Twelve Down

by Tunbridge Wells Writers

  As Raggi called down instructions, Charlie took a moment to study his surroundings. He was sitting with his legs dangling through a hole in the middle of a small brick room. On one side there was a tiny sofa, a narrow bed and a stack of miniature books and on the other a stove, cooking pots, pans and a pantry full of goodies – everything was neat, tidy and stacked ready for collection. ‘Where does all that come from?’ he asked pointing at the food. ‘The geese bring all my supplies - gosh you humans never notice a thing! Take a look at what they’re carrying next time they fly overhead.’

  Billy was still standing at the fireplace and was beginning to blubber. ‘Don’t be a cissy, you will get the hang of it,’ Raggi called down as Billy huffed and puffed like a stream train. ‘Perhaps you should have brought the biscuit tin up with you Charlie - although I suspect Billy is rather more attached to it than you are! Billy - try breathing in, standing tall and crossing your legs,’ she yelled. ‘Sometimes that can work for the less streamlined amongst us,’ she mumbled. Almost before Raggi was able to finish her sentence Billy whizzed up the chimney in a cloud of green smoke and landed on the ledge next to Charlie.

  ‘Wooooohoooo, that was awesome!’ he exclaimed to no one in particular.

  They sat around the hole in the middle of Raggi’s room chatting, drinking tea and eating biscuits then as the grandfather clock struck two o’clock Billy’s eyelids started to droop.

  ‘Now it’s time you went back to bed. I want you to close your eyes and just think about sleep. Leave everything up to me. Okay so here we go, after three… … One, two… …’

  The boys woke the following morning to the sound of the doorbell ringing. As they rubbed their eyes they remembered that the Collector was coming. They leapt out of bed and ran downstairs to find an unusual looking man talking to their mother.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Carson. I’ve come to sweep the chimney and remove the unwanted contents. I believe the holiday letting agency informed you I was coming?’ said the shaky old voice.

  The Collector was a lean, stooping man with lank grey hair arranged like a limp pair of curtains around a thin angular face. His dark sunken eyes and pale complexion made him look like an extra from a zombie movie.

  ‘Yes, yes of course Mr O’Brian,’ their mother exclaimed eagerly. ‘I believe the chimney you are looking for is through the door at the back of the kitchen.’

  Under the watchful eye of Billy and Charlie, Mr O’Brian seemed to glide silently in the direction of the kitchen. When he reached the door he opened it, paused for a moment then entered the room closing it firmly shut behind him. The brothers now sat on the floor pressing their ears against the door straining to hear the activity in the room behind it. As they listened they could hear huffing and puffing, whizzing and popping but could not hear Raggi’s squeaky voice. After about half an hour their Mum asked them to sit at the table for breakfast. As Billy tucked into his usual bowl of cereal he noticed that the biscuit tin was back on the counter top.

  When Mr O’Brian had finished they watched the slim stooping figure drag one large black sack after another past the breakfast table and out of the kitchen. As their hopes of seeing Raggi began to fade a tuft of unruly multi-coloured hair caught Charlie’s eye. ‘Look there goes Raggi,’ he whispered pointing at the tuft sticking out of the top of one of the sacks.

  The boys smiled at one another. They thought of the friendly little magical person they had met. They both knew her secret would be safe with them and they knew whenever they saw geese flying overhead they would always think of Raggi.

  Still Here

  By Katherine Loverage

  Lee had waited patiently for his parents to go to work, desperate to try out his new blades in the privacy of the garden. The birthday present had sat all weekend in the box waiting. He hadn’t bladed before and there was no way he was going to try them on and stand up in front of anyone.

  Being a gangly twelve year old was difficult; having just moved to the area, starting a new school was impossible. Friendships were hard for a newcomer.

  Lee had tried to be chatty during class but, he didn’t seem to be interested in the same things as everyone else. They liked their computer games; Lee didn’t really like computers games. The others liked sport, football and rugby. He didn’t like contact sport, and the only sports he liked were swimming, running, and boxing. And scuba diving but that wasn’t recommended at school.

