Chapter 2
2. Dreamscape
“Hello, Dr Jackson’s office,” the surgery secretary asked in a very polite voice picking up the telephone and answering it.
“Yes, hello, may I speak to Dr Jackson, please?” Ralph replied.
“I’m putting you through now.”
Waiting patiently for the call to be put through, Ralph sat at his cluttered desk looking out of the office window into the busy city streets outside. Being on the first floor it was easy for him from time to time, to observe the hustle and bustle of it all going on first hand. From here he could see the passing shoppers, the everyday workers, the unemployed and the children – lots of children too young to go to school, too young to understand the stresses and strains of mature life. Ralph called them the lucky ones.
Many hours had been spent observing how the other half lived. It wasn’t a case of being nosey or intrusive, but a way of realising how lucky he was to have a good job, a nice home, a car and, the premium selection of good, loyal friends that he could call up and arrange an evening out or private function with.
“Mr Caine sorry to have kept you waiting, how can I help you?” Dr Jackson’s voice suddenly came to life on the phone.
Taken by complete surprise at the sudden voice breaking the silence, Caine lost grip of the cordless telephone, allowing it to fall heavy onto the paper filled desk. Panicking, he quickly picked it back up.
“Are you alright, Mr Caine?” The Doctor called down the phone.
“Yes…Yes, sorry, I just…The phone fell,” Caine stuttered anxiously.
“OK, relax. Take a deep breath and count to ten. In your own time now, tell me what the problem is?”
Doing as Doctor Jackson advised, he calmed down as quickly as he could, then informed the Doctor of his dilemma. First telling him of his week of disturbing dreams and nightmares that had taken a toll on his work, then, going onto the vivid experience he had had that morning, as well as the strain which it was all having on his marriage. Sparing the details which he had told his wife, Caine asked the Doctor what he thought about the strange predicament.
“I think that you had better call in and see me as soon as possible, Mr Caine. Not that I want to worry you, just as a matter of precaution, you do understand don’t you?” The Doctor replied.
“Would now be soon enough, Doctor?” Ralph spoke expectantly.
“Now would be as good as a time than any, Mr Caine, and just bring yourself, OK?”
Putting the receiver back onto its cradle, Ralph went over to the window and stared out into the almost empty street below. Across the way between two buildings he caught sight of a middle-aged looking man his clothes were dirty, torn and shabby. The appearance of this man was that of a wanderer, a loner, a street dweller, or that of a disappearing society which has slowly left the public’s eye and making a new home out of the way of those that beg in High Streets. The food stores, newsagents and public houses all becoming places for the homeless to lay in their doorway’s overnight, until the normal opening hours leave them to walk the back streets until night fall, when they would do the same thing day after day, night after night. But down there, other’s roamed with the packs of street-dwellers, even though these people were much different to the soft spoken, rough shaven, tatty-dressed tramps who begged for spare change. The new breeds were known to be that of Scammer’s, who used the excuse of being homeless for to make money out of scamming the public. It was truly “A Good One”. As a city lawyer, Ralph Freeman-Caine knew all there was to know about rules, regulations and laws of the land. And why shouldn’t he, he helped write them!
On a closer observation of the man, Ralph became aware that he was neither a street-dweller, nor one of the Scammer’s, but that of an ordinary person who had become a victim of a merciless crime. His body movement on the ground and the attempt to steady him-self against the close narrow walls of both the buildings, were not that of a down and out’s daily behaviour of being drunk, falling into a deepened sleep resembling comatose, then sobering up with progressive shaking of each tender muscle and bone in the body.
Rushing to his desk and picking up the cordless phone again Ralph dialled the three nines and informed them of what he had seen, before leaving the office to see that the man wasn’t badly injured. And being as honest as he could, Ralph didn’t know what to expect when he came face to face with the stranger.
“Are you OK?” Ralph called out.
“Are you…!”
Seeing the man turn around to face him, Ralph’s whole body froze solid where he stood. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with fear.
“St…St…Stone!” Ralph finally gasped.
“Ahh, hello Caine, did you miss me?” Stone asked with a smile.
Within the blink of an eye lid, a roll of a heartbeat, a single flick of a light switch, Caine was back inside an unfamiliar place of dream and nightmare. The blackness of sleep was over in a flash. At his moment of returned sight, Caine saw that Stone was stood very close to him with that wide annoying smile he always showed plastered across his face. It was very dark.
“Are you awake, Caine? Are you within the embrace of reality? Or are you on the mere plateau of wake and dream?” Stone asked clapping his hands together loudly.
