The door on the box creaks and cracks
open a few inches, but no further. It seems to be stuck….straining at its
hinges. The tension is knuckle cracking. Behind them they can hear that demon
woman on her thundering beasts very nearly upon them now, but no one turns to
look. The boy concentrates on the door, willing it to open. He can almost swear
that the snake winks at him. They wait. The dust settles a bit more and suddenly
the door comes open with a squeal and a lurch and bangs wide open. Beyond the
door is a land of trees and flowers, like the Garden of Eden. There are fruit trees
of every kind, bushes, birds, bees and insects….animals wander about in the
lush green grass, chewing contentedly.
“WWAAARRRR” says the camel, rushing towards
the scene and tripping over the doorstep. But she rights herself and plunges
into the verdant landscape with the messenger close behind, shepherding the boy
and the old lady inside. They don’t have much time for dallying because the
door begins to close almost immediately; leaving Demona and the elderly man in
the suit on the other side. The camel goes straight to an apple tree and begins
munching on the juicy fruit.
When they turn around the door and box have
disappeared. They are completely enclosed by green nature. Even the sun seems
to be tempered to suit their pleasant environment.
The heady aroma of fruit and flowers
overpowers their senses and they stand bemused and stunned by the beauty around
them. The old lady wanders as in a daze amongst the flowers, gently touching a
leaf or a petal here and there and smiling at the butterflies. The boy is more
interested, like the camel, in the different fruit upon the trees. There are
pears and figs and pomegranates, though none of the names are known to him. It
is an enchanted land. The messenger watches their reactions with kind
amusement.
The camel has found a river flowing in four
different directions and they all stop to drink, lying down on the cool grass
and cupping the water in their hands. The old lady wades into the shallows and
begins washing the many years of dust and dirt from her body.
She has taken off her clothes and stands
completely naked in the moving stream. The boy watches her with his mouth
hanging open. Truly she seems again like a goddess to him. He can even see the
divine light streaming from her body. She smiles at him, aware of his gaze, and
begins to wash herself. The camel seems to have followed her example and is
also standing in the water with a beatific expression on its face, its swollen
feet cooling in the crystal water.
The boy jumps in and begins splashing
around, diving and ducking his head under in ecstasy. This is even better than
the salt pans. Here is shade and softness, gentle light and so much food he
can’t stop eating. The messenger knows he will have a tummy ache in the morning…but
he is young and will survive.
Once they have all had their fill of the
river, they retreat to under a vast oak tree and make their camp for the night.
The old lady has tied a clean piece of cloth round her waist and is busy making
a garland of flowers for her hair. Her skin gleams. The boy sits and watches
her…spellbound. She looks more beautiful than he has ever seen and finds it
hard to come close to her. He is glad she is happy. She is his life.
They watch the deer browse close at hand,
unafraid, and birds flit from tree to tree…a wonderland of plenty.
Soon they are all fast asleep, the
soporific power of the smells and sights working their magic on the tired
wanderers. In the middle of the night the messenger awakes and places a blanket
over the old lady. A slight chill has crept into the air. The boy lies at her
feet, invulnerable to everything while he is close to her.
The birds begin to chirp and chatter at the
first hint of light in the sky, and the boy wakes up to listen to them. The
messenger is nowhere to be seen, but his camel stands quietly nearby, munching
away contentedly. The boy turns over to look at the sleeping old lady and feels
his heart gladden. He slides up next to her and reaches out and touches her
face. Either she is asleep or she pretends not to notice. How he desires this
old woman with her wrinkled skin and sagging breasts. He leans forward and
kisses her on her wrinkled lips. He can still smell the sour aroma of old
nicotine. It is a smell he never wants to forget: because it is her. Still she
sleeps…or pretends to. He lays his head down on her bony chest and closes his
eyes again. He is happier than he has ever been in his life.
Sometime later the camel gives a low pitched
“nurrrr,” sound which wakes him up. He doesn’t want to move away from the old
lady. He likes lying here with her. It feels…right. Then the smell of coffee
wafts across his nostrils and he sits upright…sniffing the air. The messenger
has made a fire and collected some fruit and nuts for their breakfast. The boy
is beside him in an instant.
