Poppy Darke

by Colin Wraight

  “Slurpe!” Jess whooped with sheer joy and started running. “…Over here...Slurpe I’m here!”

  The creature took three attempts before building up the courage to jump out of the tree, and even then crashed through several branches and landed on to his back, moaning in pain.

  Jess ran over. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, sure I am. I slipped!” The Goyles huge eyes belied his true emotions, he was embarrassed and his body ached. “What are you looking at me like that for? Has that vicar painted me again?”

  “No he hasn’t Slurpe...You were broken during daylight..! Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to be well…? You know?” Jesse didn’t know how to say it, so he just said it. “You were dead!”

  Slurpe ran his bony hands up and down his torso. “Dead? I feel as good as the day I was carved out of granite me.” He twisted his head all the way round and spun his eyes. “Solid as a rock me... Top bananas.” Then his eyes filled with tears. “.. Going home now… want my mummy!”

  “There’s definitely a scar dear.” Putrid Rottenoffle Said as she stroked her sons chiseled stomach. “What exactly did this girl look like then?”

  Jesse had been sat quietly for a while, he had his own question but now wasn’t the time. “She’s my new neighbor, that’s all I know.”

  Gulp Rottenoffle had to wear both a belt and braces to keep his raggedy old trousers from slipping below his huge stomach, and was busy pulling them up when his tongue suddenly shot out of his head and snatched a moth in flight. As he crunched on his favorite food a trickle of moth juice ran down the side of his cheek and collected as a droplet on his chin.

  “Oh Gulp.” His angry wife shouted. “I was saving that for supper. You’re so greedy some times.”

  Gulp let out a loud belch and grinned. “Better out than in! That’s what I say… Right then what was you saying about these kids throwing stones? I’ll get my coat… Where’s my hat?”

  “No dear… Leave it… Leave it dear. You know what happened the last time you got angry and went round knocking on doors.” Putrid said and stood blocking the doorway. “That nice vicar had a heart attack and he very nearly died, didn’t he?”

  “That idiot painted my kid bright orange… He called it modern blooming art, he did. Mind you, I suppose it’s just as well he couldn’t remember anything after that operation he had.”

  “I don’t want you going round and causing any more trouble… Just leave it dear.”

  Gulp simply grunted in a halfhearted agreement and sank back down into his armchair clutching a mug of fermented honey in lukewarm rainwater.

  “It’s for the best.”

  It’s now or never thought Jesse. “Excuse me Mr. and Mrs. Rottenoffle, now all that stuff has been sorted out… Can I ask you something?”

  “What is it dear?” Putrid asked as she put a tray of live beetles in the oven.

  “You know that I’m a ghost? Don’t you?”

  “I’m listening dear.”

  “Well the thing is… I can’t find my grave; I can’t remember dying and well, I just don’t feel dead!”

  Putrid shot a sideways glance at her husband and then at Slurpe, both looked away. “We don’t let ghosts in the house dear. We certainly don’t let our son play with ghost, ghouls, wraiths or phantoms and you can add specter’s to that list. I don’t like yer’ specter’s.”

  “So what am I?”

  “You’re what we call ‘a lost soul’ deary.”

  Jesses’ eyes lit up. “Could it be that I’m still alive? Or get back somehow?”

  Gulp yawned. “Could be yer in hospital in one of them there comas? I saw it happen years ago. But then again you smell like….. Well you smell like...”

  “He smells like magic dear… Terrible magic!” she shook her head in sympathy. “Would have told you sooner dear… But we didn’t want to upset you.”

  Chapter 4

  The sun had already dipped over the horizon, but the town was still bathed in gold. Poppy reluctantly tore her eyes away from two of the kids in the distance and made her way through a gap into the garden, she ran across the lawn and through a patio door into the living room. “Mum, I’m back.” she barked and didn’t even wait for a reply before pushing over a packing case in anger and bolting upstairs to her room.

