Frozen Worlds

David hated the night, not the whole night but that point where the
lights went out and he had to go to sleep. Everything looked different
in dim greyscale. The longer he stared at things the more they
contorted. He would close his eyes but they would jump open every time
the house let out a creaking sigh.

The light from the hall way would push its way through the slightly
ajar door, and open like a fan across bedroom floor. It was a
comforting light from outside but an illuminating one into the troubles
inside. David wasn't always scared of the dark. But he recently began
to suspect that something was afoot in his room, the centre for some
impending trouble.

The room was the typical habitat of an eight-year-old boy. Toys from
his early years sat innocently with the latest contraptions that
Christmas delivered. He had a small desk, which was littered with
crayons, and a well-worn beanbag that his grandmother gave him. At the
far end of the room was his clothes cupboard, a small vertical
compartment with a slatted door. The cupboard was always the source of
David's anxiety. He tried his hardest never to look at it at night and
would only ever open it if it were daytime. But the cupboard was
David's Pandora's box. Even if its contents were a complete phantasm
David still wouldn't approach. He was sure he could see the slats
exhaling, hear its wheezing at night. This was how David had lived for
the past month, in fear of his bedroom at night. It was when the hall
light went off that he really got scared, when his mother and father
would shout "good night" from the bottom of the stare well that his
heart really began to beat. His eyes would slowly adjust to the new
light in the room. The cupboard seemed more foreboding.

David began to feel sleepy. His fear slowly ebbed away only to be
replaced gradual fatigue. His eyes grew heavy and body loose. David
soon forgot about the cupboard and entered a deep sleep. His small body
hugged itself in the foetal position as he clutched his teddy bear.
From down stairs came Raffles, David's terrier, who would always sleep
atop of his bed, when David's parents turned the gas fire off down
stairs. Raffles jumped up on the bed and gave David a lick on his
cheek. He waited for a response but David didn't. He just continued
down the precipice of slumber. Raffles stared for a moment and then
curled up in the crevice made by David's crooked legs. The Terrier's
head hung at an oblique angle over David's shin, and, just as quickly
as he entered the room, he fell asleep.

Before long the whole house was asleep. Dreaming of other places. David
was no exception:

Gliding the clouds, without feeling, the bastard village lay below, a
dark irregular limestone scab that sat atop of the surrounding
topography. Beyond its boundaries the milieu of the countryside
squawked and gnarled, begging for the man made monstrosity to fall, to
break under the continual barrage of the changing seasons. To be
crushed under the gradual flexural slip of the millennia beneath it.
The village wouldn't budge; it just became stronger, bigger. Eventually
its tendrils would reach the black, foreboding obsidian rock beyond the
southern hill. While the pulse of the land, beneath the leviathan would
repudiate back into the void. The human stench grew stronger amongst
the sprawl, to slow to notice, but it did. It seemed that this
unstoppable force of biomass and bricks would never be halted in its
ceaseless desire of new frontier. But, deep in the strata, where the
impudent black-eyed angels danced with the infidels of metamorphoses,
stirred a parasite of the soul. Down here the bell never tolls, the
snow never falls. The world only changes for necessity, never progress.
The detrital swell of ancient history only managed to provoke the
earth's fury.

A shapeless nematode began to wriggle pushing aside its prehistoric
shackles. Searching, like a homeless remora for a new shark. Hoping,
for its own existence that it would never stop, carry on moving. The
nemesis of man and the unlikely ally of nature, the black slime crept
up, squeezing up the porosity, closer to the surface. The mass writhed
in excitement, whispering a thousand thoughts of pleasure as it
ejaculated upon the land. Out on the street. It's cacophony simmered in
the air but was ever as pertinent. The shameless hooligan cackled in
delight of its newfound genesis.

The following morning David was awoken by Raffle's wet tongue.
"Raffles, wha- wha-&;#8230;" halfway between his bed room and some
where else David fought against the air." Raffles gave him a further
barrage of lickings and David awoke.

"Wake up David, have you seen outside!" Shouted David's mother from the
kitchen downstairs. David raced to his bedroom window and tugged back
the curtains. An unusual amount of glare burst through the opening and
David's eyes squinted as they adjusted to the light.

"It's snowing mum!" David eyes grew wider again, wanting to take in
more of the wonderful site. "Come on Raffles were goin' outside." David
jumped out of his pyjama top and bottoms, pulled on his underpants and
ran downstairs with Raffles in tow.

