Pagewalker

by C. Mahood

  I was once more back in my bedroom. The smell of sweaty feet, dirty crusty laundry and cheap, budget after-shave filled my nostrils. It made me gag. I had just been breathing the cleanest air I ever had. Air that was breathed by no man before. The Northland air was like a drug I needed. I longed for it for so long. It was so fresh, sweet and crisp, but I was not to inhale that again for a very long time.

  Days passed as I searched for the missing pages of my book. I had thrown most of it out the window. The only part I managed to piece together was the prologue. The rest was gone. I searched and searched my garden and the gardens around me but to no avail.

  I tried every day without fail, in vain, to hold those pages and concentrate. This is what the little man with the green eyes had been about to show me years before. How to transport myself into the pages. To visit lands I had read about. Why was it always my luck? Every time something good could happen, the opposite was always the outcome!

  Eventually I gave up. I was done with trying.

  As time slipped on, I became less and less interested, and convinced myself it was exhaustion and shock from my accident that day. It was a dream I had when I passed out. I convinced myself that I had made up the little man in the woods so that I wouldn’t have felt bad for knocking myself out by falling in a hole. I convinced myself so sure of these things. I stopped reading books, stopped studying history. My interests moved towards girls, alcohol, weed and music. I was consumed by my love of rock, metal and alternative music, fantasy and history became just that. History.

  At least so I thought, if I have learnt anything, it is that history is never left in the past.

  Four

  Back to bite me

  Years passed by, “Life happened” as they say. School ended, friends came and went. Experiences were had, memories made, love came and hearts broke. My love of music and arts never faltered however, it led me to a career of music tuition and playing in several bands. I worked a few summers abroad but in the end decided to `settle down’ In Ireland. It was an easy choice really as I had found the love of my life, who soon became my beautiful wife. We adopted two cats and a dog. Perfect. Life was just great! I couldn’t complain. Sarah lit up my life, in every way. Our cats, Yoshi and Springsteen (because he is the boss) were full of energy and entertainment and they were as cute as hell. My dog was my child. An amazing border collie called Tessa. She had become my best friend over the years before I met Sarah. She had been there through so many break ups, troubles, episodes and countless awkward situations. She always looked at me with big brown eyes and reminded me always that life was to be enjoyed. If it got to serious just follow her lead. Eat, poop and fall asleep….that’s the life! I truly believe that if humans loved each other with the love dogs give us, the world would be a peaceful and love filled place!

  It was only when we decided to go somewhere new on our walk that things started to change. Usually we walked at Londonderry Park, following the path and playing fetch in the football fields, the tide bank pathway beside the sea where she chased seagulls and pigeons, or Scrabo tower in Newtownards. All beautiful places in their own right, but one day we decided to walk up the old lead mines.

  I had never taken Sarah there before and was excited to give her a tour of where we used to play as children. We walked miles that day; I explained how we used to play Viking and Celts games. Showed her where we built tree houses. Even where they had filmed some scenes for a famous TV show based on a collection of fantasy books that year! On our way back we lost sight of Tessa. She had caught sight of a rat or squirrel or something and shot of into the gorge bushes! At one point we saw a black and white bush tail and then nothing but the sound of rustling getting farther away. Usually she is very obedient and returns when called (like me when called by my wife) but today she was nowhere to be found. If you have ever owned a dog or a cat, and it has gone missing for longer than usual, you know that feeling. The feeling of dread, fear, loss. The worst case scenarios start playing through your mind like cheap, late-night B-Movies.

  We whistled for a while, retracing our steps, throwing sticks, hoping she sees them and appears out of the bushes. Finally we heard a bark down the path towards the car park. Again, all dog owners are like parents, you always know the sound of your own. As we approached we saw Tessa on her hind legs, two paws stretched up on a lonely beech tree and barking up into the branches.

