The World of Gordon Sykes.

Gordon Sykes.
By; PaulWADE-2012

Gordon Sykes was alone.
He was alone in his house, he was alone in the streets, indeed, Gorgon Sykes was even alone in a crowd.
Gordon Sykes was alone everywhere.
Everything he did, he did alone.
Except that is, inside his head. Except, in his own mind.
In his mind, Gordon Sykes was the boss, the architect of all he surveyed.
Gordon Sykes was the absolute creator.
Gordon Sykes was the builder of worlds, such as we mere mortals, could never imagine.
Regretfully, Gordon Sykes was not happy, he very angry.
Gordon was angry about all sorts of things. 

Actually, he was very angry about every single thing, with no exceptions.
Nothing ever made sense to Gordon Sykes.
People spoke to him, but to Gordon it sounded like strange riddles.
All movement, from there to here, auto-mobiles rushing about on roads.
Bicycles wobbling about on pavements, where people were supposed to be.
People crowding into shops and stores, until no-one could even move any longer.

Gordon Sykes had been thinking about all these things, a lot.
He had thought about governments that were chosen by people. To watch over people. Whenever Gordon Sykes asked, “who watches over the governments,” no one could give him an answer.

Today, this special day. Gordon Sykes was going to make everything all right.
He was going to make a new, better, more understandable world.
Gordon Sykes was going to live in His Own mind.

* *

Gordon Sykes had arrived. This was his world. A world of infinite possibilities and complete order.
Anything he had been unhappy about, or which needed changing, he would do it here. Right away, or maybe tomorrow. Gordon hadn't decided yet.
What Gordon did know, was that there was no hurry. This world has a time differential of his making. It even crossed Gordon’s mind that he might, just make the night time shorter and the sunny days longer.
Gordon Sykes had not yet decided. He would think more about that when he had time.

The matters which Gordon needed to address were as numerous as the straw in a haystack. Gordon always thought how silly it was to call them “needles in a haystack” he was still confused as to why, or even how a needle would get into a haystack in the first place. That would be another thing Gordon Sykes would change; Silly sayings.

When people walked down a street in Gordon's world, he could decide whether they had soft, silent shoes, or loud, hard clip clopping shoes.
In Gordon Sykes’s world, he could change anything, in an instant.
If the light was too dim, he could make it bright. If the shadows were too scary, he could think them gone.

Gordon Sykes could create anything in his mind. He could also destroy.
A journey could take a week, last for ever, or not take any time at all.
In Gordon Sykes mind. In his world, he was everything, or he was nothing.
He could be light, dark, hard, soft, wet, or dry.
It was time to “Live” in his world. Because here, everything made sense to Gordon Sykes.

* *

Waking up early in the morning was just fine. Gordon enjoyed the sun rise. He especially liked the moment, that all too easy to miss moment, when the morning flashed, for just a few seconds, before giving birth to the day.
Gordon was going to make sure that his mornings would offer as long to see that flash from morning into day, as he would need.
Occasionally, Gordon might, just for a change wish for a dark storm in the morning. He liked storms, with threatening clouds and spikes of lightening bursting their way to the ground.
Gordon would not however, allow those storms to last too long. Storms should arrive, make us fearful, even excited, blow their winds and slash their rain, but then they should leave before they become boring.
Storms then, in Gordon Sykes world would last only one hour, at the most.
This was his power, this was his right. This was his mind, after all.

* *

One evening walking, in his mind, along a street, he felt hemmed in, crowded on either side by massively high buildings. Gordon noticed that shadows passed him by in an unusually strange way. They would come towards him, but as they drew close, they sprang onto the walls of the high buildings and stretched themselves extremely long and awfully thin,and seemed to hover.
There was no reason for this, that Gordon could see, no cars were passing, coming, or going. On this particular evening, Gordon had not thought of cars, so there were none. That is how it worked, in Gordon's world.
These people shadows, with their stretchy thin bodies and quick escape, would have to be dealt with. Gordon gave this matter more than a little of his valuable thinking time and presto, came up with a solution.

Now, when he walked along the streets which he had imagined, there were beautiful search lights, lots of them, glowing bright with all the shades he could think of, all pointing downwards from the tops of the buildings toward the street. No more shadows. Not one, not one of those disconcerting, long stretchy people shadows, which were vanishing into nowhere.
Gordon Sykes was pleased.
This had not taken but a moment to resolve.

Gordon Sykes was so pleased about the resolution of the shadows, that he decided he would make another change.
One of more particular importance, he felt.
It had been quite some time ago, it is true, but Gordon had never been totally happy with the way closets and cupboards always seemed to harbour unseen, scary bad things.
He remembered about some children waking their parents because there was a “bogeyman in the cupboard.”
This just would not do.
Gordon was quite perturbed that such little people should suffer in this way. In an instant. Faster than anything can travel, Gordon had removed all cupboards from children's rooms. Their clothes and toys were right there, where they could be seen, hovering just under the ceiling.
To make it possible to for the children to play with a toy, or get dressed in a favourite outfit. Gordon also gave the children in his world, the necessary ability to call toys and clothes down from the ceiling and come to them.
Gordon was very happy knowing that so many children would never need to bother their parents, while they slept, ever again.

* *

Gordon had been practising with the power of his mind. The changes he could imagine to his world, should be infinite.
He was not displeased with the small results he had achieved, but felt it was time to make some bigger, longer lasting changes to his world.
It was time, he thought, for some kind of adventure.
He wanted to travel everywhere, in this world of his.
Meet new people, do daring exciting things.
Gordon Sykes had become bored with the mundane. This is why it was time to go away and have an adventure. Leave the ordinary every day, nit picking annoying world, and go where everything made sense, if he decided it should.
He could live, in his mind, on his world: Permanently.

Gordon knew, that where ever he went, or how ever long he would be away, he wouldn’t have to pack any luggage, no clothing, no stuff and no food.
Gordon felt quite elated. All he would have to do, was think, or imagine what ever he needed, when he needed it:
He knew too, he could travel in the lap of luxury, simply by imagining it.
Gordon could hardly wait.

* *

Gordon Sykes morning, lasted for what seemed like hours on this particular morning. The trouble was, Gordon couldn’t decide upon which clothing he should imagine himself to be seen in. He knew that he could change his clothing in a millisecond of thought, but that wasn’t the point.
Gordon was pedantic.
If he was wearing unfashionable clothes, then the people which he imagined to meet him, might laugh at him and he would have to immediately imagine them gone. Then, he would have to imagine a new group of people to take their place. He would also have to imagine a change of his clothes again, or alternatively, imagine the people, which he had just imagined, to very much like the clothes that he wore.
This was all becoming very tiresome, for poor Gordon Sykes.
So that he would not have to face any further conflicts at this time, he simply imagined the morning to last a very long, long time.
Putting off all decision making until the afternoon.
In fact, he thought he may imagine himself a short sleep, in the morning sunshine, just to recharge his batteries.
Gordon Sykes imagined himself asleep, and true to his concept, before very long, he was asleep, sound asleep.
All Gordon’s worlds went black.

* *

A journey.

Once Gordon Sykes had settled into a rhythm, he became far more adept at creating several things at once. He was sure however, that he was doing something, quite wrong.
It wasn’t until he had created a person, to discuss this with, that he realised it was because he had to keep creating everything and everyone over and over again, to make it all work properly.
Why wasn’t it just, there all the time?
Or, at the very least stay where he had last put it.
And so, that is when Gordon Sykes made a calculated decision.
He would imagine a certain number of things, at any one time, but then, they must stay where they were imagined, for as long as he needed them to be there. Even if he fell asleep. He wanted to not have to try and remember what he had imagined the day before.
It Must still be there, where he had left it and exactly as he had left it.