David bolted down stairs and ran for the door, but was
intercepted:

"David you're not going outside like that. We don't want you catching a
chill," said David's mother, like a cruise missile from the
kitchen.

"Aw yeah, sorry mum."

"Come into kitchen for the mean time David and have some breakfast,
while you're doing that I'll get you some clothes ready."

He entered the kitchen to find his father drinking coffee. David's
father, a banker by nature read the Sunday Times, while his mother,
rummaged through the freshly cleaned pile of clothes. David's father
turned towards him when he jumped through the doorway.

"Good morning son," greeted David's father. " Have a good night sleep?
I bet you're excited about going outside in the snow." David had never
seen snow before, except on television. The mention of the word
intoxicated his little body. "I tell you what son, if you wait until
I've finished the crossword I'll take you up to the hill and we'll go
sledging together."

"Yeah Dad, can Raffles come as well."

"Sure he can, it wouldn't be fun without Raffles." As David's father
tickled Raffles beneath the chin.

Before long David was strapped head to toe in tumbledry-warmed clothes.
David's father was outside getting the sledges out from the garage and
raffles was eating 'fluff-u-bix' dog food from his bowl

David put his gloves on and his mother knelt down before him. She was a
slight lady with a warm and reassuring glow about her. She smiled,
zipped up David's coat, kissed his cheek and pulled down his balaclava
in that way only mothers do. "I look really silly mum. I don't look
anything like a proper adventurer." He was now more woollen avenger
than Scott of the Antarctic.

"Of coarse you look like a real adventurer. You don't think real
explorers go round the world in their y-fronts do you? They all wear
special clothing, and you my dear look like a real adventurer."

"I do? Johnny Slater says I look like a big nancy boy."

"Well, just like his mother Jonathon Slater has a foul mouth. Anyhow,
who says he knows best? I know best and I say you look super
lovable."

"Mum not too loud, Raffles is listening."

"Raffles is only a dog dear."

"Not at all mum, Raffles is my right hand man and trusted confident. I
told him that if we ever get marooned he could eat me to survive." They
both looked at Raffles who seemed more interested in licking his
scrotum.

"Well that's wonderful dear but you won't get marooned, not in
Oxfordshire, it just doesn't happen." His mother let out one more
beaming smile and kissed him on the nose. David tried to squirm away
but had to make do with a boyish wipe of the cuff. "Now make sure that
you and your father are back for tea. You know he's a big kid at
heart."

"Can Raffles eat with us?"

"Yes, I suppose so, but don't get him to muddy." With that last
sentence David was out of the door with Raffles in tow.

"Bye-bye mum," he bleated over his shoulder. "Lets go and find Dad
Raffles."

David, Raffles and his David's father (carrying a very old sledge) made
the short walk through the village to the base of the hill. On the way
they saw Mrs. Keppel walking home from the village newsagents. "Good
morning Mrs Keppel." Exclaimed David's father.

"Oh, morning Clive." Mrs Keppel was an elderly lady who lived next door
to David and his family. Being a widower who never had any children Mrs
Keppel was very fond of the young family next door. "Isn't a wonderful
day," David's father nodded in agreement.

"I'm taking David up on the hill to go sledging." He added.

"Oh that sounds wonderful. Have you ever seen snow before David?"

"No Mrs Keppel, but I really excited." David knew how to be polite.
Especially around Mrs. Keppel who wasn't averse to giving him a little
extra spending money from time to time. Mrs Keppel beamed at
David.

"Maureen's in Mrs. Keppel. Why don't you go round for a cup of
tea?"

"Oh thank you Clive, I can't this morning but maybe later."

"That's okay." David was now getting visible excited standing so close
to the foot of the hill.

"I think young David is itching to get on that hill. So I won't keep
you."

"I think you're right Mrs. Keppel. I'll catch you later."

"Yes, bye Clive and you to David." Mrs. Keppel turned and hobbled off
towards the centre of the village.

