by Marc Lindsay
“All this furniture is ours now, too?” Jason asked in astonishment.
“That’s right, everything you see is ours. I don’t know what Uncle Plato did for a living, but I know he was well travelled and educated. His furnishings are probably worth a small fortune.” Helen said.
“There have been some problems with the power though, worst case scenario, the house may need new wiring.”
“Even so, I can’t believe our good luck!” Jason replied.
“Good luck? More like winning the lottery!” They burst out laughing. “Let’s unpack the car and then we can organise something for dinner,” Helen said touching Jason affectionately on the shoulder.
They sat at the large timber breakfast bar facing the kitchen, eating Chinese takeout from the cardboard containers, the room illuminated by candles.
“I’ll call an electrician first thing in the morning,” Helen said as Jason popped an egg roll into his mouth chewing enthusiastically.
“I kinda prefer the candles” Jason replied through a mouthful of food. Helen gave him a disgusted look.“Try and keep your mouth closed when eating, and yes the candles are nice but the novelty would wear off after a while with constantly having to light them and blow them out. Not to mention powering your cell phone would prove difficult,” Helen said.
Jason smirked back.
“You always say I spend way too much time listening to my music, maybe this would be a good opportunity to sing instead,” he said, proudly jumping to his feet and bursting into a hip hop song and dance number, his singing completely off key.
“Enough, enough,” Helen complained. Jason feigned a hurt look.
“I could crack my knuckles with more rhythm,” Helen said teasing.
“Really, you crack your knuckles to music? I’m thinking Beethoven,” Jason joked. Helen smiled back patronizingly.
“Very clever,” she said, then pausing. “Speaking of clever, I need to speak with your new school.” Jason let out a loud groan.
“Can’t we give it a couple of weeks or something,” he grumbled.
“Poor baby, sending you back to the salt mines to do hard labour,” she said. Jason rolled his eyes.
“Okay, okay, we’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Helen said.
Later that night Jason lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
“Things will be different here, I’ll be different here,” he whispered to the darkness. Then sighing deeply he closed his eyes.
Chapter 3
Helen walked down the ornate timber staircase dressed in pink pyjamas and matching slippers. Descending the staircase she ran her hand down the smooth banister, the design of which looked like the exposed roots of a tree. She marvelled at its detail. Upon reaching the ground floor she could hear sounds eminating from the kitchen; the sizzling of the fryer, a fridge being opened, and finally her son’s singing. Helen smiled as she entered.
Chaos was the first thing that crossed her mind as she watched Jason attempt to make scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee plus sing and dance all at once. She stifled a laugh and then as if on cue Jason whirled around to see his mother watching him intently. He grinned sheepishly, still moving to the beat in his head.
“You weren’t meant to be up yet, you’ve spoiled my surprise,” Jason protested.
“It’s okay the removalists are supposed to be coming early, and…”
“And?” prompted Jason.
“And your eggs are burning,” Helen replied deadpan. Jason turned to see a plume of smoke rising from the stove.
“Crap,” Jason exclaimed, grabbing the pan and moving it from the stove to the sink in one quick movement. “I hope you like your eggs well done!” Jason asked, Helen wrinkled her nose in distaste.
“Um I think I’ll go with the toast and coffee,” Helen observed. Jason nodded in agreement as he tipped the burnt remains into the rubbish bin, and the pan into the sink.
“Yeah, probably for the best,” Jason replied. Helen poured herself a coffee and the pair adjourned to the dining table.
“I appreciate the effort though,” Helen said with a smile.” Jason waved her off.
“I’m just glad Fiona stocked us with some essential items.”
“I am, after all, a valued customer,” Helen beamed. Jason looked dubious.
“Don’t get me wrong mum, I’m really proud of you, but the way they’re bending over for you, it’s kinda unusual,” Jason said diplomatically.
“I know it’s a little weird but I’m trying to keep a positive spin on it, being the only vet in town carries a lot of weight in rural communities.”
“When you’re right you’re right,” Jason conceded. “Besides this place is unbelievable, I’m more than happy with this deal!”
The removalist arrived in a small white truck an hour after breakfast, an older man in his mid-fifties, balding, handlebar moustache and built like a tattooed tank. His partner was a younger man early twenties, blonde hair, big and beefy. His face bore a flushed complexion, he looked more like a butcher than a professional mover. The pair worked efficiently unloading the truck and with help from Jason, they were finished before lunch. Both men were polite and wished Helen and Jason good luck before they departed.
They ate a modest lunch before commencing the tedious task of unpacking boxes. After an hour Helen decided to send Jason for a walk as he was getting bored and becoming counterproductive.
“Why don’t you get out of the house for a bit, stretch your legs and check out the town,” Helen suggested.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, we still have so much to do,” Jason said.
“It’s going to take us a week to get fully unpacked, so it’ll still be here when you get back,” Helen replied.
“You’re the boss,” Jason sighed. “I do want to check out the library Ms Appleby mentioned.” he added.
“Then it’s settled, I’ll see you when you return,” Helen said. Jason grabbed his phone and ear plugs before departing.
