by Gregg Holt
The pair were interrupted. “Lorna it’s time to go home. Her Mum had called to pick her up and they reluctantly wandered down stairs. Nevertheless, the scene was set and the excitement returned in abundance.
The day eventually arrived. Graham opened the door to Lorna and helped her load her bag in the already packed car and they had an uneventful drive to Holyhead to catch the ferry. Lorna had never been on a boat before and was very excited. Once on the boat, she seemed to lose her enthusiasm and by the time they reached Ireland she was rather pale. His parents, Graham and Lorna made their way across Ireland to the West Coast, the excitement building as they got closer to their destination. When you’re approaching Mayo Abbey, the roads start to bend and dip which reminded them of fairground rides with that funny sensation in their tummies. Graham’s anticipation levels started to rise to new heights and he found himself starring out the window thinking about his late Uncle. Approaching the familiar places, an unexpected strong emotional feeling embraced Graham without warning as he reminisced. Lorna looked across and noticed a small tear trickling down the side of his defined cheek bones and pointed chin before eventually disappearing below his t-shirt. Graham liked to wear casual sports wear, particularly track suits and jogging bottoms. Lorna was quite attracted to the sporty look which well-matched Grahams long athletic build and brown straight hair. He had light freckles on his face and arms which became more prominent in the sun.
A short while later the car pulled up outside an attractive little white cottage with stone patterns on the front. A modern property, it had a well-stocked front garden with a small concrete path dissecting the eye catching array of flowers and bushes. Slowly drifting up from the chimney, a thin wisp of pale smoke carried the delicious scent of turf smouldering in the direction of the newcomers.
“We’re here Lorna, this is it!” Graham announced, scrambling impatiently out of the car.
From the front of the house they had fantastic views of the West Coast of Ireland, Croagh Patrick, the largest mountain in the whole of Ireland, and the unpredictable Atlantic Ocean. As they climbed out of the car, Graham noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
An outline of a figure standing across in a field, wearing what appeared to resemble an old monk’s cloak with a hood pulled right over his head. The image lifted its head in Graham’s direction. Graham paused, staring directly at him; he could not distinguish any facial features beneath the hood and started to think back to the previous February, the frightful night when he had heard the strange cries and caught a glimpse of a strange image outside. Feeling apprehensive, he turned and called to Lorna.
“Have you seen that man over there?” he said, pointing in the general direction he had been looking.
Lorna quickly glanced round and shrugged her shoulders.
When Graham turned back he had gone. He found this astonishing as he had only turned away, for what could only have been a few seconds, yet the image was nowhere to be seen.
Graham was slightly unnerved. Although his best friend and family were close by, he actually felt quite isolated.
The house they were staying in was miles from the nearest village; in fact the closest neighbour was about two hundred yards away, which conveniently was the local shop and pub. The only other structures nearby were an old abbey, a church and graveyards. At night there was no light, it was pitch dark everywhere. The local pub left a light on at night and the occasional car or tractor would also light the surrounding countryside as it passed through.
They quickly ran into the house and Dan treated Graham to his customary greeting, a chin pie. Lorna watched bemused as Dan rubbed his chin on Graham, his stubbly growth irritating his immature skin. It was always fun for the first few seconds which generated Graham’s infectious laugh, followed quickly by a fight to escape his clutches seconds later. Lorna was lucky; Dan only reserved this tradition for his nephew. Dan was in his early sixties and was very fit. Although he had grey stringy hair, you just wouldn’t believe his age. He was very hard working and was proud of the house he had built a few years ago. This was the very house in which they were staying. After their brief hello to Dan, Graham showed Lorna the house and their bedrooms for the next two weeks. They were at the rear of the house with views over a small field; just beyond the end of the field was an old church and cemetery. There were two small bedrooms with a joining door which had a slight musty smell to which they quickly became accustomed. Lorna quickly claimed the nearest room for herself. They started to unpack their cases and put clothes in the wardrobes and draws. By this time it was starting to get late and the sun was starting to set. The delicious smell of cooking started to touch their senses and caught their attention. They made their way quickly to the living room for a spot of supper followed by tea and Irish Mikado marshmallow biscuits, just what was required after a long day’s travelling. The open fireplace hosted a welcoming fire that was well under way and gave the cottage an unmistakable homely feel to it. They sat on the couch watching the flames dance and listening to the snaps and cracks of the burning turf. It wasn’t long before they started to lose the fight to stay awake and began to fall asleep. There were no arguments from them when Graham’s Mum suggested they turn in for the day. With freshly brushed teeth, they went in the bedroom and proceeded to close the curtains. As Graham started to pull the curtains together he noticed to his horror the strange man from earlier, right outside the window. He was inches away, looking straight at him, but still he couldn’t see his face. At first Graham couldn’t speak but eventually he managed a startled scream as he fell backwards away from the window, Dan came running in quickly.