After breakfast, while the messenger is
packing their things, there is a sudden flurry and a flapping from the
undergrowth all around them. The camel begins her same old nonsense, bucking
and barking and the messenger has to keep a tight hold on her rope. The deer
and rabbits that have been browsing suddenly take off and dash away into the
forest. Birds take to the wing and within a few moments there is absolute
silence around them. Something has scared them. The trio wait breathlessly, eyes
peeling the forest. Soon they hear something coming through the underbrush,
getting closer and closer – and then a man walks into view.
A most amazing man…for he is covered in
scars and scratches. He limps on a leg that seems twisted all the wrong way
round. He only has one eye and there are deep nail marks and bright, livid scars
on his cheeks. His arm has a bloody bandage wrapped around it and all over his
body there are gouges and gashes in his flesh. Some of the wounds are old and
healed with white scars…others are still quite fresh and pink, or bleeding. He
is a mess. He is a very strange man. And the strangest part is that he doesn’t
seem bothered by his injuries – he doesn’t even seem to notice them.
Clytemnestra is showing the whites of her eyes. Something about the man is
terrifying her, but for all that he seems a cheery chappie with a ruddy
complexion.
The boy is fascinated by his wounds. How
could he have got them? He must be awfully clumsy, he thinks. He knew a boy at
school like that who was always falling over things or walking into things.
Maybe because of his missing eye he didn’t see so well. He remembered the trick
they used to do. Try and pick up a glass of water with one eye closed. It is
very difficult to judge the distance.
“Hello there,” he calls in a good humoured
way. He has a deep, sunny voice. “Nice to have some visitors for a change. It’s
been quite a while I can tell you,” he says, sticking out his good arm and
shaking hands with everyone…even the old lady. “Welcome. I’m sure you will
enjoy the place.”
But the little trio aren’t so sure. Things
were starting to look mighty suspicious.
“Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” he
beams at them. “But, tell you what, why don’t you come over to my place and I
can make you some lunch? It’s not too far away. What do you say? You can meet
the wife.”
None of the three look that keen on the
idea, but it would be rather rude to refuse – and who knows what will happen
then. Rather be safe and humour the poor fellow. So they pack up camp, taking
as long as they can about it, and load everything onto the camel, who tries to
bite the messenger for his pains. She is very tired of having to carry all
their baggage about.
The man waits very patiently, smiling all
the while, happy in his new found friends.
“Come along then,” he says when they are
ready, and the caravan sets off down the forest trail. Still no birds sing…and
no animals in sight.
The man limps off ahead with so much vigour
and gusto that the others are hard put to follow. After an hour’s walk they
come to a large clearing. “It’s just at the bottom of that little hill over
there…by those rocks.”
As they get closer they can see a cave at
the base of the hill with a patch of bare sand in front of it.
“And this is my home,” he announces with a
wave of his good hand. “My Elfin Grotto, so to speak.”
And so it looks, for off to one side is a
waterfall and many fruit trees and bushes.
“Please be welcome.”
The messenger ties the camel to a nearby
tree and the four people move to the mouth of the cave. The boy loves caves and
can’t wait to see what’s inside.
“It’s a bit dark inside, but that’s the way
my wife likes it. I did mention my wife, didn’t I? Yes, I am most fortunate.
But please, follow me and I will introduce you.”
The man enters the cave and the three
adventurers cautiously follow him in. They go slowly for it is quite dark in
there. The first thing that strikes them in the nose is the smell. It takes their
breath away. The boy grabs his nose and says “Phew.” The messenger and the old
lady merely pull a face. It takes some time for their eyes to adjust to the
gloom, but what they see is not very comforting. Broken and chewed bones of
animals and muck are strewn across the floor, piles of faeces everywhere…the
stink is incredible. Their instinct is to turn and get out of that hell-hole.
“Hello dear,” says the man. “I have brought
some friends to meet you.”
