Story number 3

[smokingboot]

I don't even know why I'm writing this and not doing what I'm meant to be doing.

This creative block is driving me nuts!



When I awoke it was dark, and there was Michael staring down at me as usual.

It was all too hot and the air was thick and everything itched and I couldn’t move. And Michael himself was even more spindly than I remembered. His nose stuck out over the cot, and his tiny eyes moved around behind it.

‘Back again then,’ He said.

I was, but it had changed. No bothy and no peat fire and no singing woman. A place too hot and bright and full of bunched up cloth around my throat, across my chest. I remembered her too, and wanted her to sing to me, but she was nowhere to be seen.

‘Where is the road up the hill? How far are we from the well? What is that smell?’ For all I could smell was sharp and new, and had nothing to do with home at all. ‘No, you have come further away, not closer,’ Michael shook his head. ‘This is not the way home for you.’

‘But it is for you or - who is that?’ I saw a woman in white. She was not the singing woman. I can’t breathe in this heat, I thought, I am choking and it feels wrong and it smells wrong.

‘It is only cleanness that you smell, ignorant girl,’ whispered Michael. ‘I knew you wouldn’t like it. I knew.’

‘And where is she then?’ For I wondered if the warmth would be less heavy on my chest if she was near.

‘They are making her ready for you. She cannot wait to see you.’

‘Is it all as hot as this? I am all cramped.’

‘If you’d spare yourself cramp, move around. See, you can if you try.’

And I tried but I was too tired. ‘Weak,’ I said, ‘This is stupid. I can’t do anything.’ And maybe because I was so tired I started to cry.

‘No, you can’t,’ said Michael, ‘But you can stay and get better. You can get used to it. It is much warmer here.’

I looked around and saw there were others like me, almost like me. But they could not see Michael. There was a strange feeling in my stomach. I know what that is, I thought. I am hungry.

But then I will be too heavy and hot, and Michael’s eyes flashed just the way I remembered them.

‘If you eat the food, you will have to stay,’ He said, ‘If you eat or drink you are part of it and this will be your new home. Is that what you want?’

Well, I didn’t know. As far as I could see were others lying in little cots under the glass light, some wailing, some sleeping, but none like us. None who could see like me or remember like me. None of them had Michael. He looked just awful and I asked him what had happened. He shrugged. ‘I am a bit hungry too. And they named me so it’s not so easy...’

Yes, that was something else. If you eat or drink their food or if they name you, you can get stuck. Of course, that was why Michael was here. He was more than hungry, he was famished and he was stuck.

Michael was watching me to see how much I would remember. ‘She named you,’ I said, ‘They named you, and then…’ he looked all pale and trembled like a little boy made out of egg white. He was no good at this. I didn’t want him to cry.

‘And now you are there,’ he whispered, ‘And I am out here, all cold. And you don’t even want to be there, you don’t like the heat. It’s not fair!’

I tried to stretch out towards him, with these funny little... hands... my finger nearly touched his nose but I was too weak and small.

‘This is a stupid shape.’ I said.

‘I liked it,’ said Michael.

‘I never did,’ I said.

‘No, you never did,’ agreed Michael. I wanted to cuddle him then, because he was so unhappy, but I didn’t. I just couldn’t reach. And anyway, he was shaking, burning hot like everything else under the light and the glass. And I wondered where the roads were and he said they hadn’t really changed, unless I looked at them the new way.

In the new way they were much bigger and covered the sea and sky, and you didn’t ride them yourself but were carried by great hard beetles and flat birds, and all your words and pictures filled the air and the colours were as flat as the birds, but there were lots of them, and there was lots to do if you liked words.

But you had to stay with the warm people. You had to sleep with them and play with them and work with them and you would forget the old things, the ravens and the black dog and the well, the rathe and the lough and the road, and our brothers and sisters in rags, hovering on the sticks of fences, perched on the old trees waiting to go home. And you couldn’t fly by yourself any more, unless the annis came for you.

‘Only they killed her off a long time ago,’ Said Michael. ‘They put an iron bead in her heart.’

For they have these beads now, and they mean a lot, it seems. And I looked at Michael and it seemed to me that for one who understood how it was too hot and too dull and too cramped and way too small, he wanted to be where I was really badly.

Another woman in white came by. I told her to take me to the window so I could see it all. They don’t always do what you want, especially if there are lots of them and they are all talking to each other, but if you get one by itself you can normally persuade it. So she took me there, and I stared out at it all, so bright and fast.

And all the time, Michael was next to me, nearly crying. So when we turned around, I asked him why.

‘I’m so hungry,’ he was trying not to weep, ‘She’s going to feed you soon, and I never…’

Milk. We all like milk. Poor Michael.

So they took me through to her, and her face lit up and she was beautiful. Truly. The most beautiful. She was all I could think of. And she lifted me up and I knew how much she loved me, and I just stared at her for a while, so lucky, I thought, lucky lucky me, and I almost let her feed me as she held me and smiled. I heard poor Michael whimper beside me, and water from his eyes fell onto my skin. It was salt and hot and I remembered everything.

So sad. After all, yes, it was too hot here. And he needed it, and I...didn’t really.

So I looked at her one more time, because she was so beautiful, and then I closed my eyes and slipped away, just peeled out from under it, and it was much easier than you think before you do it, and Michael smiled and slipped in where I had been. He would have said thank you, but we both know it’s rude.

The others were waiting outside, cawing and flapping anxiously, in case I changed my mind at the last minute. And the night cooled me and lifted me up, and I could breathe deep and I flew again, properly, feeling the others singing around me. They had been worried that this time I would stay and never return, but that is not my way. Home, home, to the old road and the hill and the shivering wind!

There is never any need to feel sorry. I looked back just once and they were perfect together. She never even felt me leave. And for me, her face began to fade when I left and returned to the starlight and my own kin.

Had I not stopped to tell you, I would have forgotten her completely.


Copyright Debbie Gallagher as usual. God, am I going to have to write this at the bottom of everything?