Sir Ian Peters

by Kevin P Pearson

  Chapter 8

  On the last Saturday of Ian’s third month it appeared he’d broken a promise for the first time. I had him swear resolutely when I agreed to take him on that moonlight trek, that he’d have to give me at least one day a week off. The day I’d chosen was Saturday. I’ve alluded as to the reasons for this earlier. Not only was Saturday my only day free from work, lately Edward’s barrage of warfare operations which stepped up a notch on weekends had ceased.

  Edward had discovered the existence of a hitherto unknown group of Homo sapiens called females, and was currently romantically involved with a sensible girl from school. On hearing this delightful news I decided it was prudent to stop reading his war journals.

  I remember enjoying the liberating freedom of an extremely entertaining dream, travelling over vast mountain ranges eerily lit with most peculiar shades of blue and green. Curious low humming noises emanated from everywhere at once. Beauty and scale of it all was truly staggering. As I approached luscious valleys nestled below, the striking scene was interrupted by a curious far off whispering, numerous exaggerated coughs and an annoying tapping, a rustling, then the sharp thud of a solid object colliding loudly with my dresser. I awoke instantly, feeling none too happy about it. “I’m not talking to you. You swore an oath,” I said angrily.

  “An oath I think you’ll find which hasn’t been broken,” came the excitable return.

  “I can see, I have eyes. It’s half past eleven, Saturday night. Now please go away.”

  “Sam, it’s actually one half hour past twelve. What does that prove young man?”

  “It proves that you’ve tampered with honest peoples clocks. A shameful pastime and no mistake.”

  “It proves no such thing, my dear young fellow!” was his cheerful response. “It proves that you’ve forgotten to put your clock forward by one hour, as is the strange custom you English folk like to indulge in.” Of course, yet again, Ian was quite correct.

  “Right again, oh lord and master,” I grumbled.

  “Sam, don’t be so blasé about other’s feelings.”

  “Alright, but is there really any need to be so dreadfully loud about it? And at this time of the morning as well?”

  “I’m really so dreadfully sorry Sam.” I wasn’t quite awake enough to work out whether he was being sarcastic or not. “Who knows, perhaps there wasn’t. But I’m celebrating. I’m already well underway with my task.”

  “Oh, so you do actually have a task then? I mean besides driving me insane, keeping me awake, causing no end of trouble. Can’t you leave me in peace, to relax and dream just this once? Everyone is entitled to some privacy, surely?”

  “Soon Sam, I promise. And of course I have a task. Did you honestly believe I exist purely to keep you amused?”

  “Well if you really do have a mission, why not at least hint at the details?”

  “Shan’t!”

  “Why on earth not?”

  “Because you might tell!”

  “You really are nothing less than a little child!”

  “Not strictly true. For I’ve long since passed my five hundredth year. And besides, I don’t make all the decisions. I have literally thousands of intricate jobs to perform. No small number of these need to be performed simultaneously, with meticulous attention to detail. I have to think on my feet and maintain the finest of balances you know. Who knows, this could prove to be my finest hour. In the great scheme of things your case is the smallest of side quests. I simply found myself strangely drawn to your soul, and as I passed decided to tarry a while on a whim.”

  I sensed an unusual opportunity. “Strictly speaking, you’re not in charge then? You’ll forgive me if I say how much that idea gratifies me.”

  “Well, young Sam. Broadly speaking, in terms of my positioning relative to mankind, I am as near the boss as makes no difference. It should be painfully obvious by now I’m the cleverest being on this planet, bar none. However, as you well know I don’t like to boast!”

  “Yes, I noticed that.”

  “And the very notion of one creature being arbitrarily placed higher than another in importance makes my spirit turn slightly risible.”

  “Quite right too! But are you really five hundred years old?”

