Appollinaire: (The Other Side of Nowhere)

by Robert William Saul Harvey

  Fight or flight?

  Fight with what?

  Flight to where?

  The relatively short, thick grass tended to provide some cover, but Pol was under no illusion; the bird, or whatever it was, had not gone away, it was simply hiding, biding its time, waiting for him to make a mistake. It had simply missed its target when Pol had instinctively ducked.

  Even though Pol could not see the bird, the bird might be able to see him. Be repositioning. Getting ready for another attack.

  Pol glanced up and carefully surveyed the sky. Worried how the bird might swoop down on him when he was not looking. Worried how he might be able to evade capture. Breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the small dark spot circling high overhead. Acknowledged this had to be the same bird, which had attacked him. As he watched, something else, equally frightening, grabbed his attention.

  “Eh?” he gasped. Reeled back in surprise. “No!”

  ‘Blue sky!’

  “Blue!”

  Stared in disbelief.

  ‘Where the heck have all the gray clouds gone? It was threatening to rain a few minutes ago. Now the clouds have disappeared and the sky’s all clear.’

  A renewed panic gripped his heart.

  “No!”

  He scrabbled backwards on his backside, with his hands and feet frantically paddling on the ground. Tough grass bent beneath and brushed around his body as he unheedingly tried to propel himself away from the reality of his situation. He did not get far. Within a few yards, he came up against a large rock. The rock halted him in his tracks. Pain shot down his spine and across his shoulders. The shock of hitting the rock forced the air from his lungs. The air exited his mouth by way of a strangled cry.

  “Aaargh!”

  Terrified he might have been caught by a different animal Pol crouched down and waited for the feel of sharp teeth biting into the back of his neck. When nothing happened, he fearfully looked over his right shoulder, expecting to see either, the bird or some other fearsome creature looming over him. Relief flooded his mind when he saw the rock.

  Sitting with his back up against the rock, he stared, wild eyed, up at the sky. Tried to locate the small spec whilst at the same time confirming the state of the sky.

  The spec was still there. So was the blue sky.

  ‘This isn’t right. The weather can’t change just like that!’

  Tears clouded his vision and he quietly mumbled, “What the shit’s happened to me...?”

  Chapter 21

  “This is bloody stupid. I must be dreaming. Unless I’m going gaga. Things like this don’t happen in real life.”

  ‘They just don’t.’

  He made a little disbelieving laugh,

  “Ha!”

  Slowly shook his head from side to side.

  “Everyone knows the weather can’t change suddenly like that, literally, in the blink of an eye.”

  ‘It can’t.’

  “I know it can’t.”

  ‘Sure, everyone knows how clouds move across the sky; one minute it’s dull and misty, then the sun shines through, and a moment later, it can be pouring with rain. Before you know it, the sun’s shining again.’

  But,

  This was different.

  “The whole sky can’t just change in an instant,” he reasoned.

  ‘No way.’

  “Nor can a whole landscape change suddenly.”

  A deep frown creased his forehead and, forgetting about the bird for a moment; he leaned forward. Gripped his head in his hands. Screwed up his eyes and made a faint groan.

  ‘And where’s the sodding lane gone?’

  He balled his fists and pressed them to his temples.

  ‘I only ran a short way into the field. None of this makes any sense.’

  Shook his head and pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes tightly closed.

  ‘None of it. It’s as if I’ve stepped through a door and landed in a different dimension, or something.’

  Pol’s eyes flew open, wide with astonishment.

  The idea, incredible as it seemed, had hit a chord in the back of his mind. All those hours of watching Sci-Fi films on TV must have planted something deep within his brain and he recoiled in horror.

  ‘Oh, bugger!’

  His mouth formed a large ‘O’ when the thought of him being stranded, all alone, in this—what—strange dimension, nether-world, or alternate universe, filled his mind.

