Half way there. The creature in today's story really does exist in the part of the roof space we call Narnia. Let me know if you want me to continue with the final chapters. Love Granny Ruth
Chapter Five: An Encounter in the Dark
Raymond clambered out of the box of sticks and lay on the cold garage floor. He had never felt so sick in all of his short life. He gazed up at the little blue sweets arranged carefully on the window sill. Who keeps sweets in the garage? he wondered. And then it hit him. Poison! Someone was trying to kill him, probably Himself.
The desire for revenge - to pay someone back when they hurt you - is very strong. Raymond gathered all his remaining energy and shimmied up the waxy side of a tall, green Wellington boot. He managed to reach the top and wriggle the upper half of his body over the edge. Clinging on with his tiny claws he began to retch. He coughed and vomited the entire contents of his stomach into the boot before sliding back down, exhausted. That’ll teach him, he thought.
He now had a raging thirst, so he decided to get back outside where the heavy rain had left sweet deep puddles. After a long drink, Raymond lay in his cardboard box for the rest of the morning.
The rain had washed the day clean and spring was bursting out in yellow everywhere. Smudge offered words of wisdom: you can eat the broom, but don’t touch the forsythia or the dandelions. 'After the morning I’ve had, I’m not touching anything,' said Raymond.
Later he dandered round to the front of the house where there was a flowerbed with lush foliage. On his tour of the property he had spied broken pieces of roof tiles lying in the valley between the house and the return. He reckoned if he could just get up there he might be able to find a way inside. Himself and Missus Daisy were in the back garden so the coast was clear.
Raymond found a strong shrub with toothed leaves which was well established and securely attached to the wall. It took his weight without shifting as he began to clamber up its spiny stem. It was easier than he’d thought and very soon he emerged into the light and dropped into the gutter. It was soggy in there but he quickly stepped onto the roof tiles and scurried up the valley. As expected the cement was dislodged and some of the edge tiles were broken. There was a hole. He squeezed under the roofing felt and he was in!
But where was he? He walked along a beam and peered down into the room below. It was a windowless space, gloomy and dark. There was no furniture, only boxes and boxes. As his eyes adjusted to the half-light he could see a wooden rocking horse abandoned in the corner. Nothing to see here, he thought. Or to eat.
He sniffed around the floor when all of a sudden he had a creepy feeling, like he was being watched. He glanced at the horse, but he was staring into the distance. Was there someone else in here? The ceiling of the room slanted down on two sides and in the far corner was a pitch-black space. Raymond crept closer until he could just make out a shape, a sinister shape with a ghostly white face. He jumped back in fear. He knew that shape. It was a shape like that that had made off with his father one day, picking him up in the field and carrying him high into the sky. Raymond and his brothers never saw him again.
The shape did not move. It sat totally still with round eyes staring ahead. It was a barn owl – the kind that sits on fences lying in wait for unsuspecting rodents like him. Its plumage was buff-coloured speckled with tiny dots and its claws were gripping a piece of wood.
Raymond was not a stupid rat. He knew that it was strange for an owl to be lurking indoors. Who on earth does he think he’s going to catch in here? he wondered.
The owl did not seem to have noticed him. Perhaps he’s ill, thought Raymond. He grew braver by the minute and pressing his body close to the floor he inched forward to get a better look. The owl was worse than ill: some of his feathers had been torn loose and one of its wings was obviously broken. He was in a bad way and Raymond felt sorry for him.
‘Are you all right, old man?’ he asked.
Silence.
‘How on earth did you get in here?’
Silence again.
‘Be like that, then,’ said Raymond. ‘See if I care!’
The owl stayed absolutely still and Raymond started to feel like a predator. He ran at the owl and knocked him over. Now who was the bully? He could not believe that he had attacked a bird of prey and got the better of him.
The owl offered no resistance but still Raymond felt powerful. He bit into the owl’s side expecting to find juicy intestines. Instead he spluttered and spat. His mouth was filled with feathers and musty grains. What?
Raymond was greedy so he ate a few mouthfuls until he felt completely stuffed.
Stuffed! Of course. That was it. The truth dawned slowly. The owl was stuffed!
Raymond glanced round to see if the horse was watching. Still wooden. He was embarrassed. Did he really think an owl would let him get close enough to make mincemeat of him?
It was time to leave. Raymond took one last look at the poor owl and leapt up towards the roof. Feeling very foolish, he descended the pyracantha bush and slunk home.
‘Having fun, are we?’ smirked Smudge, the squirrel, when he appeared on a nearby branch.
Raymond ignored him. Smudge could be really annoying. He did, however, know things. From his vantage point high in the tree he could see everything that was going on. He had been watching Himself and Missus Daisy draping colourful bunting on the big wooden structure in the back garden.
‘I think there’s going to be a party,’ he said smugly.
‘Are we invited?’ said Raymond.
‘Of course not,’ said Smudge, ‘but that won’t stop the likes of us…’
No comments:
Post a Comment