Gordon was actually, so pleased with this idea that he immediately imagined a fairly large city, with lots of canals and an old railway track, which in his mind was only for big black steam engines of yesteryear.
No roads at all, at least, not today. Gordon was not ready to imagine cars and buses just yet.
He was however, still looking forward to do some travelling and decided to imagine the journey on a long narrow-boat, or barge, drifting along an impossibly straight canal.
This plan felt much better to Gordon, far more solid.

Gordon Sykes felt happy, at least he thought he did, he wasn't quite sure if he had imagined that he should be happy, in which case, it didn't really count.
He was a little surprised that the barge never slowed down, or rocked, or drifted toward the bank, ever.
Gordon created in his newly imagined city considerably more wind and gave the steering and controls over to a captain of the barge. The captain had been made to appear upon an instant of thought.
The captains sole job, was to convey Gordon along the canal, preferably with a little more spray whisked up by the wind, some nerve twisting near misses of obstacles, which may be floating on the canal and of course, narrowly escaping being blown into the bank of the canal, by the wind.

This was more like it. Gordon was extremely pleased with these exciting changes. He had already decided that all the things he had created would not be lost overnight. The city along with the canals would be here tomorrow, so would the captain and the barge. Gordon could sleep peacefully now.
Tomorrow would be another day.
Much the same, he thought, as today.
Good, he smiled.
Gordon dozed off to sleep.

* *

As the awareness of another day brought Gordon Sykes back to full wakefulness, he realized with some satisfaction that indeed, everything was still as he had left it.
For Gordon could see the only change was the advent of morning. And what a beautiful morning it was.
He could remember the fun of yesterday and the barge ride which was, he recalled, exciting. Today, he would imagine a slightly more adventurous outing. Perhaps he would direct his thoughts to imagine a few more people.

Gordon quite liked the idea of more people. Gordon was however full of trepidation. What if he didn’t like these new people? Worse, what if they didn’t like him? Gordon gave himself an involuntary slap. Silly bugger, he thought, I will just make them like me. That is after all what having my own world is all about. Gordon Sykes was beginning feel the confusion of having too many people in his life already and he hadn’t even created them yet.

Slowing his thoughts and idea's down a little, Gordon decided to imagine that one of the canals, should stretch away into the distance, perhaps it would meet a river and then he would follow that water to see what adventures he could have all that far away.
Gordon smiled, yes indeed.
The people he had been thinking of would appear at random points along the journey. He decided too, that they, the new people he imagined into his world, could have just a little autonomy with their behavior. Then, he wouldn’t have to spoil his fun by constantly worrying about what they were all up to.
Gordon liked that idea.

He realized that he would possibly be traveling a long way today, so he must be certain he had overnight things with him. Ah, silly man Gordon, he thought, again. I can create those things as I need them. The world he was imagining and the new things he was creating were becoming increasingly more complicated.
It had gradually become more difficult to remember what he had imagined, and where he had put them. Nevertheless, Gordon Sykes was still the architect of his world and he would very soon get the hang of it. He was sure of it.

It took very few moments before Gordon was back on the barge, being conveyed toward the horizon. This time, he noticed, the captain was not the only other person on the barge. There were two other men, one middle aged and very tanned, who seemed to be teaching a much younger man the ropes.
Well this is more like it,
Gordon was feeling just wonderful. He had imagined the sun behind them. So it was west they traveled, he thought. Why not? West was the direction mankind always seemed to migrate. Gordon Sykes was not sure why that had been, but he was sure it must have been a good idea, if only because practically the entire human race, had done it.

Struggling to not have too many thoughts such as the one about the human race and which direction it moved, Gordon took himself to the front of the barge and felt the warm breeze blowing in his face. The sun was shining on the back of his head and in the distance a mirage-like quivering on the horizon. My goodness, who could want anything more?
Gordon was almost jumping on the spot with joy.
As the barge had made its way clear of the city, which it had done some time ago, the terrain was becoming very wooded. The banks stopped being the squared off neat things they were in the city, having been replaced by muddy and often crumbling slopes, which were nothing but barriers to the waters escape.

Gordon Sykes was somewhat put out by this. He had not, he thought, created this. Or had he? It is true that he wanted adventure. It was also true that he imagined a very long canal which lead into a distant river. Perhaps he had inadvertently imagined the forest and marshes so that it would become a bit more rugged. Yes, he decided, he must have done. It would be extremely wimpy of him to have no hazards at all on his adventurous journey.

Gordon was being especially forgiving today. The captain was telling the crew what to do and Gordon saw that he could rely upon the captains discretion. Well; that’s what captains are for, is it not?
The captain was now bellowing at the two men, who were jumping to his commands. Gordon was not sure what the commands were, but guessed they had something to do with barging, canals and the like.
Gordon contested with his own mind. He realized that only yesterday he had imagined himself a new captain so that he, Gordon wouldn’t have to be distracted by all those floating type barging decisions.
Why was it I didn’t recall these things earlier, he wondered.
Gordon Sykes was getting sleepy, again.
It was extremely tiring imagining a city and a countryside, with all sorts of things going on at the same time.
Very tiring indeed.
Gordon would have a nap.
All the parts of his imagined world would still be here when he awoke, so he lay down where he was and slept.

* *

Gordon Sykes was jolted into the realization that he heard noises, there was shouting and a loud banging, like the report of a gun. Taking a few moments to remember where he was, Gordon remembered that it had indeed been one of his own brilliant ideas to give people autonomous behavior.
This is what happens when you invite people into your world, he thought.
Looking about, Gordon could see his captain ducking behind a big metal box, periodically popping up, to shoot using a very old looking revolver.
As surprised as Gordon was, he couldn’t help looking over the side of the barge, to see who it was that the captain was shooting at.
What he saw was even more confusing.
Gordon Sykes saw a motley bunch of men, very raggedly dressed, also shooting old guns, except these men, were shooting at his captain.

Caught in a moment of indecision, Gordon wondered if he should just wait to see who wins, or imagine an end to the gun fight himself.
Gordon had to confess in his own mind, that it was he who had wanted adventure. It was he who had given people the freedom to do what they wanted to do. It was he who had no idea where this was all going.
Very upsetting, he thought.
Gordon did not feel much like firing a revolver himself. Equally, he didn’t want to have to find a new captain.
Gordon was beginning to quite like the one he had.
What did happen was that Gordon imagined a new group of people, all smartly dressed, heavily armed and all working for him.
This new group immediately took positions on and around the barge, which was lodged up against the muddy slope of the bank. At once the sound of many loud reports from the guns which these new people were firing, filled the air. Gordon was beside himself with excitement. He had never imagined that it would be so frightening, yet so invigorating to be shot at.

Gordon Sykes then had the most terrible thought, ever.
What happens if one of these bullets, hits him?
Will he simply imagine himself well again and continue?
Or, will it actually hurt him?
Can he die in this world? Can he be injured in a world of his own imagination?
Gordon Sykes in his mind made the adventure - STOP.
Every person, every ripple on the canal, the wind ceased and the leaves froze on the trees. Even the smoke from the revolvers just held on where it was.
Gordon needed to think.

Nobody knows how long Gordon Sykes thought about these things.
Gordon had no idea himself. All Gordon could recall were the questions, but so far, he had not been able to satisfy himself with reasonable answers.
Are there answers he thought. If this is all my imagination, then I should be able to imagine the answers too.
No. It can not work like that, he thought. If I ask a question, in the world that my imagination has created, then it would seem possible that I should already know the answer.
If that were so, then why ask the question at all?
Ah ha.. Good point. Gordon was now in a full and pointless conversation with his own mind. It has to be said, that even Gordon Sykes, saw the potential disaster of such a conflict of opinions.

All this was making Gordon feel quite drowsy.
He again fought against the sleepiness which clouded his mind and dulled his senses.
Just for a few minutes, he relented, to rest my eyes. Just a few minutes.
That was the last thought to seep through his mind.
Gordon Sykes fell, again, into a deep, deep sleep.

