Day 22: I Hear Her Singing Through The Wires
Och! December's looming large. What do you all want for Christmas?
The sounds of a party met them as they made their way across the field. It hit Hannah suddenly, like the sound of a train emerging from a tunnel. The calming music of rain, choir, and the clown's mournful trumpet was all but drowned out by something like a drunken marching band.
The hill kept climbing, and although the lady seemed to glide raher than walk, she did complain about the comfort of the situation.
“I don't know why they hold the party all the way out here. If I had known I had to walk all this way across a field”. She had a way of saying 'field' which sounded better suited to a word like 'filth' or 'rotting meat'. “I would have had my carriage drive me all the way”.
“You came in a carriage?”
“Of course I did, dearest. However did you get here?”
“I walked” Hannah said. “I live right over there”. She turned her head to look back at it.
“I suppose it has its charms” the lady said. “To salt of the earth types like you, dearest”
Hannah did not really listen. Behind them there was only darkness. She couldn't see the road, her house or even the trees. All seemed to have been eaten by roiling shadows. For the second time she briefly considered if this had been a mistake.”Daylight will have to come back if nothing else” she thought. “I'll go home by then, at least”.
The music had grown louder still, and now the musicians themselves came into view. Hannah wasn't sure if they had come over the hill or simply come into focus, like a slide under a microscope. They were monkeys with brass faces. Their wild unblinking eyes were painted white and yellow, and their wide mouths were. Daubed with crimson. The paint job was shoddy, almost as if the monkeys had not wanted to stand still for the time it took the painter to do his job.
Their instruments were wonderous.One had hands that throbbed with veins and with flaps of skin between the fingers. When he banged them together it sounded like a cymbal. One had no lips, but a fleshy horn seemed to have forced its way from behind his brass face. When he laughed it sounded like a muted trumpet in a wild neighing solo. Further back Hannah thought she saw one with bellows for a torso and a reed in his mouth like a lolling tongue.
The lady giggled. “Isn't it marvellous? Every year they think of something new.”
The monkeys passed by them, leering and hollering. For a moment a snippet of melody was born out of the cacophony. To Hannah it sounded like “Papa Won't You Let Me Go To Town With You”, her grandmother's favorite song. It disappeared as quickly as it had come in another squeal of noise.
After a seemingly endless uphill trudge, they finally reached the top of the hill. Here stood an archway garlanded with gilded oak leaves and colorful rags. On either side of the arch a single wire stretched into the darkness. It emitted a pleasant drone that sometimes sounded like a metal choir. On the other side was warmth, music and figures in colorful gowns and suits.
In the doorway stood a man. When Hannah saw him everything felt a little less like a fever dream. He had thining grey hair and a three-piece suit decorated with silk hearts. He was slightly stooped and rested one hand on either side of the archway. His eyes were kind, Hannah thought. Kind and sad, like he had seen life pass by.
“Do you wish to enter at this time, freely and of your own will?” he asked in a voice hoarse from talking.
“Of course,” The Lady pushed past him and he did nothing to stop her.
“And you, Hannah?” he asked.
“Do you know my name?” As soon as the words were spoken Hannah realized that the question was a dumb one.
“I should know the name of every guest” He smiled, and Hannah flt a calm that she had forgotten existed. “And even if I should forget one or two it would never be yours, Hannah”.
“How do you know?”
“I will tell you, but right now I can't let anything come between me and my duty as a gatekeeper”.
Hannah thought about this. “Will you let me out once I'm in?” She felt a bit ashamed for asking, but knew that this was not a dumb question.
“You can leave at any time”.
“I'm not sure I can find my way home anyway”.
“It is closer than you think”.
“Then I would like to come in”.
He moved aside to let her pass through. Once inside she realized how cold and wet the night had been. Here was warmth and people. Here was a tall glass of something sparkling and golden which someone pushed into her hand. The gatekeeper had followed behind her, and stood drinking deeply from a glass of his own.
“How about your duty as gatekeeper?” Hannah asked.
