Hikkaba ~ Part 1

Hikkaba  ~  Part 1

   The Hikkaba tree had been there forever.   Five acres of woodlands had grown up around it, cushioning it from the world outside.
   There was a time when magic was everywhere, in the sea, the air, the land, every stone, and grain of sand.
   Then, about a hundred and ninety-five thousand years ago, a small biped called man started building an empire.  He built farms, storage facilities, and workshops.  As they built the land around them slowly lost its magic, and the building continued unabated.   Hamlets, villages, towns and ultimately cities grew up and with each additional expansion, more of the magic dissipated until it now resided only in that one small area of woodland surrounding Hikkaba.   Men had changed the world forever.

.-…-.

  If he’d been a millionaire, Ferlin Varaski would have been considered eccentric.   But he wasn’t, so his neighbours just referred to him as the nut at 24 Hickory Close.   His garden was an overgrown extension of the five acres of woodland he’d inherited from his father.   It had been in his family forever.   A distant ancestor had settled there when it was miles from the tiny hamlet of Biglington.   Biglington was now a sprawling city, ringed by tall buildings erected in the fifties and sixties.   His grandfather and father had both been pressured to sell the land to development companies, but they steadfastly resisted the lure of instant wealth.   It was their link to the past, they were its guardians, they would maintain it and pass it on just as they found it.   Unable to acquire the land, developers just built around it.   At some stage, a council official assumed it was a public amenity and erected gates at the end of Hickory close, between No.23 and 24.   From its entrance, Hickory Park looked to be a model well-managed wildlife sanctuary.   A little overgrown but, giving the impression of being in regular use.   Except for one thing, nobody ever entered it. Many times, people reached the entrance and remembered a more pressing engagement elsewhere.  Where it abutted with the cityscape, the light was occluded, and the woodlands were dwarfed.  But, in sunlight, the trees reached for the sky without let or hindrance.
Ferlin was not a young man; he had no heir and worried about what would happen to the woodlands when he died.   Because it had been treated as a public amenity the five acres had for years been exempt from local taxation, however, nothing lasts forever.  Ferlin reread the official tax demand he’d received from the city council two days earlier. 
 

.-…-.

Alan Fry took a furtive glance over his shoulder. “Damn!” they’re still following me.   It was Billy and Jack, the Hanson twins, and their cousin Roland, not his favourite people.   Alan was in foster care.   To the Hanson’s that was like having a disease, like measles or mumps; ‘fostered’ ugh!   They decided it gave them the right to bully him at every opportunity.   It didn’t help his situation when he scored higher than the Hanson's in the 11+ exam.   Today, he’d committed the ultimate sin; he’d taken Jack’s place on the Daventry Junior School football team.   Since then, they had hassled him at every opportunity making his life a misery.
He turned the corner and ran.   He looked back at the street sign—Hickory Close— “Close,” damn, no way out and nowhere to hide.   Then he saw the gates, at the bottom of the close, his spirits rose.   As he drew nearer he became less sure of his actions, then Roland rounded the corner and Alan's doubts were dispelled.   He dashed into the park and down the path.   It stopped abruptly thirty yards inside the entrance.   He hid behind a tree so he had a good view of Billy, Jack and Roland as they approached the gates and peered in.  

.-…-.