  The popular boys in his class liked skateboarding and blading, neither of which Lee had tried before. After school at the skate park he watched in amazement, as the boys on their boards made them flip up, turn around and jump over ramps. The inline bladers were incredible, they flipped in the air, jumped and turned and landed perfectly.

  Lee’s birthday blades were itching to be used. As soon as his parents left for work, Lee put them on; he staggered across the carpet from the front room to the back door. His mother would have had a fit if she had seen them on him in the house. Holding onto the doorframe, Lee lowered himself outside onto the patio. As soon as he let go his left leg whipped forward and his right leg backwards, his bottom hit the concrete with a bang. The shock almost brought tears to his eyes. Undeterred he got up and shuffled to the wall. Giving up was not in Lee’s nature, he staggered a few steps forward, and then tried to make it a more natural move, and within a short space of time he could efficiently move from one end of the patio to the other. He only fell over a couple of times, but his ankles ached and he felt exhausted with trying.

  Lee spent the next week pounding up and down the patio gaining speed and confidence. He tried hard to do little jumps lifting one foot up at a time. Then having the self-belief that he could lift both feet in the air just a few inches, by landing without falling over, he knew he was ready to try the skate park.

  ***

  The numbers on the clock flipped over to seven exactly. Lee, already dressed, crept downstairs with his blades draped around his neck. He was off early to do his paper round. If he was really fast he could get it finished and spend thirty minutes at the skate park before going home for breakfast and then school. He had never delivered his papers so fast. Arriving at the park, silence hung in the air; it was completely empty, even in the car park for the gym. Lee pulled on his blades and went around on the flat not even attempting the ramps or half pipes.

  Once his confidence had kicked in, he sped up and raced around, the wind rushing through his hair and the cold damp air sticking to his face.

  He bladed across the bottom of the pipe, then stopped and looked up. How did they get up there and then how did they get down without sliding on their arses? Lee had no idea; tomorrow he would try to come down from the top, maybe if he watched after school he could work out how.

  The following morning Lee and his blades climbed to the top of the half pipe. He sat with his legs dangling and shook his head. He didn’t know how he was going to stay upright and go down at the same time.

  ‘Hi, are you going down?’ a voice asked.

  Lee looked up, there was an older guy, with worn blades standing next to him.

  ‘Mmmm, well I would if I knew how, but...’ Lee answered.

  ‘But, you haven’t worked it out, right?’ the guy said. Lee nodded.

  ‘Like this,’ the guy said, then stood on the edge of the half pipe and launched himself off. ‘You have to lean forward as you jump off then blade into the slope and keep your feet moving so you go up the other side. Have a go,’ he said.

  Lee stood at the edge.

  ‘Come on you can do it, have a little faith, what’s the worst that can happen, you go down on another bit of your body. Go on I’m here,’ the guy said.

  ‘Okay.’ Lee launched himself off, and his blades took him down to the bottom and a little up the other side. At this point Lee lost control and landed on his knees and slid back down.

  ‘Good first try, well done,’ the guy said. ‘Up you get, have another go.’

  ‘How can I get back up?�
�� Lee asked.

  ‘Move your feet pushing down hard, lean forward and keep going,’ he said.

  Lee did as the guy had suggested and bladed back to the top but he had no idea how to get up; he held onto the top with his hands, legs dangling down. ‘Help,’ Lee shouted.

  The guy pulled him up. ‘You have to try to blade, don’t glide, push your feet downwards as you skate hard then give a big push as you reach the top, then you should land on the flat platform here,’ he said. ‘Watch.’

  The guy dropped onto the half pipe, bladed down, then up the other side, twisted and came back down and then up again towards Lee. With a leap he landed on the platform.

  ‘You make it look so easy,’ Lee said.