They all freeze in terror as they see a
tiger crouching in the darkness at the back of the cave. Two green eyes watch
them unwaveringly.
The tiger growls softly in its throat.
“It’s only me my love,” says the mangled
man. “I have brought some visitors for lunch.”
Another growl…louder this time.
The boy is sure that the man means that they are
the ‘lunch’.
“No, dear. They are friends,” says the man,
and goes closer to the tiger who is now showing her huge teeth and growling in
a rather ominous way under her breath. The man takes another tentative step and
the tiger lurches forward with a fearsome howl and rakes at the man with her
claws. He backs away rapidly making soft placating sounds to the tiger. The
rest of them have also moved back about ten paces without even realizing it.
“She’s not feeling well today,” he says, but
he doesn’t want to disappoint his guests, so he turns to address her again. “They just want to say hello….” But the tiger
has had enough. She gives a full throated roar that rattles the rocks, and charges
at them. Everyone runs for their lives. The boy doesn’t even know he’s
screaming until he’s way out in the countryside and can hear his voice in his
ears. Eventually he risks a glance over his shoulder to see if the tiger is on
his tail. Only then does he slow down. He sees the messenger helping the old
lady to safety and the mutilated man standing at the entrance of the cave, still
talking to the tiger, obviously trying to pacify her. The boy runs towards the
old lady and the messenger and they untie the camel and prepare to leave.
“Oh no, you mustn’t go,” says the man. “She
doesn’t mean any harm. She’s not having a good day today. She suffers from her
nerves you see. Don’t worry.”
They look at the man as if he’s mad. The boy
has never seen a real mad man before and can’t take his eyes off him.
“Please stay for lunch. It won’t take long
to cook.”
“I am afraid we have to go,” says the
messenger, and the boy is much relieved to hear that.
“Please stay,” A cunning look comes into his
only eye and it wobbles a little. “I know a lovely bower, further along, besides
a bubbling brook. Let me make it up to you. There we will be far enough away
from my wife and won’t bother her. I am sorry she isn’t very sociable today…she
just isn’t used to visitors anymore. Anyway. We’ll be far enough away…and she only
comes out of her cave at night. You’ll be quite safe. Come on…I’ll show you the
way.”
And once again they have no choice but to be
polite. The boy likes this less and less with every minute, but is fascinated
nonetheless.
“A bit of food and rest will fortify you for
your journey ahead…. come, eat and drink,” says the man, giving the pot a final
stir. “Why don’t you stay a little while? It’s lovely here isn’t it….please
stay. We don’t get many visitors.” He turns his head away to hide the tear in
his eye. “It is quite lonely here,” he confesses. “And Estrella gets a bit
cranky when she doesn’t have anyone to talk to. I worry about her. She’s not
really happy. To tell you the truth,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper, “I
am feeling rather…disheartened. It’s very difficult…she’s….she’s going through
a change, I think…she doesn’t talk much to me anymore…except to complain.”
They sit beside the fire, sparks floating up
into the clear air – the logs shifting and cracking as they burn, tongues of
blue and orange flame licking up from underneath the cooking pot. But no-one
says anything. They are too full of what has happened.
“We cannot stay,” says the messenger in a
kindly tone. “We are on a journey. A rather important one, and cannot stay too
long in one place. We are being pursued and need to keep moving.”
“Ah,” says the man, some of his good humour
coming back. “I understand, I have heard…”
“What have you heard?” asks the messenger.
“Things. I don’t quite know, except,
things….things are stirring.”
The messenger nods his head.
“So we must go.”
“But do have something to eat first, to
fortify you for your journey.”
Much as they want to, they can’t resist the
man’s invitation. He dishes out the green potage into wooden bowls and hands
them around. The meal looks very unappetizing, but they grit their teeth and
begin eating. The food is bitter, but other than that it tastes of
nothing….just gruel. No one has anything to say; everyone wishing they were far
away. Afterwards they lie down in the grass to rest…….and sink into a very deep
and dreamless sleep.