Ferlin was taking his daily stroll through the woods.   As guardian, this was one of his more pleasant duties.   As he walked he thought on world events he’d seen on the news.   He liked to think out here.   But, that tax demand for a thousand pounds a year, backdated ten years drove everything else from his mind.   “Ten thousand pounds, where can I get that sort of money?”
“Uh?”  Said Alan, startled by the voice from the woods.   He would have run, but the Hanson’s were still lingering just beyond the gates.   He stepped through the hedge and found himself gazing into the quizzical green eyes of a slim bespectacled man in his forties.   Ferlin sported a shock of wild frizzy ginger hair and sparse facial chin hair.
“Uh!” gasped Ferlin, roused from his thoughts by the unaccustomed sight of an eleven-year-old boy with dishevelled blonde hair and green eyes that mirrored his own.
“Who are you,” they said as one.
“If your hiding from them, don’t worry, they won't come in,” said Ferlin.  “Nobody ever does, there’s an enchantment on this place that keeps people out.”
“You’re here, and so am I, so maybe your spell has worn off?”
Ferlin considered it, “Mmm, I think not, there has to be a good reason.”   As they watched, the Hanson's moved away.   “My name is Ferlin Varaski,” he offered his hand and a generous smile.
“Alan Fry,” their hands pumped vigorously.
“Hikkaba has been protecting these woods since the dawn of time.   How else could a privately owned five-acre plot of prime land remain undeveloped in a city the size of Biglington?”   
“Then how did we get in?”
“Well, I’m its guardian by birth and at a guess—since I have no heir—you’ve been selected to be my apprentice.”
“At a guess?   Surely a guardian wouldn’t need to guess.   So, what would an apprentice be expected to do, and isn’t it customary to ask a person if they would like to be apprenticed?”
“Woa woh, so many questions.   Before we do or say anything more I think you’d better come and see the Hikkaba tree.”
“You what?   Surely you could think of a better name than that?   Where is it from anyway, outer Mongolia?”
“Alan, just hold the questions and follow me.   Maybe we can provide you with some answers,” he led the way through a tangle of branches that seemed to move out of their way to create a path.
 It was a circuitous route Alan judged, from the positions of the surrounding buildings, would bring them to the centre of the park.  They entered a clearing the air filled with the scent of summer flowers, the drone of bees, the gentle burbling of a stream and the air was alive with birdsong.   Alan pinched himself it was hard to believe it was the 20th of November.
“It’s good to see you again,” said Ferlin.
“Who are you talking to, I can’t hear any voices?” said Alan.
Ferlin took a step closer to a gnarled and rather dumpy little tree with sparse star-shaped silver leaves.   “Alan Fry, this is the Hikkaba tree.”   He leaned forward and plucked one of the star-shaped silver leaves and handed it to Alan.
He tentatively took the offering.  “Hello Alan, I have…”  The greeting ceased abruptly as he threw the leaf away in shocked surprise.
“You can’t converse with Hikkaba if you break contact,” Ferlin retrieved the leaf and offered it to him again.
“How do you converse then, you don't have a leaf.”
Ferlin lifted his thin knurled black cane.   Oh, I have contact!” he smiled, "the handle is of Hikkaba wood."
Alan fingered the small seven-pointed star, it was leathery but pliable, he rubbed the tiny ribs on its reverse, that tickles, said the voice in his head,
“Uh!   Sorry,” he said.  
Ferlin was smiling and he knew it was okay.  Close your eyes.   Alan closed his eyes.  The glade did not disappear, he could still see it in his mind.   It shimmered, as happens on TV, to depict a period of time passing.
The trees were all changed and the buildings were gone, the sounds and smells were different, yet Hikkaba looked the same, unchanged.   This is how it was ten thousand years ago.
The scene shimmered again.   The vegetation was lush and greener, the air was thick and balmy.   As he watched, animals both familiar and strange came and went.   Sounds were eerie and discordant, but Hikkaba seemed no different.  This is how it was a hundred thousand years ago.
As he watched the scene changed a third time.   The greenery was low and fern-like, growing taller and more substantial at a distance of half a mile.   Scaled slow-moving creatures cropped the ferns with beak-like mouths; Alan realized at once, they were Dinosaurs.   The air smelt sulphurous like the chemistry lab at school.   The atmosphere was hot and clammy and shimmering like a steam room.   There were deep sonorous calls and grating sounds like a badly fitting gate.  Occasionally high ululating sounds pierced the mist, echoing long after the sound ceased.   There were sudden wild gusts of wind, bringing unfamiliar aromas.  Decaying vegetation and, other unimaginable, stomach-churning, aroma's assailed his olfactory senses.   There in the midst of it all stood the Hikkaba tree, just as he remembered.   He forced his eyes open and felt nauseous as all his senses became disoriented at the same instant.   He was back in the present.   I am the only one, I am Hikkaba, I have been sentient for more than five hundred million years.   I arrived when Earth was a turbulent and barren place, long before life existed on the land.   I first became aware, when tiny things crawled in the primaeval soup.   I have observed life in all its diversity.   I have become the consciousness and conscience of this world.   I cannot move but through my contact with others, I have witnessed the progression of life on Earth.   I have experienced and can recall several billion years having never moved from this spot.   My knowledge comes from the minds of others.   I see through their eyes, without bias. My leaves have been widely distributed throughout the world, they do not perish and have been passed on.   Since the advent of radio and television, I get even wider exposure to global politics.
“Do you make Ferlin watch TV all day?”
I have no influence over higher forms.   They live their lives and I observe. 
Alan turned to Ferlin.  “What about private things, you know, like girls.  You know, sex and stuff.   Isn’t it awkward?”
“The tree is just an observer, non-judgemental, whatever I get up to is probably boring and old hat to Hik but, I can always break contact if I choose,” he stabbed his cane into the ground and stepped away from it. “But, I have always sensed Hik withdrawing at such times.”
“So, he never intrudes when he’s not wanted?”
“Hikkaba’s sex is not determined, but we can call it ‘he’ if you wish.”  He chuckled inwardly, “there was one time in my reckless youth Heh heh!   I persuaded a girl to hold a leaf, told her it was to concentrate her mind.   We had a three-way love-in.”
“How was it?” Alan asked.
“Quite disappointing actually, her anticipation caused her more excitement than the act.   I tried to find out how to turn her on, and discovered she was more aroused by other women, than by men.”
“Are they all like that?”
Ferlin shrugged, “Who knows, that was the first and last time I tried.   It was so deflating.   She said I shouldn’t feel bad, that was the best she'd ever experienced.”
“And?”
“I asked her about other women.   She slapped my face and looked at me with disgusted.   ‘Do you think I’m a pervert?’  She yelled and stormed out.   It was several years before I saw her again, and she had a female partner with her.   She kissed me and thanked me for opening her eyes.   When she'd thought about it she discovered another person inside waiting to be let out.”
“I see,” said Alan "She was gay?".
“Yup.  But, this isn’t the kind of conversation I should be having with an eleven-year-old…”
“Why not?   Mr Truman my English teacher says we can’t write about life without experiencing it.” 

To be continued/... 

Hikkaba ~ Part 2

Hikkaba  ~  Part 2

 “You want to be a writer?” Ferlin asked.
“No.   But, these are my formative years aren’t they?”
“You're not a simplistic character Alan, your nothing like other boys I’ve met.”
“I’m an orphan.  People who live in institutions tend to grow up fast.   Kids get squished, cry babies get something to cry about if you show weakness you get bullied.”
“That’s sad.”
“That’s life,” said Alan, “Your not much like any adult I’ve ever met, you talk to me as if your interested in what I have to say.  You treat me like a grown-up.”
Ferlin laughed and pointed his thumb towards the forever young tree.   “Next to old Hik over there we’re both a little wet behind the ears.   You’re free to come and go as you please now you've been accepted as part of the family; do you have any plans?”
“That depends on what’s in it for me.”
“Well, every job has its ups and downs.”
“Tell me about it,” said Alan.
“You’ll certainly never be a millionaire but you won’t be short of money…”
“And?”
“How old would you say I am?”
“A reasonable question.”   Alan looked him up and down appraising.  “Mmm forty, forty-five?”
“The magic in these woods has a beneficial effect on health.   If you visit regularly you’ll never develop any serious illnesses.  It also retards the effects of ageing, I’ll be two hundred and twenty-eight next birthday.”   I age roughly one year for every five I live.   I age myself with makeup and every thirty years I fake my death and return as my long lost son.”
“So, when do I get to take over as guardian?”
“Not for a long time, probably never, our first priority is your education, then you can go out into the world and make your mark; with a little help from Hik and me.  With guidance from a few others, you should make the right life choices.”
“No strings?”
“No strings!”
“Mmm, There’s a lot of unanswered questions there…   Do I get to think about it?”
“As far as your concerned, the spell is broken, you can return anytime you choose,” he placed the silver leaf into Alan’s palm.   Keep this with you and Hikkaba will see what you see and be ready to offer guidance if you need it.   If you need to make contact just close your eyes, picture this glade in your mind, and talk.”

.-…-.