* *

Gordon Sykes, woke to a dark stormy day. The sunlight and the city, with the long canal were gone.
Gordon tried to see through the morning he thought he had imagined.
The usual light which forced its way through the dark clouds, was failing to do so. The long sheets of lightening were muted too.
Gordon was not able to fully imagine his waking, as he had done in the recent past.
He seemed trapped and unable to move.
Gordon realized he had probably been captured by those bandits. His own team of crack marksmen must have failed, or been over run by the reinforcements which must have joined up with the bandits.
Either way, Gordon was here, trapped and unable to move.
They must have him blindfolded, as he couldn’t see with his eyes.
He realized he was not seeing too clearly with his mind either

Gordon tried as hard as he could, to imagine himself free.
He imagined his hands and feet untied and able to move, but alas, his imagined powers could not achieve these results at all.
Actually the more he thought and imagined getting free, the stronger the bonds seemed to become.
Gordon was becoming extremely worried by all this, he felt a surge of panic overtake his rational thoughts. More questions shot through his fading mind. Had he lost his skills? Was he captured and being drugged? How was it that his usual imagined responses were so dulled, so uncooperative.

He began hearing sounds, this time not of his own creation.
He was certain he had not imagined that last sensation either.
Gordon Sykes, had the sudden urge to stick out his tongue.
Immediately he he began to wiggle his toes.
After a moment he felt his fingers twitching.
Now just hold on, Gordon thoughts were full of impotent rage.
He tried to talk, but could not make a sound.
Taking stock of himself, he felt an odd tingling as one gets after a disconcerting numbness, all over his body.
Gordon thought hard.
He tried to imagine it gone.
He waited.....
A small crack of light, he could see a tiny beam of light, he was certain.
He heard a sound.....

“Gordon?”

"Gordon?"“Gordon Sykes”..................................

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Reflections: A Warning.

Reflections.

By PaulWADE

A (Very) Short Story.

Peter sat at his desk, with the two computer screens illuminating reflections off his reading glasses.

He had so much to finish today, but his mind was elsewhere.

Finding moments when he could work without distraction were becoming more and more rare.

This evening time was no exception.

He stopped bashing away at his keyboard and quickly read what he had written.

Crap, he decided. Absolute rubbish.

Peter looked around the room and saw that there were jobs he had been meaning to do all week, still untouched. Even his ashtray was still full. This he usually emptied as matter of routine each morning. What on earth was the matter with him? He was becoming either lazy, or totally preoccupied by anything and nothing.

It was the book, he knew that his mind was being diverted because the story was not writing itself, as other stories he had written had done.

“Welcome to world of the writer,” he could almost hear his friends saying this as he realized he too had been bitten by the terrible blank mind syndrome. Better to call it by its proper name, writers block.

“Damn it to hell.” Peter was quickly losing his temper. “Some fresh air may help,” he decided. So he left the desk, left his office and wandered around the apartment looking for ways to both be helpful by doing the odd job around the place and to divert his oncoming irritation.

The jobs were obvious, he went back and collected his ashtray, emptied his ever growing stack of discarded notes and took them to the kitchen, where the rest of the garbage also needed taking to the recycling bins.

“Ah well, it'll get me the air I needed,” he thought. So, grabbing all the little garbage bags he stomped off to throw them all away.

The late evening air was indeed very refreshing, “bloody cold actually,” he thought. He hadn't bothered with a coat or a sweater, the bins were not very far and he lived on the ground floor in any case, so it was just a few minutes job.

“It would do him good he,” decided, to be cold for a few moments, it wouldn't do him any harm at all.

“Perhaps it would kick start my sputtering brain.”

Having dutifully put the right bag into the appropriate bin, he turned to walk back to the rear entrance of the apartments. Something caught his eye. He was looking right into his own office as he walked back.

There in the office, staring at the work-board notes, was HIMSELF?.

“This is bullshit,” he said out loud. “What the fuck?..”

He stepped forward a few more paces, while the himself in the office turned toward the desk, sitting down at the computer.

As taken aback as Peter was, he didn't panic.

He thought that perhaps he was seeing someone playing a joke on him.

Many thoughts raced through his mind; “whoever it is, is wearing exactly my clothes.”

“No;” Peter decided, “this is bull,” he stopped where he was, watching a little longer, the person, himself, was at the computer, at his desk, now typing quite quickly.

It was too far away for Peter to read what was being written, but he could see the blackness of the typed words creeping across the stark white page.

Peter then ran toward to the entrance hall of the apartments and let himself in. Running up the three or four steps, he reached his own apartment in seconds, bursting through the door as if he was raiding the place.

Without even thinking, he continued directly to his office which was at the far side of his apartment.

He burst into the room.

Empty! there was no one here, not himself, not anybody.

He looked around the room and tried to make his mind concentrate.

Had he imagined it? Well, the fact is, he must have done.

“After all, its not exactly an average occurrence,” Peter chuckled. “I really have been working too much, I should pace myself better in the future. Thinking about fantasy worlds and wild characters is obviously getting too much for me.”

Peter turned toward the window, staring out onto the courtyard, the pathway he had just been walking along; there, right there, from where he thought he had seen himself in the office, was himself.

Standing exactly where he had been standing when he saw himself in the office from outside.

As he stared, the himself from the pathway gave him a small wave, as if he was a friendly neighbour. Peter knew there was no point running out to confront this person, as when he did so, he would probably be in the office, as soon as he got outside on the pathway.

At least he expected that is what would happen.

Finally, Peter sat down in the chair at his desk, turning his back to the window and the whoever, himself, it was outside.

The idea that then struck him, was to write down what had just happened, so that there would be something, not proof exactly, but at the least, a third element to this this ever increasingly unnerving drama.

As Peter began typing and the black words marched across the page, he realized that this is what he had seen, when he had been outside, looking at himself typing on the computer from the pathway.

For the first time real fear grew inside Peter's mind. “Am I going crazy?”

“I obviously am going crazy he thought angrily. Normal people do not see themselves anywhere except in a mirror, this was not a reflection. I am looking at a person doing something entirely different to that which I am doing.”

“Assuming” he thought horrified, “that I am actually me and the person outside right now, isn't me. In which case, who then, is he and who am I?...”

His thoughts trailed off.........

Peter was still trying to rationalize the entire process.

“I must be me, because I am doing the thinking from here. Of course, so whoever it is outside, can not be me because I am doing the thinking.” For some unfathomable reason this pearl of wisdom made Peter feel better.

Without giving any of it further thought, he raced out of his office across the apartment and out of the main door, to the same pathway as he had taken before.

“Ha ha!!!” He cried, “I knew it;”

No one was there.

He had obviously just been indoors too long and the cold autumn air had momentarily mixed him up a bit. “Silly bastard. Now pull yourself together and go inside have a coffee and take the rest of the evening to relax. The wife will be home soon, her being home will make the reality return.”

Peter was already feeling better, he turned to walk back, when he reluctantly looked up toward his window, there he was, again, standing right up against the window glass, staring at HIM, with a confused horrified look on his, my face...

Not normally given to such physical weaknesses as fainting, Peter hit the path like a dropped school bag.

Everything went black.

Peter had no idea how long he was out.

He remembered all too quickly, what had made his head spin and had made him lose himself.

“Thank God.” He realized he had simply rushed outside into the cold air too quickly. It must have made him dizzy. He got to his feet, shaking his head slightly and laughed at himself for being such a girl.

“I do feel a little better.” He admitted to himself.

He looked toward his office window, he saw his wife entering the room.

He then noticed that HE was sitting in the chair, slumped over the keyboard. His wife was shaking him by the shoulder.

He could see that she was saying something to him.

