The Cairn (Part one of three)
Kevin kicked rocks into the trees as he walked down the muddy path. He had his hands deep in his pockets and a sullen pout on his face. He was on a quest, you see.
The sunlight hurt his eyes, even filtered through the leaves of the trees that arched over him. Birds sat merrily tweeting, just out of sight. The air was warm, and smelled strongly of heather.
A man is standing on a tuft of grass, looking nervously at the sea of mud that surrounds him on the well-churned path.
He is wearing tweed. There are leather patches on the elbows of the arms that he has wrapped firmly around a suitcase. He is wearing spectacles, which are bent and skewed. Both lenses are cracked; a lightening bolt break from left to right. He is also dripping wet.
Kevin halts at the edge of the mud.
“Hey!” He calls. “Hey you!”
The man turns miserably to face Kevin.
“Oh.” He says. “It’s you.”
Kevin remembers his teddy. He dropped it into a muddy puddle once, one so deep that he had to dive in himself to fetch it. If that bear could talk, with its stuffing and its stitches wet and wretched, it would sound like this man.
Kevin sticks his tongue out at him.
“Yeah, it’s me.” He says. “Who’re you?”
The bedraggled man pushes his glasses with a finger.
“My name is Ga-”
“I don’t care.” Kevin interrupts. “I’ll call you teddy.”
“Teddy?”
“Why are you wet?”
“I am recently arrived here.” Teddy says as he waves his hand in a vain effort to dry it. “This is the afterbirth. Quite horrible really. You know what it smells of?”
“No.” Replies Kevin, mystified. Teddy does look like a recent arrival. He’s not even wearing wellies.
“Nothing. It smells of nothing at all. A big sink in reality.” Teddy makes a face. “Bleh.”
“Who’re you then?” Asks Kevin.
“You already asked that.” Teddy replies morosely. “And you wouldn’t let me answer.”
Kevin taps his foot impatiently. It’s a clear sign that he hasn’t got all day to wait around talking to strange wet men.
“Oh all right…” Kevin sighs. “Imagine that this world is soup.”
Kevin imagines.
“Mortal lives swirl about in its creamy substance adding currents of flavour as they skim through. Different people, different flavours, all combining and culminating in the most wonderful of culinary creations.” Teddy sighs again, this time with pleasure. “I love soup.”
Kevin groans. “So who are you?”
“I,” replies Teddy. “Am a crouton.”
Kevin is less than happy with this answer, but he is on a quest, so further inquisition will have to wait. He picks his way through the mud toward Teddy. His boots sink half a foot deep with a squelch. They pop as he pulls them back out.
“Gimme your hand.” He says.
Teddy reaches out cautiously and takes Kevin’s hand. His skin is cold, and the dampness has a slimy quality to it that Kevin does not care for at all. He helps Teddy get clear of the mud.
“I’m on a quest.” Announces Kevin, once they had both feet planted on firm ground.
Kevin wipes the slime from his hand on the seat of his trousers. Teddy half-heartedly tries to wipe his everything on a tree.
“A quest?” Teddy perks up a bit, reaching his natural cruising height of enthusiasm. Which isn’t very much. “What kind of a quest?”
“A valiant quest.” Says Kevin.
“A valiant quest?”
“Yes. I’m a Prince. Prince Kevin.” Kevin states proudly. “And I’m betrothed.”
Teddy peers over his cracked spectacles at Kevin. “You look a little young to be married.” He says primly.
“Not married, betrothed. It’s different.” Kevin says. “Besides, it’s not like age matters very much in this situation.”
“Why is that?”
“Because my betrothed is Time.”
The sunlight hurt his eyes, even filtered through the leaves of the trees that arched over him. Birds sat merrily tweeting, just out of sight. The air was warm, and smelled strongly of heather.
A man is standing on a tuft of grass, looking nervously at the sea of mud that surrounds him on the well-churned path.
He is wearing tweed. There are leather patches on the elbows of the arms that he has wrapped firmly around a suitcase. He is wearing spectacles, which are bent and skewed. Both lenses are cracked; a lightening bolt break from left to right. He is also dripping wet.
Kevin halts at the edge of the mud.
“Hey!” He calls. “Hey you!”
The man turns miserably to face Kevin.
“Oh.” He says. “It’s you.”
Kevin remembers his teddy. He dropped it into a muddy puddle once, one so deep that he had to dive in himself to fetch it. If that bear could talk, with its stuffing and its stitches wet and wretched, it would sound like this man.
Kevin sticks his tongue out at him.
“Yeah, it’s me.” He says. “Who’re you?”
The bedraggled man pushes his glasses with a finger.
“My name is Ga-”
“I don’t care.” Kevin interrupts. “I’ll call you teddy.”
“Teddy?”
“Why are you wet?”
“I am recently arrived here.” Teddy says as he waves his hand in a vain effort to dry it. “This is the afterbirth. Quite horrible really. You know what it smells of?”
“No.” Replies Kevin, mystified. Teddy does look like a recent arrival. He’s not even wearing wellies.
“Nothing. It smells of nothing at all. A big sink in reality.” Teddy makes a face. “Bleh.”
“Who’re you then?” Asks Kevin.
“You already asked that.” Teddy replies morosely. “And you wouldn’t let me answer.”
Kevin taps his foot impatiently. It’s a clear sign that he hasn’t got all day to wait around talking to strange wet men.
“Oh all right…” Kevin sighs. “Imagine that this world is soup.”
Kevin imagines.
“Mortal lives swirl about in its creamy substance adding currents of flavour as they skim through. Different people, different flavours, all combining and culminating in the most wonderful of culinary creations.” Teddy sighs again, this time with pleasure. “I love soup.”
Kevin groans. “So who are you?”
“I,” replies Teddy. “Am a crouton.”
Kevin is less than happy with this answer, but he is on a quest, so further inquisition will have to wait. He picks his way through the mud toward Teddy. His boots sink half a foot deep with a squelch. They pop as he pulls them back out.
“Gimme your hand.” He says.
Teddy reaches out cautiously and takes Kevin’s hand. His skin is cold, and the dampness has a slimy quality to it that Kevin does not care for at all. He helps Teddy get clear of the mud.
“I’m on a quest.” Announces Kevin, once they had both feet planted on firm ground.
Kevin wipes the slime from his hand on the seat of his trousers. Teddy half-heartedly tries to wipe his everything on a tree.
“A quest?” Teddy perks up a bit, reaching his natural cruising height of enthusiasm. Which isn’t very much. “What kind of a quest?”
“A valiant quest.” Says Kevin.
“A valiant quest?”
“Yes. I’m a Prince. Prince Kevin.” Kevin states proudly. “And I’m betrothed.”
Teddy peers over his cracked spectacles at Kevin. “You look a little young to be married.” He says primly.
“Not married, betrothed. It’s different.” Kevin says. “Besides, it’s not like age matters very much in this situation.”
“Why is that?”
“Because my betrothed is Time.”