Suddenly from all around them the darkness was pierced with brightening light. Looking down to the ground Caine noticed that the dark soiled earth on which he stood was unlike earth’s type, it was more powdery, chalky, brittle and warm. On further inspection of the now visible area, he gave a low gasp of shock horror as his mortal memory re-entered the fleeting stored pictures of a mythical place that, existing only in old history books would mean that Caine was definitely inside some nightmare hell. Not that of reality which Stone kept teasing him about.
“Don’t look so relieved Caine! Whatever your mind is telling you, well, believe me it’s all wrong”
“This is not real!” Caine shouted out suddenly, “All of this is just in my head.”
Stone became angry. “No. This place is real. This place is the very heart of the surviving soul, where mortal men, woman and children that betray the god’s reside in death. You are here because of the betrayal you carried out on the brothers and sisters of your society.”
“Bull shit! This place does not exist, Stone,” Caine shouted in defiance.
Stone laughed with uncontrollable and sarcastic laughter. “It is as real as you and me.”
By now, the piercing light from earlier had lit up everywhere as far as the eye could see; vast hills and mountains reached out to a scarlet sky, while looking to his left, Caine saw what looked like a steep slope that had a sheer drop of immeasurable height. Behind him, hundreds, maybe thousands of sharp pointed rock spikes. Everywhere that was visible, or that could be made out at least, became covered with strange, unexplainable smog. It was now that the air was suddenly filled with the smell of sulphur which brought Caine to rethink his thoughts about the place being real or not. And it was now that he realised that of this place he knew.
“Do you like your new home? Why don’t I turn up the heating for you?” Stone jibed.
“If this is where I think it is, where’s the big man?”
Stone’s expression remained plain for a second. “The big man, Caine”
“Yes, the big man! You know, he who hath understanding and all that bollocks!” Caine shrieked.
“Ah, you mean the Prince of darkness?” Stone replied, finding a raised flat boulder nearby and sitting on it.
“That’s the man. Where is he?”
Taking a loose cigarette from his jacket pocket Stone placed it between his lips before using his right hand index finger to light the end. Sucking on the filter it began to burn with a bright orange glow and it was clear to Caine now that Stone was definitely not that of a human.
“Well, Stone, where is he?” Caine asked again, walking over and sitting by his side on the rock.
“To be honest, Ralph, I have no time to talk about mythology with you right now.” Stone snapped.
Pointing a finger at him Caine was suddenly over-come with the tired feeling which he had felt when in Seacliffe, only this time it was more intense than the last, more painful, and more powerful.
“Give my regards to Dr Jackson, Caine.”
Within a single second, Caine found him-self lying on the ground in the alley where he had witnessed the wandering man earlier, who turned out to be that of Stone. Upon opening his eyes he saw above him two paramedics looking down on him with concerned expressions. There were also two policemen and numerous passers-by, who had stopped (as they do) to nosey in on the incident. Rising to his feet with embarrassment at being found on the floor unconscious, Caine was helped to an awaiting ambulance by the two paramedics.
“Would you mind telling us what happened here, Sir?” One of the police officer’s asked.
“We received a telephone call five minutes ago from a Mr Freeman-Caine, who told us that a man had been attacked here in the alley.” The other officer added.
Caine sat in the back of the ambulance starring out into the alleyway. He said nothing.
“It looks like you had it lucky this time, Sir,” the Chief Paramedic said with a slight smile. “There’s nothing broken, no bruises, no serious damage done, just a couple of tares to your clothes. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure. I do think it’s pretty strange though.”
“Strange!” An officer spoke up.
“Well, seeing the tear’s like that in my line of work, he should be showing signs of contusions, heavy bruising and deep concussion, to say the least.” The paramedic replied.
“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Caine gasped jumping out of the ambulance.
“It’s your call Martin” the paramedic called over to the police officer.
“Let him go, we’ve just had another call anyway. Will you be OK, Sir?”
Nodding his head, Caine walked back to his office building, but stopped outside. Reaching into his inside pocket he pulled out his Ericson mobile phone and typed in the number for Dr Jackson’s office then waited a moment for an answer. Again, his mind wandered, but this time it was to do with his childhood days with his younger brother and Aunt.
It was summer 1972; he and his brother were out in the country fields of Thornville, near their auntie’s house in Seacliffe, Leeds. Out there the fields stretched for miles, or as far as the eye could see to two teenagers who were young and restless. Andy, Ralph’s younger brother had always been the adventurous one, especially when it came to hide-and-seek.
One day, Andy disappeared from his bedroom after being grounded for breaking his auntie’s best crystal bowl which had been a gift from her dying mother. Gathering a group of people from the village, Ralph’s Aunt searched the whole area, except for the one place that he had actually run off to. By three O’clock the following morning Andy was officially reported missing to the police who themselves organised a fifty man team of officers to search the whole area again. They were unsuccessful.