  Being hunted down by some huge bird-like creature might be the least of his worries if this were true. There might be all sorts of other weird creatures prowling around nearby, any of which might be capable of ripping him to pieces in an instant. Any number of poisonous insects, snakes, microbes, or viruses ready to turn him into a stinking puddle of festering pink goo. Wondered if there might be anything else stalking him nearby, something like a wolf, or a saber-toothed tiger. The horrible thought; somehow, he might end up as a heap of sun-bleached bones almost sent him into a blind panic.

  “No!”

  A picture of an unfortunate antelope being ripped to shreds by a pride of hungry lions filled his mind and he suddenly wanted to make a dash for it, run—anywhere away from this place.

  ‘No!’

  He tightly balled his fists in front of his closed eyes and tried to shake the picture from his mind. Fear and anger rapidly faded when another thought occurred to him—Tinker!

  Staring wildly around with tear-filled eyes, he blubbered, “Tinker. Come on, boy. Where the shit, are you...?”

  Chapter 22

  Joan was not in a good mood. Not at all. She had only been waiting for one number, for well over a minute. One number to win the national jackpot.

  One number!

  But,

  It was not to be. The caller had carried on pulling the small white balls out of the blow tube at the top of the Plexiglas dome, one after the other, until the fat, slovenly cow who lived almost directly over the road had called, “House.”

  ‘At least she’s too late for the jackpot,’ thought Joan at the time. ‘Serves the cow right.’

  Nothing like being magnanimous in defeat.

  ‘Bitch!’

  To top it all, when Joan got home and walked into the living room, the sight of Ted, fat as ever, fast asleep in his armchair, confronted her. Head lolled to one side, mouth agape and drunken loud snores rending the air.

  ‘Great. That’s all I need.’

  After throwing a look of disgust at her sleeping husband, Joan crossed the room and exited via the doorway to the stairs.

  ‘Sod him. He can stay there all night for all I care.’

  She trudged up the stairs with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Paused on the landing for a second as she half-thought about peeking into the other bedroom to check whether Appollinaire had returned home yet.

  Decided not to.

  ‘Nah. I didn’t see the dog in its bed.’

  She continued with a heavy heart along the hall towards her own bedroom...

  Chapter 23

  Once he managed to regain some composure, Pol pushed the idea of other dimensions and weird planets to the back of his mind. Forced his mind to concentrate on the moment. Could not afford the distraction.

  ‘I can tell the sodding bird isn’t going to go away anytime soon, especially not while I’m stuck out here in the open. I know the bloody thing wants to eat me! I only hope it doesn’t have very good eyesight. With luck, it can’t see me. And, if I keep still, it won’t come any nearer.’

  Reluctantly, Pol dragged his eyes away from the circling bird for a moment and tried to focus on his immediate surroundings.

  Whilst realizing the dry grass, which crowded around his body, would offer almost total concealment if he were to lie down, without the rock at his back it would provide little actual defense should the bird-thing make up its mind to attack again.

  He was at a loss as to what to do next.

  Although he wanted to get up and try to retrace
his steps back to the lane Pol knew he really ought to be looking for a place of safety, where he could hide away, at least until he was able to figure out which way was home.

  The thought of home, boring and miserable as it was, created a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sent a shudder through his body. Just then, he would have done almost anything to wake up to find he was back in his own bed, curled up between the sheets safe and sound.

  Staring down at his shaking hands, his vision blurred as more tears began to form in his eyes. In his mind, someone told him not to be such a baby.

  ‘Mum!’

  The sudden thought, unbidden, jolted him back to reality.

  ‘Ugh!’

  “Why did I think of her, the old bat doesn’t care what happens to me?”

  Taking a deep breath, Pol tried to control the nervous shivers coursing through his body. The sound of his chattering teeth gatecrashed his thoughts. Diverted his attention from thoughts of home and refocused his mind to the nasty idea he might soon be ending up as some funny looking bird’s dinner.

  Pol deliberately bit into his tongue, though not hard enough to draw blood. The pain was sufficient to bring his mind back into focus. Allowed him to regain some control of his senses. A few longer, slow, deep breaths helped to steady his mind.

