Dead Village Read online

  Patrick ran to the edge of the river and grabbed the spare rod. He reached out with the rod to try and catch the bear with the tip. But the rod fell short by about two feet.

  Now Patrick couldn’t hide his lie, as the bears head slowly sank below the dark surface.

  Although he had denied owning the bear, a sudden feeling of loss came over him.

  Now he didn’t care what Tully thought of him.

  He could feel the rage building up inside him, as his new best friend would now be lost forever in the fast flowing, deep river.

  “No, Blue Boy,” he yelled.

  “Huh?” Tully whispered, puzzled, as he spun around.

  “Blue Boy, Blue Boy,” Patrick repeated and pointed across the river.

  “Blue Boy?” Tully groaned, confused.

  “That was my bear, and you’re just like my mother, you bastard,” Patrick shouted. “I fucking hate you both.”

  As the bears head sank under the surface, Patrick grabbed his bag and ran off, crying, as the large trout pulled the rod and reel into and under the water.

  * * * * *

  Tully didn’t remember walking home from the forest that day, because now his thoughts were fully focused on the little bears head.

  Coincidence, and nothing more, that’s all it is, Tully thought. Tully was aware that Patrick was always playing at the river bank, down near the bridge.

  He had simply picked it up from the rivers edge, and now Tully felt that he had over reacted towards Patrick.

  The bear was dead. The spear had killed it. He remembered its grey lifeless eyes before he kicked out at it.

  Now though, he would have to face Francis’s cousin in regards to his treatment of her son.

  “Will this damn curse ever go away from us?” Tully whispered. When Tully arrived home though, he didn’t mention the incident with the bears head. He just didn’t want to unnerve Francis. Francis has been through too much already, he thought.

  Francis’s cousin was never to mention the incident regarding Patrick either though, because she was simply unaware of it. Patrick couldn’t tell his mother that he had disobeyed her when she told him to get rid of the bear, so now she would never know.

  However, when Patrick seen Tully walking on the street, he would cross over to the other side of the road. Patrick would never speak to Tully again.

  * * * * *

  Somewhere in Scotland, Jimmy Watson awoke with a shout, and ran from his room.

  He slammed his fist on his friend’s door five times and when the door answered he could see John Hutchison sitting up on his bed, a bewildered look on his face.

  “It’s over John,” he shouted.

  “I know Jimmy, but don’t ask me how I know.”

  “It just came to me John, I was sleeping an…“

  “I know, I know Jimmy, I felt it as well. It was like a message. The creature is dead, and for us, it’s finally over.”

  Jimmy’s daughter rushed into the room, followed by his little grandson, who was rubbing at his eyes.

  “Are you all right father? What’s wrong?” she asked, puzzled.

  “There’s nothing wrong Jayne, I couldn’t be better,” he said as he and hugged her and the child.

  “We can return home now,” John Hutchison said.

  “Yes, and you can go back to being a sergeant again,” John’s wife stated.

  * * * * *

  Down in the forest, everything was quiet, as the old rabbit limped along the lane and into its burrow.

  The river was calm now, and deep down at the bottom, the small bears head lay gently swaying in the current.

  Suddenly it moved, in a jerking pulsating kind of way.

  It spun and twisted across the bed of the river, causing a cloud of silt, as the large fish tore out its remaining glass eye and swallowed it.

  Now its eyeless ripped face looked more evil than ever before.

  Two small river crabs, tugged and fought over what was left of Mr Cliff, and dragged the remains into some weeds, as some other small crabs pulled and tore at the stuffing.

  Slowly they ripped it to shreds, and now it was only an unrecognizable mess of blue and black strips, moving slowly along the bed of the river.

  Darkness descended once more over the sprawling forest, and a hushed calmness spread its essence up to the cloud filled sky.

  A light drizzling rain covered the heavy trees as the old rabbit turned and looked nosily out from its burrow, and yawned.

  * * * * *

  Many thousands of miles away, Dan Winters jumped up from his sleep, his headache gone.

  Something had happened, something wonderful.

  He opened the blind with his fingers and stared out at the sunlight covering the land.

  He didn’t know what this feeling of almost euphoria was that he was getting inside his troubled mind, but he somehow knew that his problems were finally over.

  “What’s wrong with you now Dan?” Lynn asked, as Dan smiled down at her.

  “Not a damn thing,” he replied. “What about the headache?” “Huh?”

  “For once you aren’t squirming in pain.”

  “Everything is all right honey,” he said, “my headaches are gone for good, trust me,” he said, smiling.

  “Are you sure you’re okay Dan?”

  “Yes, I’m more than sure I’m okay. In fact, I’ve never felt better. It’s over, it’s over for good, and I’m free of it, do you understand me? Free!”

  Dan almost sprang from the bed and ran out through the bedroom door.

  He silently opened the doors of each of his children’s rooms, and stared lovingly at them as they slept.

  No one could describe the feeling that coursed through his veins, and he dropped to his knees in prayer.

  “Thank you Lord,” he sobbed, “thank you.”

  Lynn stood behind him and smiled.

  “But how Dan?” Lynn asked puzzled.

  Dan stood up and held her in his arms in a loving embrace.

  “We gave it the old one two honey,” he said. “The old one two.”

  Up the street the old railway bridge stood silent in the morning sun. A light breeze wafted up from underneath, and the old rusty chains clinked together, and swayed gently.