Brilliant Short Stories

by Stan Mason

  ‘For Heaven’s sake, try to remember, Mariana!’ she scolded herself, reaching deeply into the labyrinths of her brain. ‘Try, try, try to remember!’

  And then it came! There had been an incident one morning where she was about to enter the school playground. Alice Raines had grabbed hold of the shoulder of her uniform pushing her forwards on to the school railings. The bully then ventured forward but suddenly froze in her tracks. She left Mariana laying helplessly against the iron prongs before walking slowly into school as though nothing had happened. But it had. Normally, the bully would press her mean advantage home, savaging the younger pupil to make her life a misery but she didn’t on this occasion and the reason had to be that she was afraid of railings and spikes. The incident had been lost in memory over the years but now its importance suddenly became significant. It was quite clear that Alice Raines suffered from the phobia of being near railings and spikes! How fortunate for Mariana to have been able to recall such an incident over forty years later. Not only that, but she could now turn it to her advantage.

  Later that afternoon, she went to the local hardware shop to buy a host of stakes with pointed tops and a mallet to drive them all round the sand dune she favoured so much. That would put an end to Alice Raine’s game! She found a series of green staves, together with a rubber mallet and a roll of wire netting. After making the purchases, she arranged for the goods to be delivered to the part of the beach she intended for their use. Slowly and deeply, she buried the lower lengths of the staves into the loose shifting sand at distances of eighteen inches apart and then secured them tightly with the wire netting. When she had finished, she stood back to examine her handiwork and brushed the sand off her hands with great satisfaction lighting up her face. She was fully convinced that the railings with spikes on top would stop Alice Raines from sitting there in the future. Subsequently, on the following morning, carrying her fold-up chair and daily newspaper, she sauntered along the beach to her favourite place confident that she would find it empty. When she arrived there, however, she stopped in her tracks. The woman was sitting comfortably on a portable chair behind the palisade writing on a large notepad. For a few moments Mariana became lost for words, seeing her old enemy relaxing when, according to the incident she had recalled from the past, the woman should have shunned the place like the plague. Eventually, when she had recovered and her vocal chords returned to normality, she challenged the woman.

  ‘I thought you had a phobia about fences, railings and spikes,’ she declared candidly, although she didn’t really know why she was expressing her views.

  ‘Really,’ retorted the other woman. ‘Then I take it you’re the fool who put up this stupid fence.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, Alice. I remember the time when you pushed me against the railings at Rossingham Major. You had me at your mercy but you failed to do anything further and went inside to the classrooms. I assumed it was because you had a fear of railings and spikes.’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. Would you mind going away and leaving me in peace? I have things to do!’

  ‘That’s what you’d like, wouldn’t you, Alice. For me to forget all those awful things you did to me. Live frogs placed in my desk, pushing me around in the playground every day, throwing chemicals on to my shoes in the school laboratory which destroyed them causing me trouble with my parents who thought I had done it, frightening me in the dark corridor leading to the social studies class, taking my books away from me before they were to be submitted so that I received one detention after another for not doing my homework when I’d already done it. Yes, and there were many other things. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten anything in the last forty years. You made my school life sheer hell. Sheer hell!’

  ‘Will you go away and leave me alone!’ The woman’s voice was tinged with an element of anger. ‘I didn’t come here to listen to you grousing about your past school life!’

  ‘I recognised you instantly,’ continued Mariana. ‘Do you know that? Your face has been etched in my mind since those early awful days. The moment I saw you I knew you were Alice Raines... the school bully. Mind you, you’ve lost some weight and you’ve got a few wrinkles, but it’s the same face. I’d know it anywhere. Anywhere!’

  ‘Go away!’ The tone became an order to be obeyed. In fact it was so forceful that all the horrors of her schooldays flooded back into Mariana’s mind in a flash.

  ‘Very well,’ she managed to say, intending to go on to another sand dune a little further down the beach. ‘You’ve got over your phobia of railings and spikes but I’ll recall another of your weaknesses and then you’d better watch out.’