  ‘It is after a bit of practise,’ he said.

  ‘Look I have to go now, school and all that. Shall I see you tomorrow?’ Lee asked.

  ‘Yes I expect so,’ the guy replied.

  ‘Sorry, thanks, I don’t know your name?’ Lee sort of asked.

  ‘Tony. Until tomorrow, Lee,’ Tony answered.

  Lee said nothing and dashed off on his bike, it had been awesome and he had managed to skate his way to the top platform. He felt great and Tony – well he was a good dude, his skating was amazing. And how did he know my name? Lee thought. He guessed he must have mentioned it without realising.

  ***

  Lee kept his new friendship quiet from everyone, spending the next month going early to the skate park. When he felt confident he would go after school and join in with the bladers. Tony was there every morning, practising, helping Lee to land on the platform and drop onto the half pipe. The last few days Lee had been trying to twist in the air so that as he turned and landed he went back down the pipe. He was making really good progress. Tony was a fantastic teacher, kind, understanding and sympathetic, making it effortless to learn and easy to make progress.

  Turning up after school, Lee was overwhelmed by the number of kids, mainly boys, blading, skateboarding or bmxing at the park. Each group making way for the others, taking turns and helping each other out. Lee made his way inside the gate and pulled on his blades. He did a few laps around the park on the flat to warm up then he joined the other bladers on the ramp and then the half pipe. He remembered what Tony had said and kept his nerve amongst those who were very proficient.

  After a few drop-ins and twists he landed on the top to rest and watch for a few minutes.

  ‘Hey, you’re good,’ one lad said. ‘You been blading long?’

  ‘About a month,’ Lee answered.

  ‘Here?’ the lad asked him.

  ‘Yeah, every morning,’ Lee replied.

  ‘Blimey, who’s teaching you?’ the lad asked.

  ‘The best. Thought he’d be here, not seen him though,’ Lee said.

  ‘Does he come up here, then?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Yes, well I’ve seen him every morning,’ Lee said. ‘He’s quite a bit older but the most amazing blader.’

  By now a large group had crowded around Lee and were listening to the conversation.

  ‘Who is he, I might know him?’ the lad asked.

  ‘Tony, do you know him?’ Lee said.

  ‘TONY you say. You sure you got the name right?’ The lad spoke loudly almost choking.

  ‘Yes I think so. Tall, fuzzy dark hair, big smile really kind and helpful – he’s a really great guy,’ Lee said.

  ‘You must be mistaken,’ the lad replied quietly, ‘Tony died this time last year. He used to come here all the time.’

  ‘OH, he just said he’s here to help anyone who needs it,’ Lee said.

  ‘Bloody hell, we thought he had gone for always, he was the absolute best.’ The lad smiled as he spoke.

  Silence fell all around and then a huge round of applause lifted the whole Skate park. The legend lived on in the hearts of those who truly believed in themselves.

  The Secret Magicians

  By Karen Tucker

  I was helping my mother on her market stall in Melagon when my life changed forever.

  Business was brisk, and I’d been busy holding bags to fill, refilling baskets with fruit and veg, or counting out change. But just for a minute, it had gone quiet.

  That’s when I spotted the dog. It must have been a stray. It looked thin and uncared-for. I could see its ribs through its patchy fur. It was staring up and drooling at the meat pie some fat merchant was eating. The juices were dribbling down his chin. He was talking, with his mouth full, to another fat merchant. He looked pompous and over-fed.

  I looked again at the dog. It needed that pie far more than he did. I thought how brilliant it would be if he dropped it so the dog could have the rest. I even made a little motion with my hand as though I was jogging his elbow.

  And the pie fell! I felt a surge of excitement. I watched, elated, as the hungry stray wolfed it down in two mouthfuls. I chuckled, and my mother looked sharply at me.

  ‘Look,’ I said, all innocence. ‘That merchant just dropped his pie, so the poor dog’s got a meal.’