Darkness came and went, the sun rose and fell upon another day, but still he could not be found. Ralph and his Aunt were now hell bent on finding the missing thirteen year old. So much so, that Ralph, too, sneaked from the house and disappeared into the tall, overgrown corn fields. Protecting his eyes from the loose dust-like corn bits that were blowing toward him, he strode on harder, faster, and more determined to access the middle of the huge field. His heart was pounding so hard that he could hear it so loud in his ears and soon Caine finally saw a small break in the cover of corn. “This is it! This is the very centre of the field,” he thought to him-self with a smile of great accomplishment. To reach this point would be his goal. Here he would be reunited with his brother, Andy, of this he was sure.
“Dr Jackson’s office, how may I help you?” The secretary called down the phone suddenly catching Ralph unawares.
“Huh! Oh, I’m sorry, I was miles away,” Ralph apologised. “Could you put me through to Dr Jackson, please, its Ralph Freeman-Caine here, I really do need to talk to him.”
A second or two later Dr Jackson’s voice spoke his greeting.
“Mr Caine, we had an appointment. Did you forget?”
“I don’t know what to do!”
“Well, usually it’s a good idea to put one foot in front of the other,” Dr Jackson joked.
“My nightmares, Doctor Jackson, they are becoming real”
“All the more reason to come in and see me Mr Caine”
“I can’t. Would it be possible for you to come and see me?”
There was a short pause of silence, all for the brief sound of turning paper and the creaking of a chair.
“OK, Mr Caine. If you leave your address with my secretary, I will see you at your home in one hour, is that alright with you?” The Doctor agreed with a sigh.
“That would be very much appreciated. Thank you.”
Informing the secretary of his home address, Ralph hailed a taxi and was taken home. Arriving home so early, Sarah was surprised to see him walk through the door.
“Ralph! What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She asked.
Silently, he made his way into the large living room and fell back onto the sofa before loosening his tie and kicking off his scuffed, leather black shoes. Looking round the tidy, well-furnished room he watched as Sarah walked around the back of him and sat on the easy chair in front of him with an expectant expression on her face.
“What’s happened, love?” She asked looking at his torn clothes with tear-filled eyes.
“Oh nothing much, it’s nothing to worry about, love!” He answered in a calm steady tone of voice.
Not forcing the issue, Sarah went into the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea and a small snack of sandwiches that were piled up on a large oval shaped plate. On her return from the kitchen the front door bell rang out in the hallway lobby. It was Dr Jackson.
“Hello, Mrs Caine, is Ralph in?” Dr Jackson greeted Sarah with a polite smile.
Showing the doctor into the lobby and taking his coat, she led him into the living room to her husband. Ralph rose from his seat, putting out a steady hand the doctor shook it and put his brief case down on the low wooden table in front of Ralph. Inviting the doctor to sit down on the nearby chair Ralph asked if he would like a cup of tea. The doctor accepted and Sarah disappeared into the kitchen.
“Is this the height of fashion today, Ralph?” Dr Jackson asked observing the rips and tears on the clothes.
Ralph gave a strained short laugh. “Just a little misunderstood accident.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Do I want to tell you about it?” Ralph snapped, “I want you to help me Doctor, before I well and truly lose my mind. My whole life is being turned upside down, broken, shattered…”
“Alright, alright, I get the idea.” The doctor interrupted quickly.
“I’m sorry. I just feel alone, isolated, insecure and out of control,” Ralph explained.
“Well, I can see by your appearance, the slight paleness of your skin, the sound of your voice and the way in which your temper fluctuates, that you are in need of some kind of help. This doesn’t mean locking you inside one of the island’s institutions, however, or arranging electrotherapy. First of all, I need you to tell me what you believe the problem is, and then I’ll evaluate the whole thing and decide what plan of action to take.”
Looking slightly uneasy with the doctors’ words, Ralph reached forward and took his cup of tea from the coffee table. It was then that Sarah returned with the doctor’s drink. He thanked her with a smile.
After excusing herself from their company Sarah picked up her car keys from the mantelpiece and set off into the city to do some shopping. Doctor Jackson took out his Dictaphone and several mini tapes before setting the machine down on the table and pressing the record button.
“OK, Ralph, when you feel comfortable and ready to talk to me, the tape is running. Just take your time.”
Taking one last sip of his drink Ralph shifted back into the sofa, to make him-self as comfortable as possible. Glancing over to the large framed wedding photograph of both him and Sarah, he looked back at Doctor Jackson.
“Where do I start?” Ralph asked.
“The beginning is always the best place to start, I believe.”