He watched as he stood up from the chair.

Together, he and his wife looked out of the office window.

As he continued to watch, two men entered the office. Both he and his wife turned as they did so.

Each man took an arm and led him out of the room. His wife followed directly behind them.

Peter, ran across the lawn and barrelled into the entrance of the apartments, up the few stairs and crashed through the door into his apartment.

“Where have you been” His wife asked in a calm and casual tone.

Peter stared at her, “How long have you been home?” he asked.

“Just came in, a few moments before you came bashing through the door.”

She smiled at him, “I thought I had lost you.” She said with a grin...

Peter did not reply, he walked over to the front room and looked out of the window. He could see the street from here and there, on the other side of the road was his wife, two men and Himself being pushed into a small van.

He called out to his wife.

“What is it?” She replied from the kitchen.

No. No, no, no, no, Nnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

The End Kinda!!!

Hiking off the Map. (A Halloween Story.)

Halloween-2012

Trick or Treat

Hiking Off The Map

By, PaulWADE-2012

A Short Story:

By the time the three of them had finished their argument, each of them had forgotten who it was that suggested they take a long weekend break in Cornwall.

In England; in October?

“Its going to be cold.”

“I bet it rains, it always rains.”

“Nowhere will be open, so we'll have nowhere to stay at night.”

And so on.

They each made a negative contribution, they couldn’t remember who had actually said what. It did raise the question, “what were they doing there at all?”

Janice, Roger and Sarah, had taken many hiking trips together. It was their “thing.” So far they had done, some parts of Italy, a bit of Switzerland and big chunk of France. Mostly because it was near-bye. A fast train ride and there they were. The other places they wanted to walk over were really a flight away and except for Roger, neither of the girls could take that much time off work.

Which ever one of them suggested Cornwall, knew there was a four-day weekend at the end of October, so he, or she had suggested a short ramble through the open parts of Cornwall. “It'll be lovely.” All of them remember that being said.

At this particular moment they were, according to the map, three miles from the sea, five miles from a small village and there should be a fairly high hill, near a small woods. That is, if the map was being read correctly. Oddly enough, Janice was the map reader. Oddly? Because Roger always harbored the belief that she couldn’t find her backside with two hands. Although he also whispered to himself, it was large enough and should have its own place on the map.

Roger became friends with Janice a long time ago, the two them had a brief “encounter” as Janice describes it, but instead of falling out afterwards, they actually became tight friends. Sarah is her best friend.

So the three of them became very close.

Naturally Roger thought that he had a license to say such things to Janice, because they had “done it.” A misconception carried by many men, apparently. He was not so brave with Sarah though, who apart from being a bit of a feminist, was also a very capable martial arts combatant. Roger didn’t want to get beaten up by a girl. Especially not Sarah.

Avoiding the inevitable argument about, “where the frick are we--- really?” They all crouched around the map and watched as Janice pointed to the various, not too obvious, landmarks. As they all stood up and looked about, they couldn’t see one single thing that resembled the marks on the map.

“Now come onnnn,” Janice was looking distinctly crestfallen. Her map reading was actually very good, but she had to admit something was very wrong here.

Roger took the map from Janice and turned it over to the side where the county and the region were clearly marked. It was the correct map. It was also ordnance survey, which meant that with the skill Janice had, along with a compass she could put them within just a few feet of where they stood. Usually.

“Its the right map,” said Roger, to no one in particular. “Is it possible we have drifted off a tad?” He asked them. “After all, the land here does look pretty samey, which ever direction you look.”

“No, I really made a point of checking our route before we left the last stop,” Janice was looking more worried than she ought, after all it was not the end of the world.

Sarah picked up on her distress and asked Janice, “what's up Jan, don't look so upset, I'm sure we'll get back on track,” Sarah stepped over to Janice and patted her on the small part of her shoulder not covered with the huge rucksack that she carried.

Janice gave her a slight grin. Then took the map back from Roger and again laid it down on the ground. She squatted down and put the compass down on the map too. Once the compass settled to magnetic north she tried to orientate the map as she thought she had read the landmarks.

“There, you see,” she gestured for the other two to join her. “We left here,” she pointed to the last stopping place they had been. “Then we walked along this track, clearly marked, here,” Janice ran her finger along the clearly marked pathway. “Now,” Janice prodded the map petulantly, “ we are here. Except we seem not to be. According to everything around us we aren’t even close, no high craggy hill, no woods and well, actually nothing, it all looks totally different. Not one thing that the map says, should be there.” Janice stood up, shrugging out of the shoulder straps of her rucksack.

Roger and Sarah, stared at one another. They had been on many such walking trips before, and yes, they had been unsure of their actual location before, but never on any of their trips had they become totally lost.

“Well, we have still a few hours, before it gets dark,” Sarah tried to sound happy, but failed rather. It sounded more like “its going to be dark soon, so we had better do something quickly.”

“Look, out that way,” Sarah pointed toward the distance, “are they people? I cant quite make it out. Do you see guys?”

They each put their hands beside their eyes, making a binocular shape. “Ah yes, I think I see them,” Janice who had the best eye sight brightened.

“Wow, what a piece of luck, if they have just come from the village we are making for, we are looking good.” Janice was almost bouncing with joy.

“They are still an awful long way off aren’t they?” Roger made his usual stupid remark, not really being helpful at all. “It'll take an hour before they reach us here, shall we make a start and move toward them?” For once Roger did make some sense.

The three of them shuffled back into their packs, then with a more optimistic step got into line and began walking toward where they saw the shape of people coming their way.....

* * * *

After thirty minutes, it appeared they had not really gained that much distance between themselves and the people they were walking toward.

The landscape around them looked roughly the same too.

All three of them knew that Cornwall was somewhat barren and that it was craggy, with a few scattered, discarded tin mines here and there.

This however was something else entirely.

The ground around them looked to be green and very healthy plants grew everywhere. Hardly a tree in sight though, unless they were trees on the horizon, in the other direction.

Guarding their thoughts, the hikers marched on toward what they still thought, must be people. The shapes had become more distinct as they kept walking toward them. The evening was drawing in as well, which made a misty, fuzzy dimness all about the distance.

“Is it possible those people aren’t actually moving, but just standing or milling about where they are?” Janice who was leading, called over her shoulder.

“Could be Jan.” Replied Sarah, who was still squinting her eyes, trying to make a clearer vision of what she saw.

“Anyhow,” Janice went on. “we should be with them soon. I hope it doesn’t get dark too early around these parts, or it will be dark just as we arrive. Then we have to make a decision to stay with them, or move on in full dark. Not my favorite choice, walking in darkness, here, to be avoided I would say.” Poor Janice was trying very hard to sound as flippant as she could.

No one spoke after that. They tramped on with a feeling of determination to reach these people and to do it quickly as they could.

The afternoon had passed, they had not seemed to notice it go. Even so, they cannot have been walking that long, it felt only an hour or so. How strange.

Roger was about to say something, probably negative, which was his way, when out of nowhere came a sound like someone calling. It was an ear ringing, high pitched sound more like a hooting than a call.

Nevertheless they stopped where they were and each cocked an ear, trying to hear better.

Nothing.

They stood stock still, hardly breathing.

“Did you hear it?” Roger ventured his comment, which was met with..

“Shhuusssshh” from both the girls at the same time..

“Listen.” Sarah whispered.

Nothing.

Actually, there was not any sound; at all.

Then they heard it “Hellooooooo” it was nearer this time.

Janice, was the one to answer, “Hello?” She called, her voice a bit gravelly.

“HELLO?” Bellowed Roger, “IS ANYONE THERE?”

Roger then said to the girls, “well you have to make them hear you.” He smiled his stupid smile, as if everything he did was misunderstood, but was really, so obvious.

They stood and waited. Looking all about themselves, they noticed now that it had become almost full dark.

