Diary Of An Occult Resolution Assistant

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Diary Of An Occult Resolution Assistant Page 12

by Chris Norgate


  My left hand turned on the taps and I slunk into the deepening bath. The water was hot and I didn't care, it was washing away my cold damp fears from last night and cooling my steaming temper; the bubbles popped diffusing the air with the aroma of summer blossoms and fruits.

  10:45

  Several top ups of near scalding but welcoming water later I was back to being as close to human as I could manage. My hair was curled and knotted and I was stained with bruises and small cuts across all surfaces of skin. One or two thorns had returned with me and I utilised a needle from a travel sewing kit to liberate them from my person.

  I wandered back downstairs after a deep physiological internal debate over whether to get some sleep or to call the Boss. I didn't have that much to tell him, and what I thought I knew I was questioning in the cold light of day. Small shadows run deep in the night and can fish attack animals? I thought I had heard about perch or pikes - some fish starting with a "P" - do we have piranha in England? That take bites out of people and animals that fall into the water; how big can they get and do they actively hunt at night? I scribbled it down on a back of a receipt from my bag to remind me to look it up on line later. My phone was fully charged when I got to it and as I was desperate to contact Xanthic and report of my diligent activities last night I did so immediately after I made a cup of tea, buttered toast and following that broke into a family size bar of Galaxy chocolate.

  The phone rang once before it was answered and the carefully prepared blurb I had been reciting within my head suddenly deserted me.

  "£3.50 baguette." I said as I pulled out my note from my pocket and read the wrong side. "big fish eating thing and evil old witch." I corrected without a pause hoping I would get away with it and Xanthic would understand my research into the strange activities happening in this neck of the woods - quite literally this neck of the scarey arse dark and creepy animal filled woods.

  "Big thing eating fish? Could be cats." came the reply "and as for evil old witches, I thought they had all died out years ago to be replaced by college girls with copied grimoires and middle age divorcees with a bucket full of petrol, the ex's silk ties and a lighter." he sounded like he was trying to get a rise out of me and I was determined to remain professional.

  "Yeah, a real witch and no, not fish eating things, a fish eating thing. A fish ate a badger took a great chunk out of it, left big claw flipper marks in the mud and then I met a witch, who was here when I left and had a go at me then I met her in her house; which I may add is in your garden and she said to call her Melody, but that’s not her real name. And I got soaking wet."

  I was beginning to think I should have applied for an office job somewhere in town where the strangest thing that happens is someone wears a red tie or brings in a balloon - that was a really good day when I was a temp with a few other girls and we kept a pink balloon up for hours till the boss popped it - good days.

  "I think I understand what’s going on and I'll be coming down there tomorrow. I’ll phone in the morning." Xanthic said, I could hear shuffling in the background like he was reading a broadsheet newspaper in a confined space and trying to turn the pages into a size he could hold with one hand.

  "For now I want you to look into the river side of things. Find out if there have been any sightings of anything in the river. The animals being mutated stories could fit in with this but not all of them have been near water, or at least they haven't been reported that way. Ask around, find the local nut, a different and normal local nut if you can to Miss Melody and see if they can illuminate the dark a little."

  I made a note of this on my receipt, along with a note to buy a new notebook.

  "The countryside does bring out funny ideas in people, especially in Wykeham, it’s situated dead on three crossed ley lines and it attracts people who are tuned into the world in a different way. Some are very distantly related to Others, some are touched by Fae and some.......well I'll call them nuts to their face if I can't smell anything from my lot on them." Xanthic paused and I could hear him talking quietly to someone on the other side; I couldn’t make out the words but I really hoped he hadn't just taken on another contract to go zombie hunting, kids!

  "If you take my advice, and I would, it’s usually right. Stay away from anyone calling themselves a witch or anything else till I get there. Just concentrate on narrowing down our search area to a few miles. If my guess is right it'll be an animal and will stay close to its den. We can then track it down the old fashioned way and be on our way before the local authorities stomp in kicking and shouting and mess the whole thing up for us......Look, I have to go."

  Without ceremony or pause for my reply he hung up. The phone hovered at my ear playing the monotone of disconnection while my brain assimilated the new information: Stay out of trouble and ask a few questions - this sounds like another trip to the pub where I can stay out of trouble surrounded by a lot of people; simple.

  Firstly, I had a pressing date with my duvet and I hated to stand it up. The bed was welcoming, the mattress and duvet enveloped in in their warm embrace and pulled the aches out of my tired body and brought forth a sleep that came over me before the weight of my head had transferred onto the pillow.

  *

  I was in my bed as warm and comfortable as I have ever been, I could have very contented but for a small inconsistency. The bed dissolved around me folding back into itself and leaving no trace on a wood floor and I was now sat on a bench leaning on a hardwood table laughing and conversations I couldn't make out and pop tunes on the jukebox of meaningless vocals and light guitar, but fun was happening and alcohol fumes hung heavy in the pink fluffy air and I was here for the ride. Fluffy clouds formed into hazy figures, some at an arm's distance were masculine and others touching me formed into laughing clones of the girls, not any specific girls, just 'the girls' found out on any night of the week.

