Parallel II - The Gift

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Parallel II - The Gift Page 25

by Paul Rice


  He promised to show them around the place any time they wanted. “That’s if’n yo’all wanna come-on back o’ course?” They said they would and he believed them. He enjoyed their company, and whilst his three new friends sat politely and asked him about things, Red let the words pour out in their direction. They were so nice and he felt yet another new sensation, for the first time in his short life the young man felt friendship. Later, after they had done with the fishing, they all sat upon the banks of the little blue lake and ate some of the apples, which Red insisted they try. “They’re just the finest yoo’ll get anywhere’s aroun’ here!” He said, through a mouthful of the crunchy fruit.

  He was right, they were delicious.

  They had also been very successful with their fishing. Mike was an expert and had caught twice as many as Red and Ken. Ken laughed out loud and said something about Mike and his magic, Red didn’t know what they were laughing about but he made them put the fish back as soon as they had landed and unhooked the flapping creatures. “I have enuff food for a month, let them be free and then maybe’s we’ll keep a few next time, huh?” They agreed, and as they pushed the slippery fish back into the water, Red caught a glimpse of Jane smiling at her husband. “She knows what I mean, she knows and she’s good, I like her, yessir – I like this lady with a whole heap o’ like!” His happy thoughts fetched another big smile to his face.

  Dusk approached, slowly releasing the long shadows of an advancing night that began their inevitable victory march over the remnants of the day. Sitting underneath the apple tree, they watched as the sky began to darken in surrender, looking up, Jane said that maybe they should be getting back? All the men agreed and everyone rallied round to help Ken pack the fishing equipment into the back of his truck. Whilst Jane drove, the three men sat in the back of the pickup, laughing and joking as they bumped their way back to the farmhouse. Red pointed things out to them along the way, his huge hand pointed out the old windmill over in the distance, now sitting and dying on the horizon, its dilapidated blades motionless without any sails to catch the plentiful wind. “My Gran’pappy used that ol girl, I seen the fotografs of when he made bread with the stone wheel… It’s a fine place, I been up there many a times. There are thangs to draw up there, lots o’ thangs!” Red hairs glistened on the back of his hand as he waved it towards the skeletal building. The men smiled at him and listened as the young man’s commentary rolled on. He pointed to a river over by the windmill and then to woods, which lay darkly against the side of a sloping gully in the distance over to their left. Ken saw a large flock of starlings soaring downwards as they came in to roost for the night; their homecoming aerial dance looked like a seething black whirlpool in the distance.

  The truck soon reached the house and once they’d stopped outside the house, Red suggested that perhaps they should leave their gear in the barn: “It’ll be Okay in there, there ain’t anybody here but me anyways, an’ yo’all gonna be coming back, ain’t ya?” He pronounced the words more carefully now, and also tried to hide the pleading tone that had begun to creep into his own voice.

  Ken grinned and said, “Well yeah, we’d love to, Red…. that’s if we’re welcome?” He dumped the rods in the barn and looked at the boy. Red said of course they were, he’d never had such a fine day in his entire life and then, just before they left, Mike made it even better by taking Red into the kitchen and showing him how to use the refrigerator.

  “Just plug it in,” he said. “Put the stuff you want to keep cool on those shelves, and then pour some water in there.” He pointed at the spout. “Then tomorrow when you get up, you’ll have a nice supply of ice cubes. They’d go pretty good with that apple juice?” He winked at Red and the boy grinned so widely that it looked as though his teeth went from ear to ear.

  Jane jostled Mike out of the way and showed Red where to pack things into the big white cooler. When they were done she reminded him: “Just make sure that you always shut the door when you’ve used it, honey, OK?” He smiled and said he would. Red quite liked being Jane’s ‘honey’. He guessed that she, like Mrs Jones, made him feel like someone’s Momma would make them feel? Walking out onto the porch, they turned to him and each said their own goodbyes. The men gripped his hand warmly and Jane even gave him a little hug, it made him freeze and he held her awkwardly, Red had never been hugged before, not ever.

