by Stan Mason
‘For what reason?’ The question was fired like an arrow from a cross-bow.
‘We may be getting married in the near future,’ I told him boldly. ‘I want her to meet my family. You can’t deny that I have one!’
‘We do not encourage strangers coming into the village or the villagers going outside,’ he spat. ‘In any case, I’m not sure I approve of your marriage to each other.’
‘Come on now!’ I returned feeling anger welling up inside me. ‘This is a free country. In the world out there, Moslems marry Christians, Catholics marry Anglicans, black people marry whites...’
‘That happens in the outside world... not here! The reasons you give are just cause for us to restrict people leaving our village. We don’t like change, Mr. Ross. We resist it at all times. I won’t change the rules just for you.’
‘Three days... that’s all I ask. I promise I’ll bring Bridget back if it bothers you that much.’
‘Indeed it does, Mr. Ross. Indeed it does! Once you leave this village everything will change. Promises become worthless. Of course it troubles me. I’m responsible for every person here. We have a population of eleven hundred people and it’s vital to maintain it at that number.’
‘Why do you insist on that figure?’ I demanded expecting him to reply cogently.
‘It’s vital,’ he went on. ‘As soon as we weaken and change the rules the village will go to the wall. We cannot afford that to happen. It must not happen!’
I considered his reply to be a complete over-reaction. What was the man wittering on about. The population would still be at eleven hundred when we returned. What difference did it make anyway?
‘You’re doing an excellent job here, Mr. Townsend,’ I continued in my ignorance, ‘but I think the situation has got to you. You’re becoming paranoid. Our visit to my sister for three days will come and go so fast you won’t even notice it.’
‘You misunderstand me, Mr. Ross,’ he countered swiftly. ‘The ways of this village are most singular. The world outside doesn’t understand us and there are rumours about our customs which they believe to be true. One of them is that we sacrifice a virgin each year at Halloween. The more we mix with other people, the more we weaken our community. As a result, I cannot endorse any plans you might have to leave the village.
‘And what if I take Bridget and we leave of our own accord?’ I ventured, treading on very dangerous ground. ‘What could you do about it?’
‘For one thing,’ he replied slowly, ‘I would ensure that neither of you could ever return. Mrs. McBain would leave her son here. She would never see him again.’
At that point, Bridget went into a spin. ‘No,’ she cried out, ‘that must never happen.’
I turned to her in amazement. ‘We can always take Robert with us.’
A smile appeared at the corners of Townsend’s mouth as he knew that he had won the battle. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about us, Mr. Ross. I suggest that you set aside your venture to leave the village and stay with us here. It’s far better for both of you in the long run, I assure you.’
Bridget held on to my arm with tears appearing in her eyes. ‘Listen to him, Sam,’ she pleaded. ‘I can’t lose Robert!’
I was stunned at her reaction. She had been so supportive earlier yet the threat against Robert had forced her to change her mind. The Chairman was absolutely right... I didn’t know what was going on!
Later that evening, after my angst had reduced to a lower level, I decided to take the law into my own hands. There was a secret about Obadiah Keppelberg that needed to be revealed and I intended to find out about it. The convention, the rules, the details about the man and his work, and the village, were resting quietly somewhere inside the library and I was determined to find them. As it grew dark, I left the house and went to the end of the village where it was located. My father had been a master locksmith and he had taught me the rudiments of his trade. Subsequently, I had little difficulty in unlocking the door and entered the building surreptitiously. This was a Victorian village so there were no alarms or electronic devices to alert the authorities. As the library was at the far end of the village, I decided to risk lighting a paraffin lamp. I looked at the shelves with a multitude of books wondering where the important document would be kept. There were some cupboards on one side. I searched them eagerly in vain. As time went on, finding nothing at all, my attention turned to the statue of the great man. At the foot of it, there appeared to be a handle which I assumed was attached to a drawer. I went towards it just as PC7 entered.
‘Hello, hello, hello!’ He began in his usual manner. ‘What’s going on here?’