The sky was clear and blue, but chilly due to a cool breeze blowing. Luckily he had dressed appropriately, jeans, hoodie and canvas skater shoes. He strolled along the pavement listening to his music, a natural athleticism in his step. The way he was observing his surroundings, it was evident that he was new in town.
Jason eventually found his way to Perigord’s central park and was surprised at its size. The park appeared deserted and after a couple of minutes of walking he stumbled across a man selling hotdogs near a statue.
“Afternoon, I was wondering if you could help me? I’m trying to find the library,” he asked politely. The hotdog vendor looked Jason up and down with curiosity.
“New in town?” He asked. Jason nodded.
“Moved here yesterday with my mum,” Jason replied.
“Your mum wouldn’t be the new vet would she?”
“How did you know?” Jason said, surprised at the vendor’s apparent knowledge. The vendor laughed at his reaction.
“You know what they say about news and small towns.”
Jason conceded his point.
“You said you were looking for the library?”
“That’s right”, where can I find it?”
The vendor pointed over Jason’s shoulder.
“Go that way until you reach the Greymalkin fountain then turn left, you can’t miss it,” he said helpfully.
“Thanks,” Jason replied. He paused before leaving and pointed to the cloaked statue behind the vendor. “Who’s that supposed to be?”
The vendor looked over his shoulder at the statue, then back at Jason
“Oh that’s Heinrich Perigord,” he answered. Jason looked at the statue sceptically.
“He really isn’t what you would think of as a pioneer,” Jason remarked. The vendor laughed good-naturedly.
“Thanks again for your help,” Jason said then turned and walked away.
Continuing on down the winding cobblestone path he came to a small clearing with a fountain located in the centre. Atop the fountain
stood another bronze statue of a soldier being mauled by wolves. The expression of fear on the soldier’s face and the ferocity of the wolves appearing very real. The image was both gruesome and fascinating in its detail. Not the sort of image you would expect in a public place. At the statue’s base a small modest sign read ‘The Death of Greymeade’. Jason studied the sign intently, finding it strange that no other information was written on such an elaborate scene.
A short time later he found himself standing at the front of Perigord Library. The vendor was right, Jason thought. You definitely can’t miss it. The Library was located within the park and nestled amongst dense vegetation. It was an entirely stone structure that would have looked more at home in a South American jungle. The architect had clearly been influenced by the Mayan period as it resembled one of their pyramids, but in shape only. There were no external steps to the top, only beautifully detailed stain glass windows depicting images of a giant tree. Two granite statues stood guard over stone steps at the buildings base that led up the entrance, framed by a large rock arch carved with ivy, and finally a simple but intimidating timber and iron door.
Something primal stirred within Jason. Despite its foreboding appearance, it felt safe and familiar. Slowly he made his way up and pushed his way through the door.
Chapter 4
The interior of the library was polar opposite to the exterior. Its outer shell was akin to an iceberg, with the vast majority of the structure located below the surface. Instead of walking in, Jason found a large staircase leading down. Standing guard at the top was a statue of a beautiful Greek goddess holding a bow and arrow at the ready. Jason read the name ‘Artemis’ on the statue’s base. Now standing at the top he could see a giant maze of timber bookshelves below. As he made his way down the stairwell, colourful ambient light flowed in from the stain glass windows located above. From what he could guess there didn’t appear to be many patrons within the library, but it was hard to tell with the sheer size of its labyrinth-like layout.
At the bottom of the staircase sat two giant stone gargoyles, vaguely cat-like in appearance but covered in reptilian scales. They had no ears and possessed massive club-like tails their eyes closed as if asleep. Running his hand over the head of one of the gargoyles, Jason could feel the smooth ripple of the scales and was amazed at the intricate detail. How long would it have taken the artist to accomplish such a piece, he wondered. Everything he could see had been painstakingly built or created from the shelves and furniture to the paintings and sculptures decorating the walls and tables. How could any of this exist in a small rural town when it rivalled anything that could be found in New York, London, or Paris?
Jason was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the voice behind him at first. “Excuse me,” the voice asked, followed by a gruff clearing of a throat. Jason turned around to see a giant of a man standing before him, easily six foot five and around two hundred and fifty pounds. He started to think of an old ballad about a drifter who saved a bunch of miners and died at the end. The individual before him definitely fit the description.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he growled. Jason was still taking in the giant’s appearance, it wasn’t just the man’s size but also the way he was dressed. Physically he looked like someone who would be more at home storming a beach with a platoon of men, or busting up fights in a biker bar. Instead, here he stood wearing a three-piece suit, bow tie and reading glasses perched on his nose. A name tag declared him to be the head librarian, bearing the name ‘U. Walker’.
Walker ran a hand through his hair.
“Look kid, shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked impatiently. Jason regained his composure.
“I’m sorry sir,” he stammered. Walker raised an eyebrow and regarded the young man before him. “I just moved to town and wanted to check out the library.”
“Okay slick you’ve got my attention,” he said crossing his massive arms over his chest. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“I was told there were books on Heinrich Perigord here.”
Walker’s jaw clenched again, clearly surprised by Jason’s questions.
