A Seething New Year

It was the night that Seething celebrated. The night that all the freshwater sardine crews, talcum miners, pasty makers and members of all other guilds would gather to celebrate the start of a new season.

The party was in full swing but it was clear that this year there was a problem. A queue had formed in front of the one public convenience and it was not moving forward. As the concern began to spread the leader of the village stepped to the front of the queue and knocked on the toilet door.

“Are you alright?” she asked

“No, I’m stuck,” shouted the desperate voice from inside.

She recognised the voice immediately and turned using a gesture of her hands to quieten the crowd.

“There’s no need to panic,” she announced. “It’s just a miner in convenience.”

Happy New Year wherever you are and here's to a wonderful 2014 as the Spirit of Seething continues to grow.

What the Dicken's - It's 'A Christmas Present'.

The final published version of ‘A Christmas Carol’ bore little resemblance to his original draft. The publishers felt Dicken’s first version was too bleak and too futuristic for Victorian sensibilities. Here, for the first time, is his original story.

A Christmas Present

For Ebenezer Scrooge, Christmas had become a season that brought the lowest of spirits to him. The sight of streets filled with the poor and the lame, the lost and the helpless were visions that scarred his heart and soul and haunted him.

Yet, for those with plenty, this was time of joy as they could celebrate the Lord’s humble birth with excess and self-congratulation. Ebenezer struggled with their greed and self importance in their honouring the little prophet.

As Scrooge carried out his ablutions on Christmas Eve he stared into the mirror and offered a prayer that at some point in the future Christmas would be celebrated with a true spirit. A hope that this season could truly mark the point in the calendar where those with fortune and power would reach out a caring and generous arm to those who suffer. A prayer that the increasing gap between rich and poor could be bridged.

As Scrooge lay his head upon his chilled pillow he heard the first toll of the church bell sound midnight. Even with closed eyes he was aware of a blinding light filling his room. With trepidation he opened one eye and saw a massive spectre beckoning him with outstretched bony finger. Scrooge pulled back his threadbare sheets and stood before the ghostly manifestation.

Although he did not speak it was as if Scrooge could hear the very thoughts of the dark spirit. “You have prayed for a future where man cares for man, where those with fortune and power will reach out a caring and generous arm to those who suffer. Come with me I will show you what this season will

become.”

“Spirit,” spoke Scrooge, “Should you not take me back to the past then show me the present before this vision of what is to come?”

“Whatever gave you that idea? Open your eyes to the future”.

Scrooge opened his eyes and saw scenes of hunger, war, sickness and poverty. “Why does this still happen Spirit? Is the world poorer”.

“No,” said the Spirit. “There is more wealth than ever, more cures for illness....”

“Then why does this still happen?” screamed Scrooge.

“Because those with greed in their hearts need war to sell weapons, they need illness to sell medicines, there is little profit to be found in peace and health.”

“The little prophet,” thought Scrooge as he was whisked to another scene.

Here was another room unlike any he had seen before. Here was a small window occupied by midgets who were singing badly with large ‘X’s above the heads. Yet no one could see  or hear them as they were staring at a small child who was screaming like a banshee whilst throwing coloured paper and other objects around the room.

“What is wrong with him Spirit? What pains him so much? Can no one do anything?”

The Spirit uncurled the fingers of one hand to reveal a small gold tube. “He cries for this.”

“If this is medicine give it to him now for I cannot stand to see this family’s pain for one moment longer.”

“This is not medicine but energy. In the future man creates enormous power in these small things. It is called a battery.

“But if this has such power why is there still such hardship?”

“Because this power and invention is used to run games, toys and entertainment to stop people having to think how others may suffer.”

Scrooge found his voice cracking as he spoke. “So things do not get better they get worse. I cannot ignore the needs of the poor and the hungry. You must have shown me this so I can change things. You must take me back so I can start the change.

“You must remember what you have seen is just a vision of what could be. This ‘battery’ is a future. The present is not included.”