  “Of course, why would I lie? I do sometimes feel a little older. Certain forms, places, people, certain experiences seem to produce that curious effect. But of course, and I’m positive I’ve told you this far too many times before - the fact is that time is essentially an entirely human concept. It is constructed for humans, by humans, purely in order to satisfy their insatiable appetites for imposing order and structure on what they regard as a wild, untamed world. As far as me and my friends are concerned, time simply does not exist. Any notion to the contrary shows just how little you as a civilisation have progressed since your recent conception, despite marked evidence and blatant clues suggesting this be so.”

  “I would be correct in inferring that you are not a subscriber to the works of good Charles Darwin then?”

  “Pah! Really Sam!” he snorted. “‘Good Charles Darwin?!’ It takes fractions of milliseconds to reject such a ridiculous theorem.”

  “Yes, I think I get the general idea now thanks,” I said, trying to draw the conversation towards other possible revelations. Ian was far cleverer than that though, so I considered it best to let him express himself as he saw fit. After all, he was clearly caught up in one of his long rants. Perhaps this was a speech he’d wanted to air with humans for quite some time? I also hoped that allowing him free reign may help me save up a little more sleep time in the future.

  “So, this successfully brings me to my next point of interest. How absurd, how blinkered, how single minded to intimate animals and humans alike share the same ancestry? He should have spent more time on research and deep philosophical thought, rather than concentrating on growing silly little beards. I haven’t actually read the book in question of course, but have been given the gist of it. Small minded Darwin does demonstrate a rather dull schoolboy form of reasoning for a minuscule percentage of time, though only vague smatterings of half truths are contained in his works.”

  “Ian, it has always been impressed upon me never to indulge in ridiculing folk just because they happen to have been born less intelligent than you.”

  “I am not ridiculing him. I’m just pointing out some fixed, basic, fundamental facts,” Ian replied indignantly, then set off raising countless other interesting points to bolster his revelation. Strangely many were questions I’d pondered on much since his arrival, when I’d been forced to concede our world was vastly different than I’d imagined. Ian confirmed there were millions of forms and substances existing all around us, always. Sometimes strange out of place scents were a clue. Like a dog may carry fleas these unseen inhabitants often brought other substances along with them. We rarely saw these beings because the human brain filtered them out in order to allow us to function normally without too many distractions. He called this effect ‘nature’s nanny.’ My eyes had been opened to the tiniest fraction of these events during our moonlit walk. On rare occasions certain people could catch brief glimpses of the world as it truly was via deep mediation, rare drugs or vivid dreams.

  Dogs can literally see smells, lions can communicate outside our range of hearing and most other animals can see far more colours than humans such as infra red and ultra violet light. In many ways the universe made children of humans. Not only is the universe stranger than you imagine, it is also stranger than you can imagine.

  Ian talked of the strange black mist caught out of the very corner of the eye, which vanishes when one looks directly at it and how sometimes personal items can be found in the very same place a person left them, minutes or years later. He advised me to work on my instincts more, especially when sometimes one can feel another person staring at them.

  Ian swore Homo sapiens were not the product of natural evolution as the earth wasn’t old enough,
but annoyingly refused to divulge anymore, because to hear and to understand were two entirely different things. For once he explained without being patronising, that if I was a rocket scientist and had to teach to a toddler how to create one, I’d have great difficulty.

  “Thanks for sharing Ian,” I said cheekily. He warned me of his beautiful singing voice and claimed King George the Fifth had recently knighted him. Apparently the grumpy old man didn’t have much choice in the matter, because honours seemed to be given out for bringing the washing in or remembering your own name when drunk. So from now on I had to address him as Sir or face the consequences. I was then admonished for deliberately keeping him up all night, which was a frightfully wicked thing to do. He ignored the fact he’d told me he never slept when away from home.

  Seeing as he was being unusually forthcoming I asked him of God and the afterlife. He said there was a God as such, but the being was neither male or female, there were numerous beings which had an awful lot of work to do, considering humans were only a fraction of sentient beings in the universe. That was why there were a lot more gods than we imagined. Heaven as we deemed it did exist, but was a different experience for each soul. Like spirits tended to be drawn to like. In this way it would be possible to meet old friends and ancient ancestors, depending on their life choices and true spirit. The longer he talked the softer his voice became, till it was naught but a faint whisper.

