In Search of the Alter Dom

by Jack Challis

  ‘Can we gob on him?’ asks Bunderhund: the least intelligent of the three Hobs. He regretted asking such a stupid question immediately.

  Grunwalde fixed Bunderhund with a withering look. The Hob squirmed under her cold gaze. She then addressed a small Sisling hovering annoyingly close to her face grinning, its eyebrows raised over black button eyes. ‘Now Boochi – no stinging – just biting,’ then changing her mind again, ‘no, give the moron a good hard bite – then a sting on his fat arse – but no venom! A wild Silky will summon Caddoc Morgan to the big rock, I will watch. Now what skin shall I wear?’ Queen Angharad ponders.

  Grunwalde stood still. Her shape seemed to break down as her molecules began to re-arrange themselves into a real crouching, snarling tiger; ears laid flat, teeth bared – the big cat’s blazing yellow eyes fixed on the three lowly Tartarus Hobs!

  The three brutish Hobs cowered terrified; clinging to each other, while the attending Lings laughed. (Lings have no fear of any animal!)

  After frightening the shit out of the Hobs: Grunwalde returned to her normal self. ‘No,’ says the Queen Grunwalde Angharad, ‘something more appropriate…. something that flies.’ She looked at the Sisling still hovering annoyingly in front of her face for a suggestion.

  ‘A bee,’ suggests the Sisling, ‘a bay-be-bee.’ (Sislings loved bees and often carried a live bumble bee around with them – like a child carries a teddy.)

  ‘Don’t be stupid – you little bug-brained, sapp-sucking imbecile – something scary,’ Grunwalde scolds.

  A lovely tall slender, wild-eyed Silky appears through the late twilight shades. The graceful Silky; the three squat Hobs and the colourful little Sisling, made a strange looking group, as they took the wooded path downward. ‘I know what skin to wear,’ announces Grunwalde, ‘I will watch from the crag.’ She then turned into a fierce looking harpy eagle. With a flap of its wings – the eagle was airborne.

  ‘The call of a wild Silky is a silent call: only heard in the distant reaches of the mind; a forgotten part of the brain. The call is compelling?

  Caddoc Morgan was big for his age – so was his appetite. Returning home that evening, he was pleased with his day. He had caused misery, pain and fear to his peers. In the case of the widow Owen’s two children, also hunger for the rest of the whole week – he had taken their dinner money!

  However, Caddoc still had unfinished business: Blodwyn Jones. To Caddoc Morgan children came under several categories. The timid ones, he could bully straight away. The ones he had to get to know first, before the bullying began. Finally the children he would like to bully – but was stopped by their confidence and his lack of courage.

  Blodwyn Jones fitted this category, her courage and confidence made Caddoc uneasy – she was also three inches taller. She had begun to interfere with his bullying; especially with the timed Owen children.

  On top of Caddoc’s bulling list, were weak children with weak parents. Caddoc’s pug-snout could sniff out weakness like a pig sniffs out truffles. The children of Sgt Thomas, the policeman, were safe; Caddoc knew the policeman did not like him.

  Caddoc was his mother’s pride and joy. His father “Morgan the Milk” spent the mornings on his round; the afternoons in the betting shop, and the evenings in the Owain Glyndwr pub.

  Caddoc sat down to a well-set table that warm balmy June night and surveyed his over-piled plate with satisfaction.

  The phone rang! ‘Morgan the Milk’s house,’ answers Mrs. Morgan. ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ Caddoc heard his mother say and looked up.

  ‘Your Father is in hospital Caddoc!’

  ‘I bet he fell arse over tit leaving the pub,’ Caddoc mumbles.

  ‘Your Dad may not be back tonight. Do you want to go over Caddoc – visit your father in hospital?’

  ‘No!’ answers Caddoc. ‘But I’ll have his dinner!’

  However before Caddoc could lift his fork to his small goby-like mouth he heard the silent, compelling and enchanting call of a wild Silky in his far distant brain. The call registered somewhere at the back of his forgotten mind. Dropping his fork – he made for the door.

  ‘Caddoc!’ exclaims his doting mother….. ‘Your dinners…..’

  ‘Put them in the oven,’ was her son’s only response.

  Outside, the curtains of dusk were slowly falling; the alluring call seemed to be coming from the riverbank. When Caddoc reaches the riverbank, the call now came from across the river! Caddoc suddenly became afraid, but the compulsion, the promise of the lilting call was irresistible! Then a thought entered his mind. Caddoc may have been a heartless bully but he had imagination. Not the kind of imagination to appreciate the misery he gave his victims; but his own personal selfish imagination.