“What’s the matter?” he said in his deep Irish voice. “Th ... there is someone out there!” he replied breathlessly. Dan quickly ran out, and Lorna could see the light from the torch dancing around the shadows as he was having a good look round. “No one there!” he said as he returned to the bedroom shivering, “but it’s ice cold out there.” After a few minutes Graham started to settle down wondering whether his eyes were playing tricks on him. Although he was quite shocked, he did start to nod off and fortunately had a good night’s sleep.
The next morning, Graham woke to the sound of a tractor and peered cautiously out of the bedroom window. In the field just beyond the house a large tractor was busy moving up and down the meadow.
Walking into the living room, Dan was crouched stoking the fire.
“Morning Graham, did you sleep well?”
“Not too bad, thanks.”
“Have you recovered from the shock last night?”
“I think so,” Graham replied, remembering the apparition with a shudder.
Dan sat back up into his chair.
“There have been some strange things happening around here over the past few weeks. A few of the local farmers have noticed what they thought was an old monk wondering around the fields. My Grandfather used to tell me a story about a faceless monk.
“He said there was no face because he possessed no soul; the cloak he wore was stolen from a monk who was never seen again.
“It is rumoured he is searching for secret burial grounds somewhere in Ireland. My Grandfather used to say he would never stop searching until he found the sacred site. There is a belief that sometimes when a relative or someone close to you passes away a haunting scream can be heard that echoes three times. If you hear this scream bad news will soon be arriving at your door step. Grandfather used to say this was because the angels had arrived to escort the departed of good people when the evil spirits were present.”
Graham started thinking about his own experience earlier in the year.
“Dan, can I ask you a question, it might sound daft?”
“Course you can Graham.”
“I think I heard the cries of the monk on the night when Jim died, what would that mean?”
“Hmmm,” sighed Dan loudly.
“Did Jim ever tell you any old tales about Knocknakil?”
“No, never
,” responded Graham quickly, not knowing where to look. Dan looked at him suspiciously. “All I can say is that these are old tales and if you think you heard the screams on that night, then who am I to argue. One thing is for sure that Jim was a good man, that monk must have thought he knew something about the sacred burial site.”
At that point Lorna walked in, stretching her arms right up into the air as if finishing a race in first place. Graham couldn’t help but notice her top riding up revealing her belly button.
“Where are my manners,” said Dan, “who wants a cup of tea?” and hastily he went off into the kitchen.
Graham sat back in his chair, thinking about the conversation with Dan.
After a satisfying full cooked breakfast they headed out to explore the surrounding area. The weather was cloudy but not cold or raining which was overall good news although the mountains were hidden in low clouds. They wandered down the lane to the local shop to explore and spend some of their holiday money on sweets. Considering the remote positioning of the shop in the country, there were quite a few customers inside. One farmer was speaking to the man behind the counter, telling him that his cattle were all very restless last night. “Something was scaring them, one of my prize heifers had tried to run through the dry stone wall, so it must have been something quite scary, they are never bothered by foxes or any other type animal. It’s a bit of a mystery,” he said as he picked up his supplies and left the shop, acknowledging the two youngsters with a smile. They walked into the shop and wandered around the untidily stacked shelves, looking for some interesting items. The couple paid for their sweets and left the shop, moving in the direction of the graveyard and discussing the story they had just overheard.
They passed the old church which looked neglected and uncared for. They stopped at the entrance to the cemetery, examining the surroundings.
Lorna sat up on the stone wall, choosing the flattest rock for comfort.
“I will wait here Graham,” she said as Graham opened the old rusty gate and headed in. Lorna opened a packet of her sweets and settled down, sensing this was a private affair.
Graham entered through the old gate and slowly followed the directions he had been given by Dan until he arrived at a headstone with Jim’s name engraved on it.
After saying a few words, he started to look around. Just behind was the old church and all around you could see mounds on the ground which were very uneven although in straight lines. These were the ruins of some of the old abbeys. It was a peaceful and tranquil place and Graham found himself listening to the birds singing and cattle braying in the distance.
His thoughts were interrupted as Lorna shouted “Have you seen him over there?” as she jumped off the wall and nodded her head in the direction of the man she had seen.
Graham quickly turned to look; there was a lane with a large hill in the distance but he could not see anybody.
“Do they have a monastery around here?” Lorna asked inquisitively.
“No, why?” Graham replied, still looking in the direction Lorna had pointed.
“Well that man on the hill had a monk’s cloak on, came right over his face,” Lorna explained.
The hairs on the back of Graham’s neck started to stand up.
“Look over there Graham,” Lorna shouted, pointing towards the back of the graveyard.