  She sauntered off across the sand with her head held high in the air although she had to admit to herself that she was disappointed her ruse had failed to prevent the other woman from sitting in her favourite place. Perhaps the bully never had a phobia of railings and spikes after all, but it had been worth testing her out.

  She pitched her chair in the folding sand and sat down comfortably, sunning herself pleasantly. It was so nice being warm when everyone at home in England was beginning to feel the pangs of winter. However, she was annoyed at having lost her precious place on the beach and she muttered and twitched at the outcome. There had to be a way of getting to the woman... a means by which she would scare her off. Water pistols! Alice Raines was afraid of water pistols. Not terrified, mind you. She simply didn’t like anyone pointing them at her face and squirting the liquid at her. But then no one did really... not even for a prank! It was a method unlikely to succeed but, nonetheless, she decided to use the ploy against her old enemy anyway.

  She saw the woman in the dining room of the hotel that evening and they eyed each other suspiciously from a distance.

  ‘The impudence of that Alice Baines,’ thought Mariana with fury welling-up inside her. ‘Pretending that she doesn’t know me or understand what I’m saying! After so many years, she’s probably ashamed of her conduct at school and prefers to put it to the back of her mind. Well I’ll show her. I’ll soon bring it to the fore again!’

  They didn’t speak to each other during the whole evening which was just as well because Mariana believed that she would not have been able to control her temper had they confronted each other. On the following morning, she went down to the beach holding a long barrelled water pistol in her right hand and her fold-up chair and daily newspaper in the other. The game had turned into something like Dodge City! Wyatt Earp against the Clantons! The sun shone brilliantly from a perfectly blue sky and the soft breeze fanned her face gently. She moved slowly towards the sand dune to face the other woman boldly. The railings and had been withdrawn and, together with the netting, they had been placed neatly on one side giving Mariana the impression that perhaps she had been right about the bully’s phobia. The woman sat quite still with a pen in her hand, continuing to write on the large notepad, with two folders full of paper resting on the sand beside the chair.

  ‘You’re still here then?’ she questioned angrily when they came face to face.

  ‘Go away, you silly woman!’ came the reply. ‘You’re getting on my nerves! Go away and stop bothering me!’

  ‘Well give me back my sand dune. I was here first.’

  ‘What are you talking about? There are dozens of sand dunes you can use on this beach. Why do you want this one? Are you deliberately trying to annoy me?’

  ‘This is my favourite place. It’s mine. I use it all the time. Anyway, I was here first!’

  ‘Don’t be so childish. You’re ridiculous! Go away!’

  Mariana stood quite still for nearly a full minute as though expecting the other woman to change her mind, then she pointed the water pistol menacingly at her face. ‘If you don’t leave this sand dune immediately, I’ll shoot you!’ she threatened, her face puckering up into a scowl.

  ‘You’re raving mad!’ came the reply. ‘
Raving mad! What are you going to do? Shoot me dead for a place in the sun when there’s all this beach around?’

  ‘I told you to get up and leave here immediately.’ Mariana gritted her teeth as her face turned into a snarl.

  ‘You cut a very ridiculous figure,’ retorted the woman calmly in the face of adversity. Without hesitation, Mariana pressed the trigger allowing water to squirt out directly on to the woman’s face. The victim sat staring at her attacker for a moment in disbelief and then wiped off the liquid with a tissue shaking her head. ‘You’re a very sad case, do you know that? A very sad case. Now you’ve had your fun. Please go away!’

  Realising it was a forlorn hope to get the woman to move, Mariana lowered the water pistol before turning on her heel to go to the next sand dune so that she could relax in the sun. There had to be something more that she remembered about Alice Raines! Something that the bully really feared! She thought about it hard and long before coming to a conclusion. The bully always sneaked on her to the headmaster, the teachers and her friends. It was time she returned the favour. Without hesitation, she returned to the hotel, picked up the telephone and dialled the number of the local police station. In Monte Gordo, crime was practically non-existent. The only felons were the tourists who visited the resort. Therefore, only one policeman was in attendance, sitting on a large chair with his feet up on the desk, smoking a cigarette.