  Caddoc loved Sci-fi programs. He had made up his mind, that if he ever met an Alien he would befriend it, and benefit from the friendship! “Could the Aliens be calling him? Had they probed him while he was asleep? Was he the chosen one?” The calling voice was alluringly feminine; perhaps a race of lovely female aliens had chosen him to be their lord and master. Maybe they needed him to re-populate their dying planet! Caddoc Morgan crossed the ford, with a certain amount of trepidation – but mounting anticipation. Perhaps the aliens would also let him rule Wales!

  Reaching the opposite bank Caddoc stopped: scanning the surroundings for his archenemy Bryn Jones the Alco! All clear, the drunkard was not in sight! When he ruled Wales, he would banish Bryn Jones to the Gobi desert, where he will never find an off license.

  Caddoc waited – the lilting call again – now further up the purple tinged mountain. Relieved, he took the stony path upwards. Every step he took into the now semi darkness shrank his imagination and anticipation: but swelled his fear! Caddoc had heard many strange things about this mountain – he would only continue to the big rock – not a step further!

  Caddoc the bully stopped twenty paces from the big rock – he could hear his heartbeat, his thick legs felt weak with fear. He peered into the gloom ahead. Standing by the big rock was a shadowy figure – it beckoned gracefully. This was it – he was the chosen one – no more college. The graceful figure disappeared behind the big rock – “she wanted him to see their spaceship maybe!”

  Greed, ambition and a low intellect overcame Caddoc’s mounting fear. He moved forward until he reached the big rock – the figure had vanished! Caddoc rushed to catch up and found himself totally alone and petrified! On impulse he looked behind him. The top of the big rock he had just passed now looked out of shape; the top was usually rounded. Something was crouching on top!

  A horrible thought occurred to Caddoc. “What if the aliens only wanted to dissect his chunky body – have a good rummage around in his fat-greasy innards – then suck his body dry? Something flashed over Caddoc’s large melon-shaped head with incredible speed – he felt the draft lift the rim of his basin-cut – like the skirt of a hover-craft. The thing had a greenish blue glow. He turned and watched.

  The thing stopped abruptly, hanging in the air like a kestrel, but without movement. He had never seen anything move that swiftly! His fear mounting, Caddoc Morgan was now in a quandary – he wanted out. Terrified to continue upwards or retrace his steps downwards: a status quo ensued.

  There was definitely something crouching on top of the large rock; he could now see its hunched silhouette framed by a rising waxy moon! Caddoc Morgan the bully was trapped! Fear made him sweat like an opulent pig, his intakes of breath became short and sharp. Apart from bullying and stuffing his goby-like pudding hole; Caddoc possessed another talent: screaming!

  His terrifying screams always froze, paralyzed his intended victims as they tried to escape, until he grabbed them. Screaming was a way of subduing his doting mother and frightening teachers. Screaming also protected Caddoc from angry fathers who finally caught up with him. His blood curdling screams un-nerved them: they quickly left him.

  Yes, he would scream – frighten whatever it was away – attract attention down in the village. Then as if to
add to his terror a large bird, five times bigger than any buzzard, landed on the crag above him and gave out a piercing cry that ricocheted off the granite masts of the Cambrian mountainside!

  Filling his capable lungs, Caddoc screamed his loudest. The desperation of his scream, scared him even more! Nevertheless, the scream did not carry down to the village; it rebounded off some invisible barrier and bounced back at him. Worse still, his scream seemed to anger the strange flying creature ahead – goading it into action. It flew straight at him with lightning speed, it was now flashing red. It clung on to his arm – he could feel the power of its grip. The creature was heavy for its small size.

  Whatever this bug was, Caddoc was going to deal it a heavy blow; expecting to hear the crushing crunch of its carapace, that bugs make when squashed. Instead his fat fist hit something as hard as Welsh steel!

  ‘Ouch – bollocks!’ swore the foul-mouthed Caddoc: nursing his painful hand and looking down into the creature’s face in horror. It was something in-between a human and an insect. It looked back at him – grinning, showing small razor sharp teeth. He watched in fascinated horror as the creature pressed its face down on his arm. Instantly Caddoc felt the most incredible pain. ‘Oooouch – you little bastard,’ swore Caddoc. The small creature had bitten him! Caddoc had never felt such pain in his life.