Clearing his throat and rubbing his hands down his tired looking face Ralph finally began to speak, while trying to put the events in order in his mind.
“I guess it all began three weeks ago, when my company started running into minor problems with a foreign firm threatening a buyout or at the very least a takeover. As I’m the Director of the company, my decision was to throw the offer down the throats of these multi-nationals, but, I decided to throw the insults to the wind. Donna, my secretary, she was approached a couple of days after a press release went out about my company, and she informed me of having had a better job offer. Of course, she never did leave my employment, or not while she was alive anyway! She was killed in a tragic car accident on the East Coast.”
Doctor Jackson looked into Ralph’s eyes. “And how did you feel when the news of her death was broken to you?”
“I felt numb at first, until I received a fax from the company that wanted to buy my company out,” he replied.
“This fax message, what did it say?”
“The message was clear and to the point. The President and Company Director demanded that I rethink about the bid. That the motorways and side roads were all dangerous places to be, especially when no other cars are around to witness shameless road rage attacks.”
Noticing Doctor Jackson giving a sudden shuddering jolt Ralph asked the doctor if he was feeling cold, and if he would like the heating turned up. Doctor Jackson waved his hand up in the air in objection.
“No, I’m fine. It’s just that…Oh, forget it! Please, carry on.”
Before continuing with his story, Ralph couldn’t help but notice that Doctor Jackson was starting to shudder at the same thought’s that had begun his decline of health. He made mental notes of these.
“I took the fax message to the police but they couldn’t act on just the remarks I’d received, so they advised me to go home and get some sleep. Then, two days after the message, one of my clients rang to tell me that he had been approached by a large overseas company. They told him that if he stayed with my company, he would face fifteen years in a full security prison, with no appeal, no remission, and no eleventh hour reprieve. They were going through each and every one of my clients with a fine tooth comb to make them leave the service of my own business.”
Stopping Ralph for a moment, Doctor Jackson turned over the mini tape in the Dictaphone.
“This overseas company that wanted to…”
“Oh no, the company haven’t withdrawn their takeover bid! They’re out there now, buying up all the local councillors and politicians. Most of them have emailed, phoned, faxed and even written to me in the hope that I don’t take any of this personally,” Ralph interrupted, becoming emotional.
“It’s Ok, let it all out,” Doctor Jackson spoke up in a low voice, handing Ralph his pure cotton handkerchief.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to deal with all this by myself. I really thought it would all sort itself out if I turned down their offer, but it just got worse”
“So all of this stress and anxiety has caused you sleepless nights and I might hasten a guess that there are marital problems, too?”
Leaning forward of his seat Ralph gave out a bellowing burst of nervous laughter. Standing up and walking to the custom made drinks cabinet, he poured him-self a drink of Jack Daniels whisky, holding up the glass to offer the doctor one, too. Doctor Jackson declined with a vigorous wave of his hand and pointed at the Dictaphone on the table.
“When I was twelve years old, Dr Jackson,” Ralph continued, “I lost my older brother to god, he was only thirteen. After he died, my Auntie took me to a psychiatrist in the city, who then carried out over one hundred and twenty different tests on my deteriated emotional state. When I was eighteen, all of the tests stopped. Why? Well, my Auntie believed that it was that of the child psychologist who had cured my so-called mental break-down, that of course, I came to the conclusion that I was now too old to allow such a person as the shrink to milk the state taxpayers of money anymore. Then there was my Auntie, of course, who was told that a final payment of two thousand pounds would complete the therapy. Obviously, we couldn’t afford it, my parents, who by the way worked away, told my Auntie they wouldn’t pay a penny towards anything that meant I would have to stay in hospital. With me assuming that it was a big con, you can imagine what I had to say about the whole thing?”
Doctor Jackson suddenly became annoyed. “Six years is a long time to suffer a teenage aggressive mental state, Ralph. Are you sure you began all this at the age of eleven and finished at eighteen?”
“It was a difficult time for me, Doctor Jackson!” Ralph pointed out.
Finishing the whisky he continued his story, rolling the glass around between both palms.
“I suffered a traumatic experience when I lost my brother. So much so, that I developed the sleepless condition commonly known as Insomnia on the very day that my brother was found. I was given every type of sleeping pill on the market, new ones, test ones, but still they had no effect on my body’s calming system. Dozens of specialist’s from all over the UK, including psychiatrists, councillors, healers, even the dreaded Social Workers. Everybody that was anybody in the medical science area checked me out and all of them came up with the same diagnosis of “No Cure” for my sleeplessness. I even appeared on the front cover of Time Magazine at eighteen, with the heading “The Real Insomniac”, it sold over a million copies in the UK alone”
“That’s a big achievement for such a young English teenager, did you or the doctor’s eventually find a cure?”
