Chapter 6
Following that bizarre night, I never heard a peep from Ian for a full week. I held suspicions that during that time and also when I slept Ian took leave of me, taking off to places; doing things I don’t even want to begin to imagine. Perhaps only Ian himself knows exactly what he got up to, not to mention any whys.
Settling down for the night safe in my chamber, I pondered the potential outcomes of these situations. I couldn’t help smiling, finding I genuinely missed his presence, even the peculiar resonance of his shrill, ringing voice which thoroughly enjoyed chirping up at the most inappropriate moments. As I finally admitted to myself that he really wasn’t such a bad spirit, he arrived back loudly, on fine form.
“Hey! Hey! Miss me did you? Now come on, don’t lie!” I didn’t think for a second that my lonely reminisces brought him to my side. Rather, knowing something of his nature, I deduced it was far more likely that he’d been waiting patiently to make his big entrance, in order to produce maximum effect. So I thought it best to indulge him. After all, experience has told me it nearly always pays to try and make the best of certain situations.
“Ah, ‘tis you,” I commented lazily in an unsuccessful attempt at playing down his appearance. “How terribly embarrassing! You appear to have caught me praying for your safe return!”
“Oh, very good!” Ian mused delightedly. “It seems at least a tiny number of my exceedingly knowledgeable teachings haven’t been in vain!”
“So where have you been?”
“On a treacherous journey in the depths of the cosmos, far beyond the sun!”
“Yes, how silly of me, where else?! A brief, boring and wholly uneventful holiday no doubt?”
“Not exactly, my good man. For needs must as the devil drives! For I am neither here nor there!” he stated soundly.
“How do you honestly think you are ever going to endear yourself to anyone if you keep so shamelessly ripping off other people’s material?” I laughed.
“I’d apologise in the most exquisite, deepest, most profound manner ever if I thought one day you may understand it Professor Johnson! Let’s just say I’ve been entertaining and leave it at that.”
“Ah! By entertaining I presume you mean mindlessly annoying innocent people?” I ventured. “Not necessarily. Nothing I do is mindless per se. Believe it or not; there is strict purpose to most, if not all my japes, even besides the humour factor that is often left afterwards. Though I do admit, that is sometimes one of the most rewarding bits! For instance, remember when you walked in front of that car? In the middle of town, market day? The place was packed.”
“When I walked in front of that car?!” I gasped, taken aback. “I do beg your pardon, but don’t you mean when you forced me to walk in front of it?”
“It’s not in my nature to force you to do anything against your will Sam.”
“Ah!” I said, slowly recalling the details with a little more clarity, “But you were engaged in subtly distracting me at the time weren’t you? What were you singing again?”
“The cow jumped over the moon!” he giggled playfully.
“That’s right, you were supremely confident it was possible to successfully rewrite any song or nursery rhyme you wished in a matter of minutes, and you’d prove it, or die trying! I really do wonder about you at times Ian.”
“Your memory really has reached the very pinnacle of perfection!” he agreed, letting out another of his infamous schoolboy chuckles, adding, “Though, I must confess to slipping up slightly on that one. After all, who in all of creation would be dim enough to even think to improve on such a literary classic?”
“Exactly!” I heartily agreed.
“And when you think about it, who was actually hurt in that situation?”
“No one,” I answered thoughtfully.
“Well,” Ian said sagely, (I noticed he always liked to say ‘well’ before putting my arguments soundly to rest. Presumably he considered this gave him a certain air of authority, hinting perhaps at his access to hidden knowledge.) “I think that more than proves my previous point.”
“How?”
“How?!” Ian asked in wonder. “Well, let’s ponder this again eh? Let’s put more than thirty seconds thought into this one shall we?” he mused. “Facts are as follows: For reasons that haven’t been adequately evaluated yet, Sam decides against all sensible advice to walk in front of a moving car. Said car stops, its tyres smoking, an inch from Sam’s waist. Sam and driver of said automobile both instinctively freeze. It is extremely difficult for any of the large number of onlookers to ascertain with any measure of certainty exactly whose face showed the greater degree of absolute, stark, blind terror and shock. Um. Sam or driver? I can’t quite decide!”
“Stop!” I cried, visibly cringing.
“Please, it’s very rude to interrupt, so if you’ll just let me finish,” Ian said casually. “Equally uncertain is the origins of the suspicious stains which flowed down the front of Sam’s shirt and his sparkling new trousers!”
“Be quiet!” I said sharply. “You know full well that was coffee!”
“Yes, I do,” Ian admitted regretfully, “But the burning question of the day is did everyone else?”
“When that poor driver fell out of his vehicle he was white and shaking! I honestly thought he was going to die right there on the spot. Was there really any need to embarrass us both in such a demeaning manner?”
“Yes, I think there was,” he replied slowly, “I’ve watched that fellow for weeks. Not once did he ever show any consideration for any road user, not least pedestrians. Families frequent those avenues Sam. Families with small children who deserve a pain free future. I’m not suggesting that his style of driving automatically makes the gentleman some type of uncaring, evil monster. Nevertheless he was stuck in his own world, quite content to speed along, looking, yes, but not observing. I imagine he was far more concerned with work timetables, or something equally as trivial that he misguidedly imbued with far more importance. With respect to his speed,” Ian continued, not quite ready to conclude his lesson yet, “Although his vehicle wasn’t mechanically capable of exceeding thirty miles per hour, the resulting collision with bodily tissue would have been catastrophic. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Need I continue further?”
“No, I think I begin to see now.”
“You, do?”
“Yes.” And for once I did. “I do still feel a little sore concerning the coffee part of the incident though Ian.”
“I would advise cream for that,” came his swift response. Because he was in such a gay mood I tried a quick question he’d always dodged before.
“So exactly what do you do when you leave me? All told you’re up to something rather more than sightseeing I’ll wager,” I probed, expecting the usual brush off.
“Oh, a host of weird and wonderful things young man. I find it’s awfully good fun imagining your another being now and again, don’t you? How they speak, feel, think, cope with differing situations without my skills, it’s a true marvel. You can become anything you like as well, that’s the beauty of it. I’ve even imagined animals too. You know I once wondered what it would be like being a marble...” he admitted, most probably drifting off into a long daydream.
“Ian, I believe you’ve some explaining to do,” I piped up, before he could begin another of his long lessons. “I really don’t know how you’ve got away with it for so long. You’ve deliberately been distracting me. Why didn’t you assist me that morning with the cows?”
“Because you didn’t need my help,” he answered quickly, “And because I wasn’t there. So try not to worry your little head too much over the affair. After all, I suspect the cheeky little chap was just showing off.”
“Just showing off! Ian, it meant to kill me! If I hadn’t turned tail and ran, that’s exactly what it would have done. And how the hell do you know what I’m talking about if you weren’t e
ven there?”
After much deep reflection he whispered, “So then, killer cows eh?! Have you ever heard of such a thing?” and giggled profusely.
“It’s nice to know you’re taking all this seriously, and have my best interests at heart,” I mused.
“Well, we’ve discussed this area before young man, and at length. Suffice to say, I have both eyes and ears, so doubt you were ever in any real danger. Need I say more?”
“I don’t suppose there’s much point. I mean, if you’re intending to continue taking things I say with a large pinch of salt.”
“That’s the spirit, my poor deluded, innocent young child!” he mocked. And that, it seemed was that.
Sir Ian Peters Page 6