Mystery

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27 articles in category Mystery / Subscribe

Tthe fading, ember sunset stabbed its yellow streaks through the mashed potato clouds. The sun, melting lightly on the hilltops like a pat of butter, waved its final farewell. I was hungry. So hungry was I that I did what I never do.

I ate at a roadside diner!

Seven days traveling on foot builds quite an appetite within a man. Even a man such as I, high class, rich, handsome, born with a silver spoon, fork, and knife — infant mouth crusted with caviar. However, when the sight of rabbits and squirrels become enough to make your stomach growl, it is time to lower your standards. The diner was a ragged old place, broken with years, and coated with Father Time’s dandruff. It sat like a wooden corpse in a desert graveyard. A yellow light burned within, and again I thought of butter. I had to eat!

I made my way past battered cars and rusty trucks, as the wind attempted a free sandblasting on their painted skin, without asking the owners first. The neon sign, that half-heartedly displayed the diner’s name in the window, sizzled like a steak with a pinkish color of medium-rare.

The sign’s missing letters made me halt abruptly: Sarah   Di e

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Tthere is a land near the top of the world where there is no horizon, no blue to colour the skies, no ground just hills and valleys of silver-white snow. But to this day, during the first week of the arctic spring, before the mountain ice begins its journey to the sea, a small group of seasoned fishermen paddle out in their sealskin umiaks to harpoon a ribbon seal to offer at the mouth of an ancient glacier to Sedna, Spirit of the Sea.

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Iit’s soft, dark water helped to soothe and quiet her mind. It took her away from the noisy, squawkish world of the cat-walk and let her lie untroubled at its side, listening only to the gentle lapping of its waves. She felt at peace. Alone. Unhindered and free. Free to do nothing but watch and listen and dream. London, Paris, New York – names, only names.

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Hhe was surprised how light she was. It was some years since he’d lifted her bodily, yet she seemed no heavier than when he first carried her over the threshold nine years ago. Her figure had altered very little in that time. Carefully he placed the body on the bed, almost as if he half-expected some sign of movement. But none came. Hurriedly he left the room. He was well behind schedule.

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Tthe PROLOGUE.
Between the trees in the little lane, the icy November wind was gathering the powdery snow and swirling it around like a collection of giant spinning-tops. Winter was quickly taking control of the picturesque German countryside as the thick mantel of virgin snow silently flowed. It moved, slowly but surely, down from the mountains to smother the green foothills and valleys.

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Hhe’s looking at me! He thinks I don’t know it, but I do!

‘I can see you, Charlie, I can see you!’

Those stupid, painted doll-like eyes staring out of that wooden head. Sneering at me. There was a time when I could ignore him. Drop him in his box at the end of the act and forget about him until the next performance. That was long ago when I first got started as a ventriloquist. Then it was ‘The amazing Eduardo’. That’s how the billing read. No mention of ‘Charlie’ … just me, Eduardo. But slowly he got in on the act.

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Tthey were closing in on him and he couldn’t run any faster, he just couldn’t. It was broad, noisy daylight and there were people about, but they wouldn’t do anything to help him, they never did.

They just saw a bunch of kids mucking around, or at most one boy being chased by four boys, and they just walked by, because you couldn’t interfere with kids these days, not unless you wanted the police to come calling. They didn’t see a fugitive being chased by a lynch mob. Tommy had nowhere to run to, and when they caught him he didn’t even fight. He was weak and gentle, wore glasses and thought that fighting was wrong.

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