  Standing under the wooden overhang of the porch, he watched as Ken started the old truck, and then with that sweet engine burbling, turned it around on the driveway. The man reached out of the window and gave him a wave. Red waved back. “Yo’all com’on back now, yoo hear?” The roar of the engine drowned out Ken’s reply. Red stood and watched as they raced towards the gate. Through the dust he could just see the pale shape of Jane’s face as she looked over her shoulder. He imagined he could see her smiling at him through the small rear window. He imagined right.

  Red stood looking at the truck as it disappeared into the distance; it was soon out of sight behind the trees that lined the track, so he waited and listened to the sound of the rumble as they crossed the final cattle-grid and just managed to hear the engine note as Ken finally accelerated away down the main road. Red scratched his head and swept the long red hair from his face. He missed them already and wistfully turned back towards the empty farmhouse to spend a few moments in tidying things away, there wasn’t much to do as Jane had done most of it already, so he opened the door of the cooler and then stood looking at the array of foodstuffs, which filled the shelves.

  “I…” he said out loud. “Sure is a lucky boy!”

  Later that night, in the depths of his sleep, he was proved to be right. A lucky, lucky boy indeed, one who dreamed of a young lady with shining red lips and long smooth legs, there wasn’t a green stone in sight and not even the slightest glimpse of any black whirlpools.

  Chapter 23 - Changing Red

  As they sat in the comfortable surroundings of the motorhome, or RV, as the salesman had called it. “It’s the only one of its kind this far south,” he’d said, “Its brand new and full o’ all the latest gadgets too, look at that cooker, ma’am!” It hadn’t taken them long to arrange payment. Two days later they had found a place to park and drove their new home to the peaceful surrounds of a hidden valley. Ken and Mike were each sipping on a cool beer whilst Jane flicked through the pages of a magazine. They’d been here for three weeks now and had met Red twice during that time. Yesterday had been the big fishing trip day, the day when they would try and see what he was like. See who the real Red was.

  “So, what do you think then; he seems like a nice kid, I guess?” Ken said, as he reached for his beer.

  Mike agreed. “Yeah, I like the guy, you know… he seems lonely and a bit behind the real world perhaps, but he’s smart, definitely smart?” Ken grunted in acknowledgment of Mike’s opinion.

  Jane looked up from her magazine. “I think we may have found the answer here, in fact, I know we’ve found the answer, he needs us and we need him. I vote we go and spend as much time with him as is possible. I mean, look at the state of that place!” She looked at Ken with raised eyebrows. He knew what she wanted and it did make sense.

  “Yeah, we could do the place up a bit, help out and make it better for him, the guy doesn’t even have a shower, I saw one of those tin baths out the back. I know it’s only 1997 but even so, he’s has got bugger all and yet he still seems happy. How the hell does he end up like he does in the dream?”

  That was a question that wouldn’t be answered for quite a while.

  Their transfer here had been faultless. The Spears had morphed again, only this time, instead of turning into a red van, they had become brown pickup trucks. There were no weird weapons and no pills, either. The only thing that worked in the trucks was their strange water-powered engines. All the other gadgets had ceased their magical functions. Ken had expressed concern over whether they were still impenetrable or not. Jane had looked at him and said, “Why, are we expecting a gun fight, d
arling?”

  He looked at her and then Mike; seeing only humour in his friend’s eyes, Ken had shook his head and grudgingly capitulated. “Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right, we aren’t in bloody Kandahar after all, are we?” All they had were the Spears, Mike’s Communicator and a road map. There was a sketch in the rear of the map. The sketch was finely drawn in pencil and had been done on the inside of the back cover. It was an intricately detailed picture of a pyramid and had written underneath it: ‘Look and you will see.’ The neat handwriting made Jane blink. It looked like her father’s writing and she stared at it again.