  ‘Keep calm you bloody fool. Have to keep control. Don’t lose it. Steady.’

  In control again, Pol raised his head slightly and warily peered around. The small dark spec was still lazily circling high overhead. For some reason, he thought the creature might be a bit shortsighted and might not able to see him from such a height. For a bird of prey, such a thing would be a distinct disadvantage. Deduced the bird was probably biding its time knowing he had nowhere to run. Was most likely scanning the area waiting for him to make a move then, it would make its move, and he would be history. For this reason, Pol remained motionless. Moved only his eyes as he continued to take stock of his surroundings.

  A few funny-looking trees over to his right. Nothing else close by. Above him, only sky. Around him, only grass.

  ‘Clear blue sky? And, where’s all this bloody weird grass come from?’ he wondered. ‘It’s a bloody funny colour, thick, with wide yellow and narrow green stripes, and I don’t remember seeing anything like this in any of the fields we passed earlier.’

  “This’s bloody mad, totally sodding crazy.”

  He pushed a finger into the collar of his shirt. Slowly rubbed his finger around his neck, conscious of the fact the bird might still be watching him.

  ‘And, the weather’s gone all wappy.’

  “I must be cracking up. Phew!”

  ‘It’s bloody red hot!’

  Peered anxiously up at the sky. Hoped the bird hadn’t noticed his movements. Yes. The thing was still there. Still circling around in the sky.

  But, it appeared a bit bigger than it had a few moments ago.

  ‘Bugger. It looks as if it’s come down lower!’

  Pol shuddered when details of a half-forgotten dream crept into his mind, something about a lizard and a river.

  “Shoosh.”

  ‘No! Surely not.’

  He glared up at the bird.

  “You ain’t going to get me, you bugger, not if I can help it...”

  Chapter 24

  Sweat seeped out from every pore of Pol’s body. His shirt stuck to his skin. Boxer shorts chafed the area around his scrotum and along the crack of his backside. Even though the discomfort was annoying, he did nothing to try to relieve the itching. Had no intention of moving or standing up to remove his fleece, at least not until he considered it was safe to do so.

  “What the hell is that thing?” he muttered quietly, as he watched the bird through slitted eyes. Used his right hand to shield his eyes against the blinding light from the sun overhead. Wished the pounding of his heart would slow down a bit.

  For a heart-stopping moment, he feared he could hear something creeping up on him from behind.

  ‘Something’s whooshing through the grass!’

  Turning his head, Pol expected to see the towering form of some giant predator, but he saw nothing. Heaved a sigh of relief. Shook his head, as if to clear it, but the whooshing sound continued. He relaxed slightly when he realized the sound was that of his blood rushing through the veins in and around his ears. The noise was being picked up by his aural functions.

  With sagging shoulders, he thought, ‘This’s shit. I’m going to end up having a heart attack, or a stroke, if I carry on like this.’

  He carefully allowed his body to slump forward. Wrapped his arms around his head whilst he angrily growled through gritted teeth in a futile attempt to calm the demons in his mind. It might help if he were able stop himself from trembling like a little girl. Stop tears from forming in his eyes. Stop his teeth from chattering. And, stop the agonizing cramps, which had a tight grip on his stomach. The same cramps that threatened to shove what was left of his breakfast back up the way it had gone down.

  Pol had never been so frightened in his whole life.

  Never!

  And he wished he knew what to do about it.

  After a few minutes of uncontrolled sobbing and dry retching, Pol finally began to calm down. Some form of sanity returned as he slowly inhaled a few measured, deep breaths. The kind of feeling one might get when waking of a morning, realize it was a Saturday. No work. Have a lie-in and relax. Everything was ok.

  Now, if he could stay calm for a while, he ought to be able to become organized.

  Decided he needed to make a move. Needed to find somewhere safe to hide whilst he tried to sort out his mind.

  He was about to raise his head above the grass, to have another look around, when something in the distance...