  Caddoc the bully screamed out as loud as he could – tears streaming down his podgy face, his goby-like pudding-hole wide open. However, worst pain was to come – in a flash, the small creature flew around him and gripped onto his fat backside. Twisting his head, Caddoc saw the creature press down its pointed rear end! If Caddoc thought the bite excruciatingly painful – he soon changed his mind. The sting was far worse! It felt like an electric shock and took his breath away, leaving him gasping. The creature then hovered by Caddoc’s face, eyebrows raised over dark button eyes, and grinned at him.

  When the pain subsided and strength returned to his thick legs, Caddoc got rabbit in his blood and bolted back down the mountain path towards the village yelling; but his yells again bounced back in his face. As he ran past the big rock, something heavy nimbly leapt from it – onto his broad back! Caddoc’s thick powerful legs just managed not to give way under the weight of his rider. Powerful arms and legs gripped Caddoc vice-like.

  The being’s viscous saliva dribbled down Caddoc’s chest. He got the full stink of its foul breath, as its broad muzzle, nuzzled into his thick neck. The being’s chin dug deep into his clavicle recess for purchase. Caddoc pumped his thick powerful legs; fear and the down hill gradient lending them wings. The river was in sight; across the ford someone would help him! Reaching the ford, Caddoc was about to scream again when the being on his back, inserted two thick, smelly-clawed fingers into each side of Caddoc’s small goby-like gob (a makeshift bridle and bit), he was now being ridden like a pit-pony carrying top weight.

  Caddoc was about to cross the river when the being on his back using its fingers, turned Caddoc’s head around; back towards the mountain again. Sharp dewclaws on the inside of the being’s legs dug deep into Caddoc’s fat, flabby, flaccid love handles: spurring him painfully upwards.

  Two more beings suddenly appeared and joined in the sport, he could plainly hear them grunting gruffly. ‘Our turn – Bulrus Khan. Give the fat jack-of-apes plenty of stick and spur.’ All the while, the little flying creature that had stung and bitten him, hovered annoyingly close to his face grinning; eyebrows raised over black button eyes.

  This sport continued: each Tartarus Hob taking turns, riding the thick- necked bully; whipping his fat rump with a switch pulled from a hazel bush. Caddoc’s thick legs and aching lungs could take no more. He collapsed and in horror watched one of the beings take his ample calf into its mouth and bite – only stopping at the bone!

  This time Caddoc’s yell echoed over the petrified Cambrian mountainsides of Gwynedd and Powys, finally dying as it bounced off Cader Idriss!

  The three beings then began to mug him. Rough hands rifled his pockets: his prized mobile was taken, with all his victims’ mobile numbers. Caddoc’s supply of scattered sweets was ignored by the Hobs. But the little creature that had bitten and stung him – greedily stuffed its mouth.

  The three Tartarus Hobs then began to pummel him with their fists; grunting with pleasure. Just before he passed out, Caddoc heard the little flying creature whisper in his small, chunky lug-hole. ‘Blodwyn Jones sends greetings – never cast your shadow on her freckles again!’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  An Obscene old Slag

  A grotty, grotesque, gruesome – decaying, foul old Hag.

  Diamond rings on her crooked toes

  A filthy smelly, hairy, dirty obscene-cadaverous old Slag;

  A dew-drop dangling off her boney nose

  When Caddoc regained consciousness, it was pitch black and the mountainside was still. Nevertheless, his heart was soon back in overdrive. This was no nightmare; he could still feel the excruciating pain of the bite and the sting. Caddoc played possum, just in case his attackers were still near! The night was quiet, except for a splash down in the river and the call of a distant owl.

  Caddoc managed to crawl home late that night – unaware his ordeal was not over yet! His frantic mother urgently summoned policeman Sgt Thomas Thomas and Doctor Tudor Ellis from their warm beds.

  Caddoc looked a pitiful sight. His clothes were torn and damp with sweat and saliva from the three dribbling Tartarus Hobs. Caddoc had two lovely black eyes that made him look like a startled panda – caught in the bath.

  Caddoc’s father Morgan the Milk, had returned early from the hospital that evening with a hearty appetite and had polished off both the dinners in the oven; while Mrs. Morgan’s back was turned. His bandaged head slowly surfaced from the Sporting Life and looked at Caddoc; smiled then returned to his paper. Both professionals studied the bruised, battered and tattered Caddoc lying on the settee: with little sympathy.