23 hours - the fifth hour

04.00. The train is pulling away from the station as we get to his carriage. The seat is empty, the carriage is empty. I let out an expletive and the guard who has just stepped back into the carriage asks rather politely if something is wrong. I turn to her and stop myself from shouting. “Where is he?” I gasp, “Where is the man who was sitting here?” She is surprised by our reaction when she tells us he has just got off at that stop we have pulled away from..

04.05. “Why?” the guard asks. Before I can answer the woman with me speaks, “We think he has taken one of our bags," and, after a pause “Accidentally.”  The guard seems happy with this answer. “Is there anything we can do?” I ask, “Is there someone at that station we can talk to?” The guard shakes her head, “Not at this time in the morning, it’s unstaffed until 6.” She sees me glance at the emergency stop sign. “And I wouldn’t try that for a lost bag Sir,” she says. “The next stop is in 5 minutes and you should be able to get a cab from there.”

04.10. The woman with me takes out her phone. “What is the name of the next station?” she says in a calm, firm and controlled voice. As the guard says it the woman repeats it over he phone as she requests a cab to pick us up in 5 minutes. The voice at the other end speaks and she says, “£50 extra if you are there as they train pulls in.” The guard stares at me. “Thank you,” she says and hangs up. She then turns and tells me to get my belongings.

04.15. We walk in strained silence back to my seat and pick up what little things we have. I wonder whether it is worth taking the case but remember it is important to leave no trace behind. Perhaps it’s too late as so many of the passengers know we have been on this train. “Who was he?” she says. I’m not sure if it’s to me or just voicing her thoughts but I do respond. “I don’t know,” I mutter. “What did he look like?” she asks pointedly. I pause to try to get the picture back in my head.

04.20. As the picture forms again I realise how clever he had been. Every time I went past his seat his head was hidden from me. Either behind a paper or with his back to me gathering his bags and belongings. There must be something, there must be something I can remember. The train pulls into the station and once again I find myself jumping through sliding doors to save time. In the darkness there is a glowing yellow lamp. “There,” she says pointing, “that must be our cab.”

04.25. We are underway but the driver will not shut up. First about the £50 bonus and then by the fact we forgot to get off at the previous station, which seemed the simplest explanation. His constant drivel makes it hard to concentrate on the picture in my head. Finally I turn to the woman and as I do I realise I don’t even know her name. I lean towards her and quietly say “I’m Mike,” as the driver’s prattle carries on. “Faith,” she responds and then to the driver “How long?”

04.30. We should be at the station in five more minutes. The driver seems oblivious to our talking and is continuing his one-way conversation in the front. The absurdity of our situation is beginning to hit home. We are going to arrive at a station fifteen minutes after the man with our package got there. We have no clues as to where he is going and what transport he had arranged. Faith has taken out her phone. “I can’t get any 3G,” she says, “try yours.”§ I take mine out and have no internet signal either. “Nor me,” I say before remembering I have turned the Wifi off to save battery. 15%

04.35. We have got out of the taxi and asked him to stay. The station is empty and barely lit as we begin to look for any clues as to where the man has gone. The rain proves to be our friend as there are a single set of damp footprints coming from the wet platform and through the sheltered concourse to the footpath outside the station ticket office. That’s where they end so he either set off back onto the wet pavement or….

04.40. Faith has noticed the same wet footprints further up the pavement where it is sheltered by a bus top canopy. They stop there and she places her feet over the last two and sits down on the bench. That’s it. He waited for a bus or something here. As she gets up another car drives up and winds down its window. “Cab for Etlingham?” I walk up to the driver, “Pardon?” He repeats, “Cab for Etlingham?” “Who ordered you?” Faith asks. “Don’t know, just got a call about twenty minutes ago.” I turn and look at Faith and then turn back to the driver. “I’m afraid your fare has left already,” and before he can ask, “I point to the other taxi, “and that’s ours,” I say.

