Child of the Gryphon

by David Lugsden

  At times Gabriel sometimes thought that he might actually be going crazy; after all, how could something be there one minute and then vanish within the blink of an eye? But no, it wasn’t that when people looked he was seeing the creature and they were unable to, whatever it was had indeed disappeared. He also considered lying to his friends that yes, he had just made the whole thing up for a stupid joke or something. He also thought about agreeing that maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, even though he knew otherwise. Perhaps he could simply ignore the stupid thing and it would eventually just leave him alone and everything would go back to normal. He pondered this possibility as he walked through the lounge and into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of orange juice from the fridge.

  His dad was sat in his favourite armchair in the lounge watching a show on television about the new Prime Minister. Although politics was just about the dullest thing imaginable, as Gabriel guzzled his juice, he couldn’t help but overhear snippets of information about England’s recently elected new leader, Joseph Silvermane. The commentator was reporting that the ex-Special Forces operative had fought in the Gulf War and in Afghanistan. Gabriel remembered seeing pictures of Silvermane just after he had won the election: a muscular goliath that, had he not joined the army, would have been equally suited to being that of a heavyweight boxer or professional wrestler. Gabriel remembered one front page photograph of him in particular, the hard, square jawline and cold, black eyes had sent a shiver running down Gabriel’s back.

  ‘The no-good thug!’ Alan Millar was saying. ‘Whoever voted for him must have been barking mad! They’ll regret it, you mark my words!’

  In the kitchen, Gabriel’s mum was busy preparing dinner. The Millar’s were somewhat regimented in their eating habits; each night of the week was dedicated to a different dish. Thursday night meant fish pie night. But Gabriel never objected, in fact he liked the regularity of it. Despite the odd minor catastrophe in the kitchen (one time she accidentally set the sausages on fire, another night she broke from routine to make a curry which had been so spicy that Gabriel had thought his tongue was melting), his mum was generally a good cook. Knowing what he was going to have for dinner, whether it be a roast chicken dinner, spaghetti Bolognese or stew and dumplings was sometimes a good incentive to help Gabriel put up with some of the drearier days at school.

  ‘Now don’t go drinking all of that juice, Mister. That’s the last carton, you know!’ Nancy Millar informed her son.

  ‘I won’t. There’s loads left... well, enough,’ Gabriel replied.

  ‘I don’t know where you put it sometimes, I really don’t. You can’t still be fuelling this growth spurt, surely! I tell you, if you don’t stop growing soon, you’re going to have to start ducking as you walk through doors!’

  ‘Ha. Ha. Very funny, mum.’

  ‘You know I’m only teasing. How’s school? I haven’t seen Ashley waiting for you in the mornings lately. Is everything alright between you boys?’

  Gabriel hesitated, ‘It’s nothing really, don’t worry about it.’

  Nancy said, ‘I do worry. You two have been friends for donkey’s years. I’d hate to see you fall out now. What’s the problem?’

  ‘Well it all started when I... well, when...’ Gabriel stammered.

  ‘When you started seeing the fairy?’

  ‘When you say it like that it sounds so stupid.’

  ‘I didn’t say it like anything. You know your father and I believe you saw what you saw. But you can understand why other people might have trouble believing such a thing. Your friends are different though: you’ve never lied to them before so they’ve no reason not to believe you now. Why don’t you just try to sit down and talk it through with them? And if that fails... well, you can and will always make new friends. But the important thing is that you mustn’t lie to yourself. Don’t try and pretend you’re not seeing something when you really are.’

  Gabriel was gobsmacked, ‘I was just... how did you know I’d been considering that?’

  Nancy playfully patted her son on the cheek. ‘Mother’s intuition, sunshine. We always know what our children are up to and are thinking. It’s how we keep you out of trouble! Now go and tell your dad to stop cursing at the television. Dinner’s ready.’