“Shit and biscuits,” Janice was rummaging in her side pocket. She was still wearing her pack, so reaching back was not achieving her aim.

“Sarah, sweetie, will you dig my flash-light out of my pouch for me, that one there?”

Now with the flash light Janice could point it in the direction they thought the sound had come from.

Sweeping back and forth across a small ark, suddenly Janice stopped on one spot. “Hello, are you there?” She called in the direction she was pointing the light.

“You wont find us like that.” A voice from behind them, made them all jump.

“I mean I'm not over there, none of us are over there, as a matter of fact.”

Janice span around trying to shine her light on where she heard the voice.

As all three of them turned, they almost jumped out of their skin.

Standing right there, with them were two people.

“Evenin' to ya.” The one who had spoken before, was grinning all over his face and made a slight bow. “Tis a lovely evenin' for it, is it not?”

“Erm, good evening to you,” each of the three mumbled, as they tried to take in the sight of the two people.

“A lovely evening for what, exactly?” Roger asked, as friendly as he could muster at present. “We are a bit off the beaten track, it seems. We would be grateful if you could direct us to the nearest village.”

“Twod be our pleesure,” said the odd looking man, for it must be a man, judging by how he was dressed. “I'll do better than that, I'll take you there ma' self.”

Both Sarah and Janice smiled, trying to think passed the how oddly this man was dressed. “Jostling and stopping, then starting again the two girls, trying to express how that would be kind, very kind, but could he tell them where they actually were? Maybe point it out on the map.” Somehow, between them this all got said and the man looked at each of them and gave out a cry of laughter.

“Why yes, to this and yes to that,” he chanted, “I shall show you where, and I'll show you when, then if yer like I'll bring yer back ag'in”...

Taken aback by this out cry, both the girls stepped closer to each other. Janice reached out for Sarah's hand. Roger trying to be more macho than his nature allowed, also came a bit closer to the girls although he stopped at holding their hand.

“So you know where we are and will help us?” Asked Roger. He looked at the silent one then, it seemed to be a woman, but Roger couldn’t really tell as the person wore a deep hood which concealed the face entirely.

“Well, I'm Roger, and this is Janice”------ “And this is Sarah” the strange little man finished Rogers sentence for him.

All of them reacted as if the moment had been frozen in time.

“ Now that's ENOUGH !!”

All of them spun round to look at the other figure. Still hooded, it was a female voice and a very annoyed one by the sound of it.

Having won their attention, the voice from the hood continued, more gently this time. “It is not our way to make you feel uncomfortable, my young friends.” She raised her hands to the rim of her hood and slowly lowered it down to rest upon her shoulders.

Roger took an involuntary breath, the two girls were equally surprised.

The woman was beautiful.

None of them had seen a woman THIS beautiful, not like her, ever.

The woman smiled, a warm and very alluring smile.

“My name is Caolan, and this rambunctious man is Fen, which is short for something, but it cannot be important, or he would use his full name.”

Fen's face dropped, as if he had literally been melted.

As he did so he looked particularly odd, extremely ugly, but even stranger than that.

Only Janice saw this. She gulped back another reaction. When suddenly as if it had never happened, Fen's face was back to being a smiling, almost normal looking man again.

This actually worried Janice more than what she thought she had just seen, which was becoming, confusing to her the more she thought about it.

Caolan, was speaking again.

“There is, or there are, a few things you should know, dear children” Caolan said this as if she were addressing infants at school.

Janice, Sarah and Roger, did perk up a bit and paid full attention. Somehow they couldn’t help themselves.

“Since you have seen my face, you will now find yourselves being calmer, less confused and above all unafraid of what is happening around you. Perhaps, just a short time ago, you felt you were lost in this beautiful land. Your maps didn’t tell you what they should and the distance from us to you seemed never to become shorter.” Caolan looked at each of them in turn. Still smiling. She lingered a short time with each, as she looked one by one into their eyes.

As she did so, Janice, then Sarah and finally Roger thought Caolan had continued speaking. Except this beautiful woman with the hypnotic voice and wonderful green eyes, had spoken to her, or him, alone.

“You are welcome to join me for the night. Our small village is not three miles from where we stand. We have some transport which will lighten your burden, please remove your packs and follow me.” As Caolan finished she began to turn then over her shoulder she called to Fen, “be sure their packs are brought too, safely now Fen.”

Fen, with his grinning, smiling face merely nodded and easily picked up all three of the packs from the ground and followed the others.

* * *

Having arrived at the village it was clear, or appeared to be clear, to the three of them that it had been a smooth pleasant journey. One which had them passing through tall vegetation that had a sweet aroma, even though it was dark, the views were still in their minds eye.

Equally, it became clear that all three of them had similar memories, which didn’t really bother them at all.

Janice kept feeling an odd knowing. However like the feeling of trying to remember where you left the car keys, finding the actual sweet spot of recollection, evaded her. She saw Caolan staring at her, she looked back, more confidently than she truly felt and smiled sweetly.

Caolan just nodded once, then went back to her conversation with two other people who had appeared just as they entered the village.

Janice looked around herself and found Sarah doing much the same thing. Sarah caught her eye and they were drawing closer to each other when, each of them stopped in their tracks. “You should stay apart for a short time” Both Janice and Sarah heard the voice but neither saw who had spoken. It must have been Caolan. Who was now looking in their direction.

As one, the girls nodded their understanding and stayed exactly where they were.

Roger, was nowhere in sight now. Even though the girls both felt strange, they were partially aware of what had been, just a few hours before. Although more than that was becoming a little hard to fathom.

Sarah and Janice were some twenty feet apart when the annoying man appeared between them, he gestured to each of them , first to Janice then Sarah to follow him. He called out to them that a small dinner would be laid out in the big house in the middle of the village. “It'll do yer good after yo'r journey,” he said.

Sarah said, “why after just three miles, should I be so very hungry?” Sarah looked toward Janice for confirmation.

“I agree, why is the journey the cause of such hunger?” Asked Janice.

Fen was paying little attention he just scampered ahead, as if it was his most important task of the day.

“If you ladies would like to wash and change, your rooms are at the top of the stairs, a maid will be there to help you. Anything you need, simply ask the maid and she will provide it for you.” Fen had opened the door and swung his arm to direct the girls inside.

Sarah had noticed the very large house as they approached. The top part, the parts she could see in the poor light, was covered with moss and ivy. The windows were very small but there was a warm light melting through each of them.

The flint stones of the walls seemed very old and the door, when they passed inside was thick oak, with a small peek hole, it had enough space to just pass a hand through. On the massive door nob at the lower center of the door, were the strangest faces Sarah had seen in her whole life...

As the two of them passed inside, the hallway and the surrounding doors were all closed. The stairway which was several feet from the front door was very wide and after only a few steps formed a small landing, at the rear of which was a tall colored glass window.

It was full dark outside so the reflections were all from the huge candelabra which hung over head of the hall way. The landing at the stairs then split into two separate flights of stairs, one on either side, turning back on itself at the left and right of the house.

Janice was the first to speak, “wow, Sarah, have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“Only in films, and then; only the very old ones, which were in black and white.” Sarah was also standing with her eyes glittering in the yellowy light of the huge candelabra. “I wonder why no wax falls down on the floor” Sarah thought. Then dismissed it as being a rather silly thought, realizing they would hardly put so many candles into such a thing, only to drip hot wax on any one who walked through the hallway...

The girls held each others hand, as they stared all about at the surroundings, especially the ceiling which was wonderfully ornate and very colorful. The rose, where the candelabra was fixed to the ceiling, had large moldings, these represented serpents, three of them, eating each their own tails.

Very creative in a disturbing sort of way.

Neither of them said much as they took this all in. When a maid dressed in very austere black appeared from somewhere concealed beyond the staircase. Sarah could not see where she had come from, but as the maid approached both Janice and Sarah, let go of their hands and straightened up.