As he left, he thought he was going to be in trouble for getting home late, but a glance at his watch told him only minutes had passed while he was in the park, he thought he’d been there for hours.   He shook his watch, yes it was working.   He slowed his pace in case the Hanson’s were still loitering.   Sure enough, he saw them leaving a store in the high street.   He hung back until their paths diverged then made his way home to the Armstrong homestead, 249 Western Avenue.  He cringed at the sight of the familiar front door, window frames, fence, and front gate all painted pink & black.   He smiled at the luminous green curtains and two oversized garden gnomes – Benny and Charlie.   He recalled how the neighbourhood kids used them for target practice when Collin’s two-toned pink, black and chrome MkI Ford Cortina was absent from the drive.   Collin was his foster father, he worked as a forklift driver at the local warehouse of Hanson Transport and Logistics.  He worked swing shifts and did lots of overtime.  His love of pink and black stemmed from his lifelong fealty to the King, Elvis Presley.   Collin and Elise had been childless into their Forties, so when they finally gave up the dream of having children of their own they took up short term fostering.  They were good caring people, they worked hard, played hard, and took fostering seriously.  Alan could not have wished for kinder or more caring parents.

.-…-.

He lay on his bed fully clothed thinking about the strange waking dream he’d had the previous evening.   He could hear ‘Jailhouse Rock’ playing on the Hi-Fi downstairs.   Collin would be getting ready for work.  He sniffed and knew instantly that Elise was dishing up his usual breakfast of sausage, eggs, mushrooms, bacon, tomatoes, black pudding, and fried bread; followed by hot buttered toast and marmalade.   He would wash it down with several king-size mugs of steaming hot sweet tea.  By contrast, Elise’s own calorie intake was minimal.  Two crisp-breads thinly coated with cottage cheese and a slice of lettuce, cucumber, and the ends of Collin’s tomatoes.  She would sip weak black coffee, without sugar.  On odd occasions, she had been known to indulge herself by eating a raw carrot or two.   He smiled fondly at the thought of Collin, six foot two, ten stone two pounds, and Elise five foot six, weighing 15 stone.   She ate like a butterfly and he like a grizzly.  She was a tiger and he a teddy bear.
“Alan?  Breakfast in five minutes,” she called from outside his bedroom door.
“Thanks, mum, I’ll be right down.”
 “Are you decent? Can I come in?”
“Of course,” he replied.  
She entered with her familiar linen basket.  “It’s Tuesday again,” she said.   She always did the washing on Tuesdays.   She proceeded to pick up his cast-offs and deposit them in the basket without complaint.  Something fluttered to the floor; she retrieved the star-shaped silver leaf.
“It’s a memento full of memories, kind of sentimental,” He explained. 
She placed it in his hand, “don’t lose it then.”   A final look around to make sure she’d missed nothing then she left.
He placed the leaf in his top pocket and followed 'the whirlwind' downstairs.  
Collin had already finished.   His utensils were drying on the drainer.   First thing Alan learned about Elise was her philosophy, ‘a place for everything and, everything in its place’, she couldn’t abide clutter.
“Would you get the post for me Alan, there’s a dear.”
He went to the front door, three large, two small brown envelopes, and two white envelopes.   He scooped them up on his way to the kitchen, placing them on the table before sitting down to two boiled eggs and toast soldiers.
“Eat up dear, mmm, seven letters that’s unusual, wonder whose birthday it is?   Bill,” she said, tossing the first to one side, a circular joined it, she smiled, “One from Cousin Louise in Australia.   Alan Fry, this one is for you,” she propped an off white envelope against his glass of milk.   “Another bill,” she announced, and with a furtive glance at Collin, she deposited the final white envelope in her apron pocket, unopened.
Alan opened his surprise letter, noting the expensive embossed letterhead from, Gorton Grange (private residential school).  
Dear Alan,
   You have been awarded a scholarship to Gorton Grange.   With effect from next term, dates and joining instructions attached.  A full list of uniform requirements, books, and essential equipment is also enclosed.   
The list was long and looked expensive.   We could never afford this, he thought.   Maybe I could get a grant, it wouldn’t be fair to expect Collin and Elise to foot the bill, I’m not their flesh and blood, I’ve only been here for a year and a half.   I’ve never felt more at home anywhere but…  His mind wandered to the glade:
Alan, this offer from Gorton was no chance thing, you were proposed by one of our associates, a member of the faculty, it was however awarded on merit.
 “That’s not possible,” he said.
“What isn’t son?” Collin stood in the kitchen door a look of concern on his face.
“I’ve been offered a scholarship,” he handed the letter to Elise.  
She read it aloud for Collin, “You must go, and there’s an end to it,” she said.   “We’ll find the money, somehow, that’s our concern, not yours.   If needs must, we’ll apply for a grant from the council or, take out a loan.”
“Thank you,” he said, moved to tears, “but--”
“No buts, get yourself off to school and leave the finances to me.   I’m the accountant in this family,” she said.

.-…-.

He took care to keep well away from the Hanson’s, which only served to antagonize them all the more.   When he left school that evening they were waiting for him outside the school gates.
“So, you think you're too good for us,”  Jack sneered.   Alan took a step back only to find his arms restrained by Billy and Rolo.   His eyes closed and the glade came into his mind.  In trouble so soon?  You surprise me, said a familiar voice in his head.  Think Bruce Lee.
“No!   We need to improve relationships not wreck them,” said Alan.
Trust me I know about such things.
“No!"  His body coiled like a spring.  He released an explosive kick to Jack's chest, he fell on Billy knocking the wind out of him and kicked Roland’s legs from under him.   He looked down at them with disdain and casually walked away.   As soon as he was out of sight he ran and didn’t stop until he reached the gates of Hickory Park.  He headed straight for the glade; it was warm and balmy.   “I want a word with you!   I thought you couldn’t influence higher organisms.”
I lied.  Nice of you to drop bye…
“I need help earning enough money to get me to Gorton Grange, not lessons in Karate.
The money will not be a problem.
“Elise and Colin are proud, they won't accept charity, they would probably re-mortgage their house to pay for books, clothes and equipment.”
What if a relative were to die and leave her oh!  Say twenty-five thousand pounds?
“You can’t just arrange a death-”
When she held the leaf I was able to read her memories.   She has a recently deceased cousin, the Rev Bertrand Smythe.   A solicitor acting on behalf of the estate will send her a cheque.
She might be suspicious of such a large amount, make that five thousand and she will be happy.”   Rev Smythe, God bless you wherever you are, Alan smiled.

