Just Kids Playing

Part 3 of a longer story written especially for the Summer Challenge

Just Kids Playing

Charlie goes to the Hill

As the four of us headed home after hearing as much as we all wanted to about Scott's trip to Sithney Fair, I noticed that Charlie was lagging a little behind and looked very deep in thought. I deliberately slowed my pace by taking the next five or six footsteps a little slower and he very nearly bumped into me. He looked up, startled at first as though he had just been woken from a vivid dream, smiled and then looked down again.

"What's up, Chaz?" I asked him, trying to speak in the softest tone that I could.

He looked up at me sullenly, I couldn't detect any tears in his eyes but I could tell straight away that he was very, very frightened.

"I've been thinking about what Scott has just told us and I'm scared that all four of will have to go through that window. I think it's some kind of magic."

I looked sideways at him as we ambled along, thinking exactly the same thing myself. I didn't say that to him because he would probably accuse me of stealing his idea but I felt it none-the-less.

"We will talk about as a group tomorrow," I suggested. "I get the feeling that we will all be going down there again after school."

Charlie nodded and stopped. I looked up and saw for the first time that I had been walking and talking and had forgotten to turn up into the village to get to my house. It wasn't a problem because the village was small and there were a couple of ways to get back, it would just take a few minutes longer. Scott had already gone the normal way and David had obviously gone his way too. Charlie and I stood at the crossroads looking at each other awkwardly for a moment, if we had been older, we probably would’ve shared a hug but we were young boys, so didn't. Instead, we walked in opposite directions with no further word, both headed home.

The next day was a very different day weather wise. It was really overcast in the morning as I walked the short distance to school, Scott joined me as I went past his garden gate. We shared little during the walk but when we got to the school gates, Scott grabbed my arm.

"All of us are going to have to go through that window alone." he announced. "It's trying to tell us something."

I knew that Scott hadn't heard any of mine or Charlie's chat yesterday so deduced that he had been thinking about it too. I thought for a moment before nodding my agreement and letting Scott head into the schoolyard to assume his role of school wise-ass. I went in and found the small group that I hung around with during school hours and the day got underway.

The weather evened out during the day. There was a mild shower in the early afternoon which soaked the concrete playground but then weak sun came through and set about drying it again. All I could think about was how wet the woods would be and how muddy I would end up being come home time. I saw Charlie leave in a rush at the bell signalling the end of school hours and thought about chasing after him but was just too slow. I didn't need to worry though because about half an hour later all four of us were stood on the edge of the wood in a small huddle, eager to head in.

As usual, Scott went first. He had the swashbuckling attitude to do so, beating gorse out of the way with a swipe of an arm. The hay inside the barn had received a partial soaking from the earlier shower but wasn't too bad, the only thing that had really changed was the odour. The smell of damp hay always gave off the stench of animals, leavings and rancid water. If you didn't live in the countryside and therefore become used to that smell then it would easily turn your stomach over. Since rushing off earlier, Charlie had obviously taken some brave pills because he headed straight for the window and began to climb up to reach it. When he was balanced on the hay bale and happy with his footing, he turned and looked at the three of us who in turn looked back up.

"You guys tell me what happens when I come back!" he instructed. "And I'll tell you what happens to me."

"Good luck, mate!" I heard David say as Charlie grabbed the window frame and heaved himself towards it. What happened next is something that I still dream about, even now, very nearly 35 years later. Charlie, quite literally, disappeared through the closed window. His head went first, then his arms, his torso and finally his legs and feet all just disappeared into thin air. I was rapt, David had started to moan in the way that children do when they are about to launch into a full-blown crying fit and Scott started to laugh. I looked at him with a quizzical look on my face.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" I enquired.

"That's exactly what must've happened to me!" he replied, laughing harder.