  ***

  The next day, Gabriel got up half an hour earlier than usual which astonished his parents to no end. When he strolled into the kitchen already dressed and ready for school, Alan Millar almost choked on his coffee in surprise. However when Gabriel informed them of his plan, they both beamed with pride at their son. Gabriel gobbled down his breakfast, stuffed his school books into his bag and raced out of the house with the waves and calls of ‘Good luck!’ from his parents following him.

  For years Ashley had always waited patiently at the end of the Millar’s driveway every morning before school (with the exception of the previous week). This morning, however, things would be different. Following his mother’s advice and intent on trying to salvage their friendship, Gabriel set off for Ashley’s house, even though it was at least a ten minute walk in the opposite direction from school.

  Arriving at number twelve Oak Tree Drive, Gabriel stared up at the front bedroom window of the small, red-brick, terraced house, hoping that Ashley had not already set off. The beige and white striped curtains of the front downstairs window remained drawn. Gabriel knew that this was commonplace for Ashley’s mother as she had a mild paranoia about burglars walking past the house and looking in. She would only pull them back after nine o’clock, when she knew all the local schools had started. She was often heard complaining, ‘You just can’t trust some of these young scallywags nowadays.’ By three o’clock in the afternoon, the curtains would be closed again. Ashley’s father would half-jokingly grumble that they spent a fortune on lighting, despite the blazing sunshine outside, but never protested seriously, realising that this was just one of his wife’s minor foibles.

  Gabriel perched on the wall at the end of the small, cluttered front garden and awaited his friend. A few minutes later Gabriel heard a muffled stamping and banging from behind the front door as Ashley pulled on his shoes and tossed his bag over his shoulder. The door opened with a slight creak of hinges in need of some oil, there were shouts of ‘Goodbye, see you this afternoon!’ between Ashley and his mother which echoed out of the house. The door slammed shut and all of a sudden Ashley was standing there staring at Gabriel across the messy, dry flowerbeds.

  ‘What do you want?’ Ashley said, with no hint of friendliness in his voice.

  ‘I figured it was well overdue to be my turn to meet you-’

  ‘What do you want?’ Ashley repeated with a hint of annoyance.

  ‘Look Ash,’ Gabriel began, ‘I‘ve come to make amends with you. I’m really sorry I got you in trouble and I’m also sorry I’ve been going on and on about seeing a fairy all this time.’

  ‘So are you now saying you didn’t see one?’

  ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying. I know what I’ve seen, but I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. If that means I just don’t mention it around you guys anymore-’

  ‘So you still think you’re seeing fairies?’

  ‘No, not fairies just fairy. There was only ever one.’

  ‘I can’t believe this! You’re still insisting you saw a fairy!’ Ashley started out of the garden gate but Gabriel stepped in front of him. ‘Get out of my way!’ Ashley barked.

  ‘No. Not until you listen to me,’ Gabriel said. ‘Look we’ve been friends forever and always stuck by each other. I know what I saw and I’m going to stick by that. Religious people believe in gods and stuff and they’ve never seen them!’

  ‘That’s hardly the same and you know it,’ Ashley argued. ‘You’re asking me to believe in fairies? What next, mermaids? Or dragons?’

  ‘The only thing I’m asking you to believe in is me. Your friend. Or at least I thought I was.’

  Ashley’s anger faltered and then ever so slowly began to crumble.
His posture relaxed and he let out a deep sigh, ‘Gabe, mate, I know you’re not a liar and all but, I mean... fairies? It’s a bit hard to believe and all. I- we – me and Jess – didn’t know what to think. We weren’t sure whether it was some stupid wind up that you took too far... or that you were going mental or something.’

  ‘Why do you think I was trying so hard all this time to get someone else to see it? I saw it and I still can’t believe it!’

  ‘OK look, mate, I guess I believe you saw something – I mean you’ve been harping on about it long enough! But I’m still having trouble believing it was a fairy.’

  ‘Good enough. Now can we just drop this whole thing and get to school before Walters puts us in detention all summer?’

  ‘Forget Walters, we’re five minutes late in meeting Jess – she’s much scarier when she’s kept waiting!’