“I am happy to say that it is behind me for tonight. Every guest is here”. This entry was originally posted at http://hafwit.dreamwidth.org/18058.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
The sounds of a party met them as they made their way across the field. It hit Hannah suddenly, like the sound of a train emerging from a tunnel. The calming music of rain, choir, and the clown's mournful trumpet was all but drowned out by something like a drunken marching band.
The hill kept climbing, and although the lady seemed to glide raher than walk, she did complain about the comfort of the situation.
“I don't know why they hold the party all the way out here. If I had known I had to walk all this way across a field”. She had a way of saying 'field' which sounded better suited to a word like 'filth' or 'rotting meat'. “I would have had my carriage drive me all the way”.
“You came in a carriage?”
“Of course I did, dearest. However did you get here?”
“I walked” Hannah said. “I live right over there”. She turned her head to look back at it.
“I suppose it has its charms” the lady said. “To salt of the earth types like you, dearest”
Hannah did not really listen. Behind them there was only darkness. She couldn't see the road, her house or even the trees. All seemed to have been eaten by roiling shadows. For the second time she briefly considered if this had been a mistake.”Daylight will have to come back if nothing else” she thought. “I'll go home by then, at least”.
The music had grown louder still, and now the musicians themselves came into view. Hannah wasn't sure if they had come over the hill or simply come into focus, like a slide under a microscope. They were monkeys with brass faces. Their wild unblinking eyes were painted white and yellow, and their wide mouths were. Daubed with crimson. The paint job was shoddy, almost as if the monkeys had not wanted to stand still for the time it took the painter to do his job.
Their instruments were wonderous.One had hands that throbbed with veins and with flaps of skin between the fingers. When he banged them together it sounded like a cymbal. One had no lips, but a fleshy horn seemed to have forced its way from behind his brass face. When he laughed it sounded like a muted trumpet in a wild neighing solo. Further back Hannah thought she saw one with bellows for a torso and a reed in his mouth like a lolling tongue.
The lady giggled. “Isn't it marvellous? Every year they think of something new.”
The monkeys passed by them, leering and hollering. For a moment a snippet of melody was born out of the cacophony. To Hannah it sounded like “Papa Won't You Let Me Go To Town With You”, her grandmother's favorite song. It disappeared as quickly as it had come in another squeal of noise.
After a seemingly endless uphill trudge, they finally reached the top of the hill. Here stood an archway garlanded with gilded oak leaves and colorful rags. On either side of the arch a single wire stretched into the darkness. It emitted a pleasant drone that sometimes sounded like a metal choir. On the other side was warmth, music and figures in colorful gowns and suits.
In the doorway stood a man. When Hannah saw him everything felt a little less like a fever dream. He had thining grey hair and a three-piece suit decorated with silk hearts. He was slightly stooped and rested one hand on either side of the archway. His eyes were kind, Hannah thought. Kind and sad, like he had seen life pass by.
“Do you wish to enter at this time, freely and of your own will?” he asked in a voice hoarse from talking.
“Of course,” The Lady pushed past him and he did nothing to stop her.
“And you, Hannah?” he asked.
“Do you know my name?” As soon as the words were spoken Hannah realized that the question was a dumb one.
“I should know the name of every guest” He smiled, and Hannah flt a calm that she had forgotten existed. “And even if I should forget one or two it would never be yours, Hannah”.
“How do you know?”
“I will tell you, but right now I can't let anything come between me and my duty as a gatekeeper”.
Hannah thought about this. “Will you let me out once I'm in?” She felt a bit ashamed for asking, but knew that this was not a dumb question.
“You can leave at any time”.
“I'm not sure I can find my way home anyway”.
“It is closer than you think”.
“Then I would like to come in”.
He moved aside to let her pass through. Once inside she realized how cold and wet the night had been. Here was warmth and people. Here was a tall glass of something sparkling and golden which someone pushed into her hand. The gatekeeper had followed behind her, and stood drinking deeply from a glass of his own.
“How about your duty as gatekeeper?” Hannah asked.
“I am happy to say that it is behind me for tonight. Every guest is here”. This entry was originally posted at http://hafwit.dreamwidth.org/18058.html. Please comment there using OpenID.