  “It is similar, but perhaps I’m still suffering from the effects of Shrink Down?” Actually, Jane preferred to think of it as ‘Zap Back’. “Yeah, we’ll just Zap Back twelve years and land in another country, shall we – some other time even… Zap Back and carry on as normal, who the hell signed me up for this!” She knew that things would take a while as George’s notes had warned them of this. They had said: ‘It’s going to take a while…’ He wasn’t kidding, either. The whole thing was crazy and Jane didn’t spend too long dwelling on the thought. The bags containing their belongings were present and correct, as were Jane’s painting things, and Ken’s guns. They had spent the first night in a Motel and then the next morning gone shopping in a town that lay fifty miles away, the trio didn’t want to be too conspicuous in the local town and splashing out on a motorhome may bring them unwanted attention. Jane had still been rather poorly, the transfer didn’t seem to have agreed with her and she spent the first few days feeling as though all she wanted to do was sleep. In fact, she could hardly remember the first time they had met Red. It was all just a blur.

  They gradually became familiar with some of the locals and did a bit of shopping here, or stopped in a diner there, perhaps. All small stuff, designed to help them find there feet and slowly become part of the scenery. It’s never easy when you’re new around town, new and foreign makes it even more difficult, but they took their time and slowly began to meld into the everyday way of life in the sleepy little town – Jane had hit it off right away with Mrs Jones from the local store. They’d made small talk when Jane had first popped in to purchase a few items, but now that her trips became more frequent, Mrs Jones… Maggie… had opened up a bit. She was surprised to hear that the trio knew Red. Jane explained about the ‘impromptu’ lift, which they had given the boy. Maggie had smiled and said, “Why, that’s mighty kind of you, very kind indeed! The one thing that child needs in his life is some kindness, yes, all he needs is some love in this world?” She then proceeded to tell Jane all about Red, right from his birth, and the tragic death of his mother, all the way through to the present day and how badly the boy’s father treated him. There wasn’t a lot Maggie didn’t know about Red. She grimaced when she talked of Red’s father. “He never used to be that way – no. It was just the death of his wife, is all.” She had looked sadly at Jane. “It burned his soul and he lost his way, he isn’t the man he used to be, not by a long way? Sometimes I wonder if a body isn’t better off dead when they get to be so bitter and twisted.” She apologised for her bad thoughts and made them a coffee. Jane made a habit of seeing her over the next few weeks and they soon became friends. Maggie was the best form of local information they could’ve had. The one thing that they all found weird was the time and date relativity. They knew they were in 1997 but it didn’t feel like it, it felt like the sixties, somehow. Things were just too laid back, too primitive. “Too rustic…” was how Jane described it when they discussed the situation.

  “It’s ‘97 all right,” Mike said. “But where, we can’t be in the same world as we were before, can we?” The TV and radio never helped, either, it was all local stuff and never once did they find any channels about the outside world. It was funny because after a few days the urge to watch or listen to anything seemed to fade somewhat. When Jane had once mentioned the internet to Maggie, the old woman had simply given her a blank look and Jane had a feeling that she’d never even heard of it… Mike’s machine never helped them much either, the only thing that worked was the information file, which George had sent them on Red, that and the Navigator in the truck. They had used the Navigator to plan their routes and find local towns and shops, but that it was it. No messages from George and no replies to the one Mike had sent to the old man. It was of no use and they soon stopped using it. They remembered the things George had said, and also of how Mike himself had talked about parallels, how things could be just slightly ‘off kilter’ from what they had previously considered to be normal.

  Once when they had talked about it, Ken had grinned and said, “Normal huh; yeah right… well, I guess that like a lot of other things around here it comes with the territory and it’s just the way it is?” He looked at them with humour sparkling in his eyes. “There’s no such thing as bloody normal around here, none at all!” In the present moment he wasn’t being so philosophical and rose to fetch another couple of beers. “Are you ready for a fresh one, mate?” He asked. Hearing Mike say that he was definitely ready, Jane asked for a coffee, too. Once Ken sat back down with their fresh drinks, they toasted each other and then decided upon their plan, a plan to help Red.

  A couple of days later they took a two vehicle convoy and headed towards the old farm. Ken drove the RV with Jane relaxing alongside in the big passenger seat. The driver’s seat was of the same luxurious design, and both could be swivelled rearwards so they faced into the lounge of the big motorhome. Looking in his mirror, Ken saw Mike messing about in the truck behind him, the Australian was lazily steering from one side of the road to the other – Ken watched him in wing mirrors, Mike appearing first in one and then the other. Then with a deep throated roar, the truck would accelerate past them with its horn blaring. “He loves this shit doesn’t he, babe?” Ken said as he looked at Jane and smiled.