04.45. The angry cabbie pulls away cursing. As I watch him exit the car park I see Faith studying the bus timetables. “That’s it,” she says triumphantly, “He waited here for his cab but when it didn’t come quickly enough he caught the 4.30 bus. There’s a night bus every hour and it goes through Etlingham.” She runs back to the cab and I follow admiring her mental adroitness. We jump in as she says, “Get us to Etlingham as quickly as you can. The bus is due to stop there at ten past five,” she whispers to me. “Etlingham,” he says, “right away,” and so starts the next outpouring of unwanted conversation.

04.50. “He can’t have planned to take the package when he did. He must have just been waiting for an opportunity,” She says. “He didn’t know you would get off the train for water.” She pauses for a moment. “Why did you?’ she says turning towards me. “I was thirsty,” I say staring back at her, “And I knew you were too.” She let’s her eyes drift from me and quietly says, “It means he had no transport arranged here. He is having to do everything off the cuff. We might just have a chance.”

04.55. It is still dark but there is an increase in streetlamps as we move towards a town. I lean forward towards the driver. “Is this Etlingham?” I ask and the driver shakes his head. “Nope, this is Fenschem, then we’ve got Lower Etlingham, then Etlingham. Not long now.” I stare at Faith and was about to say at least there’s hope but realise she won’t appreciate the levity and I think she currently sees me as a bit of a fool. As we leave Fenschem we can see another vehicle in the distance.

Sun and shadows

He turned to her and said, "When I am dead you will be able to grow, spread your wings and do wonderful things."

"And when I am dead you will be able to do the same," she replied.

"Oh no," he told her. "For you took the bars that had held me and melted them with your love. You have let me soar, to reach out for the sun. Your love has been without selfishness. A love so kind that it breathed new life into me, but the nearer I flew to the sun the darker the shadows on the ground. You have lived in those shadows without a thought for yourself. When I am gone the sun will light you as it always should and people will know the brilliance that reflects from you."

Modern medicine

He was passing the boxes through the window to his brother who was loading them into the van. He hated this, he hated every time his brother got him involved in his ‘scams’.

It was always going to be the ‘last time’, always ‘the final one’ then they could stop. But it didn’t stop and being involved made him feel sick, physically and mentally sick.

This was going to be the last he thought as he passed another five slim Samsung boxes through the open window. As he did he said to his brother firmly, “This is the last one for me, I can’t do this anymore. You don’t understand that it makes me feel sick.”

His brother paused and looked at him. Then he smiled and spoke, “Just keep taking the tablets.”

Rest easy

They found the bird on the pathway to their house. It's eyes barely open, it's body a rack of pain. It had flown without rest for over four years.

The little boy bent down with tears in his eyes to cradle it.

"Why didn't you land on a tree or a branch to rest?" Said the boy. "There are woods everywhere."

The bird let out his final sigh realising he had made a fundamental error in not resting. He just hadn't 'twigged' it.

Wise words

"And I shall go well with onion," she announced to the crowd who muttered in admiration.

She was the wisest of all the herbs - in fact, she was a Sage.

The Children's Snowman is Donne

It was the most beautiful snowman they had ever made. The children were so excited with their creation standing proud on the top of the hill. It was not just beautiful, it was the biggest snowman they had ever built.

Every day they would run up to the top of the hill to admire their snow sculpture and add more snow to protect it.

As days went by and the sun’s heat warmed the soil so the snow began to melt creating a lake like moat around the bottom of the hill.

After two days it was too deep for the children to wade through and so they just had to stand looking up to their beautiful creation with no way of getting over to him.

Finally the youngest said what they were all thinking – “Snowman is an island.”

23 hours - the fourth hour

03.00. I am about to offer the woman one of the bottles of water when I notice she is not in the seat anymore. My heart suddenly races and deafens me but the sight of the case still resting on the seat next to me brings it rapidly back to a regular beat. I drop my self down and flip the lid off one of the bottles and gulp down some of the water. The first drops seem to create a glue in mouth but by the time it is half empty I am beginning to feel more normal.