I was caught in the act but I pretended that I was innocent. ‘I found the door open and the paraffin lamp lit,’ I lied blatantly, trying to keep my voice on an even keel. ‘I didn’t know we had any burglars in this community.’
He looked at me suspiciously for a short while. ‘Strange,’ he commented. ‘The door was open and the lamp was on, you say’
‘That’s right,’ I followed up. ‘But there was no one here. Baffling, isn’t it?’
‘Certainly is,’ he muttered. ‘Baffling!’
‘Just as well I came along. This place could have caught fire.’ I turned off the paraffin lamp and walked towards the door. ‘Maybe the librarian left the lamp on and forgot to lock the door.’
‘That would be unusual,’ he rattled turning with me to leave.
I made my way back home with a sigh of relief, unhappy that my trip had been in vain. There had to be papers about Keppelberg and the village available somewhere. Unfortunately I hadn’t found them but I believed I knew where to look for them next time!
* * *
At the earliest opportunity I took Bridget to the police station where we appealed to the Desk Sergeant.
‘Look,’ I began. ‘We want to visit my sister for three days. It’s a prerequisite before we get married. It’s only right that Bridget meets my family.’
‘Yes,’ intruded Bridget quickly. ‘We’ve seen Mr. Townsend but he’s not too happy to let us go. So we’ve come to ask you to persuade him otherwise.’
‘It’s only for three days, dammit!’ I urged angrily. ‘We’d be back here in no time.
The Desk Sergeant turned up his nose. ‘We never have people in this village leaving here. It’s not done. You’re the first stranger we’ve admitted here to my memory and now you want to leave. What if you decide not to come back? The population figure would fall and we wouldn’t be able to get it up again. And what will happen to Mrs. McBain?’
‘She’ll be with me,’ I told him wondering what he was talking about. ‘What do you think will happen to her?’
‘That’s not for me to say,’ he retorted realising that he had said too much. He thought over our request for a few moments and then nodded his head. ‘Very well, I’ll have a word with Mr. Townsend but I don’t hold out much hope. I’ll repeat all the facts to him and see what he says.’
‘I’ll lower it to two days if that helps. Just two days,’ I repeated, pulling a face at the lesser option. ‘But I can’t understand why everyone’s so paranoid about it.’
The next day Bridget and I were called back to the police station to face the Desk Sergeant again.
‘I’ve spoken with the Chairman and he states that he cannot allow you to leave the village. However, as you intend to marry, he will allow you, Mr. Ross, to visit your sister to tell her the news. But you will be required to return here within two days. Is that understood?’
‘What about Bridget?’ I asked with concern.
‘She will not be allowed to leave,’ he said sternly.
I turned to Bridget solemnly. ‘Do you mind if I go alone. I really need to see my sister at least one more time.’
She hesitated for a few moments and then conceded. ‘Make sure you come back,’ she tol
d me sadly. ‘Promise me that!’
I was furious at the decision claiming to have won half the battle. It would never be the same to visit Mary without Bridget but that was how it was going to be. I was allowed to leave only in the clothes I had come in and I went to the garage to collect my car. Within the hour I was standing on the front doorstep of my sister’s house. I knocked on the door and it was good to see the relief on her face.
‘Oh, my God!’ she shrieked loudly, ‘It’s Sam!’ She turned to Tim in the hallway. ‘Sam’s back!’ she shouted excitedly. He’s back!’ We hugged each other warmly and she led me into the lounge where there were two other people. ‘These are two friends of ours, Maurice and Irene.‘
I nodded to both of them and we all sat down with drinks in our hands as Mary looked at me searchingly.
‘Well, tell us all about it! Wayne’s gone into hiding somewhere so we had no idea what was going on. He rang Tim to say that you were staying at the village but I knew that couldn’t be true.’
‘You’re wrong, Mary,’ I related. ‘I am staying at the village. It’s a fantastic place. There’s nothing modern there... no television, radio, computers and the like but there’s peace and tranquillity.’
