and Scarlet crouched down beside her, the girls realised that they had tears in their eyes.
‘Look, we dunno wot “hope” you’re talking about, Lulu,’ Scarlet sobbed. ‘But we still want you to know that… well, me and Bella had no idea that we were giving you all that terrible pain last night.’ Then Scarlet turned to her friend for support; ‘Well, that’s the truth, ent it, Bella?’
‘Yeah, Lulu, we’d never’ve stabbed that straw-dolly like did, if we’d known wot it was doing to you. We just wouldn’t have!’ Bella exclaimed as she reached out and clutched Lulu’s hand.
‘I know, Bella,’ Lulu smiled, leaning to her right, and clasping Scarlet’s hand as well. ‘But, you see, it wasn’t your fault, my dears, because it was Mrs Spark, who made you stab the needles into the straw-doll, wasn’t it?’
‘You’re right, Lulu. Mrs Spark told us to do it,’ Scarlet assented, knotting her brows.
‘So, girls, when you go back to the village, you must tell Tom and Alfie that I know that they didn’t mean to hurt me, either.’
‘’Course we’ll tell ‘em,’ the girls chorused.
‘Yeah, but even though Mrs Spark got us to do them dreadful things to you, Lulu, well, we hope you’ll still let us be your friends. Well, you will, won’t you?’ Scarlet begged.
Both girls gazed at Lulu with their moist, beseeching eyes.
‘Of course we will always be friends, Scarlet. And the other children will always be my friends, too. You see, sadly, you all need my help,’ Lulu whispered as she pulled the girls into her arms, and embraced them.
‘We don’t need no help, Lulu,’ Bella replied, flicking a strand of her red hair away from her nose. ‘It’s you that needs help.’
Lulu laughed and nodded.
‘Yes, of late, Bella, there does seem to be some truth in what you’re saying.’
Then Lulu pointed at the mist that was rolling towards them on the incoming tide.
‘Now, sadly, my dears, it’s time that you both went home, while you can still see your way.’
‘Are you going to your home, too, Lulu?’ Scarlet asked.
‘Very soon, dear. Alhough I am still very pleased that you both came to tell me what you felt - because now we’ll be friends forever, won’t we? But when you go Trick-or-Treating tomorrow night, my dears, I do want the two of you to be very careful,’ Lulu said as she hugged the girls again, kissing the tops of their heads.
In turn, the girls pulled Lulu’s face down to theirs, and they kissed both of her cheeks.
Then grimacing, Scarlet turned to Bella; ‘We’re not going to go Trick-or-Treating, are we, Bella?’
‘I dunno,’ Bella said, nervously rubbing her freckled chin.
‘My dears, as tomorrow night is Halloween, I’m sure you will go out together. So all I ask is… well, while you’re Trick-or-Treating, you promise me that you will watch out for each other,’ Lulu insisted, kissing them again.
In response, the girls nodded emphatically, and they gave Lulu another double-hug. Then they turned, and started to run up the sandy incline towards the ash-coloured rocks littering the top of the beach. Soon the girls were crunching over the wet pebbles, before climbing onto the path that overlooked the village. All the while Lulu continued to wave at their diminishing figures.
At the top of the path, Scarlet and Bella stopped by a hedgerow, and they waved back at Lulu, who was now swathed in mist, so they could hardly see her. To them, she seemed more like a Halloween ghost than their friend. After giving her a final wave, they raced down into Thorn Village.
By the sea’s edge, Lulu watched the girls as they disappeared from view. With the waves creaming ever closer to her feet, she headed off along the beach into the mist. She had barely gone a thousand yards when she sensed she was being followed. Shaking her head, she stopped, and she addressed the fog’s tendrils.
‘There’s no point in you shadowing me. You already know what you have to do.’
‘And what’s that?’ barked a voice.
‘I have told you the truth about yourself, and so I have helped you all I can. Now the rest is up to you.’
A splayed hand thrust its way out of the smoky wetness, followed by a muscular arm. Then the rest of Jimmy’ six-foot-three, lumbering figure materialised some ten feet away from her. He cursed as a wave slurped over the tops of his shoes, and the icy water numbed his toes.
‘It seems that even the elements are against you, Jimmy.’
‘Look, for God’s sake, Lulu, you’ve got to forgive me for that terrible thing I did to you last night,’ Jimmy pleaded, still keeping his distance, but opening his arms to her. ‘Honestly, darling, I’ll do absolutely anything you ask me to do, if you’ll just forgive me.’
Lulu stepped back fractionally, and she raised her left eyebrow.
‘No, I mean it, Lulu. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it!’
‘So you agree to do absolutely anything I ask of you?’ she demanded, with her eyes burning like firebrands.
‘Yes. Anything. Absolutely anything!’
‘Then first thing tomorrow morning, you must go to the hardware-store in Truro, and buy what you need.’
‘What the hell am I supposed to buy in a bleeding hardware-store?’ Jimmy asked querulously, shaking his head in the mist, and untying his sodden shoe.
‘Once you are inside the store, Jimmy, you will find that your subconscious will dictate to you the exact nature of your purchases.’
‘“My subconscious will dictate to me the exact nature of…”?’ he broke off, flummoxed by her reply. ‘Lulu, is this just another of your Lulu-loony-tune jokes?’
‘And after you have bought everything that you require from the hardware store, you must put the goods into a large sack. Then when you come round to my cottage tomorrow evening, make sure that you bring the sack with you.’
‘Look, are you really saying that if I don’t buy all this stuff in Truro, then I can’t come to see you tomorrow?’ he asked, after he’d finished shaking the seawater out of his shoe.
‘That’s right,’ she nodded, raising her finger in the mist. ‘Furthermore, when you appear at my cottage, it is imperative that you leave your sackfull of goods outside my front door.’
‘You’re getting nuttier and nuttier by the second, Lulu,’ he muttered, forcing his foot back into his dripping shoe, and retying his shoelace.
‘Also you must bring a small pad and a pen with you, in a plastic bag.’
‘If you insist…’
‘I do insist you do everything that I have asked you to do,’ she riposted, watching him struggle to take off his other water-logged shoe.
‘Yes,
but…’
‘There are no “buts”, Jimmy. Tomorrow you will go to Truro, and then you will follow my instructions to the letter - or you will never see me again,’ she said as she walked past him.
He ran after her, frantically waving his shoe.
‘Oh please don’t go, Lulu. I’ll do what you ask. I promise I’ll do absolutely- bloody-anything!’
She stopped, partially hidden by the cloaking mist.
‘Good,’ she said as she turned back to him. ‘And tomorrow night, once you have left your sack by my front door, and I have let you into my cottage, you must not reveal to me the nature of the contents of your sack.’
‘OK, OK, Lulu, I won’t tell you what’s in my fucking sack, ‘cause I’m sure you already know what’s going to be in it!’ he said, jabbing his numbed foot into his freezing shoe. ‘I just wish you’d give me a clue as to what the hell all this is about?’
‘When you embrace your destiny tomorrow night, you will understand everything.’
Momentarily Jimmy closed his eyes as his habitual headache electrified his skull. Then he stared at her in despair.
‘You make a very hard bargain, Lulu.’
‘In your heart of hearts, Paul, you know that what you are about to do, is long overdue.’
‘Things may still not turn out exactly as you expect,’ he warned.
‘Things never do, Jimmy,’ Lulu observed, with a weary smile. ‘It’s one of the many paradoxes of living in a violent and uncertain world.’
‘So if I do exactly as you say; in return, you promise me that you’ll really forgive me for what I did to you last night.’