  “I can see much of the future Sam. Humans are especially easy, it’s one of my gifts and I’m unchained by such ridiculous concepts as time. You worry about your father a lot, despite trying to hide it. His illness will pass. Save your energy as he’ll reach a century. You will exceed this by seven years as long as you follow my advice. Never lose your selflessness for one and never entertain foolish notions of wealth and power, that is not how your life works to your advantage. Your father’s long lifespan seems natural, whereas yours has been extended by my close presence at such a young age. A by product if you will.”

  It was then Ian gave me two signs to look out for way into the future to prove the truth of his statements. First was simple: A blue horse! Second - the arrival in early 1997 of a gaseous comet of colossal proportions that would storm across the sky. In my final year before I passed to the next life he promised to return with my parents as final proof. I solemnly promised not to divulge these events until then.

  I wondered whether his predictions were wise. After all, surely there are strict reasons why man should never know his future? Wouldn’t Ian get into some sort of trouble for this? His guarded reply was vague and slightly suspicious.

  “Sam, perhaps I should have been slightly stricter with myself. Yet whilst I have certain guidelines, I’m largely free to bring about a successful conclusion in any way I see fit. Even if these transgressions were to be uncovered, it’s unlikely I’d be admonished to any great degree.”

  “Perchance it is frowned upon?”

  “I fancy I may lose certain liberties, certain considerations for a time. Depending on the body who, or hopefully if they discover this, um, oversight, they may well choose to look kindly on me, with respect to the large body of work I’ve been deeply involved with in the past.”

  “You’re not supposed to be talking to me at all are you?” I said loudly, perhaps a little bit too triumphantly, especially considering how open he’d been over the past few hours.

  “I mean, besides that, you’re not even supposed to be here, on this planet, in this particular period!”

  “I have to admit, your deductions are quite correct. However, given agreeable circumstances and provided with the necessary arrangements, I think I could exonerate myself in due course!” he announced, quickly adding, “I’ve just remembered something, something really rather important. It’s truly desperate, it really can’t wait. We’ll have to leave it there for the present.” I was left only with, “See you later, Sherlock!” and other such low mutterings, including, “Time flies, the devil, idle hands, and other oft used clichés.

  Very early next morning at the rising of the sun, I was greeted at the breakfast table by the inquiring eyes of father, who carefully watched my slow, tired progress as I worked my way round the kitchen, eventually taking a seat.

  “Sam,” he said slowly and suggestively, “Mother tells me she thought she heard you talking in the early hours. I heard nothing. As you well know sleeping is one of my favourite hobbies. I happen to be very good at it, your mother will attest to that in an instant. If you wish to take lessons from me, I will be most pleased to oblige. I was born a natural I believe. A fact that seems to cause your mother no end of consternation, I might add,” he said, chuckling conspiratorially.

  “Sorry Father, I was practising a rather important speech for work. I must confess I lost track of time.”

  “Oh, a speech eh?” he nodded slowly. “Well in that case, let’s say no more about it. The last thing I want written in my eulogy is any mention of me failing to help my son attain his ambitions!” he laughed, winking. I despised lying to him, but was faced with very little alternative. A strange silence swept over the room. Father glanced at me out of the very corner of his eye. He seemed to be giving a situation an awful lot of thought.

  “You know my elder brother David once told me a rather revealing tale. I believe he was twenty five at the time and had the curious habit of knowing other peoples affairs, though he didn’t warrant a reputation as an eavesdropper. I must admit I couldn’t make head nor tail of it myself and have berated myself over the years for not thinking deeper on his words earlier. I can only think that at the time I couldn’t be truly sure he wasn’t joking, despite his telling habit of constantly repeating an amusing tale over the years, or being unable to keep his lips together at the end of it.