  Sarah ran and put the lead back onto her collar. I loved that leash; it was a thick silver chain, the kind you would see on a Doberman or pit bull. A real Gangster looking lead, it just made me laugh when it was attached to the collar of the most feminine looking Border collie.

  Sarah pulled Tessa away as she continued to bark at the tree. It was mid-winter so there were very few leaves left on the branches but some golden ones still persisted and held on tight. I could see up and there was nothing in the tree at all. I walked around to inspect, just in case a cat had scampered up in chase from my dog, but there was no cat, there was nothing. I ran my hands up the side of the tree. The bark was dry, despite the recent shower. It was strange, the trees surrounding it all had been soaked, but this one remained dry and smooth. I felt the smooth bark under my fingers and I reached up. I had noticed a small white triangle wedged into the groove from where the trunk had broken into two separate parts. I reached up as far as I could, my whole body outstretched, on my toes I could just grasp the very corner with the tips of my fingers.

  I wiggled the white triangle, which felt like paper or thin card. After a few attempts I managed to wiggle it loose.

  “What is it?” Enquired my wife,

  -“I’m not sure love; I think it’s just some paper folded up?”

  -“Well open it! What would you do if it were a lottery ticket or something? Imagine that? There’s a story for you!”

  I laughed, we often joked about winning the lottery but we rarely bought a ticket, we left it up to fate. I unfolded the tight paper and it finally unrolled into a piece of A4 paper. In it was written the word `one.’

  My jaw fell open and a cold sweat appeared on my brow. I felt my legs once again feel light and my chest feel heavy, forcing me to the ground.

  “What is it babe? Are you ok?” Sarah asked, concerned as her husband knelt on the dirt path. I couldn’t speak, my mouth had dried up and I simply handed her the page. It read;

  Dertrid’s Deed

  By Christopher Mahood aged 15

  I couldn’t believe it. How was it possible? I had thrown that away years ago. It would have been wrecked; ink would have run in the rain, unless someone had found it?

  “What the hell Chris? Is this you trying to wind me up?” Sarah jokingly tossed the page back to me “it’s not very funny well!”

  “I swear love, I have no idea how the hell that got there, and I am seriously freaked out!” I made my way to my feet again, picking the page up on my way. “Remember I told you I wanted to be a writer? Well I started a book when I was like 15, this is the first page, I swear to God I’m not joking.”

  “Really? No way…. bull! Ya big lying bugger!”

  “Swear on my life babe, that’s friggin mental!” I laughed. I folded the page into my coat pocket, grabbed Sarah’s hand with my left and Tessa’s lead with my right. We made our way back to the car and I told her the story of why I started the book, the writing competition and when I threw the book out the bedroom window in anger, just because I hadn’t made it to the competition!

  I chose to leave out the parts of the green eyed man saving my life and the experience I had, or thought I had, or dreamt, about Northland. Something in her eye though, I could see that she knew, at least, she knew I was leaving something out and was holding back.

  Again time flew past. Weeks like a clock’s tick. It was October the following year. Sarah and I were out for a beautiful meal at my favourite restaurant. A little Italian place with gnocchi to die for!

  During the meal, Sarah reached into her bag, which is a magic of its very own. A bottomle
ss pit of lip gloss, diary’s, purses, umbrellas, scarf’s, all manner of make-up, keys and hair clips. Somehow she pulled this large square box present. All wrapped in suitable `little princess’ wrapping paper.

  “Awk love, you didn’t have to, honestly….. but glad you did” I said with a wink.

  “Shut up you big charmer, open it. Go on!”

  “Ok, but, it better not be embarrassing, the tables are pretty close in here, and I mean I can smell yer man next to me” I said with a whisper. The mad sitting literally inches away from me looked over and started down his beak like nose at me in a disgusted, yet embarrassed manner. Then shifted his chair slightly to the left, away from me. We giggled at that.

  “I’m sure he can hear you too love!” Sarah laughed in a whispered giggle.