“Good evening Mistress Janice. Good evening Mistress Sarah.” The maid spoke as if she had all the time in the world. “Never using just one word, when four would be better.” Sarah's mind was racing again..

Why these thoughts kept running through her mind, she couldn’t imagine, unless she was a lot more nervous than she liked to think.

“If you ladies would follow me, I will take you both to your rooms.” The maid did not smile, she did not even wait to see if the girls were following, she turned and began toward the stairway.

Without pause the maid climbed the steps as easily as if she did nothing else all day long. For Sarah and Janice who were even now feeling a little stiff from this mornings walk. Was it this morning? The day seemed far away to them now.

Janice could tell that she was feeling much the same as Sarah at this moment, she couldn’t say exactly how she knew this but the feeling kept coming and going with varying intensity.

Janice glanced at Sarah as they climbed the first part of the stairs. When an outrageous thought must have struck them both. “I know, I'll race you to the top landing,” Sarah, could hear herself say this and felt as if she was a little girl again.

Janice was laughing too, “I go left, you go right, see who reaches the top first.

R -e-ady. Steady, GO,” with that the two of them scampered up opposite stairways, thumping and slipping as they half ran to the top landing. Squealing like children all the way.

This would have been odd, even if they had been able to control their outburst. More odd was that the maid, who was still plodding up the right hand stairway, didn’t bat an eyelid.

Not breathing any differently than when she began the climb up the stairs, the maid simply asked them to follow her. Again not waiting to see if they would. It was taken for granted.

“This is your room Mistress Sarah,” the maid knocked three times on the dull blue door, which was to the right of the new corridor. It opened immediately and Sarah was ushered inside.

“Mistress Janice, you will be next door,” the maid said this to Janice, which was the first time she had addressed her directly. At least she had looked at Janice this time, which was almost the same thing.

Sarah had entered her room, once again struck by the old-world charm. So many candles were burning, the room appeared very bright. It was wonderfully warm too, the fire was small, but Sarah guessed that with so many candles burning they must warm the place too.

It was then Sarah realized two maids were standing there, expectantly, waiting for her to fully enter the room.

“Hello,” Sarah gave the usual youngster short arm wave, as she said it.

The two maids replied with “Good evening Mistress Sarah” in complete unison.

“Wow,” Sarah said, “did you practice that for long?”

This time only one of the maids answered saying “sorry Mistress Sarah, we do not understand, what do you mean?” Both of the maids, cast their eyes down to the floor, as if they were ashamed.

“Oh please, I was just trying to be funny, I meant that you spoke at the same time, almost as if you only had one voice.” Sarah smiled sheepishly at the two maids, feeling as silly as, when she had run up the stairs.

“What is the matter with me? She thought to herself. “Am I really losing it? I'm not behaving at all like myself?”

The maid who spoke before, broke the conversation in Sarah's head, asking if she was ready for her bath?

“A bath? Oh yes! I am super ready for a bath, show me where.

And, what are your names?”

The maids looked at one another, then as before, exactly together, said, “Ginny and Jenny, Mistress Sarah.” The two of them almost tugging Sarah into a side room, which Sarah had not yet seen. Sarah was still fighting herself Not to say “You’re kidding, right?” But by then; “Your bath Mistress,” the maid who spoke dipped her hand into the shiny copper bath, “it is just right for bathing now, Mistress Sarah.”

“Why thank you, so much. This really is very nice.” Sarah began stripping out of her clothes. As she did so, the other maid, the one who Sarah still didn’t know was Ginny or Jenny began collecting each article as Sarah discarded it.

Naked, Sarah felt free, not just of her clothes, but something else seemed strangely different. She stepped into the bath, which was indeed wonderfully “just right.”

“Oooooh; this - is – delightfull ----,” Sarah crooned... “Ooooooh yes.”

As she laid down in the balmy water, she felt her whole body melt into something? What? Sarah couldn’t decide if this was THE best she had ever felt, or not.

If it was not, then it came pretty damn close...

She closed her eyes and felt like humming, but didn’t quite have the energy.

“I'll hum later“… was the last thought she had.

* * * *

Janice just knew, somehow she felt it, that Sarah and she were in safe hands.

“After all, who would make such a fuss of two stray girls, only to do them harm? Well, all right, there were those who might.

Those monsters were men, usually; not beautiful women with impeccable manners.

A Bath and super dresses, my god, I am sure we are safe.” Janice finished her mental debate and left her room.

Without any planning, on their part, the two of them had arrived at the top landing; exactly at the same moment.

Bathed, full make up and dressed to the nines.

“You look just incredible, wonderful, beautiful.” Said Sarah.

“My goodness Sarah, you too, shall we?”

The girls, all silliness forgotten now, linked arms and descended the staircase together.

Bells of the ball; and then some.

They both looked absolutely stunning.

They had not seen from the top landing, the two rows of finely dressed men at the foot of the final stair case. Six of them in all. Their dress however, was very oldie world, as Sarah would describe it. Actually, not just old but ancient.

Incredibly smart; unusually handsome, the men looked as if they were all waiting to be interviewed for a 'top models' magazine.

Janice gave Sarah a sideways glance, which spoke volumes.

“Behave,” Sarah whispered. “None of that, not now and not later, OK?”

Janice just gave a sort of snort as if to say, “ah-yes like you would pass up the chance with any one of them.” The snort would have to suffice.

Two of the of the men stepped forward, one from Sarah's side and one from Janice’s. In the most courtly manner, each took the hand of their lady and positioned themselves, Janice and her escort leading, Sarah and hers behind.

The remaining men, had already taken positions at the door, the other two were some few paces ahead of Janice and her escort. As they reached the doors, the two men sprang forward, opening the twin doors in perfect unison.

The leading men had almost reached the Table; the most lavish and ornately dressed table either of the girls had ever seen. (Even in the films that Sarah had made mention of earlier.)

Before them the carpets had been laid in such a way as to form an inverted Y which gave the two couples a perfect runway to each side of the extremely long table.

About a third of the way to the far end were two placings set, which obviously, were for Janice and Sarah. At the far end on a throne like seat, looking even more beautiful, if that were possible, sat the lady Caolan.

“My children, welcome.” Caolan made no effort to stand, but she gave an elaborate gesture, which was understood by the two girls as being, come and sit down with me.

“Errm, Good evening, Caolan,” Janice spoke as if from the very top of her vocal range. Now she felt even more embarrassed.

This obviously warned Sarah that nervousness can make you sound odd, so she delicately cleared her throat and ventured her own greeting.

“Good evening Caolan, how beautiful this all is; thank you so much for the loan of the dresses, they are truly wonderful.” Sarah had no sooner finished her words, when she felt a chair being gently nestled into the backs of her legs.

“Please sit, both of you, make yourselves comfortable.” Caolan had seen that the girls were a little ill at ease and attempted to soften things a little.

“Are you hungry now?” Caolan went on, “something to drink? We have the most wonderful cellar here.”

Caolan nodded at the two men who had recently planted Janice and Sarah into their chairs. Without a single word the men left the room.

The two at the door, almost like magic, closed the door behind all four of them and they were gone, just like that, not a sound of the door closing.

The room now was almost silent.

The three ladies sat, smiling slightly, embalmed by the silence.

Surprisingly, it was Sarah who broke the thickening ice, “I cannot help wondering, Caolan, how can you be such a good host to total strangers?”

Sarah gave a small shrug to illustrate her feelings, then went onto ask, “Well, I mean, the bath and some food, would have been great, but honestly, this is, like, huge...”

Sarah stopped talking. She could see that Janice fully agreed with her and even though Janice still had that Odd feeling and her perceptions were running amok; she did manage a, “yes I agree, Caolan, this is really too much, I mean, in a good way of course.”