  It was less than thirty seconds later that her mother walked in and told her to turn the music down. “Where have you been?” she snapped fiercely. “You were grounded. I’ve been looking for you all afternoon.”

  “I was just….”

  “Don’t give me any of your excuses. What happened to you?” She paused for a second and her voice softened slightly. ”I thought you were trying to change.”

  “But….”

  “No buts. So what was it today? Shoplifting, a touch of Graffiti or did we mug a little old lady for her pension? I can’t run around this town looking for you all the time in my condition.” She patted her stomach. “And stay out of those woods.” She moved closer to Poppy and eyed her up and down. “Look at the state of those jeans, you’re covered in mud and are those trainers the ones I bought you last week...? You’ve been fighting haven’t you?”

  Poppy just stood there pouting as usual with her hands on her hips, waiting for the questions to stop and almost pulled a face at the unborn brat. “Please mum.” she begged. “I hate it here. Why can’t we go back to London?” Genuine tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’ve got no friends, the kids all hate me and there’s nothing to do here….” she put her hands together as if to pray. “I’ll be good I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep! We’re staying here, because, there are no shops to steal from and no trains to paint your name on. Just have a shower; your tea will be ready soon.” Turning on her heals she snapped the door shut firmly behind her then opened it again.” And your dad called today, he said hello and he really wanted to speak to you.” Then she was gone.

  Poppy’s Dad was a Professor of Archaeology and was hardly ever in the country let alone at home. It seemed to Poppy an exciting life flying around the world looking for treasure, but all her dad said he did was dig posh holes. Poppy might be just a kid but she wasn’t stupid, she knew about her mum’s secret boyfriend almost from the start.

  When her dad found out he seemed heartbroken but accepted the inevitable split without putting up much of a fight. He just turned up one day out of the blue, packed his belongings, and left. Even though he was never there anyway, the house seemed, well, different and Poppy was somehow alone in the world. She hated her mother for what she’d done and she’d never forgive her. The boyfriend was long gone and lately her parents were always talking and laughing on the phone. So Poppy wasn’t sure what was going on, no one ever told her anything.

  That night Poppy slept without any ghostly interruptions. This was just as well really, because her nightmares were even more terrifying. They were the type you never quite remember no matter how hard you try.

  Dawn brought only a chorus of bird song, the faint whiff of manure and the non-stop bleating of sheep. Was there any wonder most people lived in the city.

  Poppy lay flat on her stomach, arms outstretched and motionless. Only the sound of the tall grass whispering in the gentle wind muffled the sound of her pounding heart. He was coming now, slowly, drifting closer. Her mouth felt sticky and dry, her lips parched, but she dare not move, not even to lick her lips. At last she could see him clearly, and was about to make her move, but he hesitated just out of reach beyond the buttercups.

  Carried on a spring breeze over a sea of green and rainbow colors, the Butterfly gently danced on the air, skipping from flower to flower. Millions of years of evolution saw that his needs were simple, food and a female and in no particular order. Instinctively he sensed something in the air, his antennae and whole body quivered nervously at the strange scent. Few creatures actually hunted Butterflies for food. Here there was danger, all he could do was keep perfectly still, and wait.

 
; The butterfly hadn’t moved for what seemed like ages, Poppy couldn’t wait any longer. She began to inch forward, so slowly that her movements were almost unnoticeable. It flapped its wings for balance and Poppy froze, it was now or never. She lunged forward.

  “Stop it, leave it alone…”

  Poppy fell onto her side and missed the butterfly completely, as her head snapped back to face the voice. There was a small boy but he was standing with the sun on his back. She squinted to see him better as she climbed first to her knees then to her feet. “Who are you?” She asked.

  He stared back for several seconds, he seemed a little surprised. “Don’t hurt the Butterfly.”

  Poppy looked him up and down and concluded he must be from the farm. He was wearing scruffy old jeans, what once passed as a red T-shirt and thread bare sneakers. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  There was a long silence as he just gawped back at her. Eventually he forced the words out. “Jesse.” he replied shyly. “What’s yours?”