‘Are you sure about that,’ cut in Tim. ‘There’s been so many rumours about the place.’
‘None of which are true. I mean they don’t accept strangers, that’s for sure, but it’s a heavenly place Even better, I’ve met a woman I want to marry. She’s really beautiful. She’s a widow with a young son and I would have liked to bring her along... maybe next time.’
‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Sam? They haven’t hypnotised you or something like that, have they?’
‘I’m fine, Mary, absolutely fine.’ I sat there envisaging what Bridget would have thought had she been there. All the modern appliances, the modern furniture and décor... a kitchen with a cooker, a washing-machine, an electric clothes dryer, a dish-washer and a microwave and there was electric light and a telephone. It would have blown her mind. And we were all drinking and Tim was smoking a large cigar. She wouldn’t understand what was happening.
Tim was delighted that I had returned. He had taken a great deal of stick from his wife as a result of my leaving to find the village while Wayne had achieved nothing of notable significance. Later on, I discovered that he had departed elsewhere having resigned form the partnership. His nerves were so shot from his experience at the village that I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had gone to a nursing home for a time to recover.
I resented the way Mary berated the village and all those who lived there. She really knew nothing about it but she had been a journalist before she met Tim and words came to her in battalions... often caustic and harsh and always critical. She would have thought very little about Bridget staring vaguely at programmes on the television set, jumping at the sound of the telephone ringing, listening to the hi-fi, looking at people making jokes, enjoying themselves with drinks, and talking about football or golf. Bridget would have been plied with questions and probably smirked at for wearing such out-dated clothes. She would certainly have been asked why the village stayed with tradition Victorian times when the world had moved on so much and then there would be questions about sacrifices and black magic which were totally unwarranted.
‘Tell us more about the place and the people,’ advanced Mary, interested in hearing more.’
Her words caused me to be in a dilemma, There was so much I wanted to tell her about Keppelberg and all its advantages but I held my tongue because I was sure my words would fall on deaf ears. She would pick holes in everything I said, unable to appreciate anything I would tell her. How could she understand that no money ever passed hands amongst a community of eleven hundred people? That there were no loans or mortgages or any kind of debt whatsoever and there were no communications with anyone else in the world. Or that there were no cars or vehicles, no need for petrol, no insurance no gas or electricity... no litigation or Court cases... nothing!... and yet the people there survived happily and prospered.
‘There’s peace and harmony in the village,’ I managed to say. ‘No murders, no violent crimes, no theft or burglary, no hatred, no salesmen, no unpleasant features that muddle up lives... simply peace and goodwill. We have a large school, ample medical facilities, a library, a village hall, and a police station. There’s no gambling, no drug-dealing, no smoking, and no drinking.’
‘No drinking!’ echoed Tim. ‘Don’t they have a public house.’
‘There’s no public house,’ I confirmed.
‘If there’s no crime,’ cut in Maurice, ‘why do they need a police station?’
‘To deal with trespassers and strangers who come to the village,’ I retorted sharply. ‘Bridget and I will be getting married and we shall live in Keppeherg for the rest of our lives.’
‘Will the wedding be held there’ asked Mary.
‘Definitely,’ I replied affirmatively. ‘We’ll be married there.’
‘Will they allow you to have guests... seeing that they’re not partial to strangers?’ asked Tim.
‘For one day they will, but don’t expect too much. It’ll be very much a Victorian wedding with only non-alcoholic drinks.’
‘Just a word about Wayne,’ I mentioned quietly to my brother-in-law. ‘He got into a real mess at Keppelberg. He dressed up in Victorian clothes to pass himself off as one of them and got caught. I kept telling him not to trouble me but he persisted in chasing me all over the place. They put him in jail for two days on a charge of vagrancy and threatened him that if he came back they would... well you can imagine what they would do.’
‘What puzzled me,’ returned Tim, ‘is that he rang me a few times in distress. Well he’s resigned from the partnership so it’s no skin off my nose any more, and anyway you’ve come back.’