  ‘I want to make a complaint,’ began Mariana firmly down the line to the policeman who spoke fluent English. ‘There’s a woman on the third sand dune past the Hotel Vasco da Gama who’s laying there in the nude. She’s been dancing up and down with no clothes on and a number of men have come round to look at her. I think there’s going to be trouble.’

  After stating her claim, she hung up before the policeman could ask her identity or, in fact, request anything else.

  Half an hour later, a police vehicle turned up at the hotel and two officers in uniform alighted. They walked down to the beach until they came to the third sand dune, staring bleakly at the woman who was still sitting quietly writing in her notepad.

  ‘We have had a complaint that you are subathing here in the nude,’ began the first officer dumbly, staring at her clothes.

  The woman looked up at them blankly. ‘Does it look like I’m in the nude?’ she demanded curtly. ‘As you can see, I’m fully dressed and have been that way since I came on the beach. Tell me, was the complaint made by a woman?’

  ‘Yes,’ returned the officer. ‘It was made by a woman.’

  ‘It’s that mad witch who keeps bothering me every day. She seems to think she owns this sand dune. I can’t for the life of me understand why! Anyhow, I assure you I am not bathing here in the nude, as you can see. And I suggest you ignore any further complaints about me from a woman.’

  The policemen shrugged their shoulders and, after a brief discussion, left the beach. Mariana smiled at the incident believing that she had caused the woman some discomfort. The Germans had a name for it... schadenfreude... malicious delight caused by another’s unhappiness or misfortune. Well, although it was incidental, she certainly had Alice Raines worried for a while and at the same time she had got some of her own back! What next? What else could she do to repay the bully for two years of harsh suffering at school. Alice Raines was always taking books and papers from her, often dispatching them around in places where they were difficult to recover. Well she would do exactly the same to her! She would take all her papers and dispose of them in the same way! Leaving her newspaper and chair in the sand dune, she made her way back to her favourite place. The woman was still writing on the large notepad and she had lots of papers by her side in two full folders. It was too much of an opportunity to miss. Mariana soon arrived at the sand dune. The woman was engrossed in her writing and didn’t notice that she had returned. In one fell swoop, she dashed forward to pick up the two folders and snatched the notepad from the woman’s hand. Immediately, she turned and raced down the beach towards the hotel clutching her prize in her hands. There was a short pause before the woman realised what had happened and she got to her feet to chase the culprit. Indeed, she was extremely fleet of foot because she soon caught up with Mariana to fell her with a rugby tackle that would have brought the crowds to their feet had it been on the ground at Twickenham.

  ‘You lunatic!’ snarled the woman angrily, retrieving the documents by tearing them out of Mariana’s hands. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’

  ‘What’s the problem, Alice? You did it to me every week of my school days,’ she retorted bitterly. ‘It’s not too late for you to understand what it felt like.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ shouted the woman. ‘You make no sense at all! First, you complain I’m sitting in your sand dune when there are dozens of them along the beach. Then you put up railings and a fence there, following up with a veiled threat that you’ll shoot me with a water pistol! And now you steal my papers! What’s the matter with you, woman?’

  ‘See! You don’t like it!’ returned Mariana with a grin on her face. ‘I knew it. All you bullies are alike. You’re cowards, that’s what you are!’

  The woman shook her head sadly and turned to go back to the sand dune. She kept looking over her shoulder, especially when she saw that Mariana was following her, but the chase had ended for the moment. Mrs. Ffoulkes only intended only to recover her portable chair and her newspaper. However, she felt she could claim a victory and remained jubilant especially when she passed the sand dune again.

  ‘For heaven’s sake!’ blasphemed the woman angrily. ‘If you’re so damned-well intent on sitting in this God-forsaken sand dune, then have it. Have it! I’m sick of seeing your face scowling at me all the time and all the rhetoric!’ She picked up her portable chair and stalked off in the direction of the hotel holding her files and notepad tightly in her hand.

  On the following morning, after breakfast, Mariana went directly to the reception counter of the hotel.