"Come on David, let's head up the hill.. David?" A small figure and a
dog was already clambering up the gently steeped hill that was flanked
on both sides by trees. Half way up the hill was a small stile that
David helped Raffles over before jumping over himself, shortly followed
by his red faced and exerted father. "Slow done David there's no rush."
David continued, high on the changed world he used to live in. The snow
filled David with activity as it enveloped his feet with every
advancing little stride. The powdery white substance clung to his
trouser leg, gloves and sprayed upwards and stuck to his balaclava.
Raffles, instead of running in a uniform manner had leap up and bound
like a mountain lynx. Every descent of a bound merely resulted in
Raffles heading deeper into the snow and made every advancing ascent
considerably more tiring. David soon left behind Raffles as he reached
the apex of the hill. When he got to the top he was frantically
breathing, taking in as much of the icy air as possible, and breathing
out a continual barrage of condensing vapour. He bent down and held his
knees, his heartbeat frantically in his tiny chest, but he didn't care.
David raised his head and looked out over the snow-covered landscape.
It looked, to a small boy, like the heavens had settled down to earth.
Cars lay immobile in the two main streets of the village that
intersected at the church. The churchyard looked even stranger to David
with the snow highlighting the jutting tombstones. Beyond the village,
traversing the main valley David could the far off river, frozen like a
sliver of mercury. The further David strained his eyes to look further
out across this ice world, the more he was denied by a shimmering
blanket of mist. David smiled with glee, as his cheeks filled turn red
with the cold. Not a bird could be heard.

"David! David! You shouldn't run off like that." David's father finally
reached him, holding the sledge over his back, and a now exhausted
Raffles under his arm.

"Sorry Dad."

"It's okay son, I know you're excited." David's father understood,
after all he'd been a boy once. "Hey, fancy a ride down to the bottom
of the hill. I'm sure we can pick up a lot of speed on this slope."
David's father was right; the slope was at least an hundred metres
high, relatively steep and levelled off gently at its base. "We could
have a snow ball fight at the bottom if you want."

David didn't so much agree verbally but sat himself on the sledge with
Raffles in his lap. "Come on then lad." David's father positioned
himself at the back of the sledge and began to push its small wooden
frame forward. "Hold on tight David." His father immediately jumped
onto the back, sat down and gripped his son and small terrier tightly.
The small forward push was enough, on the slippery snow and steep
inclination, to send the sledge down hill. To begin with the sledge,
like a roller coaster, tantalisingly eked slowly along the slope,
picking up speed. Before David knew it the sledge was pelting down the
slope, roaring under its metal rails and spitting up a crest of
glistening white. The world passed by in a blur and David, followed by
his father let out a scream of pure exhilaration. Raffles closed his
eyes and whined in terror. The sledge was now at the wrong end of the
slope and beginning to slow down on the levelling out plain. The rate
at which it was slowing wasn't enough before the oncoming stonewall.
David's father realised this and spread his legs apart and jamming them
into the passing snow. To David it was pure joy as the more snow began
hitting him in the face.

When the sledge eventually came to a halt David was in a state of pure
excitement. Never in his relatively short life had he ever experienced
anything so joyous. David's father on the other hand looked positively
exhausted and gasped for air after his attempt to stop the rocketing
sledge. Raffles looked even more distraught after having never been
subjected to such an unrelenting ride of abject terror. "I want to go
again Dad, again."

Trying to force the words out, while clutching at the air, "Ye- yeah,
oh Jesus Christ, sure, but just give me a few minutes."

David's father should have stayed and read his paper, as soon they had
ascended and descended the slope six times. Only when David was too
tired did they stop. Instead they began having a snowball fight at the
base of the hill. Even though Raffles seemed to an unfortunate civilian
casualty in a lot of David impending strikes he much preferred it to
the abject terror of hurtling down a hill in a small child's lap, dogs
are not cut out for winter sports.

David had taken to picking up a handful of snow and clasping it tightly
into a well-formed ball. His father even taught him to keep adding
further layers to make the missiles larger. He raised his arm,
containing his most recent rolled projectile and was about to throw it
at his father when a small rabbit ran in between the two of them,
toward the tree line. Raffles clicked and raced after the rabbit,
crossing the snow faster than the small hopping mammal.

"Raffles come back." Shouted David. David father responded quicker by
giving pursuit of Raffles and the rabbit. David dropped the snowball to
the ground and moved slowly to the tree line that Raffles and the
Rabbit had disappeared into. David's father entered the forest but was
slowed down by the thick branches of the coniferous trees. Raffles
didn't have such a problem zipping beneath them and closing down on his
quarry until, in a small opening lunged fiercely at the rabbit.