.-…-.

Next morning, on his way to school, Alan ran into the Hanson’s. Don’t run or show weakness Hikkaba’s voice warned.
Roland smiled, “Those were great moves you pulled on us yesterday Fry.”
“Yea, how do you do that twisting sidekick,” said Jackie.
“We didn’t know you do Kung Fu, maybe you would teach us some of those moves,” Billy said.
Alan smiled and blinked, you were right after all Hikkaba, “It’s all in the hip snap Jack.   Maybe we could get together in the gym after school.”
From that day, until they left Daventry school, Alan and the Hanson’s were the best of friends.
One week on, Alan was awakened by hysterical whoops and yells of joy.   He hurried downstairs to witness Elise, dancing up and down with delight.  
“Bless you, Bertrand!   Didn’t I say we’d get the money somehow Alan?  She brandished a cheque for twenty thousand pounds.   A legacy from my distant cousin, I’m sorry that he died but his timing was perfect.   Come on Alan, we're going shopping, go get your list.”

 To be continued/... 

Hikkaba ~ Part 3

Hikkaba  ~  Part 3

I think she would have accepted twenty-five, knowing that Colin is so ill.  Hikkaba shared with Ferlin.

“I don’t understand why you involved Alan at this late stage.”

I didn’t, that was pure chance.

“But, the enchantment, how did he override it and how does that help with your predicament?”  

Just a hundred years ago, the magic encompassed the whole five acres.   Now I have just thirty yards, in any direction, around this glade.   It’s possible there is a degree of intermittence which allowed him to enter.

“It may disappear completely within five years, what will happen to you, to us, then?”

I have existed for so long; it will be interesting to discover what comes next.   Will I disappear in a puff of smoke?   Poof,   The uncertainty is exhilarating.

Ferlin gazed down at the tree.

If you wish to take photographs do so, they will do me no harm.  Very soon I shall experience the third state of consciousness.

Ferlin took out his camera.   “How do you know there are three states of consciousness for you to experience?”

Click!

I know only that ‘Awareness’ was the first state.   I have only vague memories prior to that.

Click!

“And what was the second state?”

Click!

I achieved the second state when I learned to contact and share thoughts with others ‘Communication’, was the second state.

Click!

“We need to know what the third progression could be.   Is there something we humans…”   Ferlin shook his head, dismissing the thought from his mind.

Click!

We will know in due time.

.-…-

Alan was concerned.   For several days Colin’s appetite had been absent.   He had been off work for three days with a virulent bout of flu.   Alan knew it must be serious, all the cheer and bravado had gone from Elise.   She put on a brave face for Alan’s benefit but he knew…   It was Tuesday, and he’d expected her to visit him with her wash basket.   He waited, but she didn't come.

He came down for breakfast.   At first, he thought the kitchen was empty, and then he saw her sitting with her head in her hands.

“Morning mum,” he said.

She sat up and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes, with a handkerchief, and forced a smile.   “I’m sorry, I haven’t prepared breakfast, would you mind making do with cereal today?   I’m not feeling very well.   I think I’ve caught Colin’s man flu.”

“What’s wrong mum?” he went over and gave her a hug.

She started to cry, the tears poured down her cheeks and she started to tremble, uncontrollable heart-wrenching wails filled the room.  

 “Oh Alan, I don’t understand anything anymore, I feel so helpless.   If anything happens to Col I don’t know what I would do.”

Then he saw the opened letter on the table and picked it up.

“He’s got cancer,” she said.

“Oh my god!”

“According to the specialist he has six months, maybe less.”   She began to weep again.

“I’m sorry…   So sorry…” 

   

“It isn’t your fault son, but he’s my life, and he sits moping in bed refusing even to talk about it.   He just plays the same sad tunes, ‘In the Ghetto’, ‘If I Can Dream’, ‘An American Trilogy,’ over and over.”

Hikkaba, what can I do?

Think Elvis!

.-…-.

He ran back upstairs and burst into Elise and Colin’s bedroom.   Turning off the stereo he grabbed the battered acoustic guitar that had once belonged to the King, the pride of Colin’s collection.  

Colin sat up, “What are you doing?”

Alan handed him the guitar.   “Play,” he said. 

“I can’t, I never learned how,” his face teared up.

“A great Elvis fan like you, has never learned to play?”

“Never,” said Colin.   “I’m tone-deaf, I can’t even sing two notes in tune.   I would give anything to be able to sing or play one of the King’s songs, even ‘An American Trilogy.”

Alan handed him the Silver Star. “Use this as a plectrum.   Think Elvis!”

“But,” his face became alert and his fingers formed the chord ‘G’ and he started to play.  His face broke into a smile.   Elise, who was standing by the door, let out a girlish squeal, began tapping a rhythm on the door panel.

Alan began to sing:

“Holly smoke oh lord snakes alive I never thought this could happen to me!" Colin took over...

"I got stung by a sweet honey bee, what a feeling came over me!”   but it wasn’t Colin singing, it was Elvis.

They played and sang, one after another, every hit Elvis ever recorded and Colin played and sang everything note-perfect.

Several hours later they finally collapsed to the floor exhausted. 

“That was the most incredible experience I’ve ever had,” said Colin.   “How?”  He looked down at his sore throbbing fingers and cried again.   “He was the most fortunate man ever to live, to be able to sing and plays like that.”

 “You were the one playing and singing,” said Elise hugging him.

Colin’s face blanked for several seconds, then he stood up, quite his old self.  “Come on you two, were going to meet a friend.”

“Alan looked uncertain, where are you taking us?”

“Your friend Hikkaba has invited us to a party in the park, ‘Hickory Park’, come on,” he said.   “Bring the guitar, Alan.”

They walked straight through the gates, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Colin, Elise, we’ve heard so much about you,” said Ferlin.

“Mr Hikkaba?”  Colin asked.

“No, I’m Ferlin.   I’ll take you to Mr Hikkaba he’s expecting you, follow me.”

Something was wrong.   Alan could feel it as soon as they entered the glade.   The magic extended just fifteen feet around the tree.

“Aah!   No,” Elise cried out and backed out of the glade.

“It’s ok mum,” said Alan.  “I’ve been here before, they can help.”

“You’ve been taking advantage of this poor innocent child?   I’ve heard about people like you,” she said.