Now both the girls sat and stared at Caolan.

By way of a response, Caolan reached forward and took the tiny bell which was placed before her dinner setting. The ringing was, tiny, like the sound Sarah recalled that frozen peas made, when they fall into the best pan she has.

Instantly the doors opened and again two men appeared, one of them holding a large silver tray, in the way only waiters seem to master.

Upon the tray were two carafes and a bottle of wine. The man who had only a white cloth draped over one arm, took the bottle and showed it to Caolan.

He did not wait for any further instruction, he opened it, wrapped the cloth somehow around the neck of the bottle and placed it on the side table.

By now the glasses already in place on the table were filled and Caolan, sat with her glass in hand, in the position of “a toast”.

Janice and Sarah, picked up their glasses and followed suit.

“After so long, so very long, I welcome you my dears. Caolan, raised her glass to her lips, took a sip, then another; she put down her glass carefully and looked at each of the girls who had turned deathly pale. Caolan smiled, very slightly, “Ah, yes, you will be surprised, forgive me dear children, I thought we should begin straight away, the night is advancing and we would not want to miss a single moment, would we?”

Janice and Sarah were truly robbed of words.

“W w-what d-do you m-mean, are you going to hurt us after all?” Sarah managed to splutter these words. Then began crying.

“My dears, no one is going to hurt YOU” Caolan was genuinely amused, “if you compose yourselves, I shall tell you everything you must know,” Caolan picked up her glass and drank more deeply.

This time the girls did the same. Actually Sarah managed to finish hers. Which again as if by magic was refilled so quickly, by the almost invisible man who had been lurking, she thought, just out of sight.

“So you feel less distressed, which I am certain that you are,” smiling still, she saw that the two, were sitting slightly less bolt-upright now, so she continued, “People, most people, give thoughts to the future. Especially about their own lives, wondering what will be, how things will happen and so on; people also think about about what happens, even farther into the future, when they are no longer alive.”

Caolan, waited to see what reaction this may have upon her two guests.

As Caolan continued speaking, Janice saw that the food had already arrived, she and Sarah had somehow eaten most of it, both of them drank quite a lot of the wine and yet, even though in the back of her mind, an hour at least, must have passed, Caolan still speaking, was just about to make another important point.

“What was it Caolan had said?” Janice had that strange feeling again. She looked across the table at Sarah, who until now had been far more 'down to earth' about everything, than she had. Sarah was looking at Caolan, she was listening, but something else too.

Sarah was not just listening, she was talking with Caolan, about, what?

Janice tried to catch up on the conversation.

Janice was still staring at Sarah, with a stupid expression on her face.

Suddenly Sarah, who had been speaking, became silent. Looking back at Janice, Sarah said, “ah dear sister, you have come back to us, I was just saying to Caolan that you are the thoughtful one of us,” Sarah gave a small giggle and went on; “How do you manage dear Haefina, to keep everything so close to your chest?” Sarah stopped, looking at Janice, startled. “What?”

“You called me by another name, Haefina, not Janice, how? Why? What is HAPPENING... Janice fell to the floor, sobbing and crying.

Only her noises; as neither of the other two women could see her under the table.

Sarah, sprang to her feet and raced around the table.

She took Janice in her arms, as they both sat on the floor, rocking her like a baby.

“There, there” Sarah kept rocking Janice and spoke very slowly, her words seemed more familiar to Janice, than ever before, the things Sarah was saying also began to become clearer in Janice's mind.

“You see dear sister, for Caolan has reminded me of it, we have been sisters for a very, no extremely, long time; our names are not, I should say were not, Janice and Sarah.” Sarah paused and turned Janice toward her, so she could look into her eyes.

“You are Haefina, my sister. I am Maewen;” we lived here in this house, hundreds of years ago. This village was mostly able to survive because of our parents wealth. Do you feel it Haefina? Can you let yourself free of the 21^st century and remember?” Sarah had tears in her eyes now too. Partly from the memories and partly because her dear sister, could not remember as she could.

“Let me up, please help me to my chair, Maewen, yes it is coming into my mind; I have been feeling strange ever since we met Caolan.” Haefina now sitting back at the table, drank some more wine. Taking several gulps, she continued, in a monotone voice, which even surprised Maewen.

“I can remember my room, the pictures and the staircase, we grew up here, did we not?” Haefina, gave a smile, one of happiness lost. Then she said, “I remember now the races we had up those stairs, my word, we could not have been more than eight, or nine years old.” The more she spoke the more she remembered.

“Then we were taught how to do all those boring things, remember? English, reading, writing, deportment. Oh, how we hated our tutor. So, what then? We could not have been much more than sixteen, maybe seventeen, my mind is screaming to remember, but I cannot get passed that, that night... “ Haefina suddenly looked shocked and went as white as the tablecloth.

“NO, Noooo, Oh My God, it cannot Be'ee.”

Caolan, who had been sitting as still as death, made a motion with her hand, both Haefina and Maewen turned toward her at once, straightened and sat, waiting.

“My dears, you now both remember, yes; it is horrible to remember such things. It is why I am here to help you, guide you, for tonight, tonight is the five hundredth year anniversary, of that night. Rare are the times that such events as those coincide with the opening of the vale. The opening of the place where dead and living can for a very brief moment, mingle.” Caolan was clearly speaking to the girls, but her mouth was no longer moving. She was, once again, speaking directly into their minds.

Neither of the girls gave any sign that this was so, they sat still, very still and listened.

Caolan's voice was like a smooth silk glove, soothing their troubled minds.

She continued, “from the beginning, the night of your death, your souls have been waiting, lingering in the places where you could hold on and be transported by each new life, as it became necessary passing into a new birth; as soon as a baby was born and lived, your soul would move into it, and thrive.

You have done it all this one night; for tonight, souls and the living mix together.

Nothing could prevent this night, you being here on the moors, on the very night, the vale opens was our plan, our doing. This will not happen again for another five hundred years. Now, is the time for your revenge, dear Haefina, dear Maewen.” Caolan, stopped speaking and again she rang the small bell.

No wine on a tray, this time.

All four of the now, not so well dressed men entered, dragging a fifth person into the room.

Haefina and Maewen, no longer remembered this persons new name, they could only see him as he has always looked, always been in his rotten soul.

The man tried to speak.

Like a striking cobra, a hand struck him hard across the face.

“You will remain silent,” Caolan's command was finite. Nothing further was said. She gestured to her men, who diligently assisted the two girls, Haefina and Maewen up from the table; escorting them to a set of chairs, at the rear of the room, close to the fireplace where long metal pokers were sticking into the lively, very hot fire.

“This,” Caolan went on looking toward the man, “This thing, this person, as was, came to me many times, begging to be allowed across. I should explain my dears; you see before you, not a ferry-man, as your silly human fables tell. I am the being, an old, old soul, the one that allows, or does not allow, the dead with their souls, to cross over to the other side. The other side of existence.

The place where I, and my faithful servants linger, is not the other side of everything. Only the other side of the living; which for the living is DEATH. And even that delay is only a very short one. Unless, my dears; unless, an act of such brutality, such horror has taken place.

I am she who decides. NO! I have already made that decision; NOT this one, not this soul ever.. not EVER..

This thing, this person that was, this dispicable soul, was something HE liked to call a person, by the name of Roger.

Now we all see him as he really is.”

Caolan just nodded, nothing more than that; and the four men, began.

Haefina, looked at her sister; Maewen was actually grinning.

“At last, at long long last,” Maewen gave a sigh, almost of ecstasy as she watched what the four men were doing with ?? With ??? With... FAECRA, I remember you now, you – you, BASTARD...” Maewen shuddered as the memory registered.

“Faecra, the Raven... How you were so proud of that name. You raping, torturing, murdering swine.” Maewen stepped forward until she was close enough, then spat straight into his eye.