David's father still couldn't see Raffles but he could hear the
snarling and the helpless and piercing screeching of the rabbit.
Raffles, twice the size of the Rabbit had leapt upon its back and
forced it downward with his sharp paws. Without blinking Raffles
clamped down on the Rabbits neck with his muzzle piercing the loose
skin above the shoulder blades. The Rabbit shrieked in pain, but still
fought on.

David's father continued to fight on through the thickets.

The Rabbit tried to struggle free from under Raffles paws, in an
attempt to break back into the woods, but Raffles had a good hold of
the skin and the Rabbit was forced to pirouette sharply on the spot.
The two animals were now staring directly at each other. Raffles
Tugging at the flesh and the rabbit trying to push itself backwards.
Their eyes locked, Raffles eclipsed with intent while the Rabbits wide
open in desperate fear. The brown fur around the face of the Rabbit was
now clotted in blood and began running into it big black eyes and down
its face. Raffles grew more excited on tasting the thick rich blood.
The once white canines became sullied in the sufferer's pain. The
Raffles continued to growl fiercely as he bit through fat and muscle.
The rabbits alarming call went unhindered and the forest looked on.
Gradually the rabbit's energy slowly ebbed away and soon put up less
resistance. Raffles pulled the Rabbit closer and released the tight
grip around the back of the neck and lunged for the throat. Raffles
jaws crushed around the rabbit neck and slowly squeezed. The rabbit's
mouth opened as wide as it has ever opened before, showing large white
dripping with saliva and blood. Raffles pierced through the trachea
causing a loud pop. The sinews, muscles and tendons that held animal
respiratory system together came under immense strain. Raffles pulled
harder and harder, he was the only animal making noise now as the last
desperate vapour of breath rose from the rabbits gaping jaw. It finally
shuddered in closing spasm before Raffles finally tore out the last
vestiges of a mauled throat.

When David's father came close to the clearing the heated sounds he'd
heard a few minutes earlier were gone. Moving away the final branch of
obscurity revealed Raffles standing over the decimated animal. "Shew
Raffles, shew." David's father waved his arms frantically at Raffles
who didn't understand what he'd done wrong. David's father knelt over
the Rabbit, staring deeply into its wide-open eyes, "Jesus, it's still
alive." The Rabbit was barely alive, gently coughing blood and
breathing through the open throat. Soon it would bleed to death not
without considerable pain. At that moment David entered the clearing
and saw the scene. Raffles standing by a tree frantically excited by
the taste of blood and David's father standing over the mutilated
rabbit surrounded by a halo of blood that the snow absorbed with gusto.
David gasped. He felt physically sick, especially after hearing the
gentle wheezing of the rabbit.

"I'm sorry David, I'm afraid Raffles has killed the rabbit." David
didn't answer. "I want you to go back to the field David and wait till
I come back." David nodded and slowly walked backwards, transfixed by
the aftermath of events. When David's father thought that David was
gone he picked up the suffering rabbit by the ears. The body hung limp
and lifeless. He stared into its eyes, eyes of shock, fear and
humiliation. The nose quivered. David's father turned to see if there
was any sign of David, there wasn't, not to his knowledge anyway. David
was there, still mortified by what he'd seen, hiding in the thickets.
David's father, left arm on the ears, tightly held the thorax with his
right arm. He quickly pulled his arms apart in an open arc removing the
head from the body, tearing the weakened throat. The animal died
instantly. He threw the head and body into the woods and wiped his
gloves in the remaining white snow. "Oh well Raffles, suppose you're
only an animals." He grabbed Raffles by the scruff of the neck and
pushed his head, with some resistance from Raffles into snow, removing
the remaining blood.

It was only when David burst into tears was it evident that he was
still there. "Oh god," sighed his father. "David, where are you, come
here." David came out from the trees wiping tears from his eyes. And
hugged his father.

"Why did Raffles do that Dad? Raffles never kills, he's not a bad
dog."

"But Raffles is a dog David, an animal, and occasionally animals have
to do things like that. He doesn't know better David. If he did then
he'd be bad, but he doesn't." His father wiped away the tears and
lifted him up off the ground. "You do understand why I did what I did
don't you."

"'Cos it was suffering."

"Yes David. Come on lets go home. We'll stop on the way and get some
chocolate."

"Please dad I just want to go home."

" Okay son."

That night was no different, the grey indifferent room spoke its own
torment as the cupboard gently sighed and whispered. Something was
still growing in this most frozen of worlds.