Charlie looked around the open field and saw the trail track that led to the apex of Tregonning Hill just off to his right. The low gorse covered his baseball boots and felt really damp underfoot. The good thing was that he knew exactly where he was, he had walked this path hundreds of times with his grandfather. Sadly, he hadn't been able to lately because his Grandad had become weaker through illness and old age and now very rarely left the house. Everything that Charlie had said to me yesterday evening circled in his head now and he knew that he was certainly here for a reason so he moved onto the path and walked forward with his head high. It was a fair gradient but there was no climbing involved so Charlie was able to make a good pace. The path wound around the hill rather than heading straight for the top and Charlie stuck ardently to it. He had his Grandad's voice in his head that it was dangerous to leave the path and cut across the gorse because there were often Adders there who could give you a nasty nip and make you quite ill. His Grandad had showed him an Adder once as it slithered through the gorse about ten feet in front of them. Charlie remembered that it had been a light brown colour with a black zig-zag marking and that it had crossed the path quickly, disappearing into the gorse on the other side with typical snake-like efficiency. Charlie hadn't felt scared at all then because he was with his Grandad but he felt scared now, or at least on edge.

Charlie and his Grandad took this little trip every Sunday afternoon and a lot more during school holidays. The walk to the peak took just under an hour and once up there the pair would sit in front of the World War One Memorial Statue and munch on sandwiches and drink pop. The full surrounding view of the Cornish Countryside was absolutely stunning. To the south was the sea, the north west was Godolphin Hill and all around everywhere else was just miles and miles of open farmland and fields and absolute serenity.

Charlie reached the top and looked around. There was always a fair breeze what with being this high up and today was no exception. Charlie looked at his digital watch and noted that the time was 2:26pm and that the date was the 21st August, completely different to when he had climbed through the window. The monument was bare on three sides but there was one lone wreath leaning against the south-side face and held in place by two medium sized rocks. Charlie deduced that this meant somebody had been up here recently so he walked over to investigate. He could see that there was a small box wrapped in brown paper hidden behind the bulk of it. He reached in and pulled out the box. There was a label attached to it that was just a letter C in capitals. Charlie turned the box over in his hands, it wasn’t very big and easy enough to handle, trying to figure out what it contained. At that moment Charlie heard voices approaching and he could tell that they weren’t on the path. Although the breeze was fairly strong, he was able to conclude that they were coming up from the opposite side and Charlie knew that there wasn’t even a hint of a path on that side, it was thick gorse and brambles that would’ve easily come up to his shoulders. He kept hold of the box and ran for all that he was worth back down the established track.

After about fifteen minutes of descending the hill started to flatten out and Charlie slowed. He thought he had heard shouts when he took off and was certain that whoever was climbing the other side of the hill was now chasing him but when he looked around, he saw and heard nothing. A stitch now ripped into his side as the effort of his running caught up with him and he sat down hard on a small piece of short open grass, panting to get his breath back. The stitch subsided and Charlie looked at the box again. It was wrapped with brown paper and tied both side and lengthways. He held it to his ear and rattled it, again hopefully being able to discern its contents. He decided that it contained some kind of bottle and thought really hard about just opening it to find out. At that precise moment he heard an angry shout from further back up the track and what sounded like a squeal of pain followed by some cuss words that he recognized but would be in all sorts of trouble to repeat. That was the shot in the arm that Charlie needed and he was up and running again in a flash, still carrying the unopened box.

He could see the end of the path getting closer and for some reason his mind went back to yesterday when Scott had re-appeared in the upper floor of the old barn still holding the plastic box full of chocolate cake. He wasn’t entirely sure what would happen next but he kept running and then passed the end of the path. There was another angry roar and another squeal and then Charlie got the sense of flying through darkness. His stomach lurched and he thought that he was doing a kind of backflip through space. He landed with a thud on a very soft and wet surface and instantly the smell attacked his nostrils, the smell of wet hay and decaying animal leavings. He was back in the old barn.

Charlie lay still for a moment looking straight up at the ceiling of barn. Directly above him was large jagged hole that was nearly filled with encroaching trees and undergrowth. He thought that he could hear voices below him and turned towards them. Joy filled him as he recognized Scott’s voice. He clambered to his feet and poked his head through a gap in the hay and was met with the upward looking faces of his three pals. He clambered down and joined them, still holding onto the box wrapped in brown paper.