“What for?” Walker asked bluntly.
“Our realtor was telling me about him and I was curious.”
“And?” Walker enquired. Jason’s cheeks had begun to redden under Walker’s cross-examination and he too, was getting irritated.
“I don’t mean to appear rude or anything, but isn’t this a library? Aren’t you supposed to help me find books?” Jason demanded. From the look in Walker’s eyes, he was clearly enjoying the reaction from Jason, his smile growing wider.
“Relax sport, I just want to know so I could help you with specifics.” Jason seemed to deflate, not wanting to argue further.
“I just wanted some books, can you help or not?” he sighed.
“Follow me,” Walker said, striding off without waiting for a response. Jason followed, remaining a couple of steps behind the big man. Walker paced robotically through the maze of books. Jason noted that he never looked where he was going. It was as though he had some built-in radar directing him, which was good, as there was no signage on shelves or coding’s on books.
After several minutes of walking Jason come to two conclusions. One the librarian had no idea what he was doing, and two, they were both lost. “Hey, we might have to send up a flare or something,” Jason joked nervously. Walker ignored the comment and after another minute of walking he stopped by a shelf, squatted down and looked intently at the books. Walker ran a finger along the spines before retrieving a thick tome. He did this five more times, after which he stood and faced Jason with a stare that could eat through steel
“Despite the fact that Heinrich founded this town and was a central figure in its history, the man was a complete dick,” Walker said bluntly. Jason raised an eyebrow. “Keep an open mind and don’t always believe everything you read on this subject,” Walker added. Jason nodded, but it was clear he was only humouring the librarian.
“These books are fairly good accounts of Perigord, his early years, ideals, and some limited information on his church. If you need anything else come back and see me,” Walker said helpfully as he handed the pile of books to Jason, who accepted them with a nod and a forced smile. “Thanks,” he replied. Jason had a quick look around realising that he didn’t know his way out.
“Um, Mr Walker?” Jason enquired, Walker pointed to the end of the shelf. “Just down there and turn left,” he responded. Jason looked to where Walker pointed, total confusion plastered on his face.
“That can’t be,” Jason said puzzled, looking back at Walker only to find him gone.
Jason did a double take.
“Where did he go?” Jason exclaimed, then sighed. With books tucked under his arm he rounded the corner and found himself facing the reception desk opposite the staircase leading back out. Jason was dumbstruck.
“This isn’t the way we…” Jason’s voice trailed off as he turned back the way he had just came, only to find himself in a different aisle altogether.
“I could have sworn this was the way I just came,” he whispered to himself. Slowly backing out he once again found himself facing the reception desk and after a moment of pure bewilderment, he shook his head and walked over to the counter.
Reception was unattended and as Jason was about to ring the service bell, a figure appeared from behind the counter. The library assistant was a short stocky woman aged somewhere between 50 and 100 years, black tribal tattoos adorning her face. Despite her age, nothing about her appeared soft or feeble, her dark weathered face and hands looking as if they were carved from wood, her dark grey hair was thick and arranged in corn rows. Her name tag read, ‘Ms A. Jax’. She eyed Jason suspiciously.
“How can I help you?” she crowed in a voice barely human.
“Can I check these books out please?” Jason asked. The old woman stretched her mouth wide in a crude caricature of a smile, exposing a mouth full of square teeth that look mor
e like the grill of an old car.
“Of course you can,” she replied, her voice like the grinding of a truck’s gears. “That’s why I’m here after all”
Chapter 5
Jason arrived home late in the afternoon, walking through the front door, he headed straight for the kitchen.
“Hey mum, I’m home,” Jason called out, “I’m here,” Helen called back. Jason entered to find that his mother had been busy since his departure; all the boxes had been cleared away, now displaying a beautiful gourmet kitchen, timber and polished granite. Helen was preparing dinner, her knife a blur as she sliced vegetables on an antique cutting board.
“How was your excursion,” she enquired.
“Great. This town is crazy beautiful, if not a little strange,” he replied.
“Strange?” Helen questioned as she placed the vegetables into the steamer.
“Yeah, Twin Peaks strange,” Jason answered as he pulled up a stool. “Don’t get me wrong, the people have been friendly enough, it’s the surroundings, they remind me of a Tim Burton film. The park and library need to be seen to be believed.” Helen had now stopped what she was doing and was watching her son with concern.
“This isn’t a bad thing, is it?” she asked.
“No, no, of course not,” Jason added quickly. “Besides, I’m not exactly Mr normal, maybe I’ve found a place where I fit in,” he joked.
Helen visibly relaxed. “Tell me more about the library, did you find the books you were after?”
“The library resembles a Mayan temple, most of it built underground, and inside the shelves are arranged like a labyrinth. They have some of the most amazing art you’ve ever seen,” Jason said excitedly. Helen watched her son become more animated as he described his afternoon. “And the librarian is this massive pro wrestler looking dude who dresses like a geek in a bow tie and reading glasses. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a hit man for the mob who’s under witness protection or something,” Jason chuckled. “He was helpful though, and I did get some books on Perigord. You’d be surprised at the selections there.”