  I opened the wrapping paper at the edges, stripping of the sellotape carefully, ensuring I did not rip the paper. Sarah hated this, she was a ripper, and I was a folder. I peeled back the wrapping and pulled out the prize. It was a book; I guessed that easily, the pages sort of gave it away you know? The book felt great, that nice padded hardback kind. Turning the book over in my hands I Knew what it was, but I could not believe it.

  In my hands was a hard back version of Dertrid’s Deed. Impossible!

  I flicked through the pages, inside were my sketches, the map I drew, the entire story that I had written and lost! For the longest time I stared and flicked, I hadn’t even noticed our dessert arrive. I was so in awe, this was the greatest gift I had ever received. Sarah was, and still is, the queen of presents, be it birthday, anniversary or Christmas, she always wins. Be it Foo Fighter tickets, holidays, comics whatever. They are a pale reflection on this gift.

  “How you….where did did……but I thought….Jesus!” was all I managed to choke out. Sarah smiled with a mouth full of pudding; just a slight wink she gave let me know, she knew, this was the best gift. I could see she was waiting for me to cry, and I was close.

  “I’m not gona cry love; people will think we’ve broken up.”

  “Yea yea, sure save the waterworks for the car then eh?”

  “Aye, we can do that.” I said leaning in over the table to kiss my wonderful wife.

  “Thank you, I really love you wee girl” I said, with only a small tear welling under my eye.

  “I know, I’m awesome” she replied kissing me again. “Now eat your dessert. I hate to see food go to waste.”

  That evening was amazing. The gift was so thoughtful. On probing further I learnt she had asked my mum about it and mum had apparently found a copy in my room years ago. She kept it and always meant to give it to me but always forgot. It was on a floppy drive. So Sarah had to print it out and edit it herself behind my back. She only changed a few words here and there. Helped the story make sense a bit better.

  That evening we were in bed and I was flicking through the book. My eyes were heavy and I was slowly slipping into the land of nod.

  “Here, love?” Sarah whispered, “Do you mind if I have a wee look? Haven’t really looked at it properly since it arrived?”

  “Yea babe, go on ahead” I mumbled as I turned my back, sank into the mattress, pulled the duvet tight and drifted off.

  “Love you” she said

  “Love you” I mumbled sleepily.

  When I awoke, the lamp on the bedside table was still turned on. I rolled over to her side of the bed. It was cold. Her phone still charging and her slippers still by the side of the bed.

  I guessed that she got up in the night because she couldn’t sleep. Sometimes she goes downstairs, puts on Netflix of reads down there with the animals so as not to disturb me. The fact that her slippers were here still confused, even more so was that she did not have her phone with her. The girl is a walking Selfie. Photographing and tweeting everything. There is no way she wouldn’t have it with her. My heart began to beat faster.

  I got out of bed and wrapped my robe around me. I called out as I made my way downstairs. I heard only the sound of Tessa’s paws clicking on the wooden floor. The excited skip she does before I open the door to the living room. Normally, if Sarah was there, she would hush her, but no sound came. I opened the door letting Tessa jump up to greet me by licking my hands and making that whistling sound dogs make with their nose when excited. I walked over to the fireplace, Sarah leaves her car keys there when she gets in from work. They were still there. Looking out the window, so was her wee black car . I started to get that cold sweat. The fear and panic had well and truly set in. I ran up the stairs and grabbed the first clothes that were on the floor, old black jeans, a Jim beam t-shirt and a black hoodie. I slipped my feet into my trainers and grabbed my phone, before turning to run out the door. Just as I was turning out the lamps I noticed something from the corner of my eye. My eyes showed me it in perfect detail by my brain could not understand. It was not possible. The book that Sarah was reading was open in the middle. The section of my sketches and drawings. I had drawn the sizes of the races of Northland and some concept ideas for the towns and cities. The picture in the bottom right hand corner, the sketch of the town of Aondor showed a small town with a stone bridge, a mill wheel further down the stream connected to a stone wall that lead up into the hills and fields. I had not drawn any people but there was one in my sketch. A tall woman, blonde hair, a tattoo on her back and a face that I loved. In my book, my drawings, ones I had done over ten years ago. There stood the woman I loved, looking out into the pages, as clear as day.