  ‘Don’t laugh at other people’s misfortunes,’ said my mother, quietly. ‘That poor dog would be better off dead, so it wouldn’t have to go hungry again.’ Then she turned away to talk to a customer. I was surprised at her reaction. But although I could see her point, I wasn’t sorry for what I’d done.

  The merchant was cross, and looked around to see who had jostled him, but he couldn’t find anyone to blame. That was fine. I didn’t want to get anyone into trouble.

  Then it hit me. I would get into trouble if he realised what had happened! What I’d done, however small it might seem, could get me taken away by the authorities. I would never see my family again. I would be locked away and made to work for the Government. Because what I had just done was Magic, and no-one who can do Magic can live an ordinary life.

  I glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, it seemed not, but I would have to be very careful in future.

  ‘Oh crikey!’ I thought. ‘I’m in big trouble!’ You see, if you have Magic, you have to use it. If you don’t, it sort of builds up inside you and explodes somehow. That’s why you can’t be an ordinary person. It’s how the government justifies taking Magicians away and using them for their own purposes. Because you can become a danger to yourself and everyone around you if you aren’t taught to use it properly.

  But I was only ten years old. I didn’t want to be taken away from my family! I didn’t want to work for the Government. No-one knew what Magicians did, because they weren’t allowed contact with anyone. But I knew the Government fought wars and things, and it was rumoured that the Magicians helped them kill enemy soldiers. I shivered. I didn’t want to be made to do that!

  So I would have to find ways to use the Magic without being noticed. That would be a challenge, and I would almost certainly be found out one day. But I wanted to stay free as long as I could.

  ‘Jack!’ My mother’s voice, sharp and insistent, broke into my thoughts. ‘What’s the matter with you? Hold the bag for me, will you?’

  I found I’d been biting my nails in my worry. I stopped that, and helped Mum with her customer, then went back to considering my new problem.

  How could I use the Magic enough to avoid exploding, yet also avoid being caught, even by my sisters, who seemed to follow me around everywhere? They were way too young to be entrusted with such a secret – they might blurt it out to the wrong person. I had no idea what else the Magic could do, but I needed to know. So I decided to experiment at home whenever I could.

  It wasn’t easy at first, but I managed it. There were always times when Annie and Sarah were doing their own chores, or playing together somewhere. Over the course of the next few months, I found several ways to stop the build-up of Magical energy.

  But then came the moment I’d been dreading.

  At the market one day, I spotted a small child running away from her mother’s skirts. The girl ran into the path of a noble on his horse, who was going way too fast. An
other second and it would have trampled her. With a larger movement than usual, because I was in a hurry, I whisked the child out of harm’s way.

  And someone saw me. As I heaved a sigh of relief that the girl was safe, I looked up into the eyes of a woman on the other side of the street. She gave a small nod to show me she’d seen. My heart thumped, and I stopped breathing. There was a soldier only yards away. Would she tell him?

  No! She looked away and carried on walking. I breathed again and stopped biting my nails. But that wasn’t the end of it.

  I was staring out of the window after dinner that evening when I saw her walking up the garden path. I recognised the long green skirt and black hair as soon as I saw her, and my heart started to thump again. Was she coming to blackmail us? Was that why she hadn’t told the soldier?

  My mother took her into the parlour. I tried to listen at the door, but they spoke too quietly for me to hear, though I heard a stifled gasp from my mother and a reassuring tone in reply. After a few minutes, footsteps came towards the door and I backed away. It was my mother, looking for me. I went in with fear in my heart and my hand to my mouth.

  ‘Mrs Ermine has told me what she saw,’ Mum said, as she closed the door. She was more agitated than I’d ever seen her before. She sat down with an audible thump, like she was collapsing into the chair. ‘Oh Jack, why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea! I’m so frightened for you.’

  I hung my head. ‘Sorry, Mum.’ But what was Mrs Ermine going to do about it? That was what I wanted to know.