Pouring him another drink, Ralph returned to the sofa and sat down.
“When I was nineteen, my Auntie introduced me to an old friend’s daughter named Zoë, who became my best friend and very first love. One day she and I walked onto Bramhill, which was the next village up from my Aunties. We walked and we talked and we laughed, it was a fantastic hot summer’s day. Stopping by a field near the border of the two villages, we made love, drank root beer and fell asleep under the blazing sun. I don’t recall Zoë or myself waking up, but something happened! I slept for one year and one day. No drugs, no psychiatry or counselling, just a strange warm feeling so welcoming that I embraced it with everything I had to offer”
“Possibly including your soul, too,” Dr Jackson joked.
“Maybe,” Ralph answered without returning as much as a glance.
“So, you became normal? You were able to sleep again, like everyone else? That must have been some relief for you.”
Ralph crossed his legs and nodded slowly. “Well, that all depends on what you call normal, Doctor Jackson?”
Noticing the red light indicator was flashing on the Dictaphone, Doctor Jackson reached out and took hold of the machine and replaced the tape with a new one. It was now that Ralph used the opportunity to visit the toilet and relieve him-self before returning to his seat more refreshed. Sitting back on the chair Doctor Jackson pressed the record button once more, setting the tape running, again.
“So, coming up to date and to the recent problems, what became of the company you talked about?”
“They continued to send messages to my office staff, to me and more of my clients. After two weeks, it began to affect everything, especially my wife, Sarah, who kept suggesting that we move away. Eventually, she became like me, edgy, irritable, angry, tired and afraid. She became especially afraid. If I could have made all the problems stop, if only for Sarah, I’d have sold my company in a second”
“To those sending the messages?” Doctor Jackson gasped with surprise.
“Hell no, I’d have found another law firm in the county. One that is more reputable and understanding of the clients’ needs. A sell out is still an open option to me, something that is very close I feel by the way. With all the stress and strain that all this has put on my relationship, my sex life and sleeping pattern, I would be lucky to be in control of the company by the end of this week. But what really worries me though, are these dreams and nightmares I’m having. They just don’t seem natural to me!”
“When you rang me, Mr Caine, you said that your nightmares were becoming real!”
“You say that as though it’s impossible, Doctor!” Ralph snapped.
“Well, to be totally honest with you, Mr Caine, dreams are receivable, not transmittable. Dreams and nightmares are caused by the lack of mind control, something that fluctuates with every individual person’s mental behaviour. How it works is like this, one person may have a relaxed daily life; a zero stress less working environment, good healthy diet, quiet home life, you know things like that. When they sleep at night they will, in all balance of theory, have a relaxed and soothing dream experience,” Doctor Jackson explained.
“And you really expect me to believe all that bollocks, do you?” Ralph gave an annoyed titter.
“I’m not trying to pass you off with a whole load of codswallop, Ralph. What I’m trying to do is help you see that these problems can be dealt with. Besides, I don’t believe everything that I read or hear, because at the end of the day, I’m just like you.” Doctor Jackson spoke sympathetically.
Standing up and walking over to the drinks cabinet yet again, Ralph fell into deep thought.
“I know I sound optimistic, but believe me, there is no evidence at the moment that dream states can enter any kind of linear time, nor a reality that is caporial. OK, so a lot of people look too far into most aspects of the human mind, you know, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and all that!”
Pouring him-self another Jack Daniels, Ralf walked up to the coffee table and glared down at Doctor Jackson.
“A Nightmare On Elm Street! You mean all that about a man who has knives as fingers? Like the sandman?”
Doctor Jackson laughed. “Yes what a joke, eh!”
“What if I could prove it to you? What if I showed you a way, or rather, told you of a way into the dream world?” Ralph spoke up, “If you could enter somewhere familiar, but somewhere that is no longer the same place as you last remembered it, would you believe me then?”
Doctor Jackson rose to his feet waving his hands in the air and looking very concerned! Worried! Scared!
“Th…There’s n…no way of…,” Doctor Jackson stuttered with terror showing clearly in his eyes.
Ralph suddenly remembered Stones’ last statement before leaving the brimstone and sulphur world that he’d somehow been transported to. The message: “Give my regards to Dr Jackson,” echoed clearly in his head.
“Oh shit!” Ralph gasped out drinking down his whisky in one.
“Look, maybe I should go now? There are a hundred and one other…”
“Stay where you are, Doctor! You aren’t going any…”
“Ralph! What are you doing?” Sarah demanded entering the living room doorway, seeing that her husband was drunk.
“Stay where you are, Sarah, honey. The nightmares were real!” Ralph exclaimed with a wide smile.