  “‘Caaawww!’”

  The shrill noise pierced his thoughts. Sent another shiver coursing down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end, and he cowered down on the ground.

  “Shit!”

  ‘Crow?’

  “Does it sound like a crow?” he wondered. Fearfully scanned the sky, trying to determine from which direction the cry had come.

  Couldn’t see anything.

  The circling dark spot had disappeared again.

  ‘Where the bugger has it gone now?’

  Crow.

  ‘It’s got to be a crow. Must be a crow. It definitely sounded like a caw. Like a crow, but not exactly like a crow. Louder than a crow. Much louder and a whole lot scarier as well. A whole heap of shit louder, and a hundred times scarier.’

  If he had to write the word ‘cawed’ down on a sheet of paper, the way it had sounded just then, he would write it in gigantic capital letters, bold script, in wavy italics, and he would underline the word. Might even add some quotation marks. Would definitely add one or two exclamation marks.

  “‘Caaawww!’”

  Despite the heat, Pol shivered violently, and his heart missed a beat, or two.

  ‘There it goes again.’

  Freezing with fear, Pol remained rooted to the spot. Kept his head down below the top of the surrounding grass.

  “Sod this,” he whispered shakily. Tried to visualize the size of the thing when it had swooped past his head. Could not remember. It had all happened too quickly for his simple brain to register the details.

  ‘If the thing making yon God-awful racket is a bird, it’s got to be a bloody big bird, a sodding enormous bird.’

  Something much bigger than he could imagine.

  Pol expected, at any moment to feel the pain of sharp talons, claws, digging into the back of his neck. Almost expected the ‘thing’ to rip his head from his shoulders.

  But,

  It did not happen.

  The seconds ticked slowly by.

  Still, nothing happened.

  He inhaled, deeply, and held his breath.

  “This’s not a sodding horror film,” he whispered as he tried to reassure himself.

  Eventually, Pol allowed his breath to
escape silently through slightly parted lips, afraid, in case the flying creature should home in on any sound he might make.

  ‘Bugger. Don’t worry, son. It’s only a stupid crow. Just an everyday, common old crow. It just sounds a bit bigger than average. It can’t hurt you, you daft git.’

  Pol tried to make a laugh. An attempt at self-reassurance.

  Failed miserably.

  ‘I’m not scared of a bloody stupid bird.’

  “Huh. Another day, I’d throw rocks at it. Chase it away without a second thought.”

  ‘Great.’

  Trembling violently, he closed his eyes. Made a frightened, screwed-up face, the way he would if he were trying to squeeze an extra-hard turd from his over-tight anus.

  ‘I’m not frightened.’

  “Grrr.”

  ‘I know I’m not!’

  “I’m not,” he whispered...

  Chapter 25

  Time appeared to stand still as Pol waited in silence. Listened. Strained to catch the sound of its beating wings.

  ‘Nah.’

  Nothing. Not even a twitter or cheep.

  Daring to turn his head, he peeked up at the sky.

  All clear.

  Pol hoped, almost prayed the bird thing had finally given up and flown away. He wanted it gone.

  He gradually allowed the air to seep from his lungs, aware he had been holding his breath for the last two minutes.

  ‘It must be gone by now. Might have been telling me goodbye when it shouted just now.’

  Yeah. Right.

  “That’s it. The stupid bird can’t find me so it’s got fed up and gone home,” he sighed.

  ‘Please say it’s gone.’

  “Of course it has.”

  Being a self-proclaimed atheist Pol did not believe in prayer so he tended to talk quietly to his inner-self instead. This way, he would at least get a fair hearing, even if the answers were sometimes a bit far-fetched.

  “Please, please, please be gone.”

  ‘Sod off!’

  Not the answer he wanted.

  Pol stayed where he was. Remained motionless whilst he waited for time to start up again. Mentally counted off the seconds. Allowed plenty of time for his heart to calm down. Took deep, measured breaths. Counted slowly backwards from ten down to one.