  “Poppy… Was it you who helped me get away from those kids at the cemetery yesterday?”

  He ignored her question, his guilt without doubt, and gazed down at his tatty shoes. Poppy smiled, he was so small and he looked like he hadn’t bathed in weeks.

  “Can you tie laces?” he asked without looking up.” I keep tripping over mine.”

  “I’ll try.” she said softly and knelt down. “Well come here then.” The laces were so old and worn that Poppy could barely feel them in her hands. As she tied them she looked up in to the boys eyes. He just stared at her hands, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “There you go, nice and tight.”

  “You did it!” He looked her incredulously and then said with some surprise. “You tied my lace.”

  “I’ll show you some time, it’s easy peasy. Are you coming down to the town? I’ll walk with you.”

  “I live …..” He gave half a nod in the direction Poppy’s house and then changed his mind and gestured towards the other end of town. “Over there.”

  Poppy started to head back “Does your mum know you’re out here?” It suddenly occurred to her that such a young boy shouldn’t be up here all on his own.

  He just shrugged and went back to looking at his laces.” Will you come back tomorrow?” He asked. “I don’t have many friends.”

  Poppy barely heard the question; His voice seemed so small, it was almost like a distant echo. She looked back over her shoulder and was about to smile but Jess had gone, completely disappeared. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned. “Little boy.” she said, then louder. “Jesse?” And frowned in disbelief, it was at least One hundred yards to the nearest tree line. “Where are you?”

  “Here I am!”

  Poppy spun on her heals and now he was right behind her, halfway to the fisherman carrying his tackle to the river. “How did you do that?”

  A broad grin spread across his face and he burst out laughing.

  If Butterflies could think, and there’s no reason why they shouldn’t, this one might be wondering why that girl was stood in the middle of a field talking to herself. But he was actually thinking about food and a female, in no particular order.

  The remainder of the summer holidays passed in a blur as one lazy, hot day melted seamlessly into the next. Poppy hung out with Jesse mostly and managed to stay out of trouble, well, trouble that her mum found out about anyway. The remaining packing cases and furniture arrived from London and the house was starting to look and feel like a home.

  Happiness is said to be the most fragile of conditions, and more often than not is brought to ruins by the most innocuous of events. The dreaded words had been said, the ones no child ever wants to hear and happiness instantly becomes just a distant memory. Poppy pretended she hadn’t heard. Her heart sank as the full implications of those words etched themselves so painfully onto her brain that she couldn’t help but wince and pull a face. “What did you say mum, the TV‘s a bit loud.”

  “You heard!” she said with a smile and took a sip of her tea. “We need to go for your school uniform tomorrow, so don’t do one of your disappearing acts.” Then wondered how long she’d last at this school.

  Poppy turned the volume up on the remote. “Can’t hear a word you’re saying mum, not one single word, tell me later.”

  She noticed Jesse through the window, standing by the fence. He always appeared so sad even when they were playing games or having fun. Poppy often wondered why he wouldn’t invite her to his house, but never said anything. She guessed he was waiting for her and went out.

  “You’ve got to come.” He said and began to run slowly down the road.

  Poppy ran after him. “Wait up. What’s going on? Where are we going?”

  “They want to see you.” He whispered looking around suspiciously for anyone who may be listening.

  “Who wants to see me?”

  “They do.”

  “Look. If you’re taking me to those horrible kids, I’m not interested.” She said and stopped dead in her tracks.

  “It’s the…Goyles!”

  “What…? Wants to see me…Why?”

  “The Goyles want to see you.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “The Goyles have asked for you Poppy.”

  “A Goyle!” she asked. “What on earth is a Goyle?”

  Jesse seemed to struggle for a sensible answer. “A Goyle is a, well it’s… It’s a! It’s better if you just see them for yourself.” Then he grinned nervously and swallowed hard.

  Poppy rolled her eyes, folded her arms and breathed out deeply, venting her impatience. “Ok, let’s go then.”