Doctor Jackson laughed out nervously. “Clearly you’re drunk, Ralph.”
“Please, Ralph, let the doctor go, don’t be so bloody stupid!” Sarah shouted, walking over to her husband.
Holding out a hand for her stop, Sarah carried on walking regardless, right up to her worried looking husband. Doctor Jackson sat back down, sweat forming on his forehead and brow. He was clearly terrified.
“Would you like a drink of whisky, honey?” Ralph asked as though everything was completely normal.
“Dr Jackson’s right, you are drunk. Why don’t you…”
Ralph threw down his empty glass to the floor in a burst of sudden anger smashing it into pieces on the carpet, startling both Sarah and the doctor.
“Why don’t you do this? Why don’t you do that? Jesus Christ! I’ll calm down when all of this is sorted out, when the doctor here agrees to go with me.”
“Go where?” Sarah cried out.
The doctor stood up and attempted to leave.
“If you take another step, Doc, I swear I will fucking kill you!”
Sarah advised Doctor Jackson to sit back down and not to upset her husband any more than he already was.
“OK, Doctor, no more bullshit! No more lies, no more hiding behind your own nightmare hang up’s. Let’s get down to it. Why not say those words, Jackson? Say the words that we both know.”
“You are really sick, Ralph, really…”
“Say them! Say them now, or so help me god…” Ralph was now becoming furiously angry.
“Ralph, please!” Sarah pleaded breaking down in tears.
“Is this what you want?” Doctor Jackson hissed pointing at his wife, “Your wife in tears and begging on her hands and knees for you to get the proper help and care you need?”
Stopping him-self from becoming distracted, Ralph looked down at his sobbing wife on the sofa. On seeing her face buried in those small young trembling hands he was suddenly over-come by the memory of his Auntie’s reaction, when back in 1972, she was informed of young Andrews’ death…
Ralph had run through the corn fields hundreds of times over the many years of spending time at his Aunties house. Both he and Andrew had built ground dens with long, winding tunnels which stretched the entire length of each field. On a good day nobody would be able to find them.
On the day that Andrew was discovered missing by his Auntie, only one person besides the missing boy him-self, knew his location. Of course, the sunny afternoon when Andrew sneaked from the small two bedroom house in Thornville, he made straight for the fields situated behind the back garden fence. With tears in his eyes, sadness on his face and anger in his heart, he ran and ran until he could run no more.
“You have to promise me, Ralph, Auntie Maureen must never know where I am,” Andrew made Ralph swear to hold his secret. Ralph agreed with the crossing of his heart.
“But where will you go? When will you be coming back?” Ralph asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m just going to teach Auntie Maureen a lesson by camping out in the back field, that’s all,” Andrew replied.
“Do you promise you’ll be back?” Ralph asked with a tear in his eye.
Seeing his older brother in a state of emotional confusion he finally gave his word that he would return by the next afternoon, hoping that his Auntie will be apologising for shouting at him over the breaking of the glass vase. It was then that he packed his rook sack and crept out of the house without being noticed by his Auntie and made his way to the back of the house and over the back fence into the corn field.
Ralph stood at the back bedroom window looking down at his escaping brother, hurtling quickly over the fence and disappearing into the tall over-growth, leaving behind him a long winding trail of trampled corn until that, too, disappeared from view behind the tall, long line of oak trees that stretched the whole length of each garden, both left and right of Auntie Maureen’s house.
Less than twenty-four hours later, when Andrew wasn’t found, Ralph him-self ventured out into the corn field that he’d seen his older brother disappear into. Following the markings of the old trail that maybe his brother had made, he broke into a sprint to reach the end faster. Nearing a clearing he slowed to a stop to catch his breath, and then with a small, shallow feeling of suspicion rising quickly to his mind, Ralph sensed something strange. In the air came a strong odour like that which would be found in an abattoir, slaughter house or the dying grave of a trapped sheep in a Pete bog. Raising his t-shirt over his nose and mouth, Ralph walked on slowly, working up the call to his brother from a whisper to a loud scream. Reaching the opening of the flattened corn, it was here, always here in his dream that he woke up in bed, sweating, screaming and gasping for breath.
Reaching this point, as he had done so many times before, his vision faded away to nothing.
“Ralph! Ralph!” Sarah shouted at the top of her voice.
“Ralph! Are you OK?” Dr Jackson called.
Ralph looked at them both distantly before sitting down on the sofa and rubbing his hands together.
“I’m fine. I just want to be alone right now”
“Speaking as your therapist, I would…”
“You would what?” Ralph snapped, “Recommend treatment? Prescribe pills? Suggest I take a long break or foreign holiday? Just what would you do, Doctor Jackson?”