Graham spun round; the hooded man was there, inside the cemetery and moving quickly in his direction. Graham turned towards him slowly edging backwards. The faceless image was dark and menacing.
“Maybe we should come back later, eh Graham?” Lorna suggested, moving away from the cemetery gate. Leaving Graham, she quickly started to run.
Graham, sensing the danger, turned and quickly started to run after Lorna. He noticed she was already outside the wall and heading away from the cemetery. Graham glanced back and felt his running was making little progress.
“Quick Graham!” Lorna shouted, panic etched in her voice.
Chapter 4
The Stream
As Graham frantically rushed towards the gap in the wall, he could feel hot volcanic breath burning into the back of his neck. His lungs were at full capacity and he started to struggle to maintain his momentum. After what seemed like an eternity, Graham scrambled through the purpose-built entrance to the cemetery, landing in Lorna’s arms. They both fell backwards, narrowly missing a couple about to enter the graveyard.
“Watch out!” a voice shouted as they continued through the gateway muttering “kids of today”.
“You alright Graham?” Lorna asked as they both scrambled to their feet.
“Yeah I think so,” he replied, quickly gaining the confidence to look back. “Where is it?”
“Don’t know,” replied Lorna searching the horizon. “It just disappeared.” All they could see was the couple Graham had nearly run into standing at one of the graves.
They made their way quickly back to the cottage while they kept checking behind them, hearts beating hard and hands shaking.
Later that day, Graham and Lorna had recovered from their experience and went with Graham’s parents over to see his Aunt at the mysterious farm of Knocknakil. Quickly, Graham jumped out of the car and ran into the waiting arms of his Aunt. Squeezing tightly, she held her nephew firmly in her hands; you could only just notice him under her large frame.
“Ah this must be Lorna, you didn’t tell me she was this pretty Graham, Welcome to Knocknakil, make yourself at home!” she exclaimed quickly, extended her welcoming hug.
Lorna was lost in Aunt’s pleasantly plump figure, being hauled into her soft motherly breasts. Instantly she warmed to Kathleen, identifying with her kind-hearted manner. Although Lorna did have an Aunt somewhere in America, Kathleen was the type of relative she always imagined her to be. However, she did sense a head teacher element to her personality which she soon put to the back of her mind as she didn’t intend to cross her.
“Come in, I have the kettle on for ye,” she said, heading into the farmhouse.
The pair of them followed warily, chuckling about the bear hug they had just received.
They followed her in to the main room for tea and some delightful homemade cakes.
“Hmmm, these cakes are delicious!” Lorna said to Graham, speaking with her mouth full and crumbs escaping freely.
“Why don’t you take Lorna for a tour of the farm Graham?” Aunt suggested, offering Lorna another cake.
“Yes, cool,” Lorna nodded, grabbing a cake sharply.
Having finished their cakes, they were quickly onto their feet and heading outside for Lorna’s first tour of the farm. As Graham opened the door, heavy rain fell into the house leaving their plans in shatters.
Returning into the house, Aunt was midway through explaining strange happenings on the farm to Graham’s parents. Lorna noticed Kathleen’s short manageable brown hair and creases starting to appear around her mouth with a slight bow of flesh under her chin. As she continued her story, she sat a little un-ladylike, her elasticated skirt riding slightly above her pop socks and slippers.
However, taking all this into account, Lorna was really taken with her warm facial features and affectionate persona.
“The cattle and sheep are acting strangely; they won’t go past the first hill in the direction of the stream. Even the weather has been bad, dark clouds blocking out most of the sunlight. Some of the local farmers are complaining about strange creatures stalking their land making strange noises at night. All I know for sure is I heard it myself and not long after the cattle became very restless and came to the gate trying to come back off the fields into the milking sheds.
“A few weeks ago very early in the morning, just after sunrise, I set off towards the hills and stream to bring the cattle in for milking. Over on top of the hill I saw a man dressed in what I thought was an old white coat; he had a long staff and white hair. He didn’t belong in this era that’s for sure, and was quite elderly as if he was a chief elder from some sort of ancient tribe.
He looked over in my direction and I froze. I was captivated for what seemed like ages. Eventually he smiled and casually walked off in the direction of the stream. As he disappeared over the other side of the hill, the cattle started making there way over towards the sheds. Although I was frightened I didn’t feel in any danger and I haven’t seen him since”.
The rain was still falling heavily and they reluctantly accepted defeat and arranged with Kathleen to visit the following day. Graham’s parents were going visiting some friends in Galway and thought it might be a little boring for the children.
Pulling out of the farm into the dark night, Graham’s Father lit the countryside with the full beam of their car.
The darkness consumes the countryside at this time of night and spooky shadows crept towards the car trying to devour its occupants. The lights manage to fend off the ensuing attack as they drove down the deserted lanes.