  It was warm and happy and light, a larger cloud that bulged femininely swirled around taking my focus pulling me into the embrace of the candyfloss tendrils whispering around my body inviting me to stay wrapped up here forever. My heart started to slow its timings as the music around me to mellow sonnets of loves lost and love's won.

  A crack like that of a whip startled me and the fuzzy warmth was pulled away to a point behind me as if a vacuum nozzle had been turned on to extract a smoke filled atmosphere. Cold cut through to my bones and the light was smashed away buy razored triangles shooting up from the floor like nightmare trees growing in a hideous forest. A grinning death mask illuminated the inky blackness in a silver circle jarring all feelings of happiness from me. Angry shadows as thick as iron bars flung themselves at me causing me to flinch to the left and right. Not a one made contact but their passing was felt through their motion and currents left as they violently dispersed, quicker and quicker they flew at me and I fell to floor hugging my knees crying for it to stop.

  As sudden as it started the were all gone and I was alone in the darkness. a sound of a dripping tap rang out with every drop that hit its terminus. There was nothing all around me, the grinning moon above cast no light off any object.

  The dripping sped up and became a purr, softness of water falling into its own caress in the void pulled back from the fear and lulled me into myself and an image of Xanthic's stand alone bath came to mind a comfort equal to that of my bed. Darkness itself holds no fear, is the unknown that grips onto the little primal parts of our brains and whispers gently into our ears ''It's behind you.''

  Water touched my toes as a cold puddle formed and started to grow as if in a downpour. My foot skipped back and I when put it down it was up to my ankle in icy water which lapped against my legs as it rose in a steady climb. The temperature did not freeze me but the situation did. Find out where you are and workout where you need to be. It’s a very simple statement and there are much worse rules to live your life too, but right now it was as helpful as contraceptives in a Labour ward.

  The water was now at my knees and rising quickl
y towards my waist. My feet left the floor as buoyancy played its part after the surface rose above my chest and i started treading to stay afloat, my arms pushing against the fluid rise and neck arching to gain as much height as I could.

  A frantic search gave no indication of bankside or floating refuge, nor any other feature. The moon gave no reflection of the water and my mind screamed out for stimulus for solutions. This mental request dramatically changed. A splash screamed out and ripples played across the surface of the water. Something fast brushed my feet and I pulled my feet up into a ball and I started to swim. The direction did not matter, away was the only point on my compass. Something large sped past me inches from my face in front of me and water filled my mouth and nose causing me to choke and splash widely to keep my breath. I pushed backwards and rounded my arms into windmills to pull me away, then rolled with the momentum onto my front and wished I had done more in school swimming lessons than stand gossiping in the corner with Sophie Reed trying to see if the boys were looking without making it obvious I was looking too. A crazed front crawl developed from panicked energy and a desire to be anywhere else. A mouth rose out of the water, teeth were prominent and captured my full attention till all else paled to insignificance.

  There were no words no emotion no time to formulate any sensible response to this as the gaping maw was upon me with razors dripping strings of rancid saliva and a force of rotting flesh overpowering my senses stinging tears from my eyes and gagging from my throat.

  I threw my arms over my head as the teeth fell over me and screamed as pain scissored into them with hot blood running freely. My mouth opened in a silent scream and a slap from a solid hand turned my head and my cheek erupted with a fresh pain. Melody was stood in her cottage looking at me sternly. She grew in all dimensions but then realised I was shrinking, rolling backwards from the young woman I am back though my troubled teenage body and into a quiet and embarrassed nine year old girl who was terminally conscious of her developing body and having no one to turn to or to find a voice to talk to a teacher or one of my ever changing carers.

  “You are Valentine and you here.'' she said without words then she physically pushed me hard on my shoulders and I tripped backwards and heavily hit the floor which knocked the air from my lungs followed by a harsh strike from the hard stone against the back of my head driving all consciousness from my body.

  With a huge gasp I ripped myself out of sleep and sat up in the bed in the middle of the afternoon surprisingly refreshed and alert. I made a pact with myself right then not to eat strong mature cheese on toast before bed and hopped out of the room determined to make a positive achievement with the remaining day.

  Shopping list - new nice shampoo, if I'm going to have all this stress in my life I'm going to need a lot more good shampoo! Do they make gallon size bottles?

  15:00

  I selected sensible shoes and equally sensible clothes to match. I won't win any glamour contests but at least I'd be better prepared for midnight hikes through the woods and to that end I re-checked my phone battery, the screen illuminated to my touch and it displayed 97%, which was good enough for me.

  The nap I had in that heavenly bed If you could call anything heavenly in a house owned by a self confessed demon, had left me refreshed and with a bright outlook. The images of wicked witches and scary river monsters were gone, evaporating in the heat of the day like a puddle after a light Summer shower; It was hard to remember what, if anything had passed through my mind.

  As I passed the hall mirror I stopped to apply a little make-up, a red rash had appeared on my cheek and then I collected a few notes and a handful of coins and headed out the door.

