Jackanory - Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

In the aftermath of that dreadful early morning raid the resident of
Wellord were shocked, astounded at the audacity, and appalled at the
atrocity with which this event had been carried out. The residents of
Splurbeck Close however felt somewhat different in the fact that they
were still in mourning for the loss of so many of their friends and
neighbours. Most families in this tight knit community were related and
the loss came that much harder. Revenge could wait - now was a time for
grieving and rebuilding.

The villagers of Greys Wick were also astounded with how such a raid
could have caused so much damage, caused so many deaths. It was good to
retaliate after all the raids that they had had to suffer, but now they
were afraid. Afraid of reprisals that were obviously due to follow at
some time in the not to distant future. As the warm sunny days of
summer passed by thoughts of reprisals, violence and future raids were
shelved so the days could be enjoyed. Picnics by the shoreline with
home-made beer, barbeques in the garden and days out in a boat on the
water inlet fishing were a priority. Thoughts of relaxing, families and
young lovers hummed through the air and a peaceful life in
general.

Life however was not so peaceful in Wezham. This little province lay at
the end of the old disused railway line that ran from the old stone
quarries at Stonelands, across the narrow strip of land towards Greys
Wick and on up through its heart. Once up into the Greys Wick area the
line passed through an old tunnel, originally built by the convicts of
Stonelands some hundred years ago. Once out through the tunnel it ran
along the top of a high embankment and slowly downhill towards the
silted mud flats. Wezham lay north-west of the railway line and was a
den of evil, vice and full of working class downtrodden people. Often
penniless, out of work and with no ambition these human sheep just
followed each other round in circles.

At the centre of this human wasteland stood an old red brick building.
The Church of Green Pastures for Spiritual Enlightenment. This gospel
type following was the "happy clappy" centre where large breasted women
with shrill voices wreaked havoc on the eardrums of the local
inhabitants with endless chants of "I believe" and "lordy lordy you are
the one and only." These joyous events were loud, proud and full of
energy. People often in a frenzied state would throw themselves at each
other, across chairs, tables and at the very feet of the leader of this
crazed and fanatical society.

The leader of this frenzied circle of zombie like congregation was a
thick set man in a long black flowing gown that trailed behind him. It
was lined with mauve coloured silk and had a starched white collar.
Shoes of the shiniest patent black leather stuck out of the front of
his gown like rudders out of the back of a ship. His feet were huge
like his booming voice that shuddered out the word of the lord. But his
mohican style hair cut was always the topic of conversation. He'd
gotten this style from his alcoholic wife one Christmas while
holidaying in Wales with a group rehab patients from the local
area.

The Reverend Buck Fast and his wife Conny Fir had emigrated from Las
Vegas in Nevada USA. He was loud, proud and musically talented and
wanted everyone to know just how good he was. Buck was born in Yellow
Stone Park, Wyoming the son of a National Park Ranger who looked out
for the bears. An old grisly his self but this obviously didn't follow
in Buck's blood line. He must have gotten his temperament from his
mother - a big buxom black Negress from Memphis, Tennessee. She picked
cotton in the fields of the southern states with hordes of other
Negroes who just worked the land for the rich white landowners.

That was until one fine day when a travelling circus came to town and
Lullabell left the cotton fields and joined up with this troop looking
after the animals. One of her favourite jobs was to feed the big black
bear that was caged in the big red barred box. As the months passed by
and they travelled further northwards towards the Canadian border an
attachment, call it an understanding/friendship bonded between herself
and the bear. As wild as he was she could control his nature - and it
was at just one show on the grassy plains beside the Yellowstone
National Park that Norman spied Lullabell. He being a Ranger and she
with such a knack at controlling bears they had something in
common.

As the circus left town that very next day it moved on without
Lullabell. She had found her true vocation with the bears and so it was
that Norman and Lullabell became Mr &; Mrs Fast. Nine months later
along came Buck - a fine looking baby weighing in at fourteen pounds
(large by any woman's standard). Lullabell never walked straight before
but now she was definitely bow legged. Must have been the awkward birth
the vet had said, seeing as the midwife was busy elsewhere and could
not make it on time. Buck had white skin after his father but the large
feet and lips were a bit of a give away to where his genes originated
from.

As Buck grew up with a strong church upbringing it followed that when
he came of age he would follow into the spiritual way of life and as
sure as bears do shit in the woods and the Pope is Catholic, Buck did
follow that path which was destined for him alone - he became a Gospel
Minister. It was hard at first travelling from town to town preaching
the way of the lord as not all were convinced of his preaching's. In
despair he took solitude in the bottle and like others that fallen from
grace it was always good old Jack from Tennessee that was at hand. Yes,
you've guessed it - Jack Daniels good old malt. Buck had a talent
alright, for sinking more than one bottle at a showing- there were even
pictures of the odd beer bottle doing a disappearing trick.

It was at this low point in Buck's life that he came upon another
alcoholic destitute vagrant who was at that time unconscious and laid
amongst the rubbish in a back alley behind a seedy bar that Chuck was
being thrown out of via the back door. As the doormen threw Buck out on
his ass he landed straight on the top of a pile of rubbish, and as Buck
lay there in a drunken stupor a squeaky little voice came from within
the bags "your squashing me you fat pig". As Buck rolled off the bags a
tiny bedraggled face poked its head out of some potato peelings and
uttered "Got a drink mate - I've got a raging thirst on and a throat as
dry as Ghandi's daps". All Buck had to offer was his outstretched hand
- she hesitated - and finally took it. As the two hands made contact a
static reaction occurred and in an instant an overwhelming feeling was
transferred between them. The alcoholic haze subsided and as their eyes
sharpened, met and transfixed on each other a bond of attraction was
formed.
It seemed like a lifetime, it felt like hours, but it was only a moment
in time as they held one another's hand. As Buck helped her to stand
up, somewhat unsteady due to the excessive alcohol she wrapped her arm
into Buck's and they slowly made their way out of the alley. She led
him down the sidewalk, two blocks and finally as they entered the park
with it tall dark swaying trees, bushes and paths that led to duck
ponds they came upon a wooden shelter. It was here that she had found
sanctuary in this old disused groundskeepers shed where she felt safe
and warm. They lay huddled together for hours until the daylight broke
at which time she led him out and they were off to the soup kitchen of
the Salvation Army for hot tea and some breakfast.

This routine of early morning food from the soup kitchens, rummaging in
the waste bins for scraps, sleeping, drinking, begging and more binge
drinking went on for weeks. As their bond of friendships grew Buck
wanted more for this little vixen that he had taken under his wing. He
was determined to crawl back out of the gutter and make it back to
normal civilisation with his little Connie of course. She was a heavy
drinker and there was nothing that she wouldn't let pass her lips,
meths was a bit of a come down but as needs must. It was at the
Salvation Army soup kitchen one morning that he said a prayer and as it
must have been answered a feeling came upon him and in that instant he
knew that his path back to righteousness was set out before him. He was
needed back to do the Lords work.