Alan went over and plucked one of Hikkaba’s leaves, Elise followed him and he placed it in her hand.

“This is like the one I found in your room,” she said, she went silent, a dreamy look on her face.

“What are you doing to her,” he said, voicing his alarm.

She is reliving a childhood memory.

“I haven’t got a leaf, how are you contacting me?” said Alan.

Once contact is made it becomes permanent after a few hours, give or take some.

“What is happening to the magic?   The area is shrinking, I can see it,” said Alan.

Oh that.   I’m dying so I’ve decided my death would be meaningful if I enable others to live and, nurtured new life.   Come closer.

They all moved closer to the tree, it was visibly wilting.

Give us one of your songs Elvis, ‘Loving You’ is nice.

Colin started to sing, Ferlin Alan & Elise sang backing vocals.   The magic held its ground at ten feet, it even gained a little.   As they sang on one after another, buds started to form on Hikkaba.   They sang on, and the buds grew larger and burst into bloom--Large red and white flowers giving off an incredible perfume.   When the singing stopped the petals dropped off, revealing bulbous fleshy green seed pods.   They started to swell, doubling and trebling in size.   Somebody, outside the circle, started to sing ‘Amazing Grace’.   Other new voices joined in.   Alan looked around and saw two dozen people who had been attracted by Colin’s singing.   They closed in, joining the circle, and Colin began to play and sing again.  

They sat within the balmy circle, while outside it began to snow.

It was getting dark and people were drifting away.   It had been a great evening and people wondered why they had never visited the park before.

There was an explosion, bright coloured sparks flashed overhead, like giant fireworks.  The seed pods were bursting explosively.  They shot skyward and just kept on going up into the night sky and out into space.

“They will seek worlds of their own,” said Ferlin.

Another seed pod exploded and those people remaining moved back to a safe distance.   It was a tremendous impromptu firework display that lasted for half an hour.   Then the snow began to set and the swirls became heavier and they made their way home.   Alan had witnessed the tears in Ferlin’s eyes and felt his sadness.

.-…-.

The oncologists gathered in deliberation.   They talked and talked amongst themselves.   Finally, the consultant in charge approached them.

“Mr Armstrong, I have very good news.   We can find no trace of the tumour, it has either disappeared or, he gazed pointedly at the specialist who had diagnosed Colin’s condition, it never existed.   Since there is absolutely no evidence of scarring I’m inclined to suspect the latter.   You’re completely clear of cancerous tissue and can go home.   Congratulations,” he offered Colin his hand.

.-…-.

Elise was sick on Christmas morning but felt a little better as the day progressed.  

“I’m calling the Doctor,” said Colin.

“But, it’s boxing day," she protested, "at least let the poor man have boxing day at home.” 

Colin saw the sense in it, but the sickness returned the following  day, so he drove her to the local health clinic.

.-...-.

“Your sickness is perfectly natural for a woman in your condition Mrs Armstrong, it will last a few weeks then disappear.   You do know you're pregnant?”

“That’s fabulous news,” said Alan.   “Congratulations Mum and Dad.”

Colin beamed with delight.  "Don’t think we won’t be escorting you to this new school of yours, just because of a little thing like pregnancy." 

"Mmm I’m pregnant, after all these years, I just can’t believe it!”   Colin gave her a hug and dabbed at his eyes. 

"I wonder if Hikkaba had something to do with it?"

.-...-.

Before he left for school, Alan went round to 24 Hickory Close.  Ferlin answered the door. “Alan so you’re off to Gorton Grange, nice of you to call.   I have something to show you before you go.   Alan followed him into the house, and out into the park to a familiar but now unfamiliar spot.   Ferlin pointed to where Hikkaba had stood.   The area was empty.   “Come closer,” said Ferlin.   “Look!"

“Yes I see it, a green tendril shoot sprouting from the stump.”   “It may be a parasite or rebirth,” said Ferlin, "only time will tell."
They returned to No.24 where Ferlin found an official-looking envelope on the front doormat.  He opened it and smiled, "Apparently our rate demand was sent in error, people have been complimenting the council on the Hickory Close wildlife park.  We don't owe them a penny!"  

.-…-

Colin drove Elvis through the gates and drew up beside a Bentley and a Rolls Royce.   He climbed out to get Alan’s cases from the trunk.   Elise gave him a hug and Colin shook his hand slipping him a twenty-pound note.  “Never know when you may need a little cash.   Let us know how you’re getting on, send us an email or ring, and don't forget to have fun.  Life is short."

As Alan walked past the Bentley another boy pulled on a school cap and joined him, “Did you just arrive in that MkI Cortina?

“Yep,” said Alan expecting the worst.

“Cool, I wish I'd arrived in style like that."

“My name is Alan.  My dad is a professional Elvis impersonator,”  he said.

“Cool, my dad’s a merchant banker, are you a first-year like me maybe we could bunk in together."

“Maybe,” he smiled, and they enter Gorton Hall together."   Maybe things will work out just fine, he thought.

/ends

Exercise for the Overweight, Infirm & Aged.

Exercise for the Overweight, Infirm & Aged.

"If only I had paid more attention to my diet and watched my weight in earlier years, but now it's too late..." said an obese lady in her 60's.

But, is it too late? Surely there are exercises we can do that would help? Pilates, yoga, Tai Chi, Dynamic tension?

Pilates:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NI66J8X63TE

Yoga:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phuS5VLQy8c

Tai Chi:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oCnCSOWgIUU&t=342s

Dynamic tension:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkJEWMCw0T8

They are always demonstrated by fit healthy youngsters, but if we select what we can and cannot do comfortably from each regimen we can all improve our lives. That, together with a balanced diet, eating less and daily deep breathing exercises to fully oxygenate our blood would result in rapid improvements physically and mentally. A lot can be accomplished in bed and will help you sleep.

I recall a motivational mantra but not its origin which doesn't affect its relevance:

Never lay when you can sit.
Never sit when you can stand.
Never stand when you can walk.
Never walk when you can run.

No such thing as can't only won't! Any activity is better than none. You don't need to spend on an expensive Gym membership, Walking, swimming, and gardening cost nothing. Initially exercise in moderation, and you'll be surprised how much better you will feel.