  There was my wife.

  Sarah was in Northland

  Five

  It's all changed

  I stared at the book with my eyes wider than whirlpools and my mouth open chin to chest. I tried to shout, no sound came. I had that stale, Sahara dry, metallic taste in my sticky mouth. My throat was painful with a crusty tongue scraping, as I tried to swallow. Sore mouth and gums, you know like when you first wake up after a long day of travelling in an air conditioned and pressurised aeroplane?

  I could not believe this. How the hell was this happening? I was staring at my wife. Like, her exact image in the book, I just could not get my head around what happened. I tried concentrating, looking, calling and even crying over the pages. Nothing worked; nothing that I could do would get me there. I was embarrassed at myself and annoyed. For all these years I had convinced myself that it was all my imagination. That I had never even set foot in Northland. Remembering that time I threw the pages, how had I done it? I hadn’t tried, I just wanted rid of it. Back then those pages were a reminder of my failure, I didn’t want that in my life, school was hard enough. Now however, it’s the opposite, I want those pages to have that magic again, more than anything. This house already felt lonely without her. The bedroom felt wrong. I couldn’t smell her sweet smell. There were still some of her long blonde hairs on the pillow. Her clothes from that day lay on the floor. Her wedding ring still hung on the little gold cat figure beside the clock. It was a present given to her by my mum. Silly little thing but the tail of the cat was long and pointed up allowing you to hang jewellery on it.

  I just gazed at it, mesmerized and haunted by memories. The feeling in that moment initially was loss, like my mind was telling me to grieve for her death but my heart knew better. It is where hope comes from, an unexplainable feeling where I just knew Sarah was alive. I had to find her.

  I threw my clothes on, Again the first thing that came to hand. My Soundgarden t-shirt, a pair of straight leg, black jeans and my black and grey trainers. I grabbed my double length black snood and wrapped myself in my army green jacket. Not one of those stupid furry hooded ones, that ‘pillock’ mods wore on their Vespas, but as green double length jacked with a Black label society patch sewn on the arm and two Zombie pin badges on the front. I grabbed my black messenger bag and in it I packed some of Sarah clothes, a hoodie, and pair of jeans, flat shoes, socks and underwear. If she had transported to Northland in her pyjamas then she would surely be cold. In the sketch still lying on the bed she was barefoot and wear
ing the pink pyjamas she wore in the winter.

  There was really only one place I could go for help. It wasn’t the police or emergency services, it wasn’t my family or friends, it wasn’t the church but it was in fact, a hole in the ground in a forest three miles from my mum’s house. Look, I know, saying it out loud or even writing it down it seems so stupid, but remember when I said my heart just knew? Well it just knew I had to go to see the little green eyed man.

  I grabbed my car keys, checked the doors and windows were locked, put cat food in the bowls, opened the front door and whistled for Tessa. Yes, of course I brought the dog! Going for a walk in the woods without her is just as waste!

  We drove pretty fast through the town. Tessa sat in the front seat. Ears perked up as she watched the traffic and people go past in a blur as we sped up the mountain road towards my mum’s. The drive was pretty heart racing. Most of it was done at a steady 70mph, screaming in third gear the whole way. Tessa recognised the road, she was dancing on the seat now, fur and dog hair in the air like a smog, every time she moved. It was winter, she sheds. We passed the turn off for mum’s house and headed up towards to fields. Tessa stared at me and back out the rear window, a look of puzzlement on her face. Usually when we went to mum’s house she got treats and played fetch in the garden. When she turned forward again and noticed the dirt and green of the fields she knew all was not lost and began the on-the-spot dance and circling the passenger seat excitedly, licking the window and making that little excited sound only dogs can make.