  ‘Can you tell me which room Alice Raines is in, please?’ she asked politely, having already planned her next prank on the unfortunate woman. She had got the bit between her teeth and was unwilling to let go.

  The receptionist played with the keys on the computer, staring at the screen for a while. ‘I’m sorry,’ she replied in perfect English, ‘but we do not have anyone of that name staying at this ‘otel.’

  Mariana stamped her foot in a childish temper. ‘Damn!’ she swore in a whisper. ‘I wonder if she got married and changed her name. I wonder. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring but it may have been that she did marry, changed her name, and then got divorced at a later date.’

  As she stood there pondering the point, the woman emerged from the lift, struggling with two large leather suitcases which she pushed awkwardly into the hallway.

  ‘That’s the woman!’ whispered Mariana to the receptionist. ‘She obviously leaving today so you know who she is. What name does she go under now?’

  ‘That’s Miss Fiona Richards, the famous authoress,’ replied the receptionist easily with a smile on her face. ‘She wrote the books ‘Words of Wisdom’ and ‘No Regrets’. They’ve been translated into Portuguese. We’ve all read them here.’

  ‘Miss Fiona... ’ Mariana’s voice tailed off into the distance. ‘You mean she’s not Alice Raines?’

  ‘We don’t have an Alice Raines staying at the ‘otel.’

  ‘Do you know if Miss Richards ever married?’

  ‘No, she made it quite clear recently on a television programme about her that she has never cared for men.’

  Mariana turned and her eyes met those of Fiona Richards who glowered angrily, determined to avoid yet another nasty confrontation. ‘You’re not Alice Raines are you? You didn’t go to Rossingham Major, did you?’ Her voice was low with a very apologetic tone.

  ‘I certainly did not!’ exclaimed the
authoress curtly. ‘You assumed I was Alice Raines, your school bully, from the start but the truth is that I’m not her and we had never met each other before the other day. I’m positive of that. However, if revenge was in your mind, I hope that you got some of the angst out of your system... if nothing else!’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry. Really, I’m very sorry,’ apologised Mariana profusely.

  The woman snorted and shook her head. ‘Well I haven’t got time to talk to you. My coach is here. I’m off to England!’

  She rolled her suitcases on their wheels out of the front door to the man who was loading luggage on to the coach. Ten minutes later, the coach started up and she was gone. Mariana slumped into a seat in the hotel lounge contemplating all that had gone on before. She had been so certain the woman was her old school bully. Nothing would ever have shifted the idea from her mind. It all seemed to fit in so perfectly. The woman’s age, her face... yet she had turned out to be someone quite different. Later on, Mariana decided to have a couple of large gins to soften the blow at having been made to look such a complete fool. In fact, by the time the evening ended, she would have many large gins to help her forget the whole incident. At least she had learned two very important things. Firstly, it was pointless to hold a grudge, especially after more than forty years and, secondly, one should never assume anything in life. Not anything! Not anything!!!

  The Guru

  Colin Meredith was a country boy, living in the wilds of Cornwall but he had a brilliant business brain. Consequently, his father recognised his son’s acumen from an early age and sent him to Bennington Commercial College after he left comprehensive school. The young man was almost twenty years of age when he left Bennington which was a distinguished high-grade teaching establishment, the equivalent of a university, dealing with all aspects of commercial, business and corporate matters. The instructors were highly-qualified teachers too, for when the young man finished his final year, he had been conditioned to feel sufficiently mentally fit to win every battle in the commercial world regardless of its complexity or importance. However, such attitudes in final students were not unusual for, in normal circumstances, young people often tend to believe they know it all. Not to be an exception to the rule, he considered that he knew practically everything about commerce and business there was to be known. Worse still, he believed he was ready to go out into the world and make his living as a successful executive bringing his new ideas to any corporation willing to employ him in that capacity. However, his father, who owned three retail grocery shops in the locality, recognised that there was far more to business education than the information imparted to his son at Bennington Commercial College for an executive to be truly successful. After his son had completed the final part of the course and enjoyed a short break as a reward, he approached him one day to present him with a proposition.