Romany Galactica ~ Part 1

Romany Galactica ~ Part 1

“Sonny, wake up we’re approaching Flagstaff!” She listened to his ‘buzz saw’ snoring. “We’re legally bound to observe their bylaws. A one-man cruiser cannot land on autopilot, and the master must present credentials and a retina scan. The penalty for non-compliance could be seizure of the ship.” She gave him thirty seconds then cranked up the volume. “Shift yer frikin arse, fer cry-sake. You have less than seven minutes. Respond to their hail man, why doncha!”

She listened to his asthmatic wheezing. He hawked and spat at a fake 1970’s poster for a Sonny and Cher concert. She waited. “C’mon Sonny, there’s a frothing stim-soba in the icebox. You got five minutes then I’m taking evasive action.”

“Quit naggin woman,” he staggered to the galley, fixed his gaze on the icebox. It opened to a snap of his fingers. He grabbed at salvation and downed it in one.

“Feel better now do we?” Her scorn was evident. 

He threw the bottle into the disposal, leaned over the sink and heaved, “Hersuse, what was I drinking last night?”

“We picked it up in the Scottish system. They call it Scotch whiskey.”

“Those guys should learn how to make decent Bourbon. That Scotch will never catch on.”

“Let’s pretend you never said that...”

“Oh no, what did I do? Don’t tell me…”

“You purchased three thousand cases of Scotch and two of Bourbon. You used up the last of our trading credit bozo.”

“I said don’t… So we sell it on Flagstaff, and head on back to civilisation—“

“Problem!”

“Go on?”

“This is a dry system. No alcohol or drugs planet-side.”

“So, why did you bring us here? Don’t—“

“You stuck a finger on the vidscreen and said take us there.”

“Shit!”

“That’s what I said but you’d already passed out.”

“You should have tried to wake me up.”

“I did. All you said was ‘Quit naggin’. Three minutes to abort.”

“Abort?” He spat several times and wiped his mouth on a napkin which he threw with pinpoint accuracy.

“Shit fer brains! Never heard of the recycling bin? You’re such a slob. Why does everything end up in the disposal unit? It took me three days to repair it last time, you have no respect for this ship.”

He grinned, entered the comms pod, and pressed [missed calls]. 

‘Captain of one-man cruiser Cher, y’all come back now. Confirm your origin and destination.’ 

--He pressed [Next]. 

‘Captain, answer our hail, we’re targetin ye with Nooks. If ye approach by half a mill miles, without identification, yer ship will be gas. Y’all hear me now.’ 

--He pressed [Next].

“You’re final warnin Captain, ye have two minutes…”

--He pressed [End OK], then [Reply]. 

“Captain Bono of the one-man cruiser Cher, out of New Chicago, ye hear me? Why don’t yous answer me damn-it, y’all comeback.”

“Captain, we bin callin fer nigh on an hour, mayhap your comms are fricasseed?”

“I can hear you just fine now you’ve decided to pick-up. We’re bound for Vegas with a cargo of Bourbon and Scotch.”

“Man, yer timin’s impeccable, Vegas’s nearin dry. You know our rules; you gotta turn 50% of yer poke into goods produced here on Flagstaff.”

“Hello, hello? I missed the last part of your message, thought you was telling me how to spend my money? Come back now. Hello, h_l_o…” He stepped out of the comms pod, “I thought you said Flagstaff was dry.”

“I Lied!”

“Why didn’t I get a simple computer installed? Something reliable and efficient, no hassle…”

“Because I wrote your employment contract Captain Bozo.”

“It's Bono! The ship is your responsibility, but the cargo is mine. I’m not landing here with a clean-up cargo without knowing what I’m gonna get for it. What do they produce here, woman?”

“Heavy metals, radioactive's, crystals – diamond, sapphire, ruby – synthetic and natural - platinum, gold, silver, designer drugs…”

“You’re shittin me! Nothing of real value?” he asked.

“They mine deutridium on the outer asteroids; they design ships, and build some of the finest deep space cruisers in this arm of the Galaxy. They also do refits, something we’re in dire need of.”

“Deutridium, isn’t that used in the production of synthetic flesh?”

“Yea, they have a Synth Industry but their laws only allow inhabitants two synth bodies then they are expected to live out their natural span planet-side.”

“So they tend to live a full life before their first regeneration?” He smiled. “Find out what happens to their minds at the exit gate. Are they planted in standard CM's when their final synth pops its cork?”

“I’m on it!”

He sat down and opened a bottle of Scotch.

“I thought you said…”

“Button it! I do the thinking around here.”

“Haha, yea.”

“Have you got me an answer yet?”

“Their minds are recycled, and stored in standard Cryo Memory cubes, like mine.” 

“Ho Flagstaff, master’s credentials and ships manifest piggabak on this trans; will report for ret-scan on arrival, mess-ends 18:24 GST.” He pressed [Send] and took another slug of Scotch.

“Their nukes are standing down.”

“Did I ever tell you a distant ancestor of mine was ringed-up with the girl on that poster? The real Cher?” 

“A hundred times, but never while you were sober.”

“His name was Sonny too. She was a real looker, he was a lucky guy.” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he took another pull from his bottle. 

“Ah, can’t we dock before you get pissed out of your skull, man?”

His answer was to raise the bottle to his lips and slurp.

“Guess I’ll put some fresh stim-soba’s in the icebox.”

.-…-.

He dabbed his eyes with sterilene lint, ret-scan always caused his eyes to water and blurred his vision. He’d been advised to sit and allow them to recover naturally, but he wasn’t big on taking advice. A figure loomed ahead of him and they collided. Has to be a woman, he thought they don’t make ‘Midnight in Paris’ aftershave.

“Watch where you’re going, you drunken lout!”

His heart stopped, he knew that voice. He took a deep breath, “Anju?”

“Bono? The years haven’t been kind to you have they.”

He dabbed his eyes again enough to see the outline of her face, “It is you…”

“Ret-scan? It used to have that effect on me until I became head of security here, now I don’t have to submit to it.”

“Same old Anju, rules are for others eh?”

“Wrroah, and what scam are you planning to unleash on our unsuspecting populace?”

“Should imagine you already have them all tied up.”

“I’m now a responsible citizen, a pillar of the community.”

“Pillow? Ah, still sleeping around.”

“Whatever it is you’re up to, I’ve thought of it first and I’ll catch you at it!” she warned.