  Jess led the way and stopped at the same gap that Poppy had gone through when she was running away from those kids’ weeks before. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

  “Whatever! Can you hurry up? I’m grounded remember.”

  “You must never tell a soul what you’re about to see. Do you promise?” he put his hand over his heart and waited for an answer. “Do you promise?”

  “Yes, get on with it will you?” she looked at her watch. If her mum noticed she was out she’d be grounded till Christmas.

  Jess shoved his head through the gap.” Clear.” he whispered then ran over to the church.

  Seconds later she was crouching beside him.” What now?”

  “We have to wait.”

  “This is boring, I’m going home.”

  Jess stopped her and pointed towards the close horizon where the tree tops met the sky. ” It’s time, look”

  Poppy watched in awe as the now red glowing sun began to dip behind the darkening trees. She hadn’t notice Jess move but suddenly he was beckoning her from an open door at the base of the bell tower. “Come on!”

  The stone staircase wound up to the right, twisting three times before they came to an oak door. Jess knocked several times before it swung open of its own accord. Suddenly, Poppy was afraid of what may be inside, she licked her dry lips and swallowed hard. If this was a trick she’d never forgive jess.

  “You go first Poppy! It’s you they want to meet.”

  Gingerly, she placed one foot in the room and peered inside, it was completely empty. “If this is a game it’s rubbish.” she said and turned to leave.

  “Look again little one.”

  The voice made Poppy jump. “Who said that?” she asked looking at Jesse, who was now wide eyed and smiling broadly. Slowly she turned back to face the voice.

  Where seconds ago there had been nothing, now there was old furniture, a tatty rug and portraits on the wall. Pictures of posing, smiling monsters and a coal fire burning in the grate above which hung a large pan of bubbling water. Poppy briefly hesitated, swallowed hard again and then tentatively stepped inside.

  “Don’t be afraid, you won’t be harmed.” The voice had no physical presence but was hoarse and sounded gravelly.

  Poppy wanted to run, but she just couldn’t. “I can’t see you.” She wasn’t even sure that she wasn’t dreaming, it was hard to tel
l. Those nightmares, the ones she could never remember must have been something like this.

  “Look closer.” Jess smiled reassuringly. “Look closer.” he whispered.

  This was a nightmare, it had to be. Poppy took another step into the room; it was gloomy and stank like an old damp cellar. She focused on the settee and noticed that it was well worn and ripped on the arm and back. “Who’s there? I can’t see you.” she wanted to run home and cry on her mums lap like she did when she was small. “Where are you?”

  “Look closer dear.” this time it was another voice. Just like the other one but somehow feminine. “Don’t be scared little one.”

  Poppy moved into the room and as she did so caught a glimpse of movement above her. As she looked up she let out an involuntary scream and covered her mouth in horror. For there perched on the rafters were the ugliest, most terrifying creatures she had ever imagined could exist.

  She was rooted to the spot with terror as the two larger Goyles scurried down the wall. “Gulp Rottenoffle. You can call me Gulp.” The larger of the two said as he approached and held out a bony misshapen hand. “This is my beautiful wife; Putrid Rottenoffle. You just call her Putrid, she’s a bit whiffy but you’ll get used to it.”

  Poppy gingerly shook one of his fingers. “You… You can speak?” She said and tried to smile with little success. Indescribable ugliness is by its very nature indescribable. But these creatures were absolutely obscenely grotesque. The one calling himself ‘Gulp Rottenoffle’ was no more than four feet tall with a huge pot belly that bounced on the floor as he walked. He had bony, muscular limbs and a round fat head with no neck to speak of. A small spiky tuft of hair split his oversized ragged ears and it was hard to tell where the warts stopped and his nose started. His piercing eyes where bulbous with thick, hairy eyebrows and heavy looking eyelids. Few of his teeth remained and the ones that did were mostly broken. His skin was a greyish color and flecked with browns and what looked like green moss and patches of Lichen.