  Clive was outside when I walked up the driveway, cutting things with oversized gardeny scissor things and a rake was at hand to keep everything as tidy as possible, even his pile of cuttings formed an almost perfect pyramid. The blades came together with a bright 'shhheeeellac' sound, the motion efficient and effective. He had lines of sweat on his brow and even in the very welcoming heat of the day he wore a cardigan buttoned up as far as the remaining buttons allowed and those ones that were left were fighting to keep the two sides together over the prominent extrusion of his grandfather belly.

  "Good afternoon my dear." he said wiping away the perspiration with the back of his sleeve. "You're looking as beautiful as the roses."

  I looked down at the mismatching top and trousers, and the least said about the shoes the better, and failed to see what he was talking about. "Nah, " I responded, "Working hard?"

  "No, just trimming the bushes to stop them over growing and keep them in shape, they bloom better with care and control. Beth always liked them this time of year when they were about to burst into colour."

  "Beth?" I was useless at names but was sure Annie was his wife's name, although I have made mistakes like that with friends boyfriend’s' names or calling them by the name of the one before last.

  "Aye, apple of my eye and weight upon my knee she was." Clive stopped and rested his frame on the handle of the rake and absentmindedly raked at the ground whether there were clippings or not. "My daughter, beautiful thing with life flowing out of her with every bounce and sway. Dance, she would dance so well in the mid-summer."

  Annie was bustling up the cottage's garden with a tray covered by a tea towel; a jug and glass unmistakably stood there with, if I was not mistaken, the edge of a small plate containing a sweet treat. Clive was well looked after and the cause of the tight cardigan was becoming clear; I hoped that I would find someone to care for me like this one day. Annie stiffened when she drew near and her look turned to concern. Clive had a tear in his eye and everything about him from his shoulders through to his wrinkles had sagged. Annie did not speak, but the look she gave me was of concern and questioning.

  "I...I'm sorry. I just asked about Beth, Clive was..."

  "We do not talk much about Bethany these days I'm afraid. Do not be sorry she's not here anymore."

  Clive and Annie had come together in a very familiar embrace where shoulder to shoulder they could face the world.

  "I'm sorry, has she passed on?" I asked with as much understanding as I could.

  "Oh Heavens no", said Annie, "Just not here."

  "Ran away to London to chase dreams and not a care for family or duty." added Clive, for all the punch the statement could have had there was no effort behind it or any stress on the words, just a hole in his tone.

  I wanted to pry no longer and I began to feel uncomfortable in raising the past private sorrows, like an eavesdropper during a private conversation between two close friends or being a stranger at a wedding breakfast.

  Clive wanted to talk, and the least I could do now the conversation was flowing was to listen to his story which weaved disjointed and full of memories out of order with narrative that changed from perspective and era's of childhood to teenage rebellion and back again.

  The village was a small place, the woods and meadows, expansive and trawling as they were could not hold an entity that radiated enthusiasm as Bethany had. A wife and mother in a cottage in the woods was not for her. Once she adored the countryside and willed away the hours making flower garlands down by the stretch or river on the estate and reading books of adventure and fairies sitting in the twisting boughs of the trees. Then as all children do she grew up, made friends and received an education and horizons that once formed the edge of her universe turned into the boundaries to her cage. Like many of the girls as beautiful as her, she joined the group. Was it just here, or was there one group in every village or community where girls met to talk and imagine? The group here filled her head with wonders and offered her power over her growing body and gave her power to stand up and want more. Like the others, the group found the money to send her off to London to chase her dreams and fancies, gave her a house to live in and support.

  Clive now turned away and his voice deepened and bitterness seeped in. "They took the place of her family and took her from us. All those
beautiful laughing girls, all perfect and all sly and all worms in the apple."

  Annie comforted him and a mountain of grief stood snow capped around them. I made a small token of empathy for feelings I could never begin to understand and with a wish I never would and assisted Annie in getting Clive indoors. Once at the door I left. The warming sun lost its glow and the carefully created spectacle of the garden wilted in my eye.

  I made a mental note to ask about Beth in the village as discreetly as I could in a hope I could help track her down and maybe lift some of the sorrow from the old couple’s lives. The cottage needs the sound of children's laughter and the swing-less tree at the centre of the garden would appeal more with a rope tied through it to a stick seat. Maybe there was a grandchild or two out there to complete the picture.

  I set my feet moving slowly at first then with greater speed as I moved away from Fernum and towards the village centre. I still had a job to do and an employer who expects results.

  *

  The setting sun astonished the darkening sky with jagged shards of vibrant iridescent hues of complexion and tincture. Reds and oranges fought each other for the horizon in which to display their brilliance so hard they didn't notice a band of pink invading the sky so strong I dare anyone to label it as solely a girly colour from now on. It was beautiful and humbling. It was also depressing to watch the blending of such beauty play out in front of me while I was stuck fast and struggling to free myself from the porthole of a pub toilet window that I find myself trapped around my waist in.

  The night had not turned out quite how I imagined it would, It had picked up after leaving Clive and Annie's cottage as I met "the girls" as I think of them on the road but now I'm going to need a whole fire engine full of ladders to get me out of this hole I’ve dug for myself.

 

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