He raised his eyes in mock surprise, “who me?”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Bono.”

“So let me see, it's, been five years? You marooned me on an uninhabited asteroid, stole my heart and my ship, now you’re accusing me of running a scam. You really must hate me.”

“Look I, I’m running late for a meeting but I’ll catch up with you, soon ok? We can snipe all you want and draw a line under the past,” she gave him a quick smile then she was gone.

He sat on a massage chair, he felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He thumbed several coins into the slot and sat back to reflect.

to be continued/...

Romany Galactica - Part 2

Romany Galactica - Part 2

“Who was that?” She asked via remote comms link.
He touched the ‘Comms’ button behind his left ear, and thought Anju Drax, 'the one I drink to forget'.
“That bad huh?”
Sympathy, he thought.
“Empathy,” she said.

I’ve ordered a full refit; just tell them what is needed.
“Gee Thanks.  It’s not as if the money will come out of your own pocket, it’s already been set aside for the purpose.  To be honest, I didn’t think you heard what I said about this maintenance.   Anyway, they’ve already started work, we’ll be ready to leave in about three  days.”
Where the welfare of the ship is concerned I won’t cut corners, he thought.   And, it will take up a huge chunk of the 50% they want us to spend on this rock.
“Now that’s the Bonzo we know and love...”
"Bozo... Bono!” he said.
“Huh!”   She laughed, and he felt the tickle behind his ear.  
"One to me I think. Watch out for that dame Sonny, she's toxic.”

.-...-. 

Sonny dined with a consortium of Casino owners.   He wore a self-satisfied smile as he headed back towards the ship, having coaxed more credits from them than he would have hoped for.   His biggest problem, as he saw it, was deciding how he would spend their money and what outward-bound cargo would yield the highest return.   That was when the feeling came over him.  He was being followed.  He paused imperceptibly, to glance at the reflections from convenient surfaces, checking and rechecking.   When he stopped to read a menu outside the celebrated Ramsay hotel, he was certain.   
There was a mirrored sign:  
We create authentic dishes in the tradition of our celebrated twenty-first-century founder, Chef Ramsay.

Today’s Special:
     Cheese Burgers & French,
     Chinese pot noodle,
     Sticky tofu pudding,
     Vintage diet coke.

Would patrons kindly refrain from expressing profanity on these premised, show a little decorum, and respect for a genius.

 He saw the figure watching him from across the street.  Their eyes met.   The figure walked a further twenty yards then turned towards him and beckoned.   He turned and looked directly at her.   She was thirty-something, sporting blond shoulder-length hair and wide green eyes with a ‘come-hither’ gleam.   He was immediately on his guard.   As a drunk, he’d been rolled for change in more cities than he could name.
“If you follow, her partner will sap you from behind,” Cher warned.
He pressed his comms button.   What are you doing?   Get out of my head...

“Gotta protect my interests,” she said, “it’s taken me forever to break you in, don’t want to start over again just yet.”
Is that how you think of me, as a spare part on the ship?
“Well, not a very efficient part but yes.  On reflection, go get yourself killed!   I couldn’t do much worse.”

A hand appeared out of nowhere and yanked him into the alley.  It was the blond and she was alone.
“Hope I didn’t startle you.  You’ve been standing there looking into space for three minutes, drawing attention to yourself.   This ‘privy-bubble’ only has a life of ten minutes, any more and the security police will get a fix on it.   Don’t talk, just listen.”
He touched his ear button but there was nothing; he felt naked without her presence.  “Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Elise, my father is President John Price.    This planet was Terraformed a hundred and ninety-eight years ago.   Dad was elected president for life, but his term ends in about two months when his second synthetic bod is expected to expire.”   Sonny’s face held a blank ‘so what’ expression.  
“Our synths live for fifty years, and we are only allowed two, incarnations.”
“Is that my problem?” he asked.
“Shut up and listen!  It made sense initially, encouraging the return to natural birth after centuries of synthesis.   Most of the colonists became irradiated during their journey, and many were sterile.”
“Now times have changed but the old tradition lingers."
"Why doesn’t Daddy just change the rules, that’s his job isn’t it?   What’s the point in having power if you don’t use it?”
“It’s not that simple, we need a referendum from the whole populace.  We are just shy of the two-thirds majority required to call it but, the opposition is blocking.”
“I appreciate the history lesson but I’m just a stranger passing through, what do you expect me to do about it?   It’s your planet Elise.”
“You’ve ordered fifty-six virgin synth bodies with blank Crystal Memory cubes.”
“Not me,” he answered. 
“On the outer fringes of this system, in the asteroid belt, they will be worth three times what they cost here.   You can add a couple of zero’s to that by returning with a cargo of refined deutridium, you won’t even need to leave this system.”
“I thought synthetic deutridium was cheaper?”
“It is, but something in the sunlight of this system causes it to age prematurely, we are forced to use the natural ore,” she said.

“There has to be a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“My father has a following off-world.   He plans to leave and set up a government in absentia, to effect the necessary legislation.”
“You want me to get him out?   I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Think on it!   Events have a way of changing minds.”
“Are you threatening me?”   There was a fluid squish that squeezed his body, his ears popped and she was gone.

“Sonny, you crazy sonovabitch, I told you not to follow her...”
“S’allright, nothing happened.  He replayed the five minutes of conversation in his mind for her.  I don’t recall ordering a cargo of Synths...
 “Don’t accuse me,” she said, “they arrived shortly after I discovered the ‘Import Tax’ clause in your sales contract with the Casino consortium.”
Tax?
“S.O.B.   You didn’t even read the contracts before you signed them?”
That’s your department.
“Then try not to negotiate in a privy-bubble next time.   If we conserve fuel on the return trip we may just break even,” she said.
Shit!
"Yea, come on home Sonny."

.-...-. 