  The two reunited friends hurried off. As they turned onto Kettering Avenue, they could see Jessica, halfway down the road, standing outside her garden gate, arms folded, foot tapping. Although they couldn’t see her face clearly, they knew that she would be wearing a look of thunder. If there was one thing that could rival or exceed the fear instilled in them by even the scariest of teachers at school, it was Jessica Banks in a bad mood. At its fiercest, her temper was something that even Leon Grant had learnt not to mess with. When she wanted to, Jessica had a lethally sharp tongue that could silence almost anyone. The two boys suspected she had developed this talent out of necessity having grown up with two older brothers. Both brothers were only just over a year apart in age and had left home to go to university nearly six and seven years ago, respectively. Jessica, the youngest, had been a bit of a surprise to her parents when she came along several years after her brothers.

  Since their departure, Jessica had become much more relaxed and calm, as well as disorganised. It wasn’t that Jessica was a nasty person, far from it in fact. On the whole she was one of the nicest, well-mannered and composed people the boys knew. She was always polite to her elders and kind towards her friends nor did she ever make waves or cause trouble in school. It was only when she strongly objected to something or witnessed injustice directed at someone she held dear, that her fearsome temper would emerge. Apparently being kept waiting also needed to be included on that list.

  Fortunately for the two boys, when Jessica saw them both together, her bad mood quickly dissipated and soon the three friends were once again as close as they had ever been. Their joint relief at putting the whole ugly situation behind them could not even be tarnished by Grant and his cronies and their taunts that they had all ‘kissed and made up’ and were all ‘happy little elves once again.’

  The day flew by and before the trio of friends knew it they were on their way home again. When they arrived back at Jessica’s house she invited them all inside. After a while they retired to the back garden where they lay on the finely trimmed grass of the expansive lawn, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. The late afternoon sun was gloriously warm as it beat down on their faces.

  Mrs Banks was an incredibly house proud woman and in between vacuuming her house for the third time that day, she brought each of them an ice-cold glass of homemade lemonade. Lying there on their backs they inhaled the delicate fragrances, wafting gently on the late afternoon breeze, from the neatly arranged flower beds. The sound of ice cubes tinkling in their glasses serenaded them merrily. At that very moment, life could not have been better.

  Just before six o’clock Gabriel and Ashley picked themselves up and headed off home, greeting Mr Banks on the front path as he arrived home from work. At the corner of Rosewood Close the boys parted company and Gabriel slowly sauntered up the street to number seven. As the early evening sun had cooled slightly, but still sat high in the sky, it cast a heavenly orange glow over the quaint, little house. The ivy leaves growing up the walls of the house glistened as if made from thin slivers of gold. The large front windows blazed like solar panels. As Gabriel entered the driveway, he felt his mouth watering at the tantalising aromas of his mother’s cooking emanating from the kitchen. Friday night: beef stew and dumplings with pastry crust on the side, Gabriel’s favourite.

  It really was an amazing time to be alive.

  Little did he know, it was all about to change.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE END OF THE BEGINNING

  And so came the Saturday of the Summer Fête. Up until just over a week ago Gabriel had had no desire whatsoever to attend. Now once again reunited with Ashley and Jessica he was quite looking forward to it. He only hoped that he didn’t run into Leon Grant and his moronic cronies. Gabriel didn’t want any more taunts about fairies, elves and the like to put a dampener on the whole day.

  The Evanses, Bankses and Millars had all agreed to meet up at the Fête to enjoy the festivities together. As well as Ashley, Jessica and Gabriel all being friends, their parents were friendly with one another too and occasionally had evenings out together or held dinner parties at their homes.

  Similarly to previous years, in the week leading up to the Fête, the normal school timetable had been set aside in order for the students to assist with the preparations for the day. Walking through the school gates, Gabriel and his parents were greeted by the results of those efforts. Colourful bunting, painted banners and posters adorned every building of the school, streamers decorated every tree, the sweet whiff of homemade lemonade, fudge, cakes, fruit scones and candyfloss filled the air.