  Jane laughed. “Yeah, he’s a bloody big kid isn’t he, I think he’s quite taken by Red, did you see the look in his eye when we were fishing – Red was looking at him as though he was his a big brother, or something?” Ken nodded and looked into the distance as Mike disappeared over the far horizon of the straight road. It wasn’t too long before they’d arrived at the turning for the farm and they turned off the main road, rumbled across the grid, and then headed down the bumpy dirt track towards the house. It was to be the start of something good, something positive.

  As they pulled onto the forecourt, Red pounded around the corner of the farmhouse, he had been up in the barn, where the Owl, the one he’d previously thought to be ill, had produced three large offspring. It was too good an opportunity to miss and Red had been sketching the birds since dawn. Hearing the vehicles arriving, he’d leapt down from the hayloft and still clutching a white envelope in his hand, raced barefoot towards the slowing vehicles. The fire in his eyes blazed, but not in the old way, not like it had before in some other place, this time it was the spark of pure joy that leapt from them. He waved madly and shouted up at their open side windows. “Oh my Lord, yore all back again, oh yes, look at yore fancy house on wheels, oh man!” He ran around them like a giant two legged puppy. Actually, Jane did have the feeling that perhaps he was about to pee himself as Red was ecstatic. They came to a halt and Red ran across to the truck where Mike was about to open the door. The young man squeezed his wide shoulders through the window and gave the Australian a large, clumsy hug. Ken and Jane could just see Mike’s hand pat Red on the back, barely able to get his arm from underneath the mountain of flesh that was smothering him. “OK buddy, let me outta here will you, you’re bloody suffocating me!”

  His muffled tones caused Red to wriggle himself back out of the window. “Jeez I’m sorry, Mike – I’m jus’ so happy, real happy, yessir!” He slapped his thighs and ran across to the RV. It took quite a few minutes to calm him down enough for them to make any sense of what he was saying. Red was blurting random excited sentences all over the place. He talked about the refrigerator and of ice cubes. Cold ham, hot bacon an
d spicy mustard, fishing, reading and sketching; racing through his life’s activities whilst barely stopping for a breath in between his words – he was so excited. His new guests stood and smiled at him. Suddenly, as if the thought had only just popped into his head, he turned and ran into the RV, shouting her over he then made Jane show him all the wonderful things that lay within its long white flanks. Ken and Mike stood and watched Red’s weight make the vehicle rock from side to side, they could hear the endless questions he fired at Jane and saw his shadow moving through the vehicle as he explored every corner of their new home. Eventually, curiosity finally satisfied, he stood in the door and looked down at them. With that large round face framed by the shiny aluminium door surround, Red looked a picture indeed.

  Jane gave him a friendly push and said, “Right, come on then Red, let’s go and have a cuppa and I’ll introduce you to the wonders of English tea, shall I?”

  Red uttered a gleeful yelp. “Yes ma’am!” Then leapt from the vehicle like a kid, as he landed, those oversized bare feet raising a puff of dust as they landed on the dry earth on the driveway with a slapping sound. They all laughed at the ridiculous sound and together made their way towards the house. After having the aforementioned drink, they hung around with Red for a while and chatted about things in general. Jane had noticed the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket and asked Red what it was? He blushed deeply and tried to avert the conversation. That one wouldn’t work with Jane.

  “Oh come on now, Red – let me have a look, go on, please, pretty-please…” The boy went an even deeper shade of red and then reluctantly passed her the drawing. Jane reached over and looked at the sketch, which he had done on the back of the old envelope. Seeing a perfect representation of the owl chicks upon such an unflattering canvas, was almost surreal, Jane sat and looked it for a while and then held it up a bit so that she would be able to get a better view. After a moment spent studying the drawing, she looked at him and said, “Red, this is absolutely fantastic! Did you do it, honey?”

 

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