Looking at Sarah for some sign of support in the argument with her husband’s angry response, he saw her shrug her shoulders with confusion. Doctor Jackson shook his head and sat back down in his seat.
“You’re not alone, Ralph. In my profession as a doctor, many of my patients believe that they have a wide range of conditions that are similar to yours. I’m going to prescribe to you some Prozac…”
“You’re going to prescribe me Prozac! Here I am losing my fucking mind, and you prescribe me mind altering drugs that’ll speed up the process. No! If I wanted to enter another plain, or another world, I’d just call out three little words for a…”
“OK, Ralph, that’s it. Thank you for the drink Mr’s Caine, I’ll see myself out.” Jackson panicked.
“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere. I want you to tell my wife the god-damned truth, or by god I’ll chop you into tiny fucking pieces.” Ralph snarled angrily.
Taking hold of her husband’s shoulders, Sarah pulled him back gently. “Please! Let him go.”
“But he’s…he’s…”
“He’s leaving, love. Come on, sit down, I’ll make us a nice cup of tea,” Sarah said trying to comfort him.
Dr Jackson left the house as quickly as he could, as though the devil him-self was hot on his tail, leaving both Ralph and Sarah alone.
“You think I’m mad, don’t you? You and that mother-fucker, Jackson,” Ralph wept uncontrollably.
“Of course not, don’t be so silly, love! I would never think like that about you, Ralph. I just want to think of some way in which to help you, if not to be able to make your worries go away,” Sarah replied.
Taking his wife by the hands he pulled her toward him with a strong pull, catching her in his masculine, gentle arms while looking deep into her eyes.
“Do you remember when we ran away from our parents, got married, had our very first child and then moved into this house? I was eighteen years old, you were seventeen, and nothing in the world stopped us being together,” Ralph said reminiscing.
“Yes, I do,” Sarah answered with a smile.
“Your parents didn’t want us meeting up because of my family ways. The strangest thing about all that business back then, was how both our parents pulled out all the stops to help me with the treatment, the consultant’s and rest-bite from all those goddamned operations. I was so happy when…”
Caine suddenly felt scared, afraid of the recurring flashbacks that were disturbing him continuously. Sarah, herself, was beginning to lose her faith and confidence in curing her husband.
“Ralph, what is it, what’s wrong?” She gasped pulling away from him.
“Nothing, I…I was just…I was just thinking about Andrew, my brother.”
Sarah gave a short sigh before struggling to her feet. “Andrew! You mean the one…”
“Yes, Andrew.”
Noticing that Ralph wasn’t having good thoughts about his dead brother, with the look of sheer fright on his face and beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and cheeks, Sarah changed the subject quickly by asking him if he could guess who she had bumped into while out shopping.
“Rita” he replied with a quick guess.
“No” she replied with smile.
“Amanda”
“Close”
“Not your mother?” He gasped with hope in his tone.
“You’re absolutely right, it wasn’t my mother,” she chuckled.
The relief ran through his whole body, the colour returning back to his cheeks as a slight smile came to his face.
“Go on then, I give up. Who did you bump into?” Ralph conceded.
Raising a poised finger into the air Sarah disappeared for a moment from the room then re-emerged with a large designer shopping bag that had the word “Sheldon’s” on the front of it. Holding it out in front of Ralph, Sarah tried hard to hold in her excitement.
“I was just about to head back home from the restaurant when Judith Ashton stopped me outside the salon. Carl got a promotion at work, so she thought she’d treat herself to a new hair-do and dinner. She gave me this to give to you from Carl.”
Taking the bag from Sarah, Ralph opened it and looked inside. Suddenly, his face lit up with fear.
“Severed Ties by Jean Coppelheim and it’s the very first edition of the final volume. My god! Where on earth did he get it from?”
Sarah lunged at him with open arms, flinging them around his neck and cuddling him gently.
“Carl told Judith that the strangest thing happened to him during the interviews for promotion. He said that his company was bought out by ten O’clock that very same morning, and at midday, he was promoted to area manager by the new owner. When celebrating at home that night Judith asked Carl how he had managed to get the long step up the ladder, and why the company had to be bought out in the first place? Carl said the previous owner had invested all the money from hard line profits, and pumped it all into Beacon International putting the company into the red.”
Ralph was shocked. He knew all about Beacon International’s master plan, of how they had invested and lost all their own money in vineyards throughout Northern France, and yet, they had not compensated for torrential rain falls, floods, landslides or destruction that befell all of the grape fields. A no win situation for Stellan Electronics, a fatal error by Beacon International.
“What about the promotion? What did Judith say about that?” Ralph enquired.