  People Gabriel knew were everywhere. In one quick scan of the crowd, he noticed students from the school, as well as teachers, parents and neighbours. Every year the Fête grew in popularity and more and more people attended. Even people from nearby towns drove in to enjoy the event. This year must be an all-time record turnout, Gabriel thought. The school grounds were literally swarming with faces young and old. Everywhere he looked people were taking part in the hoopla, hook-a-duck, darts and tin-can alley stalls, sifting through merchandise at the car-boot sale, sampling sweet and savoury treats or simply sunbathing on the school field.

  The family waded deeper into the crowd and Gabriel couldn’t help but get caught up in the atmosphere of good-natured fun and enjoyment. For the time being it was enough to make him forget that he had built up a reputation recently as “the boy that sees fairies.” Life was good.

  Over the effervescent chatter of the surrounding crowd, the sudden call of his mother made Gabriel jump.

  ‘Ooh look, Gabriel! I see Ashley and his mum and dad. Let’s all go over and see what they’re up to. Cooiee, Janet!’

  The Evanses were stood next to the raffle stall where Ashley’s mum was in a heated conversation with Mr Kittling the local butcher, who was in charge of one of the raffles. Mrs Evans’ thin lips were almost always pursed into a look of mild resentment or surprise, Gabriel could never figure out which. Quite a tall, stout lady with her dyed red hair always pulled back into a tight bun, she could not be more dissimilar in appearance to Ashley’s dad, Gerald, a short, skinny man with silvery grey hair, who was slowly massaging his temples.

  ‘Look, Mrs Evans, all of the tickets have got as much chance as the next. You can’t select the specific numbers you want. You pay your money and take the next available ticket stub,’ Mr Kittling was saying.

  ‘And you look, Mr Kittling. You don’t have to run this stall like a dictatorship! I’ll have you know that I have a good feeling about numbers zero-nine-eight-five, seven-six-two-three and four-one-zero-eight. They’re my lucky numbers you know.’

  ‘They’re not your lucky numbers! Your lucky number is six!’ Gerald Evans piped in and immediately regretted his decision.

  Janet Evans glared at her husband, ‘Oh, well that is just lovely isn’t it? You know, some husbands actually stick up for their wives! A fine example you’re setting for Ashley, embarrassing me in front of everyone like that! I have several lucky numbers for your information!’

  Looking sheepish, Mr Banks turned to his son, ‘Go on, give us a piece of that fud
ge would you, Ash? Maybe it’ll keep my big mouth glued shut for a while!’

  Mrs Banks was just about to say something else to her husband when Mr Kittling cut in, ‘OK, I’ll tell you what, just this once pick whatever numbers you want. Just, don’t go telling everyone I let you, will you?’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Kittling. You are a true gentleman,’ Janet Banks replied, staring icily at her husband out of the corners of her eyes. Gerald Banks simply shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his mouth full of fudge.

  ‘Erm... I’m sorry, is it a bad time Janet?’ Gabriel’s mum asked.

  ‘No, not at all! Whatever makes you think that? Lovely to see you again, Nancy! You too, Alan! Good heavens, Gabriel! Are you planning on getting any taller?’ Janet gushed.

  Gabriel, who even after all these years remained uncomfortable with the overbearing nature of Ashley’s mum, was lost for words. Luckily as always, Ashley came to his rescue, nudging him in the ribs.

  ‘Hey, mum, me and Gabe are going to go and find Jess. I think I saw her mum and dad setting up a table at the car-boot sale.’

  ‘Did you? I never saw them. Well I should like to go and have a look-see at what they’re selling. Would you like to come along Nancy?’ Mrs Evans said.

  Nancy Millar replied, ‘Absolutely. Lead the way, Janet.’

  The two women set off nattering animatedly, about local news and the latest gossip they’d picked up. Gerald Evans and Alan Millar followed closely behind, Mr Evans shaking his head and saying something that caused Gabriel’s dad to erupt with laughter.

  ‘Sorry about that, she can be so finicky about stuff sometimes, you know what she’s like with the curtains, don’t you?’ Ashley said as the two boys headed off in the opposite direction of their parents.