  David said: ‘I have not been sleeping very well these past few weeks, so yesterday I devised a fiendish plan to find out why. Telling myself I needed some bread, I sent myself up to old man Fordacres bakery. Whilst I was away I climbed into the loft and drilled a little hole through the ceiling above my bed, cleverly managing to clean all the mess up before I got back. The idea was that when I went to bed last night I would get into the attic and watch to see why I wasn’t sleeping. At about ten thirty I told myself to make a nice cup of tea and whilst I was doing this I sneaked into the loft and carefully positioned myself over the hole to watch for anything that happened on the bed below. Well I stayed there until nine am this morning and nothing happened. I did not even go to bed. I’m positive I didn’t fall asleep and miss myself retiring. When I got out of the loft and went downstairs, what do you know? There I was sitting having my breakfast. I didn’t say anything as I did not want to let anyone know that I was spying on myself. But I’m sure to catch myself tonight. I’m certain I must have gone out fishing or to an all night party, so this evening just before I go out to the toilet, I shall sneak outside and hide behind the wall and when I come out I will follow myself. Will keep you informed about what we both got up to.’ He never did though. I don’t quite know why. You know now the particular area that I am referring to Sam?”

  “I think so.”

  “It’s nothing to be afraid of. Although at first it certainly takes some getting used to. Different people obviously have greatly differing talents. I couldn’t dream of attempting any of the feats David’s achieved, and vice versa. It’s all about relaxing he said, and when I think about it, he was absolutely right. The only real barrier seems to be yourself, your own thoughts and insecurities. These ideas come together in an attempt to muddle your brain which has been heavily conditioned over time by society. I’ve noticed that you never seem to get any further in your efforts unless you take your time to take in all surroundings and learn from them. There’s no need to rush. Why would you want to anyway? What would be the point of it all? Real excitement comes from savouring the moment and carefully planning your next move. I think you’ll agree it would be sheer folly to jump into the deepest part of the river if you were
a weak swimmer. Call me incredibly patronizing, only it’s clearly far more sensible to stay in the shallows for the time being, at least till you build up a little more confidence and strength. Now, if you consider the case of...”

  At that point sounds of mother rising in the room above prior to descending the staircase silenced his thoughts.

  “We can discuss this further later. Don’t mention this to your mother. I hinted at it once when we first met. I honestly thought she was going to call the local priest there and then and beg him to perform an exorcism. Unfortunately some folk are like that. It seems to take a lot out of them mentally to accept the reality of the esoteric. All thoughts of such are locked away in a large chest and buried in the cellar, nearest Satan where they belong. I did try to explain to her I was only guilty of subtly influencing my dreams, but I fear that only made things worse.”

  Father left it at that, strangely never discussing it again. Curiously the situation never seemed quite right to broach the subject, though this enlightening tale was enough encouragement to continue my nocturnal studies. From that point on my weak dreaming skills slowly increased. Incidentally, not once before Ian’s arrival was I aware I possessed any personal skills in this area.

  Yes, I had dreams much the same as other folk, but they were bizarre in nature, uncontrollable, brief and unremarkable. Without doubt it was Ian’s presence that prompted these changes. Consequently, at length I was able to perfect distinct changes in certain dream states, on rare occasions almost at will. There was one particular recurring dream which eluded me, one which didn’t change, no matter how powerful the influence borne upon it.

  At times when I felt I was truly ready for it and attempted to will it into existence, it steadfastly refused to materialize, staying frustratingly out of reach at the very peripherals of my vision. When furthest from my mind, it would dissolve into being, taking divine precedence, super imposing its distracting, haunting presence over anything and everything. I knew I’d been there before many times, paradoxically even in my infancy, before the first bewildering visit.

  Each time I saw it slightly more distinct than the last. After fifty years, rather foolishly I feel I now know the real reason why. We are not and cannot ever hope to be masters of all we survey, no matter how accomplished we become or how deeply we dare to dream. There lie situations which for very good reasons are far beyond man’s corrupting influence. I guessed father knew these places. He knew them very well. He knew their true purpose. I feel confident I now know this too.