“That was the strangest thing about it all! Carl said that when he got into work to start his shift, three men he’d never seen before walked onto the shop floor and took him to the new owner’s office. When he got there the old owner explained about the Beacon screw up, then, before he was escorted from the premises he introduced Carl to the new owner. After twenty minutes of detailed questioning and five cups of coffee, he promoted Carl to Vice President, which will take immediate effect after the twelve months of working as area manager. He was also given four personal aides, a private secretary and an eight man team to boost production and out-put,” Sarah explained.
Happy to hear about his friend’s good news and run of luck, Ralph stood to his feet a happier person who wanted to ring Carl and thank and congratulate him.
“Oh, you can’t phone him tonight, love! He’s out with Judith at that new Italian restaurant on Kitson Road, the one that used to be the Showboat.”
For a moment Ralph’s mind wandered. The Showboat used to be his favourite penny arcade in the whole east side, not to mention his second home during the summer holidays from school. It was a booming business interest back then, for the proprietor and machine rental companies. One time, as he recalled, the manager happened to mention that the bank had taken eighteen thousand pounds in cash profit, and wanted to extend the proposed loan by thirty-five per cent. Of course, he declined the offer.
“I can’t believe the Showboat closing down as an amusement arcade”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it before now, the closure was televised on the local news and plastered all over the papers, too.” Sarah exclaimed.
Opening the book that Carl had bought him Ralph read the publishers notes at the bottom.
“Jean Coppelheim born April 1971, died 1986 in his sleep shortly after completing the long awaited Severed Ties, the final chapter in the collection.”
“I didn’t know you collected books, Ralph!”
“I don’t. The Severed Ties collection, however, has been one of my favourite books of all time. And now I have the final chapter.”
Ralph kept the details of his ritual act which he had been duped into performing by the bookshop keeper in the city. Sarah held out her hand with a single finger pointing at the book. “Can I have a look?”
Shrugging his shoulders Ralph closed the book and passed it over to her, then walked away into the kitchen to make a hot drink for them both. Silence had fallen on the living room as Sarah opened the book and started to read it.
After making the drinks Ralph returned with a smile on his face. “Here you go, love.”
Without taking her eyes from the inside page of the book, Sarah thanked him, and then continued in silence to read on.
“It should be a good read that one. Coppelheim’s last piece left everything, the essence, the fear, the very soul of his work until the final chapter. Hopefully, I should find out what happened to Murray and the daughter of Sir Arthur Drew-Stanton,” Ralph said thinking of what the bookshop keeper had told him about the collection.
“If you mean Alice Drew-Stanton, you won’t be waiting for long! She…”
“I don’t think so, my little love bug!” Ralph shrieked, stopping her ruining his expectations of her fate him-self.
Closing the book with a loud dense thud, Sarah laughed out mischievously before reaching forward to put the book down before picking up her hot drink from the coffee table.
“Why do they call it Severed Ties?” She asked, blowing her cool breath into the hot tea.
“Well,” Ralph said, making him-self comfortable on the reclining chair, “if you go back and refer to the first book, Sir Arthur Drew-Stanton and his then young daughter, Alice, become the beneficiaries of a large law firm in America. Alice Drew-Stanton, being the only child becomes hell bent on destroying the fifteen or so smaller law firms in England. The reason she does this is because they have each in turn slandered and almost destroyed her fathers’ name. Through volumes two and three, she meets and falls in love with a middle-class thief by the name of Joshua Critchly, who, in volume four turns out to have sold his soul to the devil, while Alice has become dead set on fulfilling her goal by destroying the final two remaining law firms in a hostile takeover. The last volume left Alice on her own inside her fathers’ house confronting the devil and just about to trade her soul for complete control of the British Law Council and all of its counterpart companies. And all of this just because of the disrespectful law firms who almost destroyed her father’s lively-hood and blackened his name within the world of law.”
Sarah sat listening with great interest at her husband’s summing up of the past four volumes of the story, her imagination envisioning the daughter as a spoilt, blond haired brat, the father as an old, stout looking man with strict traditional values. The middle-classed Joshua Critchly, the thief, she imagined being young, well dressed with a perfect physique.
“I must read them!” She gasped, fanning herself down with her hand.
“Tomorrow you can submerge yourself in them all for as long as you like. I’ll look them out, and then you can endure the agonising wait that I had to in concluding the epic tale.” Ralph grinned finishing his drink and rising to his feet.
“I guess I can wait until tomorrow.” She whispered standing to her feet and walking to the living room door.
Retiring to the bedroom after turning all the downstairs lights off, Ralph and Sarah got into bed, saying their nightly fond wishes they both fell into distant individual soothing dreams.
© Marcus De Storm/MKDS Network.2010
