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Flashes II

Page 2

by Mary Maclaren


  "You can't do that," Mother Ewe answered with a worried baaa! "Flossie will round you up. Don't be naughty."

  Baby Bella kicked up her back legs and tossed her head. "I'm not afraid of Flossie. Nothing and no-one can keep me locked in."

  With that, she skipped and scampered across the field and jumped in the air with delight. "I'm free! I'm free!" Her tiny bleat echoed around the field, and all the other lambs looked nervously at her.

  "She'll be alright," nodded Mother Ewe. "She can't get faaaaaar!"

  Baby Bella skipped, scampered and bleated all the way across the field, then came to a sudden halt. Two rows of cold grey steel fencing barred her way. "You can't keep me in!" she scolded. "I'll go this way, instead."

  But everywhere she scampered, that cold grey wire glowered at her. Then Flossie was behind her, and Baby Bella had no choice but to rejoin Mother Ewe and all the other sheep.

  She found the enclosure had the same grey wire all around and she tried to chew it away, to no avail. "But Maaaaa," she bleated, "I said nothing could fence me in."

  And the moral of this story is... The hardest things to chew are your own words!

  ****

  "Yesterday is History; Tomorrow is a Mystery, Today is the present you should open and enjoy.” MM

  JAPANESE POETRY

  HAIKU

  warm night starry skies

  secret lovers realise

  they own the bright moon

  ****

 

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born in 1933 in London, the author migrated to Australia in 1963. She lived there until 2009, then returned to the United Kingdom to be near her family. Her work has been published in various popular magazines, such as Women’s Weekly; Women’s Day; etc., and won many writing competitions.

  She has published several books - “Different Hats” "Tea Break" "Another Tea Break" "Yet Another Tea Break" (in Australia and now out of print)

  “The Four Elizabeths” (published 2011ESBN 978-4568-5372-3) and the sequel “Elizabeth’s New Life”.(published 2012 ESBN 978-1-4653-5174-9 ) both in UK

  Available from the author, email: marym224@live.co.uk

  *#*#*#*

  Following are EXTRACTS from my two books .

  THE FOUR ELIZABETHS

  (The original story)

  Elizabeth Powley was the daughter of a prostitute and an unknown punter. She was fifteen when her mother died and already a well-known girl of the streets herself. For the following nine years, she lived by her wits with a toughness bred by necessity. Never known to converse in less than a snarl she was, in this year of 1787, one of London's harlots, caring for no one and nothing apart from where her next meal would be eaten. And the size of that meal depended entirely on her success in flaunting her grimy temptations.

  She was raw-boned and had tobacco coloured hair that hung almost to her waist in unwashed disarray. But it was her lynx-eyed gaze that commanded instant attention from those who passed her. Once noted, her eyes were never forgotten and this made her an easy target for 'clients'. Other street women loathed her. In their usual style, they would rub themselves seductively against the dallying men, and it was tantamount to a bucket of freezing water tossed from the filthy rooms above for those women to be pushed aside and told, "I'm looking for that tall one with the green eyes."

  and further into the first book:

  "Who's that woman with a baby?" he thundered. "We have no papers for a convict's child, do we?" His aide studied the list and shook his head. "Well, it's not coming on board here. On shore with it!"

  There was a stunned silence and on its heels came an incredulous fury. Screams that released the fears, despair and aggravating futility of their situation emanated from the throats of women and whores alike. Screams that pierced like shards of glass, almost deafening the crewmen and dockside labour.

  "Oh, God in His merciful Heaven," appealed Amy Thompson, bursting into tears.

  "You bastards!" shouted another woman. "You'd be too bleedin' evil to have kids of your own!" Her words were cut short by a savage blow to her stomach and she crumpled to the deck.

  The loudest screams came from Susannah when a seaman approached and tore little Henry from her arms. "God in Heaven, No...no! My baby... oh, my God...Henry! My baby..." Her agonised cries brought the women to tears and the manacled men looked away, their helplessness weighing far more heavily than their bonds.

  ELIZABETH'S NEW LIFE

  (The Sequel)

  HMS Friendship was strangely quiet after the women had been transferred to different ships. Like children who’d had their toys removed for misbehavior, the men became introverted and an uneasy silence prevailed. Officers and men stood around in groups or sat quietly talking amongst themselves, and most of the convicts went back to their prison berths. Only two remained talking at the side of the ship and straining against the sun to see any signs of movement over on HMS Charlotte. “It’s a waste of time, Henry,” said Lovell. “They’ll have all the women stowed below decks by this time.”

  (later in the story)

  The goats bleating their objections to being roughly man-handled was even more raucous than the sheep’s noise and Faddy clasped his hands to his ears. “Good Lord,” he said. “It’s not going to be like this all the time, surely?”

  Clark nodded mournfully. “Probably.” He suddenly pointed to the side of the ship where the animals were being loaded and groaned loudly. “Oh, no! Pigs!”

  Being a good deal heavier than the sheep or goats, the crew had tied strong ropes around the pigs and they were being hauled aboard with the help of the Bosun’s chair tackle. Once over the gunwale, the ropes were untied and several soldiers fell over in an effort to control the beasts. So smaller ropes were tied to the pig’s necks and their strident squeals as they were lugged over to the hatchway brought on louder cursing from the soldiers. There were two pigs and the smaller one as pushed unceremoniously down the plank. The soldier below was unprepared for the weight of the animal and once more collapsed under it.

  (later in the story)

  Elizabeth watched as the first soldier was tied to the tree trunk, his chest pulled hard against the bark so that he could not rebound from the lashes. Two burly men were given whips, one was lefthanded so that the strokes could be applied in turn quicker. They flexed their muscles and watched Major Ross keenly for the signal to proceed.

  His head nodded and the air resounded with the thud of the leather whips on the man's bare back and his screams were chilling. Elizabeth turned away from the gruesome sight as shards of bloodied flesh flew. One landed on Lewis's face and he dashed it away before vomiting on the ground. Henry Lovell merely glanced at his workmate, knowing that Ross was watching every reaction from the crowd. He could not be convinced that such spectacles were not the best way of communicating with the convicts.The second soldier received the same treatment, but the third took his punishment without a sound. The group of surgeons who were standing by to take each man to the hospital building as he was untied from the tree, included Thomas Arndell. He was overwhelmed by the man's silence which seemed to have more affect on the people gathered than the previous floggings. As he was tied to the tree, the guilty soldier had said calmly but clearly, “Strike me fair, lads. Don't whip my neck.” He was obviously aware of the terrible damage that could be inflicted if the whip landed so close to the brain. Nevertheless, the sight of his back being torn by the lashes and his knees sagging slightly as the punishment continued, was another torture for those who watched.

  ****

  For more information about these two stories, email the author:marym224@live.co.uk or ring 01162599346

  Thank you for reading!

 
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