“We’ll have to cancel the refit to pay for those synth’s.”
“They’re already paid for.”
“By who?”  He asked.
She said nothing, and the silence lingered.
“You know you get nothin fer nothin,”  He said.
“The agreement is we deliver the synths and pocket the profit, no questions asked.”
“Plain sailing?  There has to be an angle in it somewhere.”
“We’ll have a passenger when we leave.”
“And, where will he bunk?   Don’t tell me--”
 “In your cabin Sonny.”
“So, where am I supposed to sleep?”
“Come on man, you can be a real 'seat of the pants navigator' for once and organize two watches or you can sleep in the cockpit.   It’s only a three-day trip fer crysake man, you’re a big boy, you can tough it out.”
“You know John Price is not just any passenger, he’s the president—”
“Wrong Price.   Our passenger will be Elise Price; she already has valid travel documents for the trip.”
“But, we agreed not to get involved in local politics—”
“We, we?”
“When does she plan on returning?”
“That’s not our pr...  Oh, Oh!   You might want to check the vidscreen, Sonny.”
“I’m not gonna like this am I?”
Two security vehicles just hauled up outside.”
“Sh...”
“Open up Bono, we have reason to believe you are harbouring an illegal migrant,” the metallic voice came from a tannoy mounted on an armoured car. Anju Drax stood in the passenger slot.
“Blight of my life!  Let them in,” he said.  

.-...-.

 The airlock opened and in came Anju flanked by three security officers.  She gazed about, tap tap tapping a pair of synth-leather gloves against her left palm.   Short jet black hair framed her face, accentuating her flawless complexion.   Focusing his eyes on full red lips and narrow aquiline nose he thought,  God she’s beautiful.
“Snap out of it Sonny!   Don’t think with your dick, that’s what she’s counting on.”
“We have a warrant to search this vessel and its cargo.”
“Search away,” he said.
“I must caution you not to leave this planet without my authorization.   If you do so, your ship will be destroyed.
 “Be serious Anju, we’re in the middle of a refit or hadn’t you noticed we’re missing our primary drive?” he grinned at her.
“My name is Commander Drax, you can call me Commander,” her voice was cold and impersonal.
“Anju—”  She slapped him across the face with her gloves.  “Throw them down and I’ll slap you back if it’s a duel you want,” he wasn’t smiling now. 

“Out of my way,” she commanded, heading for the comms pod as if he didn’t exist.
“If you find anything I’ll be in my cabin,” he said.
“I want to check the CM cubes you purchased, where are they?”
“Try the cargo hold,” he said opening the cabin door.

“Locker seven,”   an unemotional mechanical voice said.   It was the basic computer voice that came as standard with the ship, Sonny hadn’t heard it in an age; that wasn't a good sign.
Anju nodded towards her assistants, go get them, bring them here and check those synths while your down there.”    She set the life-sign indicator unit down beside the console.
Sonny closed the cabin door, settled on his single bunk and clicked his fingers twice to extinguish the lights.

.-...-.

The door burst open.   He shook his head and clicked his fingers, “Shit.”   The lights came on and he realized he didn’t have, a hangover, “Bloody Anju,” It took seeing her again, in her true light, to purge him of her once and for all.
“Outside!” said the deadpan officer.  "Commander wants to see you.”
“Remember, I’m the captain of this ship, and according to Inter-Galactic law, I’m in charge here.  This is piracy!”
“Out!”   He was dragged from his bunk and pushed roughly towards the door.
“Say please, and show some respect, you toad,” he turned to make eye contact and was slapped across the face.  “You’ll regret this,” he said.
“Outside!”
“You’re not from the 'gentle persuasion school' then?”  The man’s face remained impassive, he didn’t reply.
“This ship is ‘New Chicago’ territory and your intrusion is an act of war.”
“Shut up Bono.   It was you who let us in and as far as I’m concerned you are a smuggler.   I’m impounding this vessel.   When we find your contraband this ship will be dismantled and sold for scrap.   You will become a permanent guest in solitary confinement and I will take pleasure in breaking you very slowly.  You’ll be old and grey when you get out Bono—“
 He clapped his hands, “Big speech, Drax.”
“Commander!”    She corrected him.
“And, it’s Captain Bono to you!” He said.    Let me remind you, there are a few tales I could tell that would shake the foundations of your cosy little world.”
“Blackmail Bono?”
“Gentle reminder Drax,” he whispered.
She laughed.  It took all his willpower not to take her into his arms.   He could do it, but he would be the loser.
“I’m here Sonny, lean on me,” said the voice in his mind.
Support, he thought.
“Amigo’s,” she replied, “This should be good.”
He watched as Anju pressed the spot behind her left ear to answer a personal com-con call.   Her face paled, her lips tightened.  She shook her head in pique, becoming agitated and unable to contain her anger.  She turned away from him and for a while stood motionless.  Her underlings swapped questioning glances. She turned to face them.  
“It appears captain, that your cargo is in order and you will be taking on a diplomatic passenger for your onward journey.”
“Well thank you, Commander.  As soon as you have returned my cargo to the hold you’re free to leave.”
“Listen, you unctuous little shite!   If I hadn’t been warned off, by my superior officer I would kick your useless butt all over this ship.”  She grabbed the life-sign test monitor she’d been using on the CM crystals and turned to leave.  It beeped.   She looked in the direction the scope was pointing—‘Nav-con’.   “What’s this then?”
“That will be my Companion.   She’s here to maintain my sanity on long haul journeys...”
“Ah, she wasn’t very successful was she?”
“At least I was sane, to begin with, Drax.”
She laughed, “Who told you that?”   She removed the CM from its housing.   “Does--She--have a name?”
“She came with the ship, could say she's the spirit of this ship; her name is Cher.”
“Her life is pretty tenuous at this moment Bono,” Anju began to throw the cube into the air and catch it, higher, and higher until it hit the ceiling. 
“Careful!” He said.
 “Ah!   Look what you made me do,” she stepped back, allowing her eyes to follow its flight to the ground.
He dove full length to catch it but he was too late.   It bounced a foot into the air landing at her feet. 
“He tried to attack me, restrain him!” Anju yelled.   He was dragged to his feet, he struggled right up to the moment they put the cuffs on him.  “Take him to a holding cell I’ll follow in a while.   Oh, S o n n y...”   He looked back to see her foot poised above the CM cube.
“No!” he yelled.   His words were drowned by the crunch of the cube under her foot.  
She spread the pieces with the toe of her shoe.  “Oops,” she smiled at him.
“You evil venomous bitch!   She never did any harm to you, she was alive and you’ve murdered her.   I’ll see you pay for that if it’s the last thing I do!”
“Tears, for your widdle plastic toy, Sonny-boy?”  She smiled in triumph.   “Take him away.”

To be continued/...