Haefina had also recovered herself. Her feelings were now racing, any last lingering links to the 21^st century were now gone; just as her sister had, Haefina, stepped forward and kicked this Faecra creature, hard, right between the legs. His scream was brief but the obvious pain that it caused was exceedingly rewarding, Haefina smiled her small victory.

This interruption was brief.

Caolan, knowing she had explained just enough for the sisters to understand, now went onto provide a choice for young women to make.

“My dear children, just as you both have done, so many times yourselves; this Faecra, this raven, as he liked to title himself, has been inhabiting peoples bodies for so long he almost forgot the soul, he really was. This is the choice you can make. Faecra can feel; everything a body should feel. We can also cause him such agony, that even his soul will know of it.

However, his soul, his one and only soul, on this night, this unique night, in hundreds of years of nights, can be killed too.” Snapping her glare toward Faecra, Caolan spoke directly to him for the first time.

“Faecra, raven, man, dead-man, rotten-soul; you are doomed to be the plaything of these sisters tonight; those who you wronged beyond need. You wronged them, hurt them, for your own gratification; everything you did will come back to you tonight, ten-fold. Only then, Faecra; when in the darkest corner of your mind you believe it to be over: I, yes I Caolan, lady of the “Crossing” will put you Not Across, to that place of infinity, I shall instead send you where few have gone. Even I have been loath to send souls to That place. Torment is a word too insignificant to describe simply being there; skull splitting agony, will be your daily bread; reprieve, hope and any future will all look exactly the same to you. Not many have been able to imagine such a place even exists. Living people call what they believe to be such a bad place, Hell. Ha-ha .. Confine yourself to this thought Faecra. Hell, would be the mattress upon which you would make sweet love. This place, is one thousand times more retched than your small mind can imagine. Finally, know this, Faecra; it will be your soul I am sending there; no flesh to harm, no hair to burn, not bones to break; just your soul, which will feel, every single thing; suffer without forgiving, no dying to shut it off, no going insane to escape into somewhere else. YOU will feel everything, every single moment. Moments, in a place where time does not exist, is a very, very long time indeed. BEGIN.”

Caolan had concluded.

Her next command to the men was adhered to immediately.

This was the longest Haefina and Maewen had heard Caolan speak, even inside their heads. She said all this out loud, so they all could hear.

Maewen who, just like the body she uses in the 21 century, was far more outward than her sister. Even so; Maewen was actually beginning to feel prickly beads of perspiration. The visions that ran through her mind, imagining an eternity of agony, gave her a moments pause. She was pleased that she got over it quickly.

This bastard man, this rotten soul; Faecra had done more than enough to deserve the end he is about to receive.

Caolan, asked the girls, if they needed to be shown, or reminded of his crimes; as difficult as it may be, to be reminded, in such detail.

Maewen could remember all too well, Haefina was trying to block it out.

She could not blame her sister for that.

“ Very well,” Caolan said, as she took each girl by the hand, “now hold your sisters hand so that we are a circle.” Each of them held a hand and the memories began to skip through the girls minds. Caolan had told them it would be brief, so that only a fast ride past the awful events would be glimpsed.

True to her word, events unfolded and flashed through their mind, from one to the other; Instantly, it is October 30^th 1512 tomorrow is the festival, welcoming the harvest, saying goodbye to the summer sunshine. The girls were happy because it was a fun day. They waited for their father to come home, he always brought gifts. Mother is telling the servants to prepare the house it is alive with people buzzing all about. It becomes late, the darkness is creeping over the moors. Father is late, he is never late.

Men are banging at the heavy front door. Faecra is there, he does business with father? The servants open the door, the men all burst into the house. Mother screams, the men servants are struck to the ground, dead. Now some of the women servants are screaming too. A body being dragged into the house, it is father, bleeding and his clothes torn almost gone. Faecra, again Faecra shouting “he will would have it all, he would not wait another week.” Haefina, is grabbed by the hair, two men pulling at her arms, Maewen too, is now beside her sister, both being punched and stripped. Mother screams again, this time the men hold her against the floor, and they are...; she screams louder, this time one man took his knife, no that cannot beee…..; Mother did not scream again. Haefina screams she is now completely naked, Maewen is tied to her sister by one wrist. Two men, then two more, so it wrong, the girls scream and then, Faecra. He is kicking Maewen, he kicks her over and over again, in her body and head. He turns toward the door, father was still on the floor, alive. Still alive. Men dragged him over near Haefina. “You will, or you die now” suddenly fathers head is gone, a man stands sword in hand, grinning like a fool. Haefina screams, men picked her up off the floor, holding her legs and arms. Faecra, is laughing, standing between Haefina's legs held tight by his men, Faecra sings out loud, as he raped her again. Haefina screams once, her head rolls to the floor. Two men jumped on Maewen, jumping on her tiny flattened, very small body. Maewen's head is flat, squashed. Faecra turns his head looking up to the sky,howling, like an animal.

The Memories flashing inside their heads stopped,as quickly as they had begun.

One evening of mayhem, torture, rape and murder. It was crystal clear to the girls now. Loving family, sisters united in hatred, one man. Faecra. (The Raven)

The girls took a poker each from the hot fire. “It is unlikely you will be able to remember the agony you caused, Faecra, but let us help jog your memory just a little” with that said, Haefina pushed the almost white hot poker into the right eye of this foul creature; while her sister was cooking his private parts, to let him understand the meaning of pain.

By the time the girls had finished, not much of the body could be recognized as Faecra, Roger, or anyone, anything else, for that matter.

Caolan, Took the girls by their hand, “it is almost time, I must say goodbye, very soon, dear souls. I shall be taking this,” Caolan pointed at the wreck of Faecra, “with me, and his soul of course, which will not be coming back.”

“What of his body now, I mean in our time, of our Janice and Sarah bodies?” Maewen was most concerned, “will he be gone, or will it look as if we did something to him, even killed him, you know that Roger?”

“Do not worry,” Caolan was comforting, “it will be as if he never was, which is true, is it not? He will cease to exist, then and now”

“But is that not also true of us?” Asked Haefina

“ My dear, you children still have your souls, whereas this Faecra, in one hour will not. Do not trouble yourself with these details.” Caolan smiled and began to fade. So too did the six men and Faecra. Faintly they heard Caolan “live long and prosper, farewell my children.” Everything shimmered, a strange mist took their sight and their awareness.. The fire died down, became ash, both girls, dizzy, looked about themselves, it all faded.

Janice slowly opened her eyes, she felt the brisk air of the morning, they were in their sleeping bags, at the place where Sarah had asked “are we lost, or what?”

“Whose stupid idea was it to come hiking in sodding October?” Asked Janice, “I'm bloody frozen.”

“Come in here with me then,” Sarah unzipped her sleeping bag and as the morning light seeped over the land around them they could see the cops of trees on the small hill in the distance...

“See?” Said Janice, “I told you we weren't lost. There are the trees”

“You are a genius Jan, but I can't help thinking I've forgotten something.”

“Yeah, I felt like that too, hey, its nothing, I know that I've got the map and the compass, what more could we want?”

“Move over then, hurry its cold out here,”

Sarah, shifted, just a little as Janice started sliding into the warm sleeping bag.

“There is one thing I want.

“What's that?” Asked Janice.

“I want you to get your cold feet off my bum, now, or the warmth sharing is canceled.”

“Sorry, but you move over a bit more.”

“Ahaa,” Shouted Sarah, “I remember what it is that has been nagging me; I forgot to tell my mum to feed the cat.”

“Ooo, is that all?”

“Forget it,” said Janice, “it was Halloween last night and we were stuck here in bloody Cornwall, all on our own, with nothing going on.

I bet the cat didn’t go out either....”

The “Very” End...

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