03.05. I let me head fall back against the headrest and yawn. I take a more leisurely drink from the bottle and feel my body begin to relax. I have been awake for just over three hours but it feels like thirty. This is going to be the longest and hardest days of my life. Once I have delivered the package I will disappear and swear to myself that I will never get caught up in this sort of thing again.

03.10. I begin to wonder where the woman has gone to? What happened to make her move? I was only off the train for a matter of moments but now there is no evidence that she was ever here. I stare at where she sat. There is evidence, a slight dip in the seat and a slip of paper. I lean forward and pick it up. It is receipt for a rather expensive scarf from a London shop I have never heard of.

03.15. As I look at the receipt something makes me feel uncomfortable. I tuck it into my jacket pocket and pick up the case. I go to the locks but they are already open. I am almost sure I would not have left them like that. I lift

the lid and feel physically sick as I stare at empty interior I jump up and shake the case to check it’s empty. It is clearly not there but I cannot help myself. I feel desperate and my stomach is cramping. I look under the seats and up on the shelf, standing on the seat to make sure that I can see right to the back. I want to scream.

03.20. I quickly run through my day so far and it is clear that only time the package could have gone was when I was briefly off the train buying the water. Logic tells me that the woman must have taken it and that would explain her absence. I know I have to get it back so I throw the now empty case onto the overhead shelf and start to walk through the train.

03.25. The same men stare up at me as I go past plus a couple more lift their gaze, their frowns signalling the fact that I have disturbed their precious concentration. One man is occupied collecting his belongings in preparation for the approaching stop. There are fourteen on the train including the guard. I know that as I counted before. I get to the carriage where the woman had been sitting but it is empty. I carry on through to the buffet car and finally to the door of the driver’s cabin. She is nowhere to be seen.

03.30. I feel light headed and semi feint, propping myself up against the drivers’ door. This cannot be happening. Perhaps I will wake up soon and this is just an anxiety dream about the day ahead. In my heart and head I know that this is not true but I want to believe I am asleep. Where the hell has she gone? I will walk through the train slowly to find her. She cannot have left the train at the last stop where I bought the water as I could see the platform and no one got off.

03.35. I go back through the carriages again checking and rechecking. When I get to the carriage next to mine I notice that the toilet door is locked. That’s it. She is hiding in there. I knock heavily on the door and just get a muffled sound back. Suddenly there is banging on the door from the inside. I put my weight against the handle and force open the door. She is lying on the floor with gaffa tape across her mouth, her legs are bound with a cable tie. Her eyes are full of fear. I lean forward and lift her up. Her arms are tied behind her back with another plastic tie.

03.40. I take the gaffa from her mouth and she coughs uncontrollably. I take the small penknife that is on my key ring and cut through the cable tie around her ankles. It is incredibly hard. She turns slightly to let me get to the one on her wrists. As soon as she is free I push her shoulders back against the wall. “Where is it?” I say with a voice mixed with fury and fear.

03.45. “I have no idea, She says immediately, “I was watching you get water when a hand grabbed me and pulled something over my eyes. Next thing I know is you open that door.” I go back into the toilet and look around. Nothing. She could have left it anywhere on the train. I go back to her, “Where is it, I’m serious, I have to get it back.” She doesn’t say ‘what?’ so she knows what I’m talking about

03.50. “I know.” she says. “What do you mean, ‘you know’?’ I stammer. She looks at me with those remarkable eyes, “Did you really think they would send one person with such an important package.” Her words echo round my head. Does this mean she works for them too. The rain is slowing to a stop as are my thoughts. “Come on,” she says, “We have to find it. I stand upright and, as I do, a picture comes into my head.

03.55. “What is it? she says grabbing my arm. I have to focus, what is it in the picture in my head that is disturbing me. The man gathering his bags, plastic bags and a rather trendy paper carrier with a logo that said …… Oh my god. I fumble with my pockets and pull out the receipt. “What is it? she says again. The name on the receipt is the same as on his bag. I turn and run to the next carriage with her following behind. “I know who has it,” I say over my shoulder.