  ‘What have you been up to Caddoc Morgan?’ Sgt Thomas asks.

  ‘I was attacked – mugged see,’ answers Caddoc sobbing, ‘there was three of the buggers!’

  ‘Three!’ repeats Sgt Thomas with surprise….. ‘can you give me a description?’

  Caddoc thought for a moment: he was used to lying and being believed. “If people believed his lies – they will surely believe his truths – after all it really happened! They just had to believe the truth – no matter how strange.” ‘They were dark, short and hairy – they had a sharp claw inside their legs, they stank….. And they kept gobbing on me!’

  Caddoc Morgan lifted his shirt and exposed his pallid, flabby love-handles which were covered in scratches. Once he had started, Caddoc could not stop his mouth or the streaming tears. ‘One jumped on my back and clung on – see!’

  ‘Aha,’ says Sgt Thomas, “a Cling-on” – was it, you have been watching too much Star-Trek Caddoc!’

  Caddoc ignored the policeman’s jibe and continued. ‘They took turns riding me – stuck their dirty fat smelly fingers in my gob and rode me like a bloody donkey – up and down the mountainside. When I was knackered, one bit my leg, then they mugged me…. stole my hundred quid mobile and my sweets!’ ‘Sweets! Did you say?’ repeats Sgt Thomas: writing everything down.

  ‘Don’t worry my cariad; Mam will get you another mobile,’ Mrs. Morgan consoles. ‘And then,’ continues Caddoc, they gave me a bloody good bashing.’

  Doctor Tudor Ellis examines Caddoc’s leg. ‘A bite all right,’ he confirms, ‘a big dog bite! That means a painful course of rabies injections, I’m afraid Caddoc,’ says the doctor preparing an overlarge syringe!

  ‘It was not a dog stupid,’ screams Caddoc, ‘how could a dog stick its smelly fingers in my gob and mug me?’

  The doctor and the policeman regard Caddoc with obvious distain.

  ‘There was also a small person – a kind of bug that could fly!’ Caddoc regretted saying this immediately – he had now overdone the truth.

  ‘I see,’ says Sgt
Thomas, putting away his note book. ‘There is not much I can do if the “little people” were involved.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ snaps Caddoc angrily; for once when he was telling the truth, he was being ridiculed. ‘Look,’ shouts Caddoc pulling down his trousers and mooning the two professionals, ‘it stung me on the arse!’

  Dr Tudor Ellis inspects the red-inflamed sting. ‘Dear me!’ he exclaims, ‘I have only ever seen similar stings before – when the twins from Bryn-y-Afon went bird nesting in the high glade.’

  ‘See – I told you,’ says Caddoc. ‘I saw it lower its arse – and sting me!’

  ‘It was probably a very large hornet,’ suggests Dr Tudor Ellis…. ‘there are some on the mountain.’

  ‘It was not a bloody hornet,’ snaps Caddoc, ‘it was a foot long…. I saw its face grinning at me!’

  ‘Look Mrs. Morgan,’ concludes Dr Tudor Ellis, ‘Caddoc has been attacked by a big dog…..then stung by a very large hornet!’

  ‘How can a large dog give my Caddoc two black eyes?’ snaps Mrs. Morgan…. ‘Answer that Dr Tudor Ellis!’

  ‘It was probably a big boxer dog Mrs. Morgan,’ answers Sgt Thomas, with a smirk.

  ‘That’s not funny Thomas Thomas,’ Mrs. Morgan scolds.

  ‘A stray boxer dog has been reported wandering about,’ Sgt Thomas replies. ‘Morgan the Milk!’ Mrs. Morgan orders. ‘Get your shotgun and go after that stray boxer dog!’

  ‘Now then Mrs. Morgan,’ says Sgt Thomas, ‘we don’t want Morgan the Milk wandering around at night with a loaded shotgun!’

  ‘I don’t have any cartridges anyway,’ replies Morgan the Milk lifting his head from the Sporting Life and rolling a cigarette.

  ‘Or a gun license!’ adds Sgt Thomas.

  ‘Look here lad,’ says the policeman, leaning over Caddoc. ‘I cannot write this rubbish down, I would be the laughing stock of Tala Pandy, and all of all Gwynedd and Powys…..all of Wales in fact……I need facts, see.’