‘For just one day. I go back tomorrow. There’s a woman waiting for me.’
‘Are you really going to marry someone and live in that unholy place?‘ Irene stared at me as though I was going to inhabit Hell with Satan.
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’ I responded rudely. ‘So in your ignorance I suggest that you say nothing more about the place or the villagers. There’s been too much gossip already and all of it’s untrue.’
‘Surely she would prefer to marry someone in Keppelberg,’ she persisted. She was so insensitive that she had to have a hide like a rhinoceros.
‘She’s been married before,’ I returned quickly. ‘She’s a widow with a young son of eleven.’ I had to admit that the information went down like a lead balloon causing the woman to fall into silence. It was all too infra dig for her. ‘If you’re interested,’ I persisted even though she had lost interest, ‘her husband fell ill and died because her refused to take his tablets.’
‘When did this happen?’ asked Mary.
‘About two weeks ago,’ ’I said slowly.
The room fell completely silent. My sister was clearly appalled with my comment. ‘Are you saying that her husband died two weeks ago and she’s agreed to marry you?’
‘That’s exactly the case. They don’t grieve for the dead in Keppelberg. Life goes on.’
‘She’s bewitched you,’ declared my sister.
‘I knew black magic was being practised there,’ intervened the snooty woman who claimed she knew everything about the village but actually knew nothing.
‘This isn’t Basra,’ I claimed irately. ‘I’m perfectly safe there and I know what I’m doing.’
‘I suppose they count their years like those people in the Bible,’ exclaimed Irene cutting in once more. ‘Like Methuselah who lived for over nine hundred years.’
‘As it happens they do. Bridget is eighty-seven years old by their calculations.’
‘I’ve never heard the likes of it.’ stated Mary curtly. ‘
Eighty-seven years old indeed.’
I stayed overnight at my sister’s house but she could not accept my relationship with the widow. Nor was she impressed with all that I had told her about the village. She skirted around her suspicions and it was much to my relief when I left the following day. When I got back to the village, I parked the car outside the police station to announce my return.
’I’m back,’ announced proudly. ’Two days away and I’m back.’
He stared at me with hooded eyes. ’Were you affected in any way?’ he asked bluntly.
I shrugged my shoulders aimlessly. ‘What kind of question is that?’ I riposted. ‘Of course I’m not affected. I just went to see my sister.’
He nodded sagely allowing silence to prevail. ‘That’s good,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll tell Mr. Townsend that you’ve returned.’
I went back home to Bridget, kissing her and hugging her dearly.
‘I missed you,’ I told her. ‘I couldn’t wait to get back.’
‘I missed you too, darling,’ she returned sweetly. ‘I was scared you’d stay away for good. I don’t think I could bear that.’
‘You’re kidding. Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away from you!’
Robert was reading a book but he closed the cover and went directly upstairs to his bedroom. In my opinion, he was a strange lad, clearly under some kind of pressure, but I accepted that all boys went through phases as they grew up.
It was two days since I had made love with Bridget and we both felt the strain of Cupid’s arrow. She was so highly desirable that I could not resist her. I wanted to make love to her twenty-four hours a day even if I recognised that fact to be impossible. As soon as Robert left us, I went over to her and lifted her up in my arms, carrying her directly to the bedroom. Giggling at each other, we quickly stripped off our clothes and tumbled into the bed. I threw my arms around her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She responded even more eagerly than myself, impatient for the love-making to start. I ran my hands over the parts of her body which excited her so much. I needn’t have troubled to do so because she was already on cloud nine, moist, tender, waiting for me eagerly to penetrate her body. It was the most perfect union any couple ever experienced because it was as though we were one single person. We had always enjoyed unprotected sex which moved our love-making to a higher level. Each time, I envisaged that if we carried on in the same way she would eventually become pregnant. It was a racing certainty... and the idea of raising a family led me to reinforce my actions to make sure that it happened. As we moved up and down in a completely new sexual position, Bridget began to sigh louder and louder as her exhilaration mounted.
